[fanfic] Lush - Aoi/Uruha - oneshot
Title: Lush
Chapter: one-shot
Author: tokyorockstar
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha
Genre: Romance, Smut (suggested)
Rating: R
Summary: A rare night out together at a posh club, where alcohol fans the fire.
Warnings: Implied sex
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Notes: Yes, Uruha randomly quotes Aoi's infamous musiQ vol.13 interview, LOL.
Lush.
Leaning against the plush chrome furniture, he felt the hardwood floors vibrating, but the mild tremors sent to his heart did nothing to increase its slow beating speed.
Aoi felt relaxed. Comfortable. The music resonating throughout the club was muted to his ears; the quiet laughter of people sounded like they came from under water. Glowing lights alternating slowly in a trance-like manner of seductive blues and purples made him a little dizzy, and scents of distinct cologne brought an unknowing smile to his lips.
The velvet curtains a few feet away were suddenly swept aside, and a familiar silhouette appeared, entering the tiny alcove, walking towards him slowly.
Uruha slid across the sofa and sidled up next to him, lashes lowered. His blonde hair was tousled, a few loose strands falling into his face. A figure-hugging t-shirt and black slim-cut pants accentuated his washboard thin figure. Eyeliner applied not as thickly as usual, his stare was beckoning. Seductive.
Aoi smiled again, lifting the glass of vodka to his lips. Where the alcohol should’ve tasted bitter, it only tasted sweet like vanilla when he sipped it, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.
It was rare that Uruha would ask him out for a drink. Just when Aoi had thought their dwindling friendship had been reduced to nothing but a platonic relationship between fellow musicians, Uruha had surprised him.
Earlier that evening…
“Otsukare-sama.”
Aoi nodded to his fellow bandmates, his occasional friends but mostly fellow work partners. He slung his black leather bag over his shoulder and headed out of the door. Just as he was heading towards the parking lot, thinking about how he would spend yet another night alone in his apartment mucking around with the new music writing software he bought, footsteps echoed behind him, and a hand on his shoulder caused him to freeze in his tracks.
It was Uruha.
Aoi turned to look at his band mate. “What?” He kept himself cool and expressionless - it pained him to smile at Uruha anymore, because what he thought they had once shared had seemingly crumbled to dust over the years.
“Where are you off to?”
“Home.”
“I see. Well,” the blonde guitarist appeared momentarily nervous, something Aoi was not used to seeing. Perhaps he had seen him like that, years ago, when the band first formed, and Uruha was always twitchy backstage before lives or even before photoshoots. Now they had gotten used to fame, and Uruha would not even break a sweat when walking on stage looking flawless.
“I was wondering,” he continued. “If you would like to go for a drink.”
Aoi paused, looking at him. The large shades perched on Uruha’s nose blocked the expression in his eyes.
“Eh…” Aoi murmured, unsure of what an appropriate response should be. Then he plastered a casual smile on his face. “Why not? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it.”
Uruha seemed relieved. “Alright then. Meet me at 21 later.”
21 turned out to be a new club, posh and expensive-looking, with a small but good crowd of people engaged in hush conversations at the sparkling bar counter, and a polished but rather empty dance floor.
“This is a nice place,” Aoi commented offhandedly. He had arrived first and immediately chosen one of the small alcoves tucked in the back of the club, with velvet curtains surrounding the sofa and glass coffee table. Private, and Aoi liked it that way.
“So,” Uruha said softly, barely audible above the lush electronica beats playing from hidden speakers. “How’s it going?”
Unable to help himself, Aoi chuckled. “Uruha, we see each other at work every day, and you ask me ‘how’s it going’?”
Uruha shrugged, bringing a glass of champagne delicately to his lips. The two of them drank in silence for a while, simply relaxing in one another’s company and enjoying the chilled beats. Several drinks later and sufficiently tipsier, they began chatting amiably about the band and musical tastes in general. Aoi felt oddly at ease, chatting to Uruha, as if nothing between them had changed over all these years, as if the fame had done nothing to them. That moment in that night, they were just two friends, not two musicians.
A few more shots, and Uruha turned, propping his head against his left hand, while crossing his right leg over his left. This position gave him a complete view of Aoi who was sitting next to him. Aoi, who noticed this shift in Uruha’s sitting position, gamely adjusted himself and turned to face Uruha as well, mirroring the way he propped his head against his palm.
Lips curving into a smile, Uruha said nothing. Instead, he sipped from his glass of vodka, studying Aoi quietly. Aoi was dressed almost completely in black, save for the silver rosary necklace glimmering against his chest. His black hair was long and silky, cascading past his shoulders. Black eyeshadow was smudged around his eyes, making it look smoky.
Beautiful. Like a dark angel.
Although Uruha knew he was beautiful himself, and he took great care in making sure he looked perfect every time he posed for a photoshoot or took the stage, there was something different about Aoi’s beauty. It was a laid back, mysterious kind of sexy. There was something alluring about Aoi’s eyes, the way his hips would sway gently when he walked. It was all natural, and all a part of Aoi. Having spent so many years together, Uruha had watched Aoi all the time, but his beauty and quiet grace never wavered.
What are you thinking, Uru?
The unspoken thought echoed throughout Aoi’s mind as he, too, looked back into Uruha’s eyes, allowing his companion to study him like a specimen. Aoi was unsure if it were the alcohol, but tonight he didn’t feel uncomfortable or naked under Uruha’s gaze. Rather, it was almost as if Uruha were caressing him gently as his eyes roamed all over Aoi.
Uruha. Now he was a different story. He could be the entire opposite of Aoi, even though they were both connected because of the GazettE. Uruha’s skin shone, his hair shone, and his eyes sparkled.
Untainted. Like porcelain doll.
The dark eyeliner gave him a slightly mysterious appeal, but Uruha was always so immaculate, clean and refined. There were countless times when Aoi simply could not help stealing glances on stage at the perfection next to him. Whether sweat was glistening on his face or his eye make-up was melting, Uruha never failed to look beautiful and glow even in the weakest of lights.
It was unmistakable. Aoi’s mind, now swirling with images of the man sitting right next to him, tried to register the look Uruha was giving him. They had known each other for so long, and though never once had they complimented one another on their appearance, it was obvious that there was adoration in Uruha’s eyes right now. And what Aoi saw in Uruha’s eyes were reflected in his own.
Lust.
Uruha, sensing as if the staring game was starting to take an awkward turn, very casually turned his gaze away, setting his now-empty glass on the table. The alcohol was definitely getting to his head, but there was no mistake of what he saw in Aoi’s eyes. In a way it terrified him a little, to have someone looking at you with such adoration, and yet he knew he felt the same infatuation for the other man.
Was it love? Uruha was unsure. And from the look in Aoi’s eyes, he knew Aoi was uncertain too. But that didn’t mean the possibility didn’t exist.
“Kouyou.”
His name came as a floated whisper from the other man’s lips, so quiet yet so full of lust.
Uruha turned back to look at Aoi, almost scared to believe the look of hidden invitation he saw in Aoi’s eyes. Perhaps it was the vodka, but Uruha’s body automatically shifted closer to Aoi, their thighs pressed against one another and faces so close he could smell Aoi’s sweet breath.
So long. They had known each other for so long that words were not needed, especially not when they already knew what the other felt. A small part of Uruha’s mind was dancing in joyous celebration for having worked the courage to ask Aoi out. This was the time they needed, the time to reconnect, to allow all these suppressed thoughts and feelings to once again resurface but without boundaries this time.
Tonight, it was just them. And because Uruha felt more certain than ever now, he smiled briefly before leaning in and closing his eyes.
A second later their lips met, and the kiss, sweeter than either of them could have imagined, lingered for a long moment.
And then Aoi withdrew, opening his eyes slowly as he studied Uruha, who face grew the slightest tint of pink, still glowing prettily in the dim light.
“So 'I’m not gay or anything', huh?” Uruha suddenly said, his voice laced with mockery.
Aoi blinked for a second, then laughed quietly at the random outburst.
“That,” he said, leaning in closer once again. “Is because only you can know the truth.”
And with that he kissed Uruha again, this time more fervently. It was lust, they both knew it, but at the same time they both wanted it. Aoi gently slid his tongue past Uruha’s lips as his arms encircled around the blonde’s waist, pulling him closer. Somehow they ended up with Uruha sitting on Aoi’s lap, straddling him, as their tongues entwined and the kiss deepened.
Not once did the thought of being discovered should anyone lift the curtains come into their minds.
But another minute of making out, and Uruha pulled back suddenly.
Aoi looked into his face, feeling worried. Was he going to reject him?
“Yuu…” Uruha whispered, his voice urgent and laced with sensual desire. “Please… can we go back to my place?”
It was bold. Bolder than anything Uruha had ever said in his life. But at that moment he felt so desperate for Aoi, he didn’t care if his expression screamed neediness. It was okay, because it was Aoi - no, Yuu - the man whom he knew so well, who knew him so well.
Aoi simply smirked a little and stood up, pulling Uruha to his feet.
*
Barely a second after the door slammed shut in Uruha’s apartment, his hands were already reaching down to unbutton Aoi’s shirt. He pressed Aoi against the door, kissing him there for a long while, before Aoi took things into his own hands and promptly lifted Uruha up into his arms.
“Yuu! What are you doing?” Uruha laughed at the sudden action, feeling embarrassed at being carried by Aoi. Such childish acts had not happened for many years now. Aoi only smiled as he kicked the door to Uruha’s bedroom open, before placing Uruha gently on the bed. He climbed on top of Uruha, studying his beautiful face for a second while stroking his hair.
Uruha stared back into Aoi’s eyes deeply. This was so new for him, for both of them. Never in all the years they spent together have they ever been this intimate. Even the occasional kisses on stage they did for fanservice were incomparable. But Uruha knew that what happened now wasn’t simply a one-time effect from the alcohol. They had both been secretly wanting this.
“You’re so beautiful, Kouyou,” Aoi whispered, taking in the sight in front of his eyes. It thrilled him - it was unbelievable to have Uruha like this, lying down beneathe him, so trusting, so delicate, hair flushed out at the sides of his face, lips parted slightly and eyes filled with intense lust.
He leaned down, kissing Uruha with all his heart and soul. Yes - somehow, amidst all the lust and desire, Aoi’s heart found itself surrendering to Uruha. Whether Uruha loved him back, it didn’t matter in this moment. Aoi just wanted to give himself wholly to him.
Uruha moaned softly against Aoi’s lips, tasting wine and cherries in the other man’s mouth. His grip tightened on Aoi’s shoulder, and one hand raked through Aoi’s soft black hair. Tongues still lashing fervently, both men now more aggressive, Uruha caught scents of roses and musk from Aoi’s hair as he tilted his head. He was drowning, drowning in Aoi’s kisses and scent, drowning in the warmth emitting from Aoi’s body, and it felt so, so good. Aoi was like the darker side of heaven he had never known, that drew him closer, making him begging for more.
He sat up, pulling off his tshirt, and then removing the rest of Aoi’s shirt as well. He let his fingers trace over the gentle ripples on Aoi’s torso and abdomen, loving the feel of his skin, like silk wrapped over warm steel. He pulled Aoi down on top of him again, wanting to finally feel that sensation of skin-on-skin, something he so often dreamed about.
Aoi sighed, his lips sensitive against the softness of Uruha’s full lips. Everything about Uruha was soft and delicate, his skin milk white and smooth. The pretentious scents of expensive cologne did nothing to mask his purity. He wanted to drink it all, to keep taking and taking more, to have more of him, but he controlled himself and told himself to be gentle, because it was Uruha there in his arms, and Uruha was special.
His lips melted against the liquid soft skin on Uruha’s neck, everything smelling and tasting like Uruha filling all of his senses, awakening every last fibre in his nerves. It was so sensual, so stimulating to just be able to touch and kiss every part of Uruha he could reach, and the moans he drew only served to make his heart beat faster.
Those sounds, the repeat of Aoi’s birth name falling from Uruha’s lips again and again, formed a secret hymn of their own, a cry of worship and want.
They kissed and kissed, touched each other everywhere they could, lingering when the breathing quickened and when the moaning escalated. Everything they could give each other, they gave.
So much lust, so much desire.
On that night, in the darkness of a one-room apartment, two men found hidden beauty and claimed the desire they have locked away for so long.
And perhaps, beneath the sheens of sweat, the marks and bruises on one another’s skin, they found love too.
A/N: Well, well. I’ve been wanting to write Aoi/Uru smut for the longest time XD; That being said, I don’t really like graphic depictions, so this is my style of smut for you - long, emotional & whiny. LOL.
Chapter: one-shot
Author: tokyorockstar
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha
Genre: Romance, Smut (suggested)
Rating: R
Summary: A rare night out together at a posh club, where alcohol fans the fire.
Warnings: Implied sex
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Notes: Yes, Uruha randomly quotes Aoi's infamous musiQ vol.13 interview, LOL.
Lush.
Leaning against the plush chrome furniture, he felt the hardwood floors vibrating, but the mild tremors sent to his heart did nothing to increase its slow beating speed.
Aoi felt relaxed. Comfortable. The music resonating throughout the club was muted to his ears; the quiet laughter of people sounded like they came from under water. Glowing lights alternating slowly in a trance-like manner of seductive blues and purples made him a little dizzy, and scents of distinct cologne brought an unknowing smile to his lips.
The velvet curtains a few feet away were suddenly swept aside, and a familiar silhouette appeared, entering the tiny alcove, walking towards him slowly.
Uruha slid across the sofa and sidled up next to him, lashes lowered. His blonde hair was tousled, a few loose strands falling into his face. A figure-hugging t-shirt and black slim-cut pants accentuated his washboard thin figure. Eyeliner applied not as thickly as usual, his stare was beckoning. Seductive.
Aoi smiled again, lifting the glass of vodka to his lips. Where the alcohol should’ve tasted bitter, it only tasted sweet like vanilla when he sipped it, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.
It was rare that Uruha would ask him out for a drink. Just when Aoi had thought their dwindling friendship had been reduced to nothing but a platonic relationship between fellow musicians, Uruha had surprised him.
Earlier that evening…
“Otsukare-sama.”
Aoi nodded to his fellow bandmates, his occasional friends but mostly fellow work partners. He slung his black leather bag over his shoulder and headed out of the door. Just as he was heading towards the parking lot, thinking about how he would spend yet another night alone in his apartment mucking around with the new music writing software he bought, footsteps echoed behind him, and a hand on his shoulder caused him to freeze in his tracks.
It was Uruha.
Aoi turned to look at his band mate. “What?” He kept himself cool and expressionless - it pained him to smile at Uruha anymore, because what he thought they had once shared had seemingly crumbled to dust over the years.
“Where are you off to?”
“Home.”
“I see. Well,” the blonde guitarist appeared momentarily nervous, something Aoi was not used to seeing. Perhaps he had seen him like that, years ago, when the band first formed, and Uruha was always twitchy backstage before lives or even before photoshoots. Now they had gotten used to fame, and Uruha would not even break a sweat when walking on stage looking flawless.
“I was wondering,” he continued. “If you would like to go for a drink.”
Aoi paused, looking at him. The large shades perched on Uruha’s nose blocked the expression in his eyes.
“Eh…” Aoi murmured, unsure of what an appropriate response should be. Then he plastered a casual smile on his face. “Why not? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it.”
Uruha seemed relieved. “Alright then. Meet me at 21 later.”
21 turned out to be a new club, posh and expensive-looking, with a small but good crowd of people engaged in hush conversations at the sparkling bar counter, and a polished but rather empty dance floor.
“This is a nice place,” Aoi commented offhandedly. He had arrived first and immediately chosen one of the small alcoves tucked in the back of the club, with velvet curtains surrounding the sofa and glass coffee table. Private, and Aoi liked it that way.
“So,” Uruha said softly, barely audible above the lush electronica beats playing from hidden speakers. “How’s it going?”
Unable to help himself, Aoi chuckled. “Uruha, we see each other at work every day, and you ask me ‘how’s it going’?”
Uruha shrugged, bringing a glass of champagne delicately to his lips. The two of them drank in silence for a while, simply relaxing in one another’s company and enjoying the chilled beats. Several drinks later and sufficiently tipsier, they began chatting amiably about the band and musical tastes in general. Aoi felt oddly at ease, chatting to Uruha, as if nothing between them had changed over all these years, as if the fame had done nothing to them. That moment in that night, they were just two friends, not two musicians.
A few more shots, and Uruha turned, propping his head against his left hand, while crossing his right leg over his left. This position gave him a complete view of Aoi who was sitting next to him. Aoi, who noticed this shift in Uruha’s sitting position, gamely adjusted himself and turned to face Uruha as well, mirroring the way he propped his head against his palm.
Lips curving into a smile, Uruha said nothing. Instead, he sipped from his glass of vodka, studying Aoi quietly. Aoi was dressed almost completely in black, save for the silver rosary necklace glimmering against his chest. His black hair was long and silky, cascading past his shoulders. Black eyeshadow was smudged around his eyes, making it look smoky.
Beautiful. Like a dark angel.
Although Uruha knew he was beautiful himself, and he took great care in making sure he looked perfect every time he posed for a photoshoot or took the stage, there was something different about Aoi’s beauty. It was a laid back, mysterious kind of sexy. There was something alluring about Aoi’s eyes, the way his hips would sway gently when he walked. It was all natural, and all a part of Aoi. Having spent so many years together, Uruha had watched Aoi all the time, but his beauty and quiet grace never wavered.
What are you thinking, Uru?
The unspoken thought echoed throughout Aoi’s mind as he, too, looked back into Uruha’s eyes, allowing his companion to study him like a specimen. Aoi was unsure if it were the alcohol, but tonight he didn’t feel uncomfortable or naked under Uruha’s gaze. Rather, it was almost as if Uruha were caressing him gently as his eyes roamed all over Aoi.
Uruha. Now he was a different story. He could be the entire opposite of Aoi, even though they were both connected because of the GazettE. Uruha’s skin shone, his hair shone, and his eyes sparkled.
Untainted. Like porcelain doll.
The dark eyeliner gave him a slightly mysterious appeal, but Uruha was always so immaculate, clean and refined. There were countless times when Aoi simply could not help stealing glances on stage at the perfection next to him. Whether sweat was glistening on his face or his eye make-up was melting, Uruha never failed to look beautiful and glow even in the weakest of lights.
It was unmistakable. Aoi’s mind, now swirling with images of the man sitting right next to him, tried to register the look Uruha was giving him. They had known each other for so long, and though never once had they complimented one another on their appearance, it was obvious that there was adoration in Uruha’s eyes right now. And what Aoi saw in Uruha’s eyes were reflected in his own.
Lust.
Uruha, sensing as if the staring game was starting to take an awkward turn, very casually turned his gaze away, setting his now-empty glass on the table. The alcohol was definitely getting to his head, but there was no mistake of what he saw in Aoi’s eyes. In a way it terrified him a little, to have someone looking at you with such adoration, and yet he knew he felt the same infatuation for the other man.
Was it love? Uruha was unsure. And from the look in Aoi’s eyes, he knew Aoi was uncertain too. But that didn’t mean the possibility didn’t exist.
“Kouyou.”
His name came as a floated whisper from the other man’s lips, so quiet yet so full of lust.
Uruha turned back to look at Aoi, almost scared to believe the look of hidden invitation he saw in Aoi’s eyes. Perhaps it was the vodka, but Uruha’s body automatically shifted closer to Aoi, their thighs pressed against one another and faces so close he could smell Aoi’s sweet breath.
So long. They had known each other for so long that words were not needed, especially not when they already knew what the other felt. A small part of Uruha’s mind was dancing in joyous celebration for having worked the courage to ask Aoi out. This was the time they needed, the time to reconnect, to allow all these suppressed thoughts and feelings to once again resurface but without boundaries this time.
Tonight, it was just them. And because Uruha felt more certain than ever now, he smiled briefly before leaning in and closing his eyes.
A second later their lips met, and the kiss, sweeter than either of them could have imagined, lingered for a long moment.
And then Aoi withdrew, opening his eyes slowly as he studied Uruha, who face grew the slightest tint of pink, still glowing prettily in the dim light.
“So 'I’m not gay or anything', huh?” Uruha suddenly said, his voice laced with mockery.
Aoi blinked for a second, then laughed quietly at the random outburst.
“That,” he said, leaning in closer once again. “Is because only you can know the truth.”
And with that he kissed Uruha again, this time more fervently. It was lust, they both knew it, but at the same time they both wanted it. Aoi gently slid his tongue past Uruha’s lips as his arms encircled around the blonde’s waist, pulling him closer. Somehow they ended up with Uruha sitting on Aoi’s lap, straddling him, as their tongues entwined and the kiss deepened.
Not once did the thought of being discovered should anyone lift the curtains come into their minds.
But another minute of making out, and Uruha pulled back suddenly.
Aoi looked into his face, feeling worried. Was he going to reject him?
“Yuu…” Uruha whispered, his voice urgent and laced with sensual desire. “Please… can we go back to my place?”
It was bold. Bolder than anything Uruha had ever said in his life. But at that moment he felt so desperate for Aoi, he didn’t care if his expression screamed neediness. It was okay, because it was Aoi - no, Yuu - the man whom he knew so well, who knew him so well.
Aoi simply smirked a little and stood up, pulling Uruha to his feet.
*
Barely a second after the door slammed shut in Uruha’s apartment, his hands were already reaching down to unbutton Aoi’s shirt. He pressed Aoi against the door, kissing him there for a long while, before Aoi took things into his own hands and promptly lifted Uruha up into his arms.
“Yuu! What are you doing?” Uruha laughed at the sudden action, feeling embarrassed at being carried by Aoi. Such childish acts had not happened for many years now. Aoi only smiled as he kicked the door to Uruha’s bedroom open, before placing Uruha gently on the bed. He climbed on top of Uruha, studying his beautiful face for a second while stroking his hair.
Uruha stared back into Aoi’s eyes deeply. This was so new for him, for both of them. Never in all the years they spent together have they ever been this intimate. Even the occasional kisses on stage they did for fanservice were incomparable. But Uruha knew that what happened now wasn’t simply a one-time effect from the alcohol. They had both been secretly wanting this.
“You’re so beautiful, Kouyou,” Aoi whispered, taking in the sight in front of his eyes. It thrilled him - it was unbelievable to have Uruha like this, lying down beneathe him, so trusting, so delicate, hair flushed out at the sides of his face, lips parted slightly and eyes filled with intense lust.
He leaned down, kissing Uruha with all his heart and soul. Yes - somehow, amidst all the lust and desire, Aoi’s heart found itself surrendering to Uruha. Whether Uruha loved him back, it didn’t matter in this moment. Aoi just wanted to give himself wholly to him.
Uruha moaned softly against Aoi’s lips, tasting wine and cherries in the other man’s mouth. His grip tightened on Aoi’s shoulder, and one hand raked through Aoi’s soft black hair. Tongues still lashing fervently, both men now more aggressive, Uruha caught scents of roses and musk from Aoi’s hair as he tilted his head. He was drowning, drowning in Aoi’s kisses and scent, drowning in the warmth emitting from Aoi’s body, and it felt so, so good. Aoi was like the darker side of heaven he had never known, that drew him closer, making him begging for more.
He sat up, pulling off his tshirt, and then removing the rest of Aoi’s shirt as well. He let his fingers trace over the gentle ripples on Aoi’s torso and abdomen, loving the feel of his skin, like silk wrapped over warm steel. He pulled Aoi down on top of him again, wanting to finally feel that sensation of skin-on-skin, something he so often dreamed about.
Aoi sighed, his lips sensitive against the softness of Uruha’s full lips. Everything about Uruha was soft and delicate, his skin milk white and smooth. The pretentious scents of expensive cologne did nothing to mask his purity. He wanted to drink it all, to keep taking and taking more, to have more of him, but he controlled himself and told himself to be gentle, because it was Uruha there in his arms, and Uruha was special.
His lips melted against the liquid soft skin on Uruha’s neck, everything smelling and tasting like Uruha filling all of his senses, awakening every last fibre in his nerves. It was so sensual, so stimulating to just be able to touch and kiss every part of Uruha he could reach, and the moans he drew only served to make his heart beat faster.
Those sounds, the repeat of Aoi’s birth name falling from Uruha’s lips again and again, formed a secret hymn of their own, a cry of worship and want.
They kissed and kissed, touched each other everywhere they could, lingering when the breathing quickened and when the moaning escalated. Everything they could give each other, they gave.
So much lust, so much desire.
On that night, in the darkness of a one-room apartment, two men found hidden beauty and claimed the desire they have locked away for so long.
And perhaps, beneath the sheens of sweat, the marks and bruises on one another’s skin, they found love too.
A/N: Well, well. I’ve been wanting to write Aoi/Uru smut for the longest time XD; That being said, I don’t really like graphic depictions, so this is my style of smut for you - long, emotional & whiny. LOL.