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tasteracha · 2 years ago

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kinktober - day thirteen

kink: camcorder with minho ft. chan

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. threesome (kind of), chan is a perv, afab!reader, teensy bit of manipulation

chan didn’t think this would happen when he asked minho to borrow his camcorder a couple days ago - all he wanted was to record some practice videos to upload to youtube. he didn’t think before he took it, didn’t think before he looked through minho’s old footage of his dancing that he keeps for memories, didn’t think before watching what he watched.

it was a video of you. and minho.

in his defense, the storage on the memory card was almost full and chan was just looking for something that could be deleted to free up space - and wouldn’t minho check the storage to see if there was anything he didn’t want chan seeing first? if anything, this is minho’s fault.

sure, it’s minho’s fault that chan is one second away from jerking off to the sight of you getting fucked into oblivion by his best friend, the grainy pixels leaving little to nothing to his imagination. your moans sound tinny from the low quality speakers, minho’s grunts accenting the sounds coming from your mouth as he fucks you up against the studio mirrors. your breath is fogging up from where your face is pressed against the glass, sweaty handprints from the both of you staining the surface. minho better have cleaned those mirrors after that, chan’s delirious mind supplies as he continues watching the footage he should have turned off minutes ago.

the video is from the same angle as their dance practices, the same walls on display and oh fuck chan doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. that’s the room that he dances in, he’s leaned up against that exact mirror, panting and overexerted, he’s been yelled at by minho for messing up the choreography in that exact place.

he tries. he tries so hard to forget what he saw, to get the image of you shaking apart when you came out of his head. to stop thinking about the way your skin went white from where minho was gripping it. to restrain from gripping his cock in his hand under his blanket with his eyes screwed shut and the symphony of your combined noises playing in his head like a song he couldn’t get off of repeat.

but how could he when he had to go back into that rehearsal room just a few days later to practice? what excuse could he possibly give his members about why he wanted to switch rooms from this one? the room that’s full of their most precious memories, full of laughter and tears and piles of sweaty cuddles on the floor? no, he couldn’t. what he could do was avoid that spot like it was poisonous, standing on the farthest edge of the room after practice was over, chugging water and thinking about how you both have probably fucked on the floor there, or those couches, or by the closet door.

he doesn’t notice you at first, sliding into the room to hand minho a cold water bottle and press a kiss to his cheek. the other members were slowly trickling out, passing tired greetings to you as they shuffled past, eager to go home and shower. when only minho and him were left, you went to approach him only to find his eyes already on you, glazed over at you but not really seeing.

he looks at you and all he can see is the way you were pressed up against the glass, your tits squished but somehow still bouncing, the screwed up features of your face when you were overwhelmed in pleasure. all he can hear are those metallic sounding moans, all he can feel is the urge to fall at your feet-

“bang chan,” minho snaps, jerking chan out of his fantasy. “where is my camera? you’ve had it for a while, i wanted to record the new choreography.”

“oh!” chan is starting to panic, he didn’t think that minho would ask after the camcorder so soon. he didn’t have time to prepare, didn’t have the energy to create an excuse. “there was too much storage on it, so i didn’t get to record what i wanted and i forgot to ask you about it.”

he’s biting his tongue now, cursing himself for saying too much. couldn’t he just have said he would give it back tomorrow?

“i didn’t think about the storage,” minho starts, not sounding like he had anything to hide. did he truly not know about what he had left on that camera for chan to find? “did you see anything interesting?”

he knows. he knows. chan is beginning to sweat, he can feel it in his hair and under his arms and he wants to bury a hole by his feet so he can jump into it and never climb out.

“haha, no,” he says, packing up the rest of his bag so that he didn’t have to look at minho. or you, who’s been silent since you walked in, watching him carefully. for all he wasn’t scared of minho and his adorably empty threats, he was terrified of you. “i didn’t even look. just saw that the storage was full, you know?”

he sounds awkward. he is awkward, right now.

“chan,” you trail a finger down his arm, speaking for the first time since you arrived and he’s gone, your touch leaving raised hairs in your wake. you should be angry, you should be livid, why are you touching him like that- “come over tonight to mine would you? we wanted to have you over for a while, minho wanted to cook for you. and you can give him the camera back then.”

“oh,” chan is sure that his face is flushed completely red by now, but he nods anyways. “sure! i’m free tonight. i’ll be there at seven? or whenever is good for you, i’m free. wait, i said that already-”

“perfect,” minho purrs, taking one of your hands in his and laying the other on chan’s shoulder. “seven is perfect. see you then, chan.”

he gets to your place early and sits in his car for 30 minutes, chewing at his fingernails and tapping his leg at an alarming pace. the more he thinks about it the more he overthinks - did they just want to yell at you in private instead of at the company building? did they really not know? what if he confessed and they didn’t know? what if they never speak to you again?

he has to take several deep breaths before leaving his car, and again before he knocks on your door. he’s ushered in by you, bright smiles on yours and minho’s faces as you take the camera out of his hands, and by the time he has a glass of wine in his hand and he’s sitting on the couch while minho puts the finishing touches on dinner he’s almost fully relaxed. he’s been here so many times, your apartment being a refuge to all the boys when they wanted to get away from the dorms for a bit. this is normal.

“let me put something on for us to watch,” you say at the same time minho asks chan if he wanted more wine, and you sneak the camcorder towards the tv while chan was distracted, sniping at minho that no he doesn’t want a second glass he’s not even halfway through the first one. you plug it in, smiling when it connected to the right input immediately. you scroll through the files, fingers calm on the remote even though you were shaking in anticipation inside. when you get to the right file you click on it, turning up the volume.

the image of you and minho takes over the tv, sounds coming out of the tv in a much better quality than what chan had been used to. his head whips towards the tv, wine forgotten and eyes wide as he takes in the video that you put on.

“what?” he asks, almost in a gasp as his eyes flicker back and forth between the tv, you, and minho, who had finally exited the kitchen and joined you in the living room.

“we thought since you loved it so much, we would watch it together,” minho explains, much more casually than one should be when playing a video of them fucking their girlfriend in front of their best friend. “why, is something wrong?”

“i-”, chan cuts himself off, panic choking his voice. “i’m so sorry-”

“hey,” you move towards him, sitting against his side and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “that isn’t what this is about. we don’t mind, okay?”

“we couldn’t let him sputter on for a bit more?” minho pouts, crossing his arms at you. “it was funny.”

“min, be nice,” you scold, smiling at chan.

“channie, i would have beat you up when i found out if i wanted to,” minho relents, siting on chan’s other side, sandwiching him between you both. “she likes that you watched it. i like it. okay? just relax and be good for us.”

minho’s words wash over chan, leaving him in a sort of daze. be good for us, minho had said. he could do that, chan was so good at being good. he melts against the couch, the heat from both of your bodies enveloping him as he takes in the video he’s seen over and over already.

“you planned this?” he asks, breathless and mesmerized.

“of course i did,” minho scoffs, squeezing one of chan’s thighs in his warm hand. “you think i would just let you watch that without planning it? i’m not that stupid.”

you’re not, but maybe i am, chan thinks, and he only realizes that he said it out loud when you start giggling and lean your head into his shoulder to hide your laughter.

he wants to retort, to somehow defend himself, but then video-minho changes his angle and starts fucking video-you even harder than before and whatever words were in his throat stayed behind the lump there.

“do you want to do that to her?” minho asks, hand trailing up chan’s thigh, leaving behind phantom pinpricks of sensation. he lets his blunt nails rake over chan’s leg, the delicate material of his workout pants providing no protection.

“can i?” chan breathes out, looking at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“please,” you wiggle your legs open a bit, a clear invitation. his hand comes to rest on your thigh and it’s so big, so much bigger than minho’s. he slides it up, to the hem of your oversized shorts, dipping his fingers closer to your panties and -

he stops.

“but, i also want…” he ducks his head down, trying to hide his flush before glancing at minho through his lashes. minho’s brow furrows, confusion clear on his face before he puts it together.

“oh, my channie,” he coos, running a hand through chan’s hair. “we can do that too, i promise. but my girl has been waiting so long for you, you don’t want to make her wait even longer, do you?”

chan shakes his head, entire body swaying with the force of it, reenergized by minho’s promise of more. he turns towards you and you feel your breath leave your body as you turn weighless for a moment, landing back on earth to find yourself straddling chan’s lap.

“you’re strong,” you praise, feeling up his biceps as you get comfy in his lap, ignoring minho’s indignant yelp next to you. chan beams up at you, both of his hands cupping your ass and using it as leverage to pull you closer into him. his dick is hard in his pants, poking against your crotch, and you both let out lewd moans when you grind into him a bit. he glances at minho, a little insecure and still kind of uncomfortable, but minho just pulls him in and kisses him deeply. it’s a sight to see, like a movie playing out right in front of your eyes, the love of your life and his best friend making out right in front of you. chan tenses a bit but melts into the couch even faster, letting minho lead him into blissful submission as he cups his face and moves it right how he wants it.

when they part, chan’s lips are cherry red and so wet, glistening in the light from the lamps decorating the room. you can’t help but kiss him too, licking minho’s essence off of him and reveling in the way he bucks up into you like he can’t help it.

chan slides his lips to the right, peppering kisses to the corner of your lips, across your jaw and down your neck. he sucks at the spot right under your ear that makes you see stars, heat bursting in your lower belly. he was utterly intoxicated by your scent, your clean, floral body wash taking over his senses until he was all but panting into your neck.

it almost hurts to pull back from him, it’s like a stab right to your heart when he makes a wounded noise at the loss of contact, but you need more from him. any thoughts that you might have had of seducing him, of wining and dining him and showing him how much you really wanted him, died out once you felt his hands on you. you’ve been crushing on this man for almost as long as you’ve been crushing on minho, and you weren’t going to give this opportunity any time to ruin itself; you knew chan, knew how his self-consciousness and second-guessing worked, and if you wanted him you needed to take him now before he changed his mind.

you reach for the drawstring on his pants, pulling it open and sticking your hand in, rubbing him through his boxers. next time you’d have more decorum, you’d suck him off until he was right on the edge and make him sob when you refuse to let him come, you’d let him fuck you into the mattress and let him pin you down, but not right now.

“on the couch?” chan asks, eyes wide as they flicker back and forth between you and minho.

“you know we’ve done it in worse places,” minho says, humor lining his words as the lust takes over his eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. a burst of affection takes over you as you look at him, your perfect soulmate who understood you and your desires and shared them with you like you shared everything else.

“never knew you were such an exhibitionist,” chan snipes back at him, gasping when you tug him out of his pants and boxers, the stretch of his waistband making it easy. you only have to stroke him a few times until he’s fully hard, his cock red and leaking where it curves into his lower belly.

“minho, help me,” you ask, blinking at minho through your eyelashes, and he knows what you want immediately; he hooks his fingers through your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down to your knees, just far down enough for you to be able to rub your bare pussy against chan’s cock.

“god, you’re so wet,” he curses, throwing his head back and sighing in time with the movement of your hips.

“for you, channie,” your voice cracks when his cock catches on your clit, and both of them are smart enough not to say anything about it. minho moves though, ever impatient, and lines chan’s cock up against your hole with practiced ease.

“thought about this a lot, did you?” you tease, knowing very well that both of you thought about this a little too much, sharing fantasies in hushes whispers when you were supposed to be asleep. .

minho clicks his tongue and presses himself up behind you, still fully clothed even though his dick was rock hard in his jeans. he places his hands on your hips and pushes you into chan, driving his cock deep into you. you collapse against chan’s chest, a surprised yelp leaving you at the unexpected fullness. chan echoes you, burying his face into your neck with a shudder.

“tease me again and see what i’ll do,” he says darkly, hands still in a death grip on your waist. you take his threat for what it is, knowing that he would follow through with his words, and you start grinding into chan in slow circles. his hands circle your waist, fingers tangled with minho as they let you set the pace.

“please,” chan whimpers, his breath tickling your neck. you want to tease him so badly, but how could you when he asked so politely? you shift your knees further onto the couch, gaining leverage so you could lift your hips higher up. you drop back down onto him and you both moan in unison.

you lift back up and drop down, again and again and again, finding a rhythm that fits both of you perfectly. it’s like a dance, moves that feel practiced and eased, spurred on by minho’s soft whispered praises towards the both of you. the video playing on the tv had reached its end, and every sound coming from you was heightened.

“what a pretty show, all for me,” minho moves away and finally takes his cock out of his jeans, fisting it and immediately starting to stroke himself off at a fast pace. you can’t see him, you miss the warmth of him against your back, but chan can’t take his eyes off of him, transfixed by the sight of his best friend jerking himself off to him and you as you’re bouncing on top of him.

you’re shaking apart on top of chan before you realize it, orgasm taking over you as you continue to ride him. you clench around him hard, and he’s spilling into you a second later, jerky little thrusts shaking your body on top of his. minho curses as he comes a moment later, too keyed up to extend his pleasure for long. this wasn’t about him anyways; at least, not this time.

you lift off of chan with a hiss, sending him a look of sympathy when he shivers in overstimulation. you don’t make it far, pulling him down to lay against you, your back pressed up against his front. both of your pants are still halfway off, but you can’t be bothered to care right now - you’re utterly exhausted, even from just one orgasm.

the both of you barely register minho draping a blanket over you before settling on the floor in front of you, leaning his head on the couch right by where chan’s hands were around your stomach. it’s so domestic, the three of you drifting towards one another so naturally that it just feels right. later, you’d get up and eat the now-cold dinner minho had painstakingly prepared, but for now you were content to lay in comfortable quiet.

“wait,” chan breaks the silence, and you have to resist the urge to groan at him. “how did you know that i watched it? what if the storage really was just full?”

“please, you’re too obvious,” minho teases, voice soft and drowsy, and you can hear the smile in it. “plus, you were watching it in the dorms, idiot. you’re lucky it wasn’t jeongin that caught you.”

kinktober masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #minchan #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader

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zaynessbeloved · 1 month ago

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Suppressing desires

Synopsis: You never expected your quiet friendship with Zayne—the cold, brilliant cardiac surgeon—to spiral into something that burned beneath your skin. Between long shifts, cold coffee, and fleeting moments, you tried to ignore the pull between you two. But life was hard, and desire was harder to suppress. Filming yourself became your secret escape. You never thought he’d find your videos. You never thought he’d watch. And when the truth breaks free, so does everything between you.

Content warnings: Friends to lovers, slow burn, camgirl x viewer dynamic, explicit sexual content, masturbation (camgirl content), mild voyeurism (consensual context), sexual tension, emotional angst, miscommunication, guilt, soft dominance, possessiveness, power dynamic, soft dom Zayne, oral sex, begging, overstimulation, rough sex, aftercare, cute shower scene, mutual pining, unspoken feelings, confessions during intimacy, possessive!Zayne, light choking (consensual), hand on belly kink, manhandling, praise kink, deep emotional release, cuddling, vulnerability, comfort after conflict.

Pairings: Zayne x reader

Word count: 5.1k

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - more soon

He hadn’t meant to watch it that night. But that excuse had lost its weight the moment he came to the sound of your moans.

Zayne sat alone in his apartment most nights now, the silence more suffocating than usual. The kind of quiet that wasn’t restful, but sharp-edged and constant—like the hum of a surgical light long after the patient was gone. He buried himself in work, deeper than ever before, clinging to it like a tourniquet. Double rounds. On-call weekends. Extra consults he didn’t need to take but did anyway, anything to keep his hands busy and his mind obedient.

He hadn’t opened the site again. Couldn’t.

That night—that one night—had started as nothing but release. Exhaustion. A disembodied need he tried to chase into numbness. He hadn’t even remembered paying for the video until he saw the receipt in his inbox days later—proof, in black and white, of the line he crossed. He deleted it without opening it. Deleted the browser history. Deleted the app.

But nothing could delete the memory.

You haunted him now. Not in the way of ghosts or grief, but in movement in the dim light. The way your hips moved beneath the lens. The shudder in your thighs. The wet sound of your fingers sliding through your slick folds, and the way your chest rose in uneven, stuttering breaths when you neared the edge.

He remembered too much. He saw your face in the middle of the night when he blinked. Heard your quiet, broken gasp when the silence in his apartment stretched too long. And worse—far worse—was what came next.

The arousal. Undeniable. Thick and low and crawling down his spine until his hand was fisting the sheets or pressing into his lap, his body reacting with shameful need before his thoughts could even catch up. He didn’t even have to touch himself anymore. You lived beneath his skin now. Every memory blurred with the shape of you, the sound of you, the unbearable want of you.

And so he pulled away. He hadn’t decided to. There was no conscious effort. No dramatic vow to create distance. It just happened. He found himself hesitating when he passed the café. Scrolling past your messages instead of answering right away. Saying less. Giving nothing. And when he saw you that one last time—flour-dusted apron, tired smile, slipping him a macaron like always—he wanted to throw up from how normal it all was.

You didn’t know. Of course you didn’t, how could you? You greeted him like nothing had changed, made a small joke, asked about his week. And he couldn’t look you in the eye. Not the way he used to. Not when he had seen your mouth open in a moan, your body shaking as you came, so beautiful and undone that it nearly brought him to his knees.

He had always been good at restraint. That was his entire life—control, discipline, precision. He prided himself on never crossing lines. Never indulging what didn’t belong to him.

But now… now he was tainted by the weight of what he’d taken. He couldn’t unsee you like that. Couldn’t pretend he hadn’t touched himself to the sound of your pleasure. Couldn’t be the same Zayne you smiled at, so easily, so trustingly—not while his body betrayed him every time your name so much as drifted through his thoughts.

So he distanced himself. Because it was the only thing he could do.

He told himself it would pass. That if he stayed away long enough, if he buried himself deep enough in work, the memory would fade. He told himself you deserved better than the man who’d watched you like that. Who couldn’t face you without the blood rushing straight to his cock and the shame blooming hot across his skin.

But it didn’t fade. And every day that passed only made the guilt grow louder—clawing against his ribs, not just because of what he’d seen, but because of what it meant. Because maybe…just maybe…he hadn’t watched you by accident at all.

There were moments—late ones, usually—when Zayne let the truth crawl up the walls of his apartment and press into the hollow of his chest.

He missed you.

Not in the casual way people said it, not like a “we should catch up” text sent out of politeness. It was deeper than that. Messier. Something more like grief. Something that sat under his skin like a bruise that never faded.

The past year had crept up on him in quiet ways. What started as coincidence—the coffee shop, the check-ins, the light teasing you managed to pull from him on tired days—became routine. And Zayne didn’t build routines with people. He didn’t let anyone close enough. But you… you’d bypassed all of that without even trying.

He should’ve known better. He should’ve set boundaries from the start. That would’ve been the smart thing. The safe thing.

But you smiled at him like you saw something behind his stillness, behind the sterilized walls and grey suits and unreadable gaze. You joked when others backed off. You understood the pauses in his messages, the weight in his silences, the sharp way he sometimes said too little instead of too much. You made space for him—for the real him—without ever demanding it.

And somehow, without realizing it, Zayne started looking forward to the little things. The text notifications with your name. The way you added just enough syrup to his coffee to piss him off. The sound of your voice through the noise of a busy café, instantly grounding him in ways he couldn’t explain.

He let himself care. And then he watched you…at the edges of pleasure. And now, everything was fractured. Because the truth—the awful, quiet truth—was that he hadn’t just seen you as a friend. Not for a long time.

Zayne knew what you deserved. He’d known it from the beginning. Someone light. Someone who brought joy like oxygen. Who laughed without restraint and danced in the kitchen and would tell you to fuck off and skip work just to lie in bed all day. Someone better. Someone normal.

Not him.

Not someone who lived under the weight of other people’s hearts, who only came home to silence and cold floors and microwave leftovers. Not someone whose affection came wrapped in sarcasm and eye contact that lingered too long because he couldn’t say what he wanted. Not someone who loved in restraint and apology and ghosted conversations when the shame got too loud.

You gave him so much without even knowing it—your attention, your time, your trust. And he? He tainted it. Took you into the dark and watched you like he had the right. Got off to it. And then ran.

What kind of man did that? Not the kind you deserved. But the most unforgivable thing—the part that made him press his palms into his eyes at night until stars danced behind his lids—was that he didn’t just want your body. He wanted you.

The quiet you. The exhausted, eye-rolling, stubborn you. The version of you who laughed too hard when the whipped cream machine broke and stood with hands on your hips like the world owed you something. The one who leaned on the counter and called him predictable for ordering plain coffee, who slipped him macarons like it was an inside joke, who looked at him like he wasn’t just the surgeon—like he was Zayne.

He wanted a life with you. A real one. One where he came home and found you curled on his couch with a mug too big for your hands. One where he woke up tangled in your limbs and brushed hair out of your eyes before kissing your temple. One where you sat on the kitchen counter complaining about your classes while he made time to cooked for you and made sure you ate something that didn’t come from a vending machine.

He wanted mornings that stretched slow and warm. Shared showers. Matching mugs. Sundays where neither of you said much because you didn’t have to.

And maybe, in a different world, he could’ve let himself believe in that. But this wasn’t that world. This was the world where he’d crossed a line he couldn’t uncross. Where every time he thought about seeing you again, his body remembered too much—the flush in your cheeks, the arch of your back, the tremble in your thighs—and his shame swallowed every kind thing he could’ve said to you.

So he stayed away. Said less. Gave less. Pretended less was fine. And still, when he closed his eyes, it was your voice he heard. Still, when his fingers curled around the edge of the mattress at night, it was you he imagined curling into his chest in the morning.

And the worst part? He knew you saw it. The shift. The silence. The difference. And it was only a matter of time before you asked him why. And Zayne wasn’t sure what would break first—his resolve, or the lie he kept trying to live with.

————

It had been nearly two months.

At first, you didn’t even have the energy to notice it fully. Life was relentless—coursework stacked higher than your sanity could manage, shifts at the café bleeding into study marathons that left your back sore and your eyes burning. You were in survival mode, held together with caffeine, stress, and pure spite. The days blurred. Sleep was a luxury. Eating became mechanical.

And Zayne? Zayne simply… faded.

Or maybe he withdrew. Quietly. Strategically.

At first, you told yourself it was fine. He was busy—always had been. Surgeon hours, demanding cases, sleepless nights. It made sense. And besides, your own world was chaos. You didn’t have time to cling to every unanswered message or missing smile. You were barely holding yourself together.

But after weeks of the same dry, clipped replies—if he replied at all—the truth began to weigh heavier than the excuses.

He hadn’t come by the café. Not once. And that wasn’t nothing. You noticed it in the way your eyes drifted to the door every time the bell chimed. How your heart still leapt—just a little—before your brain caught up with the letdown. You didn’t say anything. Not to your coworkers. Not even to yourself, at first. Because it felt like jinxing something fragile.

You texted him. Light things, soft things. Dumb jokes, photos of your busted espresso machine with “RIP” typed underneath. Even a photo of the last pistachio macaron, captioned you missed your chance, old man.

Most of it got no reply. The few responses you did get were sterile. Efficient.

Busy. Sorry.

In surgery.

Later.

You called twice. Once, it went to voicemail after five rings. The second time, he picked up—breath tight, voice clipped, as if you’d interrupted something you weren’t supposed to.

“Zayne?” you had said, soft, hopeful.

“I can’t talk,” he replied, low and sharp, background noise too chaotic to place. “Emergency bypass. I’ll call you later.”

He didn’t.

And still, you waited. Waited because you’d come to know Zayne—not just the sharp lines of his face, or the way his mouth tugged when he smirked. You knew how long it took for him to open up. How care from him came in gestures, in precision. In remembering how you took your coffee, in placing his palm over yours when words failed him.

This wasn’t him forgetting you. This was avoidance. You could feel it. The way people do when they’ve been dropped without the courtesy of a fall.

You didn’t know what exactly changed. You went over scenarios, again and again, dragging your own memory through every small interaction. Had you said something wrong? Texted too much? Not enough? You even wondered—on nights when the loneliness ached a little too deep—if maybe he’d gotten tired of you. Realized you weren’t worth the softness he offered.

But deep down, past all the spiraling, the dread, the overthinking—you knew this wasn’t boredom. Or indifference. This was deliberate. And it hurt. More than you let yourself admit.

So one night, after a particularly shitty shift where a customer made you cry in the back room and your professor smugly handed back your project with a disappointing grade and too much red ink, you walked home in the rain. Alone. No umbrella. Soaked to the bone. Shivering.

And that night—that exact night—something inside you snapped. Because you were done. Done pretending not to notice. Done excusing the silence. Done wondering what the hell you did wrong when he wouldn’t even give you the decency of honesty.

You stood in your tiny apartment, hair dripping onto the floor, and stared at your phone like it held answers. It didn’t. Just unread messages, unanswered questions, and a contact name that used to make your heart skip.

And now only made it sink.

You wrapped yourself in a blanket. Sat on your bed. Let your frustration burn low beneath your ribs, steady and unresolved. Because if Zayne wasn’t going to speak? Then maybe you would.

You tried for another two weeks. Texts. Calls. Even one stupid meme that made you think of him—something dry and sarcastic and exactly the kind of humor he used to pretend not to laugh at. You sent it without thinking, half hoping it would shake something loose.

It didn’t.

Everything stayed the same: unanswered, unread, unreturned. And slowly, your frustration melted into something worse. Something heavier.

Hurt.

It settled in the pit of your stomach and made itself a home—not sharp like a blade, but dull, persistent. A quiet erosion of all the trust you’d built, day by day, moment by moment, in soft smiles and slower conversations that had once felt like safety.

You didn’t understand. You’d always thought highly of him—more than he probably realized. It wasn’t just about his career, though that alone could’ve been intimidating. Zayne was… steady. Quiet. Thoughtful in a way that never needed to be spoken aloud. He noticed things. He remembered them. He showed up in the background without fanfare, and somehow that meant more than all the dramatic, hollow promises anyone else ever gave you.

And somewhere along the way, it started to matter. A lot.

Too much.

You liked the way his glasses slipped down his nose when he was tired. The way his dry remarks always carried a thread of warmth buried beneath them—like he wasn’t as cold as he wanted the world to believe. The way he looked at you, sometimes, when you caught him off guard. Not wide-eyed or stunned—just present. Like he really saw you. All of you.

And maybe, deep down, you were starting to fall for him. But you never dared to say it. Because your life was chaos. Cracked at the seams. Uni was a warzone, work was survival, and half the time you were scraping by with four hours of sleep and a granola bar as dinner. Zayne was a surgeon. Respected. Calm. A man with a path so clear, it felt blasphemous to imagine him sidestepping it for someone like you—messy, disorganized, exhausted.

You were barely keeping yourself afloat. And now… the one thing that felt like an anchor—your friendship with him—had started to sink too. Slowly. Quietly. Without warning.

That’s what hurt the most. Not knowing why.

You replayed every conversation, every joke, every soft moment. Searched for the crack, for the mistake, for the shift in his gaze that might’ve told you when things changed. But there was nothing. Just absence. Just silence. Like a door closing without a sound.

It was a Thursday night when it all hit you at once. University had drained every last bit of patience from you—another group project where you carried the weight, another professor who condescended with a smile, another assignment deadline that loomed like a guillotine. And then came work, where the line stretched to the door and your manager blamed you for the broken milk frother. A man snapped at you for getting his order wrong when he hadn’t even spoken clearly. A teenage girl rolled her eyes when you handed her the wrong size cup.

By the end of the shift, you could barely keep your hands from shaking. You clocked out late. Walked past your apartment. And just kept going. No headphones. No destination. Just footsteps and cold air and the ache in your chest that refused to quiet down. The streets were quiet—late enough that the bars were winding down, too early for sunrise joggers. You shoved your hands deep into your coat pockets and stared at the sidewalk like it could offer you something you’d lost.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for. You just knew that if you stopped walking, you’d cry. And not the soft kind. Not the cinematic, beautiful kind. No—it would be ugly. Angry. Frustrated and furious that someone like Zayne—someone who used to make you feel like maybe you weren’t entirely alone in the world—could just vanish. Without reason. Without a word. The thought made your throat close. You turned a corner. Slowed. Pressed your fingers against your eyes as the burn started to rise.

You missed him. You missed Zayne. And the longer the silence stretched, the louder one truth kept echoing in your chest. Something between you had broken. And you still had no idea why.

————

It started as a drizzle—the kind of rain that didn’t feel real until it soaked through the collar of your coat. You barely noticed it at first, too deep in your own spiral to care. But then a cold drop smacked hard against your cheek, and you blinked.

Then another. Then dozens. And before long, the sky opened up above you.

You stopped walking as the downpour hit in full. Cold. Sharp. Merciless. You tilted your head up, let it slap against your skin like it had a point to make. And for some reason, the only reaction you could manage was a laugh. A single, bitter, humorless huff of a sound that cracked at the end.

Of course. Of fucking course it had to rain. So cliché.

You stood there, soaked and shaking and done with everything—this day, this week, this version of your life. You let out a breath so heavy it felt like it carried your entire soul, and then… you walked. Not toward home. Not toward shelter. Just… forward.

Cars passed, tires hissing through puddles. People bustled past with umbrellas, barely sparing you a glance. You might’ve looked deranged—soaking wet, clothes clinging to your body, hair dripping into your eyes, walking like you had nowhere left to be.

And then one car slowed.

You didn’t notice it right away. Not until the brake lights flared beside you and the low purr of the engine crawled into your awareness. The passenger window rolled down, letting in a wave of warm air and the sound of your name spoken low and sharp—like disbelief wrapped in concern.

"—What the hell are you doing out here?"

You stopped. The rain blurred everything, but not his voice.

Zayne.

You turned slowly, eyes wide, breath caught in your throat. For a second, you genuinely believed you were hallucinating. Your mind, fractured and soaked through, playing tricks on you. But then you saw him—hand on the steering wheel, brow furrowed in stunned alarm, hair damp at the edges like he’d just come from work. His tie was loosened, the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

He looked… shaken. But not as much as you.

You said nothing. You just stared. And he had none of it.

“Get in the car,” he said—low, urgent, seeing straight through your silence, your soaking sleeves, your cracking expression.

Still, you didn’t move. His eyes narrowed, voice dipping softer. “You’re freezing.”

That did it. You swallowed hard against everything rising up in your throat and opened the door, sliding into the passenger seat without a word, dripping rain onto his pristine upholstery. You stared ahead. He didn’t comment. Didn’t even flinch. He just started driving. But the silence was suffocating.

Your breath caught in your chest, your fingers curled around the damp hem of your coat. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye—the way he gripped the wheel a little too tightly, the way his eyes refused to meet yours for more than a flicker. He looked calm. Composed. Like this wasn’t the first time in two months you’d seen each other. Like he hadn’t disappeared. Like he hadn’t left you wondering what you’d done wrong.

You hated how casual his voice sounded when he finally broke the silence. “I didn’t expect to see you out here. This late, and in the pouring rain, no less.”

You turned your head slowly, disbelief etched across your face. “That’s what you’re opening with?”

He glanced at you, brief, unreadable. “You’re wet and shaking. What would you prefer?”

You laughed. Sharp. Bitter. Loud enough to make him blink. “You’re unbelievable.”

He didn’t reply.

The tension wound tighter. You could see his jaw clench, the flicker of something behind his eyes that he didn’t want you to see. He kept driving, like it was just another day. Just another shift. Just another one of your normal, quiet encounters—like he hadn’t been ghosting you for weeks. Like he didn’t get to act like nothing happened.

When he pulled up outside your apartment, you unbuckled your seatbelt with trembling fingers.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said flatly. Then you got out and slammed the car door so hard the whole vehicle shook.

You didn’t even feel satisfied doing it. You just had to do something—anything—to keep the tears from breaking loose in front of him. You were halfway up the building steps, feet squelching with every step, when you heard the car door open again. Then slam shut.

“Wait.”

You didn’t stop. You didn’t want to see him being composed again, not when your chest was tight and your teeth were clenched and everything inside you was fucking unraveling.

But he didn’t listen. Zayne sprinted after you—into the pouring rain, shoes slapping the pavement, soaking within seconds—and you heard his footsteps echo behind you before he caught up.

“Wait—damn it—just wait!”

You turned around, rain cascading over your face, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst right through your ribs.

He stood a few feet away. Dripping. Soaked. Chest heaving slightly from the run. His hair was plastered to his forehead, eyes wild and hurting. And for the first time in weeks, he didn’t look composed at all.

You turned on him. Not loud. Not theatrical. You didn’t scream or shove at his chest, though your body burned with the want of it. The rain poured down harder now, so cold it felt like punishment. The streets were slick with silver, your hair clinging to your cheeks, your fingertips numb. And still, you didn’t yell.

You seethed.

“Two months, Zayne.” your voice shook with fury you could barely hold in. “Two months of silence. Of short replies and canceled calls and empty space where you used to be.”

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. You didn’t let him interrupt. You couldn’t. Because if you stopped now, your voice would crack—and you refused to give him that.

“I was going through hell,” you continued, quieter this time, but no less sharp. “Uni is a nightmare. Work’s draining the life out of me. I’m barely surviving most days. And do you know what the one constant in my life used to be? You.”

His expression changed then, just slightly. Like something inside him finally registered the depth of it. The weight of what he’d done—or hadn’t done.

“And then you just…” you laughed again, bitter and breathless. “You just disappeared. Like I didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t supposed to notice.”

Rain dripped off your jaw. Your coat hung heavy on your shoulders, soaked through to the skin, but you didn’t move.

“I texted. I called. I made excuses for you. Told myself you were busy. That you were tired. That maybe I’d done something wrong. Do you know what it feels like to doubt yourself every fucking day because someone you trusted suddenly decided to vanish without explanation?”

Zayne’s jaw tightened, his glasses streaked with water, his suit soaked beyond saving — and still he didn’t speak. Didn’t deny it. Didn’t offer a single fucking word. And it made something inside you snap.

“Say something,” you whispered, furious. “Anything, Zayne.”

He looked at you—eyes full of guilt and something deeper, something cracked wide open—but still, nothing came.

That silence? It undid you, made you so angry. You turned away, your throat burning. “Fuck this.”

You made for the apartment entrance with shaking legs, your boots squeaking against the wet tile as you yanked open the building door. The instinct was to slam it. To shut it in his face, in his silence, in his guilt. But you didn’t. You left it open.

Because despite everything, he was soaked through. Because you still cared. Because some pathetic, stubborn part of you still held out a hand toward the connection you’d once shared—the one he seemed determined to ruin.

You walked up the stairs without turning around. But you heard his footsteps. Wet and soft behind you. And when you unlocked your apartment and stepped inside, trembling and breathless, you couldn’t stop yourself from spinning on your heel—eyes red with unshed rage.

"You could’ve told me. Anything. Anything, Zayne. You could’ve said you were overwhelmed. Or that you didn’t want to talk. Or that I annoyed you. But no. You said nothing. You just vanished. Like a fucking coward.”

That one cut deeper than you meant. You saw it in the flicker of pain that crossed his face. But you didn’t take it back. Couldn’t. You huffed sharply, tossing your keys onto the table with a loud clatter, too hard, too much, and kicked your wet shoes off like they were enemies.

“Get in or go,” you muttered, voice hoarse. “But close the door either way.”

You turned from him again, hands trembling, heart racing, and this time you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. Because if you did, you’d break. And right now, you were holding the last of yourself together with fraying thread and spite alone.

The door clicked shut behind him. You didn’t turn around, but you heard it—that small, weighted sound. A huff escaped your chest before you could stop it, a mix between disbelief and bitter relief. He stayed. Of course he did. Despite everything, despite the silence and the distance and the way he’d hurt you—some small, aching thread of hope still clung to your ribs, whispering that maybe he wouldn’t walk away this time.

You hated that hope.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath as you strode into your room, shoulders squared in frustration, limbs stiff from cold and fury. “Absolutely fucking unbelievable.”

The anger gave you something to do. Something to cling to. Your hands moved on instinct, yanking open drawers with too much force, shoving aside old clothes, socks, forgotten sweaters. You found a pair of sweatpants—soft cotton, probably from your uncle’s old stash—and an oversized t-shirt that might've once been your ex’s but had long since lost meaning. They were clean. Dry. Comfortable.

Not nearly enough to fit Zayne’s tall, broad frame properly. Good. Let it be uncomfortable. Let him drown in it.

And still… you dug out a towel. Because you knew him. You knew how he got when he was sick—quiet, fussy, prone to pretending he was fine while sniffling into his sleeve and stubbornly refusing to take anything stronger than lukewarm tea. You hated how that memory softened something in your chest even now.

You marched back into the hallway and tossed the bundle of clothes and towel at him—not hard, but not gently either. You didn’t say a word. Just turned and stomped toward the bathroom, your own change of clothes clutched to your chest.

Zayne caught the clothes with a grunt, silent, soaked and still at the threshold like he wasn’t sure he deserved to go any further.

And then you shut the door. The shower came on in a sharp hiss of water, and you stood under it without even checking the temperature, letting it scald your skin, hoping the burn would melt something—the knot in your throat, the tremble in your hands, the goddamn ache in your chest that still wanted to reach for him despite everything.

You didn’t cry. But your jaw ached from how tightly you clenched it, your nails biting into your palms as the steam curled around you. Because if you didn’t get control of yourself now, you’d explode. And you didn’t want to say the things you were thinking.

Didn’t want to scream about how dare he come back acting like nothing happened. About how sick it made you to still care, to still think about whether he’d be warm enough, dry enough, comfortable enough—when he’d left you alone with silence and doubt and confusion for two goddamn months.

Meanwhile, outside the bathroom door, Zayne stood in the quiet, the clothes limp in his hands, his own wet frame slowly steaming in the warmer air of your apartment. He didn’t move right away because he couldn’t. Your voice still rang in his ears—low, trembling, furious. Not just angry. Wounded. Like he’d taken something sacred and shattered it with his silence.

He hadn’t known. Not truly. Not until tonight. He thought he’d pulled away cleanly. Quietly. That maybe you would notice but wouldn’t feel it like this. He had told himself he was protecting something. Sparing you from the mess of his own failure. That it was better this way, to leave without saying too much, before whatever quiet affection lingered between you could twist into something irreversible.

But he’d been wrong. So deeply, undeniably wrong. And now the proof of it clung to your skin, raw in your voice, etched into the way you threw clothes at him like they were both a comfort and a punishment. He didn’t blame you. Not for a single second. Because this was his fault. All of it.

And the worst part? He still didn’t know how to fix it.

He changed into the clothes—awkward, uncomfortable, the fabric tight across his chest and barely reaching past his wrists. He ran the towel through his hair in silence, chest aching with every minute that passed, replaying your words over and over until they carved themselves into him like a wound. Because he couldn’t shake the image of your face in the rain.

He had done that. And nothing—no silence, no apology, no excuse—would make it disappear.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST HERE AND ON MY AO3.

.ᐟ✧ translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites ARE NOT permitted. please do not ask. do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own. thank you!

taglist: @syluslittlecrows, @asiaticapple, @beaconsxd, @floofycookie, @deepspacedarling

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deep space #loveanddeepspace #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #dr zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lnds zayne #li shen #zayne x mc #zayne lads #zayne x you #doctor zayne #zayne li

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kisakis-boyfriend · 5 months ago

Note

Now, I never played Persona 3 but the protagonist looks breedable. So The Persona 3 protagonist (the male one) investigating an haunted/creepy site only to meet an horny male werewolf reader who fucks them 🎃

Author's Note: Makoto truly is one of the hottest persona protags (possibly even one of the hottest characters in general). Not to mention both of his English VAs did a fantastic job! I could gush over Makoto all day…so I'm just going to let the smut to the talking now 😶‍🌫️

Pairings: Makoto Yuki x male reader

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, paranormal investigator!Makoto, adult Makoto, sub/bottom!Makoto, dubcon, finger sucking, dry orgasms, premature ejaculation(?)

This was supposed to be an easy job for once. Another "haunted" old cabin, multiple eye witnesses and videos and pictures worth of "proof", only to end up being a hoax unintentionally created by some local kids. He's been there and done that, time and time again. So, this place should not be any different, right?

Well… as luck would have it, Makoto would finally encounter something paranormal — a real experience, unlike the majority of his previous calls.

That's how Makoto ended up here; bent over a desk with the air knocked from his lungs while something wet drips all over the back of his body.

Drool drips from your snarling mouth, pooling on the back of the human's shirt, while your cock drips all over the ass of his pants and slides down the sides. You keep one clawed hand on the back of the human's head, and the other on his waist to prevent him from escaping.

The scent of iron and dirt burns Makoto's nostrils, invading every deep inhale as he's just short of hyperventilating. You're obviously not any sort of spectre, nor spirit nor ghostly being—you're really more of a beast, though your features are still quite human in nature. The man's best guess is a werewolf. Whatever you are, he's seen enough to know that he doesn't want to stick around any longer.

Attempts at wiggling free don't go so well, only building up Makoto's frustration and yours. Silly as it may sound to think a beast can understand the human language, he decides to try it anyway. “What do you- hnngh… what do you want?!” he hisses, “Are you the one…causing trouble, scaring the locals?”

You almost want to laugh at that absurd question. Causing trouble, he says. “Me? Please, ask yourself who's the real troublemaker here; the dozens of humans trashing my house and surrounding woods, or me, the guy who's lived here for decades — long before that filth migrated in.” you growl. Ignorant, ignorant humans as always.

“If anyone here is a troublemaker, it's you–” your razor-like nails dig into Makoto's side, and he winces, glaring at you with the eye not covered by his hair. “walking in here with that sexy body of yours, having the audacity to bend over and pick things up and present that fine ass for me.”

The human's heart leaps within his chest, pounding away loudly while he grips the edge of the table harder. “Your job is to help people, yeah? You wanna help these people? Then…” you lean down, covering the human's body with your heat, and whisper in his ear; “…give me the relief I need to not be so fuckin' grumpy, maybe I'll let some of their idiotic actions slide, hm?”

Truly, Makoto should protest, or try to run, literally do anything to fight this situation, but he doesn't. For some reason, he feels like…like he wants to see where this goes.

When you yank his pants down and flip up his jacket, he doesn't stop you. When you rest your heavy, leaking cock in between his cheeks and groan like a perv, he's not disgusted by it. When you let go of his head and stuff your fingers in his mouth, his tongue dances in between the spaces of your digits.

It's a surprise to you too, when the smaller human man lifts his ass up, almost inviting you—giving you permission—to fuck him. And you're not about to pass up a cute slut like this.

Makoto's knees shake when you spit on his hole, giving him at least a tiny courtesy before you break his body with your cock. Your tip pushes incessantly at his entrance, adding slippery precum to it as you swipe your cock up and down, then finally slip the head in. The human flinches, nearly causing himself to choke on your fingers, but he recovers just fine and makes no signs of protest.

Soon enough, you're moving a few inches of your length in and out, enjoying the tightness around only a third of your dick. “Sho mush…sho big…” he slurs, unable to properly enunciate with your fingers keeping his mouth occupied. Little does he realize how big your full length is. You push a little more, and the human moans again, drool spilling out from the corners of his mouth while his ass stretches to accommodate the larger girth filling it up.

“Big, yeah? You think this is big, little guy? This ain't even halfway in yet~” you taunt, keeping a tight hold on his waist. At this point, you're confident that he can take plenty more without breaking yet, so you go a little harder until half of your dick is pumping in and out. “Mmm feel that? Now that is halfway in. Feels even better, right?”

“aAahAAAHhhNn–!! gHNH-!” Makoto spasms on the table, whining something unintelligible while his body twitches. Slightly concerned, you ask him what the hell that was all about, but he doesn't answer you. Frustrated, you remove your fingers from his mouth and yank his body up by his hair, forcing him to stand while you inspect the situation.

It only takes a second for you to notice the puddle of translucent white fluid dripping from the edge of the wooden table and onto the ground, with a matching fluid dribbling from Makoto's flushed dick.

“Goddamn– cummin' before me…I haven't even fucked you yet, little guy. Is it that good for you?” you laugh, pulling the human's head back so far that he's forced to look up at you, meeting your gaze with pink cheeks and cloudy eyes.

With a newfound confidence, and a newfound horniness, you decide that your little slut is more than ready to take it all in. Makoto makes a little noise at first, but when you bottom out and, finally, begin thrusting with intent, those noises turn into happy little moans and whimpers. The fucked out look on his face is proof enough that your fat cock is hitting the right places—filling his tummy with butterflies with every long drag against his walls.

Makoto holds onto your arms for dear life, taking your length like the good boy he is, while you rail him with enough force to knock him over, if you weren't holding his smaller body. “Ah-ah-ah-yes-yes-yes-!!” he stutters, smiling like he's on cloud nine. “Ah! Hard-er! Harderharderharder~!!”

When you blow your first load in him, the tightness of Makoto's ass and the strong scent of his hormones are enough to make your eyes roll back. Your hips slam into him a few times to empty all of your cum in there, and each time only brings the human that much closer to a complete mindbreak.

“Ooohhfuck… haah~ That was fuckin' good er- damn, I never got your name, did I?” The human shakes his head 'no', panting as his dick stays stiff as a board, red from cumming a second time.

He mutters something under his breath, but you can't quite make it out. You ask him to repeat it and he replies, “it'sss…Makoto…” in a sleepy, worn out tone.

“Well, Makoto, you think you're up for more?” you're asking, but not really asking…because you're going to fuck him again regardless. After all, all of these dumbass locals keep you stressed out every damn day — at this point, a full 24 hours of sex probably wouldn't be enough, much less one tiny orgasm.

Makoto lazily nods along, grinning up at you while you scratch his scalp affectionately. He has zero time to react as you begin thrusting again, ready to pound his hole until it's permanently molded to your shape.

His ass tightens around you again, and a third round of cum shoots out of his dick as it slaps against his warm body. His dick seems to stay hard even after that, turning redder by the minute, all while you ensure that his ass will be left gaping and oozing with your seed long after you're satisfied.

By the time you fill him up again, Makoto has orgasmed five times before, and his sixth nearly causes his voice to crack as his whole body convulses in your arms — his twitching cock shoots nothing this time, and the human is left with only dry orgasms for the rest of the day. Meanwhile, you have no intentions of stopping yet, even if it means your new human will fall unconscious—he'll still be your fuck doll while he rests.

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kumkaniudaku · 29 days ago

Text

First

Summary: Terry and Patrice take their relationship to the next level.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: Smut (18+)

For a breezy September Friday off the coast of an island, Patrice was dealing with a heat that was too sweltering to ignore.

Initially, she assumed the sudden increase in her body temperature was the natural result of driving from the comforts of North Carolina to the muggy, humid haven the United States Marine Corps called Parris Island. It wasn't much of an island, according to Terry, as he talked a mile a minute during their Family Day gathering while she tried to focus on stabbing blanched green beans with her fork and not how his bottom lip glistened from water droplets reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. But that didn't make much sense. Diedra spent the entire dinner complaining about the steady blast of frigid air blowing through the AC vent and how it was aggravating a shoulder injury sustained in a tennis match from her high school years.

The next day, while dressed in their Sunday's best on Friday morning, Patrice tried to blame the constant waves of internal heat on a relentless South Carolina sun illuminating young men and women from every corner of the world as they transitioned from American civilians to the few and proud fighting force they'd been auditioning to join for 13 grueling weeks. While Terry received praise from his proud parents and excitable twin sisters, Patrice could feel sweat sliding down the valley between her shoulder blades. Her mind slowed to a creep with only thoughts of how good Terry looked in uniform. Starched blue pants highlighting long, muscled legs more typical of a Greek god provided a straight shot to a waist so cinched, Wilhelmina models would stare daggers and drop their jaws in envy and awe.

A hug encapsulating 91 days of missed time and an hour-long ride back to their Hilton Head accommodation for the weekend cooled Patrice temporarily, nearly tricking her into believing her hypothesis was correct. Then Terry touched her too close to the part of her that hadn't quite met him yet.

In the last row of his family's rented minivan, with twin ten year old's in minute ten of an argument about nothing important, mentally exhausted parents trying to play referee, and Terry's hand innocently resting on her leg while he scrolled through the playlist of missed releases she'd compiled for him on her iPod, Patrice's brain drifted back to lessons learned in Napheesa and Victoria's dorm room.

Once Patrice's nails were painted Bubble Bath pink and nether regions were free from a near nightmare at the hands of Patrice and a bottle of Nair bikini cream, a crash course in fucking became little more than a glorified rehashing of sex education courses and giggling through dirty movies on Phee's laptop as a group. Patrice took what little valuable information existed in their makeshift classroom and tried to turn them into instructional videos in her mind. For research purposes, of course.

Vivid images of Terry on top, beneath, and behind her body completely overtook Patrice's brain, sending her body back into a sauna with her as the lone inhabitant. Patrice's heartbeat had gone south, creating an uncomfortable ache between her thighs that forced her ankles to cross in hopes of release. She squirmed in her seat and let her lips part to draw in a shaky breath. The world around her fell away. Thoughts of kissing, biting, and touching replaced tangible sights and sounds. She'd slipped into that special place in her dreams where fantasies were damn near reality.

"You good, Treecey? Terry's voice alone slammed Patrice into the present and flushed her body with unbearable heat. She blinked twice and looked to her right to find her boyfriend looking at her. "I was talkin', and you didn't say anything. You alright? Need me to shut up for a second?"

Patrice tried to quell Terry's bubbling anxiety by forcing a smile as she subtly threaded her fingers between his to give her senses a break. "I-I'm fine. I'm just thinking about how happy I am to have you back. Congratulations, TJ. I love you."

"I love you more," He spoke against the back of Patrice's hand before gracing it with a kiss. "This B.o.B song sucks, by the way. Who the fuck is Bruno Mars?"

"Ooooh! Mama, Terrence said a cuss word!"

The hotel room she shared with Zorah and Zanah provided temporary respite, shielding her from the sweltering heat of the backseat and replacing it with the heat of overstimulation. Twin girls fascinated by long box braids tugged at tender roots to practice their plaiting skills while a heavy, shaved head compressed vital nerves in her thigh. Terry had long allowed his first solo shower in months and a comfortable couch to lull him into a deep sleep, leaving Patrice to entertain her talkative inherited sisters until Deidra and Marvin stepped in to put her out of her misery.

When she offered to end Terry's slumber prematurely, Dee politely waved her off.

"No, no," Diedra conceded, still looking at her baby boy's chest rise and fall peacefully. A half smile graced her face as she shifted her focus to Patrice. "When he wakes up, give us a call. Marvin will come back and get you two. We'll have lunch near the pier."

"I will?"

Dee turned to her husband and lowered her glasses to reveal the fire dancing behind her expressive eyes. "Marvin James, don't make me get ugly. If my baby wakes up and wants to get to the beach, he'll get to that beach!"

Patrice couldn't believe her stroke of luck. She'd hoped and prayed for a sliver of alone time in the hours-long trip down South but never imagined it'd be presented to her on a platter without begging on her hands and knees.

A resting boyfriend and unlimited access to the television should have been enough to keep Patrice occupied until hunger gnawed at her stomach. But logic left with the rest of the Richmonds to enjoy the sun and sand, leaving Patrice with an overactive mind and that pesky heat spreading from a pit deep inside her belly to the meeting at her thighs.

She tried to ignore what she now knew as desire creeping in to act as the devil on her shoulder, reminding her of the opportunity literally resting in her lap. There were other entertainment options – other ways to pass the time until Terry had refueled his energy reserve and released her from her duty as a human mattress. Patrice gave them all a whirl. Text messages to Napheese and Victoria went unanswered. Random Google searches quickly ran their course. SpongeBob was never as funny as Junior tried to convince her, and a missing remote removed the option to seek another show to pass the time.

A look down gave her another avenue to explore. Terry's eyes danced behind closed lids while his mouth hung open to sing a little tune of exhaustion. He looked so peaceful. Too peaceful. Boredom convinced Patrice to trail her index finger down the peak of his cheekbones, to the tip of his nose, and across his bottom lip. Her exploration briefly stirred Terry out of his sleep.

"Stop, Z. Leave my face alone before I tell Mom," Terry grunted, chastising a ghost as he fanned a hand in front of his face.

Patrice giggled. "There's nobody in here but us, TJ. They left us behind because you won't wake up."

"Well, you stop. Give me a few more minutes." Terry never opened an eye to acknowledge the frown on Patrice's face, instead choosing to turn onto his back and drape his legs over the arm of the couch.

"You know there's beds in here, right? Why cram yourself on this small ass couch when you can sleep in one of them?"

Terry shook his head to dismiss Patrice's comment. "I like sleepin' on you, though. Let me have a little longer, and we can go to the pool or something. Swear, baby."

Enlisting his secret weapon seemed to appease Patrice momentarily, judging by her sweet kiss on his forehead. He popped open an eye and found his reward in her beautiful face and grin.

"Promise," Patrice questioned, her eyes glittering and hopeful as she gazed down at Terry. "I really want to spend time with you. There's something I think we should talk about."

"Promise. We can talk about whatever you want in 10 minutes. Set an alarm and everything."

Pressing up on his elbows, Terry sealed his confirmation with a soft peck to Patrice's lips before settling back into her lap. She took the kiss as a sacred covenant and allowed Terry to return to sleep without protest, hoping the twenty minutes would fly by like 20 seconds. In many ways, time obeyed her command for speed. Patrice barely registered the clock ticking away as she studied missed class notes shared in her American Government group chat. But, then, 10 minutes turned into 20 despite the alarm's trill ringing throughout the room, effectively demoralizing a young woman feeling a golden opportunity slip through her fingers.

Silence and the feel of thighs on his cheeks introduced Terry to a false sense of security that came crashing to a halt once Patrice lifted his head from her lap and carefully lowered it to the couch cushions to maintain his neck's integrity. Terry's eyes shot open in time to see Patrice searching for her flip-flops and beach bag. He rushed to his feet.

"Woah, woah," Terry rasped, still trying to find his voice in a throat dry from deep sleep. Long strides helped him catch her before she could dash toward the door. "Where you going? I thought we were hanging out."

Patrice shrugged. "It's okay. We can wait until tomorrow. I didn't realize how tired you'd be afterward, so my bad. Want some food from downstairs?"

"No," Terry scoffed as if offended by the notion that he might want sustenance. "I want you to stay with me. Come here."

A face once contorted into a despondent frown quickly morphed into one filled with immeasurable joy as Terry walked Patrice back toward the bedroom with his lips attached to her jawline. Half-hearted calls for him to stop tickling the base of her neck with his tongue went ignored, turning her into a giggling mess, excited for the affection she'd been craving.

Blind steps and eager snogging held their undivided attention, leaving size 13.5 feet to fumble through a maze of small suitcases and discarded backpacks until the bed designated for Patrice provided a soft landing spot for two crazy kids slowly falling in love.

Shared laughter mixed harmoniously once they hit the sheets with a dull thud. Patrice welcomed Terry's weight with her wrists crossed at the nape of his neck. He happily obliged her unspoken request, pressing his torso on the body he'd committed to learning every curve and contour. Simple, chaste kisses reacquainted their lips, each peck lasting longer than the one before.

Patrice reveled in the attention, arching into Terry's embrace and giggling once he covered her face in intentionally messy love letters.

"You so fuckin' cute," Terry mumbled against Patrice's cheek, punctuating each word with a kiss. He pulled away to tap her nose and grin. "Even prettier in person. My dreams weren't worth a damn. Motherfuckers had my brain scrambled from day one," he laughed.

"Drill sergeants were on your ass that bad?"

"Hell yeah! I should've took my ass to school. Fuck football," Terry laughed.

In 13 weeks, the memories he'd conjured of her appearance day in and day out had missed so many wonderful details. He'd forgotten the beauty mark on her right cheek and how her ears wiggled when she spoke. He'd somehow forgotten how her eyes glittered in the sun and how her smell often entered the room before she did. That unique mix of sweet strawberry and the fairy dust naturally gifted to Black women awakened him like no drill sergeant ever could. Patrice was back in the flesh, tracing aimless patterns on his skin and absorbing warm sun rays like a goddess made exclusively for him.

"You said you wanted to talk. What's up?" The question barely left Terry's lips before his nose was back against the crook of Patrice's neck while he focused on French kissing her collarbone.

A rush of heat consumed every spot his mouth touched, turning thoughts into useless sludge milling about Patrice's brainwaves. She opened her mouth to speak plenty of times as Terry's fingers danced across her belly beneath her tank top in search of her bathing suit top.

Patrice's breath hitched once Terry found his treasure, kneading the soft mound of her left breast before rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger. In their short sports of exploration, he'd become something of a master of touch. He'd learned when to graze his fingertips over her supple skin gently and when to grip or squeeze his favorite spots to elicit the quiet, heart-flipping whimper he'd seared into the ridges of his developing brain.

Any words she'd intended to share became a low moan as Terry turned all his attention to grinding his front against hers to meet the demand she'd silently set by doing the same. Thin blends of nylon and polyester covering their most intimate bits absorbed frantic friction as they drove each other crazy while fully clothed. Part of them braced for intrusion. On too many occasions, an interruption had robbed them of whatever existed on the other side of an unfamiliar coiling in the pit of their stomachs. Only Terry knew what might happen if they were ever allowed to carry out the full extent of their private experience. He'd felt the fruits of wrist labor once or twice when the house was empty and fantasizing wasn't enough for a young man entering a new phase of life.

Intrusion, however, never came. They were free. Free of distractions, free of fear, and free to approach a volcanic eruption together.

Strained sounds mixed with the cartoon theme song playing in the background as Terry built up a rhythm that creaked the bedframe. Patrice clutched the back of his Marine Corps t-shirt with both hands, her mouth opening to whisper "Oh my God" to the ceiling. Pressure corked inside her body bubbled to the surface. Her body tingled like some unseen force had gifted her superpowers. White hot flames warmed the blood pumping through her veins.

"Terry, I…" Patrice started before the words became choked inside her throat. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I-I think…I think I'm ready to- to have sex."

The part of Terry's brain he'd flipped off to focus on a new kind of romantic expression suddenly lit up like Christmas lights. He pulled away from Patrice's neck to look into her eyes. "What?"

"I want to have sex. With you. If…if you want to have sex with me. You can say no. I won't be mad."

Patrice's timid voice and shy eyes sent Terry's heartbeat into overdrive more than her admission. He gazed down at her and cleaned lip gloss from the corner of her lips with his thumb before answering. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah," Patrice whispered as the evil grip of shame began to creep in.

"You sure you want to? Don't think you gotta -"

A manicured finger placed light pressure on his lips to stop more words from coming forth. "I'm sure, Terry. I've been thinking about this for a really long time. I know what I want, and I know I want it with you." Patrice moved her hand to hold the sides of Terry's face and bring him to her lips for another deep kiss. She spoke against his mouth. "Please. I only wanna do this with you."

She drove a hard bargain. With a face like that and words so sincere they felt more like scriptures than a request, how could Terry deny her? Terry swallowed hard and nodded his agreement. "Yeah, me too. Only with you."

Nerves gripped Terry in a spiral of fear as he led a fiery kiss to distract from the inevitable. He'd only mastered fondling and the mechanics of tongue hide and seek, not the assumed complexities of intercourse. Talks with his father, older cousins, and friends were only half the equation. The mechanics – the actual nitty-gritty application of the deed – were as foreign as Mandarin in his young mind. Logic told him to be honest about his novice status and save himself from embarrassment. Pride and ego told him to fake it until things made sense. He chose the latter voice as he left the familiarity of making out to stand in front of the first girl to ever get this close to seeing him naked.

Terry tried to feign confidence as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor beside his feet. Step one was easy enough. Patrice propped herself on her elbows to watch him disrobe, barely concealing the grin spreading across her lips as Terry hooked his thumbs at the waistband of his trunks and pulled them down.

Patrice didn't know what to expect. The only time she'd come into contact with anybody's genitalia but her own was via a screen when curiosity got the best of her and online websites answered questions she wouldn't dare ask aloud. She'd seen photos and diagrams galore, but none of her research could prepare her for seeing Terry naked as the day he came into the world.

Her eyes traveled down his torso, made a pitstop at the part of him standing at attention, then back up to his shifty eyes to smile in appreciation for his trust. "Wow."

"Don't make it weird, Patrice," Terry groaned. "It's already sort of embarrassing."

"I'm sorry! I just…may I…touch you?"

Terry could only blink and nod to grant Patrice permission. His muscles, still sore from the 50+ hours of his training's culminating event, tensed as she stood to examine his body closer. Patrice started at Terry's chest, dragging her digits across the expanse of his broad shoulders before traveling below the navel.

When her fingers teased the point of no return, Terry's eyelids fluttered closed as he let out a sharp breath. "Fuck." The harshness of his expletive became washed away by the gentle kiss on his jawline and the delicate care Patrice put into exploring new depths.

She withdrew just as quickly as she'd made her presence known, leaving Terry aching for her touch again. Patrice stepped back and chewed her bottom lip before speaking. "I guess it's my turn."

"Want me to look away?"

"No," Patrice answered. "I'm okay. You let me look, so it's only fair."

Terry stood awkwardly in place, watching with rapt focus as Patrice rapidly discarded her tank top and cut-off shorts. He fought to keep his eyes inside their socket once a quick tug at the string on her bikini loosened the garment enough to slide off her neck and pool where her arms crossed in front of her chest.

For a moment, Patrice regretted telling Terry not to look away. He seemed to sense her trepidation and quickly softened his gaze. He didn't need words to convince Patrice to commit to what she'd started. With a deep breath, she moved her arms and let the swimsuit top drop to the floor.

It was Terry's turn to voice his surprise. "Woah," he whispered, eyes locked on what he'd never seen up close. He quickly looked back up with a boyish grin to save face. "This is crazy."

"I know, right?" Patrice giggled. Laughter helped lighten the mood, making the final stage of her exhibition the easiest. She stepped out of her bottoms and shrugged. "This is it," she joked. "The big reveal."

"It's perfect. You're beautiful," Terry offered without hesitation.

Patrice diverted her attention to her toes to hide her bashful smile. "Thank you."

"Of course." Terry slid his index finger under her chin and directed Patrice's eyes back to his. He leaned down to initiate a head-spinning, slow kiss. Pulling away left both teenagers breathless. Terry pressed his forehead against Patrice's and smiled. "Can I try something?"

A bevy of outside influences and genuine curiosity led Terry's next steps. He guided Patrice to sit on the bed before he knelt at her feet. His lips started a slow journey at her left knee, kissing his way to her inner thigh like they had the luxury of time on their side.

Patrice watched him under heavy eyelids as she ran her short fingernails across the top of his shaved head. Every lick and suckle against flesh untouched by another added to a feeling of weightlessness she wasn't warned about by her friends. Had they never felt this way? Was it new or wrong or only delivered to two people so energetically aligned their spirits transcended the physical plane of existence? Patrice pushed discovering an answer to the back of her mind once a lick at her navel brought her attention to the hazel and green eyes slowly descending to the apex of her thighs. He inhaled deeply before dropping a kiss where the fire burned the hottest.

Terry had no clue what he was attempting. He only knew the carnal temptation calling him forth and chose to follow what his mind and body desired most. Teammates, family, and friends had warned him about what a taste of nectar might offer. Some asserted they were too macho to enjoy a woman that way, complaining about masculinity mumbo jumbo he only sort of believed. Others mentioned peculiar tastes and smells as deterrents, imploring him to keep the fun strictly body to body. Terry often pretended to agree but could no longer ignore curiosity or the cat.

Hesitant licks around the area quickly introduced a young man full of questions to a world of confirmation he never knew existed. Whatever those other guys were talking about was bullshit. If they'd been in love, Terry thought, maybe they'd have thought twice before spewing nonsense into the world.

Though Heaven and Earth were permanently altered for Terry, Patrice allowed her smile to drop into a grimace as she fought to understand what her body was feeling. Pain wasn't the correct descriptor. Every wet revolution of his tongue in unchartered waters felt silly at best. Quick shocks of pleasure crumbled into long spells of nothing but strange kitten licks, leaving Patrice to wonder if all she'd heard about the deed was a lie.

"Oh, that's…alright," Patrice spoke through a breathy sigh as Terry briefly created a tingle in her toes but missed the mark on a second attempt. She attempted to wiggle her lower half into place, hoping her gesture would guide a young man trying his best to more favorable results.

Hooking his hands around her thighs, Terry pulled Patrice closer and took a beat to speak. "Does that feel good?"

"Um, yeah," she lied, half smiling, hoping he couldn't see through her facade. Quick thinking helped Patrice change the subject. "I want you up here with me, though."

Terry's worry about his performance consumed him before Patrice pulled his face to hers and reignited flames almost snuffed out by fear. Their tongues danced together as skin-on-skin contact sent shivers down their young spines.

Oxytocin flooded their systems equally, turning juvenile feelings into robust, full-grown bonds. Connections forged during intimacy too mature for their young minds to comprehend clung to them like quicksand, slowly clouding their judgment as Terry positioned himself between Patrice's legs.

From Terry's vantage point, Patrice was a vision. With her dark braids spread wildly against a stark white pillowcase, he thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. His calloused fingers traced the perimeter of her face, slid down her graceful neck, and trailed her shoulder on the way to her forearm.

He smiled while adjusting her arms around his neck. "You nervous?"

"A little," she answered, her voice growing small as she stared back at him. "You?"

"A little," he chuckled.

Patrice lifted her head to press a kiss to his lips. "You don't have to be scared of me. Let's just try."

Their entire lives, trying meant final efforts. They'd never attempted anything. Expectations of perfection weighed on them as firstborns tasked with validating parental sacrifices and making entire lineages proud. Patrice wasn't allowed to simply try her best in school. Being top of her class was the demand, and she rose to the occasion despite an often fragile mental state teetering on collapse. Terry could try on the football field. Glory, respect, and champion status were requirements. When he didn't reach the goals set for him before he had any input, he was shipped to a government-sponsored finishing school to earn his stripes a different way.

But in the relative safety of a mid-tier hotel room where no one but each other existed, they'd been permitted to give their best effort without fear of consequence. Terry felt his heart rate match Patrice's as the pulse in her wrist rested on the back of his neck. His eyes drifted toward the space where their hips met, hoping he wouldn't stumble out of the gate and ruin an otherwise perfect afternoon.

One hand gripping his manhood guided him forward while the other held her hip steady. First contact felt like instant warmth in a shallow, heated pool. An untamed fluttering made Terry contract his stomach muscles and sigh as the unknown answered questions he never knew existed inside his mind. Slow, measured movements came with a prayer Terry knew he shouldn't have let cross his mind. He asked for protection, confidence, precision and–

"Shiiit."

Harsh curses pulled Terry out of his mental oasis to focus on Patrice and her face screwed in a mix of emotions. He stilled. "I can stop. I swear. I'm gonna stop."

Discomfort like she'd never known took Patrice by surprise, tensing a body once loose with excitement and forcing out an expletive she hadn't intended to share. As Terry scrambled to pull away, Patrice tightened her grip to stop progress.

"No," she exclaimed, not wanting the culmination of four years to end. Don't! I'm fine." She fought to even her breathing and display a calm exterior to quell Terry's apprehension. Turning her head, she kissed his inner arm three times and looked back into concerned eyes. "I'm okay. Go slow."

More reassurance, presented as encouragement to continue, slowly coaxed Terry back into action. He watched Patrice's face with acute focus, taking in every wince and furrowed brow, waiting for what looked like pain to level into something akin to the bliss one feels after their first lick of ice cream on a scorching Summer day.

An anxious back-and-forth of hips far too tight for the moment remained slow and steady until Patrice's soft grunts of discomfort turned into light, breathy requests for more. More of what, she didn't know. More of the love surrounding them. More of feeling like the only girl in the world. More of having their bodies fit together like the final puzzle pieces, creating a beautiful portrait for them to carry into forever.

Breaths shared in a rhythmic in and out that matched Terry's tempo helped them meld into one being, consumed by their carnal nature. For Terry, the shared energy felt ten times greater than graduating. He'd experienced the highest heights of satisfaction, but none compared to feeling Patrice envelop him in body and heart.

The notion of a kismet connection crossed Patrice's mind as her body relaxed into the deed, and pleasure rushed in like high tide. Their bodies growing slick from sweat cooling limbs running hot under the burden of exertion rivaled fine silk rubbing together in her mind. She'd imagined the scene unfolding before her eye more times than she cared to count. Nothing compared to the high of loving and being loved.

Moving his hand from her hip, Terry trailed his fingertips up the sheets to thread them between the gaps between Patrice's fingers. They locked eyes and giggled before separate, strong tremors turned joy into desire. He gently pecked her lips and nuzzled their noses.

"You good," Terry questioned through heavy breaths.

Patrice gripped his hand tighter and croaked out, "Mhmm," before coiling in her belly stole an opportunity to say more. "Keep goin'."

Connecting physically was a drug worth repeatedly trying to determine if every high would feel this perfect. Sheets jostled around them as Patrick and Spongebob's idiotic chatter became background fodder. Even the sun seemed to burn hotter in reverence of their first foray into lovemaking.

Terry's entire body seized in response to immense, min-numbing pleasure. His breathing went ragged. The grip on Patrice's hand tightened as he rocked himself into her with hips stuttering out of control.

Terry chanted a call to the heavens above while Patrice looked up in awe, snapping mental pictures of his uninhibited euphoria to take as a parting gift when the weekend and all its gifts were no more. Though her approach to the mountaintop was a less earth-shattering occasion, Patrice reveled in the tingles dancing across her body, and the barrage of kisses left on her neck and clavicle as Terry tried to regulate himself.

Silence welcomed two young lovers to reality once Terry's back hit the space beside Patrice. Once they locked eyes, mirrored bright smiles slid across their faces in sync, making way for genuine laughter to bounce off decorated walls.

"I guess that's it," Patrice surmised before presenting her palm for Terry to reciprocate a hi-five.

Terry returned the gesture and shrugged. "We can go again. Maybe try something else?"

"You know your mama is gonna come lookin' for us soon, right? She's probably on her way back to check on her Peanut right now," Patrice teased as she watched Terry scoot closer to her side and fondle both breasts to his heart's content.

"You're probably right," Terry murmured with his attention elsewhere.

"I'm always right. Don't forget it." Patrice's challenge earned a tickle attack on her rib cage before Terry used his strength to pull her body on top of his. Amorous feelings bubbled under the surface as quick kisses deepened into something sure to threaten their pact to end on a high note.

Pulling away, Terry brushed a braid behind Patrice's shoulder and grinned. "I love you, P. Mean it."

"I love you, too. Mean it."

Realization slowly set in while they allowed intense gazes to communicate words too heavy and unfamiliar to share so soon. They'd done it. After years of friendship and the courage to push the boundaries of what they could be, they'd reached the point of no return. The possibilities of tomorrow felt endless, exciting, and overwhelming. They welcomed the challenge hand in hand.

A final kiss sent Patrice into the bathroom with her pile of clothing to follow the article she'd taken a picture of to the letter and send discreet yet excited confirmation texts to the two girls eagerly awaiting updates. Terry sat alone in a messy hotel room, smiling like he'd been gifted season tickets for life, contemplating whether a proposal without a ring was appropriate for a girl as great as Patrice. He ultimately decided against his rash decision and resolved to calculate how much a measly Lance Corporal's salary could afford before shooting his father a text. There'd be other opportunities. If Terry was sure of nothing else, he'd hang his hat on their union without a second thought.

By Sunday afternoon, the weekend was but a soul-stirring memory. The awkward nature of a first time under their belts created a newfound confidence that prompted perceptive parents to frantically try and fail to confirm the details of what they were sure was a relationship-altering experience. The itch to try again had attached itself to fated lovers left to their own devices in a cramped dorm room on North Carolina A&T's campus.

Round two of Terry's deep sea dive proved more successful than the first. Patrice was suspended on a cloud while students in the hallway enjoyed their waning hours of freedom.

"Mmmm. Right there, right there," she begged in a harsh whisper meant to conceal the inner workings of her room from the public. Terry pulled away from his work to look up for confirmation, prompting her to push his head back into action. "No, no, no, no. Don't stop. I'm close."

Close to what, Patrice didn't know, but she needed to see the tightening in her abdomen to the finish line. Tears pricked her eyes as Terry lapped between her legs like a man with something to prove. Her body began to shiver. Her toes curled to the point of cramping. Colors danced behind her eyelids. This was what Victoria was talking about. This was the gold on the other side of the rainbow.

Patrice gasped for air and moaned a throaty "Oh shit," not caring who could hear. She'd waited too long for her turn. Nothing could knock her off her wave.

Except for the locked doorknob wiggling and her nice but overbearing roommate attempting to enter. Patrice whined and sat up to shoo Eni away. "Hey, girl, can you give me a few more minutes?"

"Not really," Eni responded, her voice muffled on the other side of the door. "I forgot my laptop charger, and I kind of need it to work in the common area."

"You can't wait a couple more minutes?"

Eni sighed. "I've waited fifteen. If I keep waiting, I'm gonna lose my spot on the good couch by the window. You know I love to look at the trees while I study. It's calming."

Terry quietly kissed back down Patrice's thighs before resting his chin on her knee to smile. "It's okay. Let her in. We can try another time."

"I wanna try today!" Patrice's whining and pouting earned a laugh from Terry as he helped her back into panties he'd planned to keep in his pocket.

"It'll be worth the wait," he assured once she was redressed and standing in front of him. He leaned down to kiss her nose before stepping back to adjust himself inside his jeans. "I'm a Marine now. I literally have to keep my word."

"I'm pretty sure this is not one of the situations they trained you in."

Their laughter prompted Eni to clear her throat and knock again. "No, seriously, Patrice. They're gonna take my seat and probably my laptop. Can I come in?"

Terry chuckled as Patrice groaned and trudged her way to the door. Both of them watched Eni's eyes grow wide once she saw her roommate's present distraction gathering his wallet and keys off Patrice's desk.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed when Terry turned his back, receiving an understanding shrug from Patrice.

"Eni, this is my boyfriend, Terrence. TJ, this is Eni."

Terry presented his fist for Eni to bump. "Nice to meet you. Hopefully, I'm not intruding."

"Intruding? What? No," Eni scoffed as if she hadn't spent the previous fifteen minutes locked out of her room. "It's me! I'm the intruder! You are just, um, you are…wow! Is it hot in here?"

Patrice rolled her eyes at Terry's growing smile and began pushing him out of the room. "Terrence is leaving now, so it should cool down. Say goodbye, Terry."

His farewell became lost in the rumble of voices filtering out of other rooms as she ushered him out of the building, away from prying eyes, and to his truck. Terry's hands found a home on Patrice's waist once they'd reached a safe distance from the residence hall He pulled her close to mumble against her neck.

"I'm home for eight more days and then Quanitco for school. Let's figure something out. I'll take you on a real date and everything."

He'd take her on the date. By Saturday night, Terry had planned that Patrice would have her last name changed by her college graduation. He only needed a loan from his parents and an opportunity to pop the question.

Patrice let his promise flow in one ear and out of the other as she cradled him closer and hummed her agreement. "I'll work on it."

"Don't work on it, Piggy. Make it happen." A cheeky smack on her backside dissolved Patrice into a giggling mess, and she playfully slapped his broad chest. When they settled their loud laughter, Terry pressed his forehead against Patrice's and smiled. "I'll call you when I'm home."

"And I'll answer," she confirmed. "See you later to finish what we started?"

"Plus a couple things we didn't."

"I'm holding you to that," Patice giggled.

Kisses filled with the promise of next time kept naive eighteen-year-olds giddy as they parted ways, content with today and hopeful for tomorrow like soothsayers looking to a future only they could see. The horizon was stunning. Golden rays of sunlight illuminated everything the light touched. Beautiful treasure chests gleamed to invite them to claim the riches inside. Songs from angels on high welcomed them to a higher plane of existence.

But off in the distance, beyond where untrained eyes could see, unpredictable dark clouds ambling like a menacing force threatened to rain on a pretty picnic set for two.

------

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#aaron pierre #terryxpatrice #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond

156 notes · View notes

splishfish · 7 months ago

Note

Tomura fucking reader while playing video games? 👅

Tomura Shigaraki x AFAB Reader

Tags: Creampie, Cunnilingus, Humping, Slow sex turned into Rough sex, slight choking, slight edging, Praise, Pre-Established Relationship, Fondling

WC: 2.0K

“You’re doing so good…fuck…”

Authors note at the bottom!

Sitting in his gaming chair with his legs crossed and his hands idly scratching his neck, the monitor behind him displayed a popular battle royale. Fortnite. Unfortunately he wasn’t playing, having been quickly knocked and eliminated, his reboot card having expired seconds before you managed to collect it.

He scowled as he watched the tv only a few feet away from him, your character sprinting through the grassy fields of the forest, looting golden chests and replacing your weapons whenever you found a better one.

Quickly getting bored of the screen, his eyes trailed towards you. You laid on your stomach kicking your legs in the air as you played. Xbox controller in your hand clicked silently, your face scrunched up in concentration as you started a fight. His eyes began to explore your body, lingering on your pretty ass which was hidden under your pants.

He hummed to himself before hopping off his chair, climbing into bed with you and straddling your thighs. Your voice was soft and low as you spoke, clearly still invested in the game ahead of you.

“What’re you doin’?” He didn’t respond, his hands coming down to fondle your ass. The clothed flesh pooled out of his fingers with each grope, the sight causing his eyes to narrow with lust. He could hear your small protests, something about losing the game, but he didn’t care. Instead, his hand trailed up your body, sliding under your shirt to gently tug your pants down to your thighs. His free hand lifted your waist, ignoring your protests once again.

“Hey. Stop it. I’m trying to win for us.”

Your voice was faint in his mind, the sight of your panty covered ass was incredibly arousing. He could feel his cock beginning to warm up, heat rushing down as he grinned and began to fondle your ass again. Your skin was warm against his hands, and he couldn't resist pulling the thin fabric of your underwear aside, exposing your pretty cunt to the cold air. He watched you shudder, attempting to shield yourself from the cold by pressing your thighs together.

He pursed his chapped lips in disapprovement, his hands spreading your thighs as much as he could with your pants still in the way. Sliding his hand between the small gap he had created, he ran his fingers up and down your slit, tapping your clit occasionally with his index finger.

Your breath hitched as his hand began to play with your folds, your hands instinctively gripping the controller tighter. A small flush formed on your cheeks, but you desperately attempted to ignore the building pressure. You were top 50, you could win this!

Unaware of your thoughts, Tomura continued to rub his fingers between your lips, watching with amusement as you began to lubricate yourself, a slick noise beginning to echo through the room. Your thighs continued to squeeze his hand, your pants still hugging your thighs. Huffing with frustration, he decayed your pants, spreading your legs with his hands and settling himself between them. Lowering himself down, he used two of his fingers to spread your folds before letting a glob of spit fall onto your hole.

His fingers prodded your hole gently, before he lowered himself onto your pussy, a lewd slurping sound following after. His tongue lapped at your fluids, the warm fleshy walls twitching under his eager muscle. He heard your breathing become labored, moans slowly spilling from your mouth as your hips wiggled in pleasure. He grinned, his lips wrapping around your clit and gently rubbing it with his tongue, the bud throbbing with each stroke.

Your eyes could barely focus on the screen by now, your hands shaking around the controller as you struggled to maintain your composure. You painted softly, your character idly crouching behind a building as you took a few minutes to indulge in the pleasure. You could feel the familiar coil in your stomach beginning to form, your body beginning to twitch in anticipation.

He hummed around your pretty pussy, the acidic flavor of your arousal causing his chapped and split lips to sting, but he didn’t mind. His own hips began to desperately hump against the mattress, his cock straining and aching in his sweats. He could feel his cock leaking impatiently, his boxers already forming a damp spot where his cock pulsed.

When he finally couldn’t handle the building pressure of his groin, he pulled away from your cunt, watching your hole flutter against nothing before pulsing softly.

You sighed in relief and disappointment, your body trembling slightly as you forced your eyes to open again, attempting to focus on the screen as your orgasm slowly began to ebb away. Your grip on the controller came back, and your eyes glanced up at the amount of players remaining.

13 players. That meant 5 duos remaining, with only you remaining without a teammate.

Shuffling out of his clothes, he grunted in relief as the unbearable heat in his pants dissipated, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He hissed slightly as his rough and calloused hand began to slowly stroke himself, using the seemingly never ending stream of precum to lubricate his penis.

Once he was wet enough, he crawled on top of you, his arms caging you in as he buried his face in your hair. He took a deep breath, releasing a shuddering sigh as he rubbed his cock up and down your folds, bumping your clit with his cock and just barely teasing your entrance.

Your body tensed up as he began to hump you, a pleading whine escaping you as you complained.

“Don't do this Tomu, can you wait? Please? Holy shit I'm in the top 7!”

Your excitement was quickly shoved away in favor of a sudden feeling of fullness, a loud choked out moan escaping your lips as Tomura shoved his length deep inside your velvety walls. The controller nearly fell out of your hands as he began to shallowly thrust into you, your head falling forwards as a whimper left your lips. Using one of his hands to shoverd your hair to the other side of your shoulder, he left sloppy wet kisses along your neck, grunting as he spoke.

“Keep playing…if you don’t win I won't let you cum…”

His words sent a shiver of fear down your spine, your hands immediately readjusting their grip on the controller. You could feel his heavy balls brushing against your clit, occasionally rubbing against your puffy folds as he barely moved his hips against you.

This is fine. You could deal with this, surely. You just needed to take down 6 more people! You can do this! With a newfound vigor, you refocused your eyes on the game, your breathing shallow and shaky.

He grinned as he watched the character on the screen begin to move again, his hips slowly beginning to thrust against yours. He grunted in your ear, your ass jiggling with each snap of your hips, his public hair growing damp with your slick. His eyes lazily trailed up to watch you play, your shots barely landing against any of your opponents. He giggled softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe as he murmured.

“You’re doing so good…fuck…”

You couldn’t tell if he was complimenting your game or your cunt, but at this point you couldn't be bothered to figure it out. You could barely play the game with the way his length bullied your insides, every thrust shaping your walls to his shape. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the mewls and moans that left your lips.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as your shield broke, your damage tanking as a rain of bullets hit your character. A string of curses that could be interpreted as a lengthy moan escaped your throat, your body beginning to bounce as Tomura’s pace began to speed up. His ragged breathing was brushing by your ear, grunting small praises as he felt your walls fluttering around his aching cock.

He looked down to where you both connected, a creamy ring of your fluids coating his cock. He moaned at the sight, his patience finally snapping as he began to brutally fuck his cock into your insides. The slapping of skin echoed in the room, drowning out the sounds of the controller clicking and the tv speakers. The tip of his cock began to throb, his entire body shaking as the warmth of your heat clouded his thinking. Between rough thrusts and moans, he growled into your ear.

“You better win before I cum, or else I’m leaving you here stuffed and unsatisfied…and don't even think about throwing the game either…”

His threats caused you to clench around him, the fear of not being able to orgasm made your body ache, instinctively trying to suck him deeper inside. You could hear his cruel giggles echoing in your mind, your eyes watering slightly. The game was nearly over, the storm shortening the arena until all remaining players were left exposed in the open area. You took advantage of what you could, your mind hazy as the line between the need to win and the urge to cum blurred.

You felt your body move on autopilot, your fingers moving over the triggers of the controller without thought, your character rushing into battle, your health depleting with each bullet that dug into your hitbox. Despite all this, the coil in your stomach seemed to grow tighter and tighter, your clit desperately throbbing with need as it bumped against the mattress in tune with Tomura’s thrusts.

You barely registered the glowing flash of the screen or the clattering noise the controller made as it fell to the floor. The slow motion imagery of your character killing its last opponent being the last thing you see before Tomura yanked your head to the side and smashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your eyes rolled back as he grasped your throat, using your body as a handle to fuck himself deeper into you, your hands dropping the controller.

You could barely think, all thoughts clouded by the unbearable urge to cum. Every vein, every curve and movement of his cock against your walls made you cry out in pleasure. He was no different, growling and huffing down your throat as his hips lost their rhythm, lost in the pleasure of your gushing heat.

You could feel his weight shifting against your back, and suddenly his cock was hitting the side of your insides. The new and sudden feeling had your toes curling, a guttural scream of delight escaping your throat as he just barely bumped against your g-spot, your eyes rolling back as a flash of colors invaded your vision.

Tomura swore loudly in your ear as he felt your heat finally convulse around him, your hips jerking into the mattress as you tried to simultaneously pull away and take him deeper. Your sweet moans, your intoxicating scent, your hot fucking pussy, it was all too much for him. He bit down on your neck as he reached his own orgasm, his seed filling your insides and coating your walls.

Almost immediately after he had finished, he pulled out, ropes of cum shooting on your ass as he whined from overstimulation, the intense orgasm still rushing through him. As you both caught your breaths, he pressed his forehead against your shoulder, murmuring softly as he caressed your side.

“Fuck…I love you…that was great…” You responded with a soft whine, just barely tilting your head to press a kiss to his temple. It took you a moment to catch your breath, and when you did you finally responded

“Love you too Tomu…” The sound of your combined breathing was peaceful, the afterglow of your lovemaking made your body slump over in relief, a pleasure filled hum escaping your lips. After a few moments you curiously asked.

“...Were you serious when you said you wouldn’t let me cum if I didn't win?”

He grunted in acknowledgement of your question, taking a moment to think.

“No…I just didn’t want to lose my victory royale streak.”

“Are you serious?”

This is my second request! As you can see...I went a little overboard LOL! I'll be honest, as soon as I got this request, it hit me that I never wrote a staple oneshot of the TomuraFucker community...fucking while playing games...I'm a little disappointed in myself for making this AFAB instead of GN! but I hope its okay! I plan on writing a GN!Reader one soon of this same prompt, so stay tuned! ALSO IDK IF U CAN TELL BUT THIS IS MY LONGEST ONESHOT!! 2,037 WORDS! WOW! TY FOR REQUESTING!! I love writing yall's requests! Should I do post for rules / info on requests?

Did you enjoy this? Check out my Masterlist for more!

#bnha #bnha shigaraki #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha tomura #mha tomura #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #smut #tenko shimura #oneshot #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reqs open #request #afab reader

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harringtons-cupid · 7 days ago

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could i request a jelous!steve where reader and him work together at Family Video, and one day while steve was organizing the tapes a guy comes in and the reader helps him, he flirts to her while steve watches from afar but the reader just ignores him and keeps doing her job. When the guy has finished he puts a paper with his number on her back pocket and walks out, the reader doesn't notice....but steve does see the paper on her pocket and gets jelous and mad at the same time because he tought she saved it, ignores her and wathever, you are free to follow with it how you want!💞

A/N: Thank you so much for the suggestion. I loved this idea!! A little Steve Harrington Fluff is what we all need. But I decided to change this a little bit, I wanted to add a bit of Eddie getting someone to flirt with you! But it didn't work. Stevie all the way.

| Dividers: @uzmacchiato | Masterlist |

Steve was the one who got you the job when Robin decided to cut down her hours; the store was struggling with popularity, so he suggested that you'd be perfect for increasing sales. Your previous experience as a sales consultant allowed you to judge which films to release each week, and then, eventually, each month, an influx of new customers queued at the doors of the Family Video.

That was almost a year ago; Steve had chosen not to attend college away from Hawkins, and you joined him. Enjoying the relationship that was slowly blossoming between you and Steve. Community college was perfect, as you both trained up to managerial roles.

Tonight, the day had been slow-moving; you and Steve were chilling over the counter. Playing one of the many games you always played when business was slow. The bell tingled as the door opened and shut; you didn't bother to look up.

It was usually a solo guy looking for another 'cool' movie; a few times, you had served the one and only Eddie Munson. It assumed that you and Steve were secretly jealous of every interaction. you had with another male.

The shop began to get busier by the second, so Steve decided to actually do some work. He began to create the new releases on the front banner by the till, whilst you updated the stock list and revenues.

As you were distracted by the mathematics in your head, you didn't notice that someone was standing at the till until a soft cough startled you.

'I'm so sorry. How can I help you?' you asked politely whilst throwing Steve a face.

The guy placed his selection loudly on the desk; it was one of their regulars. The faint smell of weed and incense filled your nostrils. You pushed the videos forward and began scanning them.

Usually, this particular person didn't discuss much with you. The noises from you documenting the rentals were enough for him to deal with. But today, he started a conversation with you. Unfortunately, it was on someone else's behalf.

"So, you know Eddie. right?'' he asked sheepishly.

You sighed, sliding the videos back towards his side of the till. You turn your attention towards the computer before beginning to electronically input all the information in front of you.

''Munson, yeah, I've spoken to him once." You looked at the guy briefly, wanting to change the subject.

He was still standing against the register as you flickered your attention from your work towards the ever-growing queue appearing behind him.

"I'm not interested, but thanks." You smiled at him, trying to hint heavily that other people needed serving.

The people behind him were getting annoyed; Steve was now by your side and offering to serve anyone waiting. This guy was rifling in his pockets before dropping a piece of paper onto the table and shrugging.

On the paper, there were two numbers. One of them was obviously for Eddie Munson, and the other was for the guy who had unsuccessfully tried to get your attention.

You didn't notice Steve's eyes were focused on the paper you dropped in the bin behind you as you waved a group of people forward.

After you both managed to handle the crowd and the shop was once again quieter, he turned to you.

"Are you going to call him? He was nervous when he spoke, pulling a card out of his spread.

Trying not to seem rude, but you struggled to hold in your laughter at his question. Had he been looking in on a different conversation?

''Umm, no, Stevie," you teased, poking his chest as you laughed at him.

His eyebrows knotted together in confusion, he spread his chosen cards down in front of you before leaning closer.

''Why not? I mean, he seemed pretty interested in you," he said once more with a hint of nervousness.

''I sort of like someone else." You bit your lip as you placed your own card spread on the table.

Naturally, he had beaten you at the game once again. He didn't hold his happiness, taking both spreads into his hands and throwing them jokingly against the table before closing the distance between you both.

It was dark now, the shop had been quiet for over an hour, and you were starting to get the late-night giggles. Family Stores stayed open until 11pm, swallowing your obvious yawn.

''So, who do you like?" His brown eyes pierced into yours; his body was very close to yours. "So, who do you like?" His brown eyes pierced into yours; his body was very close to yours.

Gulping hard as you felt the heat radiating off his body, he was staring at you, demanding an answer.

How could you begin to tell him that you had been dismissing any person who hit on you because of him?

Ever since you met him, there was a crush, an attraction to him that was clouding your judgement on most things, but you couldn't leave him alone. Robin constantly teased the shit out of you.

So for the first time, you exhaled heavily. Closing your eyes before speaking, you couldn't face him if he rejected you there and then.

''You, it's you, Steve," you sighed; it felt good to say it out loud.

Silence followed your confession, and anxiety filled up inside you. You took a step back to avoid any more rejection, but he reached for your hand and pulled you back towards him.

His hands cupped your cheeks before kissing you. He was soft and gentle, having to slow himself down. You panted against his lips as he turned you around and pushed you against the counter, feeling breathless when the familiar sound of the bell broke your kiss.

Sheepishly, you were pulled apart as someone entered the shop. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, turning to look at Steve. Holding in your laughter as he winked at you, adjusting his outfit. He disappeared into the shop to avoid any more embarrassment.

The person appeared at the front of the desk as you were sorting out your hair; they seemed to be bemused at the pair of you. Nothing but smug smiles were exchanged as they took their chosen videos and left the store.

''Oh my god, do you think they saw us?" You gasped, turning to face him.

He spun round within seconds.

"''Babe, of course they saw us," he smirked, with a familiar smugness tugging at his lips.

Without a pause, he began to speak again.

"You got rid of that number, didn't you?'' he licked his lips as he studied you.

Humouring him, you debated the question for a few seconds before telling him the obvious answer that you had already thrown it away. You were not interested in anyone but him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #tommy hagan x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson #eddie

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ikinremu · 9 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 3 | RECORDING X NEIL LEWIS

Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader

Tags: Recording, Oral (M receiving), Spanking, P in V, Praise, Degrading

Initially, you'd been a little taken aback when Neil had proposed the idea of trying something new - understandably cautious of what would follow, however that worry didn't last long. It wasn't at all a surprising suggestion, considering your boyfriend ran a damn video store - now he seemed to want one for himself.

Not that you were against it in the slightest, although it took a little convincing - and you found Neil to be very persuasive when he needed to be.

"Is it on?" You chirped, watching intently as your boyfriend fiddled with the video camera. Conveniently enough, he happened to have had one simply 'lying around.'

The device made a little beeping sound, followed by a tiny red flash, and Neil nodded, "Mhm. Ready."

Without a second thought, he angled the lens toward you, your skin flushing with warmth at the sudden spotlight. His shirt was already discarded, and promptly so, and all that remained to your body was underwear one of his battered t-shirts.

"Strip." Neil breathed, "Let me see you, baby."

You inhaled sharply, seizing the top by its loose hem, lifting it slowly over your head and discarding it on the hardwood floor.

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so goddamn lucky." He mumbled under his breath as your bra followed suit, baring your breasts completely to both the camera and his greedy gaze.

He paused for a short moment, drinking in the sight of you clad in nothing but your sodden panties, "Get on your knees."

Without even a trace of hesitation, you complied, eager to taste him on your tongue as you lowered yourself to your knees before him, immediately flinging your hands to the buckle of his belt.

Neil chuckled, angling the video camera downward to your hands as your fingers fumbled over the jean's zipper, "So eager."

You nodded simply, unable to deny the fact as you tugged the material down, his boxers heightened by the head of his erect cock - impossibly hard and deprived of your touch.

A low, hoarse groan of relief left his mouth as he reached down with his vacant hand, freeing his length from the confines of his boxers as it levelled immediately with your awaiting face.

"C'mon, show the camera what a good cocksucker you are, baby." Neil encouraged, cocking a brow as he peered down at you expectantly, blatantly anticipating the feeling of your mouth around him.

His words sent arousal pooling further through your panties as you wrapped a single, soft hand round his shaft, guiding the head of him into your mouth. The moment the warmth of your mouth surrounded his length, he let out a low groan, cursing under his breath.

"That's it, sweetheart." He breathed, removing one hand from the body of the camera and sliding over the back of your head.

He peered down the frame, a satisfied smirk spreading over his lips as he observed the way your mouth bobbed up and down on him, driving him utterly insane as your tongue slickened his length.

"Can't wait for you to see how good you look with that pretty little mouth sucking my cock, baby." Neil groaned, chest heaving as you drew him deeper within your throat.

You moaned gently around him, the warmth of it stroking his length along with your hand as he fucked your mouth slowly, tongue drifting up and down at the very same pace.

"Take all of me in your mouth, that's it. Good girl."

Your stomach fluttered once more, arousal brewing between your tightly clenched thighs - attempting to create some much needed friction as your tongue traced the slit of his tip.

Tears brimmed across your waterline as you complied, driving him deeper down your throat with a momentary splutter.

"Look at that." Neil uttered, head falling back for a short few seconds, "Sucking my cock on camera like a whore, isn't that right?"

You mumbled inaudible around him, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat slowly. You rubbed your thighs together even closer as his hand began to guide your head on his length, gaze flickering suddenly down to the way your legs pressed firmly against one and other.

"Oh, you poor thing." He cooed, letting out a somewhat low chuckle, "Nobody's helping you, huh?"

Your eyes fluttered shut as you ran your lips over his shaft, gazing up at him through teary eyes with a slight shake your head.

"Go on, play with yourself." Neil encouraged, camera shaking ever so slightly in his grasp as he battled to maintain composure, "Fuck, that's it."

A quiet whimper fled your lips, only fuelled by his words as you snaked your free hand between your legs, parting your clenched thighs in order to slip your fingertips against the sodden fabric of your underwear.

Neil groaned once more, pointing the lens in the precise direction of your fingers as they began to trace supple circles through the soaked material, making your lips quiver gently around him.

"That's it, baby, touch that pretty cunt while I fuck your face." He practically grunted, hips tremmoring ever so slightly as you took him, eyes glued to the sight of you taunting your clit with your fingers.

His palm pressed against your scalp, grasp winding through your hair as he bobbed your mouth up and down a few further moments before pausing.

Neil pulled his hips back, sliding his twitching cock from the warmth of your mouth, slick with your saliva.

"Stand up, sweetheart."

Slowly, you dragged the pad of your thumb over your lips before you stood once more, removing your hand from the warmth between your thighs.

He handed you the recorder, planting a brief peck to your forehead, "Set it up."

"Okay." You nodded simply, peering at the device in your hands as you strolled over to the bed frame.

As you experimented with the placement, Neil rid his body of any remaining garments, baring himself entirely as his voice sounded out from a distance back, "And take those off."

You rested the camera on the wooden frame, angling it from the side of the bed, discarding your only remaining piece of clothing.

Neil crept up behind you, seizing your hips firmly as his lips latched onto your neck hungrily. His warm, somewhat callous palms kneaded the skin, sucking hard enough at your neck to leave a mark.

He guided you atop the mattress, following suit.

"Hands and knees, baby, arch that back for me." He let out a heavy breath, kneeling behind you as you positioned yourself on your hands and knees on the large mattress, presenting your naked frame to his merciless gaze.

His eyes flickered toward the camera lens, pulling you back a mere inch or so, "Perfect." He murmured, pressing a sweet peck to your arched back, trailing his mouth down the curve of your spine.

"I need to feel you, Neil, I don't wanna wait anymore." You huffed, head twisting back to face him as he surrounded his cock with his hand

He chuckled, "Beg."

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, stomach fluttering as you glanced back at his expectant expression; a single raised brow, enhanced by an undoubtedly cocky smirk.

"C'mon baby, show that camera you're pretty begging." He awaited, bringing down a warning smack to your bare, arched behind, a breathy moan seeping from your open mouth as you jolted forward.

You exhaled deeply, "Please, Neil."

He planted another - slightly harsher - spank to your ass, "Please, what? You gotta tell me, sweetheart."

"Please, fuck me." You granted him the plea, back arching out to him further, tempting his already impossibly hard cock.

A low, satisfied chuckle escaped Neil's lips as he lined his tip up with your entrance before sliding inside with one swift motion, "Since you asked so nicely."

You bit down harshly into your lip, a strained moan escaping your throat as you felt him enter you, a deeper sound leaving his own mouth.

"Fuck." He cursed through gritted teeth, gripping your hips tightly as he pulled his pelvis back slowly; torturously.

"Oh, shit.." You returned, face contorting in overwhelming pleasure as Neil's cock disappeared inside your cunt once more, developing the pace of his thrusts.

His hips bucked at a swift rate against your own, sending your back into an even deeper arch as your fingers curled into the bedsheets. Capturing every passing moment without a blink, the camera wobbled ever so slightly atop the wood.

Neil strayed one hand, seizing the recorder and positioning it atop the frame right before you, allowing the lens to capture your face and backward, documenting the sight of him pounding hungrily into your cunt from behind.

The very same hand wrapped suddenly around your neck, purposefully angling your head in order for the camera to capture the way your features contorted with pleasure. He forced the pad of his thumb between your soft lips as his hips bucked rapidly against your own, sliding the digit slowly along your tongue.

"Smile for the camera, baby." He whispered, the heat of his breath caressing your upper-neck, amusing himself, "Don't be shy, let's see just how good you feel with my cock stuffed in your pussy."

His teasing, somewhat hoarse, words drew a particularly loud sound from deep within your throat, lips surrounding the knuckle of his thumb as it pressed firmly against your tongue.

“You like that, huh sweetheart?” Neil taunted, sliding his hand downward from its grasp upon your neck, trailing gradually in the direction of your chest.

Once more, your teeth punctured into your bottom lip, feeling the warmth of his hand enrapture your chest.

“Fuck, Neil..” You babbled, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment as you felt his tip smack against your g-spot in perfect rhythm. His grip on your hips tightened, possessive over the way you felt beneath him, his other hand beginning to toy with the peak of your nipples.

He groaned, snapping his hips against yours in quick succession, never once letting up his pace, “Thats’s right, fuck.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back in your head for a moment, skin slapping against his as his fingers rolled your stiff nipple between them.

A far more gentle whimper left your lips as you revelled in the sensations of him striking deep inside you as you quivered desperately around him.

With a prideful smirk, Neil exhaled, hips bucking at a torturous pace, “Gonna watch this back, huh? Watch yourself get fucked?”

“Fuck, yes.” You murmured, words coming out disjointed as your fingers twisted through sheets, back arched invitingly as his cock filled you, an all too familiar feeling approaching in the pit of your stomach.

Neil’s length twitched between your drenched, clenching, walls, sliding quickly in and out of your cunt, slick with your arousal.

“Shit, baby..” He panted, a single strand of hair flopping over his forehead as he tweaked your nipple between the centres of his fingers, "You're gonna make me come, fuck.."

Your cunt squeezed at his cock as he hit deeper, a much anticipated release brewing in your stomach.

His hips jolted eagerly against yours, growing sloppier by the moment.

"Neil, fuck, I'm so close.." You breathed, head falling back for a moment as his length taunted your sweet-spot, fingers pinching at your peaked nipple.

"That's right, sweetheart, let go." He groaned, "Cum on my cock, make a fuckin' mess."

Your eyelids squeezed together, painting a picture of darkness as your orgasm struck suddenly. A loud, broken moan escaped you as you released, twitching around his thrusting cock, body trembling in satisfaction.

Neil cursed beneath his breath once more, sliding out of you with a quiet grunt, his release painting your lower-back, shooting onto your skin as his hips bucked a little.

"What would people think, hm baby? Letting me make a mess of you like this on camera?" He chuckled, breath hitching as he came down from the high in similar time to yourself.

Gently, he climbed over you, hands cupping your - now heavily - flushed cheeks , pulling you into a tender, passionate kiss.

"My perfect girl."

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please note that in the process of kinktober works releasing, I’m also working through requests - if you’ve sent one in then thank you as always for your patience!!

#smut #smutty #drabbles #oneshot #kinktober #kinktober list #neil lewis #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x you #neil lewis x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #cillian murphy

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hangezoehq · 2 months ago

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SEE THE FULL VIDEO BELOW

/ / /

youtube

(WARNINGS: heavy plot spoilers for alien stage, canon typical violence/death though it's not particularly gory, light flashing but no strobing)

slides this across the table.

i'll leave the description of the video below to explain the details but anyone who watches it (even if they're uninterested in alien stage) will be deeply appreciated because this piece specifically means the world to me.

honestly this is one of the most personally meaningful works i've created in a long time. this took me almost three months of nonstop work. i started it as a small character study when i got into alnst, but then i lost my cat - my best friend of 18 years earlier this year. i threw myself into working on this and eventually found it ran out of my control and morphed into a musing on the nature of grief; letting go of someone you can't save, or something that you wanted desperately but was never meant to be in this universe. i hope that comes across and speaks to someone out there.

on a more lighthearted funny note - at one point it was briefly consumed by a glitch so bizarre that capcut had to push a new patch specifically to fix my problem. i couldn't see the screen because it was being distorted by what i called "the dimension", a corrupted pixel vortex you could see nothing behind. i just edited blind for a few weeks because cmon - you think that'll stop me? i used wlmm for almost a decade. i've had worse. so that will be the legacy of this video forever behind the scenes, the free bugtester.

enjoy

-alex :]

p.s: go check out alien stage please i love it

#alex's art #alex's edits #alien stage #alnst #alnst edit #alnst amv #alien stage edit #alien stage amv #character study #amvedit #fanvideos #fanvid #Youtube

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

Text

"A tour of my room :)"

"Is it on? The red light is flashing so..... Hi! It's so nice to meet you whoever you are... My name is Y/n and..... This is my room! Red gave me permission to record this video after they told me what a camera is. My head still hurts a little from all the crying I had to do to convince them to let me keep this- but I'm okay! What should I show you first?....hm...."

You take a quick look of your surroundings - the hollow ping of metal hitting the poles of your bed catching your ear, steering your gaze towards your weighted wrists.

"My bracelets! Red gave them to me my first night home. The leash is to make sure I don't wander off. I used to do that a lot actually. It's long enough I can comfortably walk around the kitchen, the bathroom, and Red's room. Those are pretty much all the places I need to go. If I pull my bed away from the wall, I can almost touch the front-"

Knock- knock- knock-

Only three... Not them....

.....

"Moving on! As you can see under me, this is my bed. I don't use it much since Red likes when I sleep with them. If you look really close riiight there - you can see Red carved our names into the headboard. They've carved our named into a lot of things we own. I think it's their favorite hobby."

You point upwards at your caretaker's beautiful craftsmanship. Heavy pounds channels through the walls - the frame of your bed imitating the knocks at the front door as it taps your bedroom wall in an that dreaded sound-

Knock, knock, knock-

"Over here is my dresser, where I keep most of my things."

Sliding off the edge of the bed, you recenter your new camera towards your dresser. You knew Red cleaned while you were asleep so there wasn't much on top of the furniture besides a stuffed fox they gifted you your first night home, and a spool of wool rendered useless due to sharp tears in the fabric. There were some picture frames as well, but those were more for Red than anything. The less you had to see your face the better

"I really wanted to try knitting like Red does, but my claws always tear the wool. Next to that is Mr. Rabbit. Red said they got him when they were little and it helped them feel less scared - so they gave it to me to make me free better. I don't want to hurt him so he sleeps here. Above my dresser is the list of rules Red has for me. It's really short - because they said I'm a good person. Red is still teaching me how to read, but i still remember what they told me-"

You pick up the camera, angling it up at the tapestry as you speak

"No eating on the couch-"

"Clean your teeth after every meal."

"Ignore any voices that are not Red's."

"The only time you're allowed to enter the basement is if your teeth start to feel itchy."

"And lastly.... Do not open the front door unless you hear the special knock we created together."

The last one is easy to follow.

"Help! Please, somebody- help! My boyfriend is hurt, I can't stop the bleeding. We were attacked some maniac in this... fucked up mask. Please - open the fucking door!"

You walk to the opposite side of the room, facing away from the window.

"Red.... Red doesn't let me do a lot of things. They were so mad at me when they found me cleaning the storage closet, but their mood changed so fast when they saw I found this... They said it's a music player. I like when they play music from their phone. They said when I'm too scared to watch t.v in the living room to drown out the noises I can just play one of these these...re....reco...."

Knock.

"Go away!"

Go away, go away- Why can't they just leave you alone. Why can't they understand it's better this way? Whatever Red will do.... It's better than..... Red. Where's Red? Why aren't they home yet? You're scared. Scared of what you'll do. Where is Red? Red - Red, please come home. I'm so hungry.

Dinner... Dinner is right outside, but you're a good person - just like they said. You'll wait for Red. They'll probably be home at any second - cries that loud could be heard for miles in a place like this. You just have to wait.

"I.....I guess I just put the record in here, then. Red is gonna be so proud of me for doing this by myself. Thank you for everything you do for me, Red..... I hope you all liked my tour!"

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x willing reader #tw yandere #monster reader #yandere scenarios

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batwritings · 1 year ago

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Simon being absolutely pussydrunk while fuckig into you he's muttering words too himself about how good you feel and how he doesn't want to cum yet because you feel too good but ends up cum inside you https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph63883f0240acd&pkey=

Video for reference cause I feel like Simon would fuck me like this especially the last position.....Im so sorry if this was too much

First things first, no apologies needed! I actually really appreciate the reference!! /gen But also, YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT HE WOULD! Can't tell me mans wouldn't fuck you like it's his last day, especially if he hasn't seen you in a bit. Enjoy!~

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

It felt like eons since you had last had a chance to be with Ghost. Being a part of TF141 certainly kept him more busy than before. It wasn't that you weren't thankful that business was booming, but...you missed your Simon.

It was a little shocking to not only you but also the rest of the task force when the big Brit scooped you up into his arms the moment he could. Normally he was rather stoic, a small hello and only once you two were home safe would he jump your bones. It seemed you'd been away from each other too long this time.

Judging by his reaction to just seeing you, it was no surprise on how you ended up in your current situation. Calloused fingers were bruising your hips lightly with their hold as Simon pulled you down onto his cock over and over. His head of short brunette hair was lolled back in pleasure.

"Fuck you're so good love," he groans, sliding a hand up your torso to rub his rough thumb over your nipple between gropes of your breast. "Ugh, fuck I missed you so much." You can feel his cock twitch when you whine from his touch.

This was such a rare side of Simon that you honestly loved seeing. Unabashed, raw love for you and your body and he didn't give a damn who heard. You both knew how thin the walls of your tiny apartment in Manchester were, but all dignity was thrown out the window the minute he kicked the door in.

His other free hand took to rubbing over your clit, earning him another high pitched keen. "That's it love, let them all hear," your lieutenant growls, letting out a groan of his own when you clench around him. "So fuckin' good, oh fuck..."

You beg for him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the pleasure. This by no means had been your first orgasm, but each was better than the last. "Please Si.~ W-wanna come...!"

Ghost chuckles darkly, moaning as his pace picks up. "Whatever you want princess," he purrs. "Gonna make you feel as good as I do." His hands return to their original position, where you swore there would be indents.

It's as if the two of you were in sync, both of you arching up and back respectively. Your cries create a beautiful symphony in the room as you each ignore the thuds on the wall. Even when it was too much, he refused to leave your clit alone, elongating your pleasure as much as he could.

Finally, you each relax, you falling back against the mattress while Simon's body falls to your side. You're tugged against his chest, a hum and a kiss pressed against your forehead. You return it, pressing a peck against his pecs.

"I missed you so much sweetheart, I really did."

#bat writes #anon reqs #cod x reader #cod smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut

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crushedsweets · 3 months ago

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hey crushedsweets!!! i've been thinking about making my own vn in google slides like you did, do you have any tips/advice?? (like how you added different routes and how you put music in the bg)

hello hello!!!

okay so it's kind of hard to explain it all over text. if i get Enough requests i MIGHT do a tiktok video but as of right now, ill try it here. ALSO EVERYTHING IS PROBABLY ALREADY A TUTORIAL ON YOUTUBE BUT IM HELLA ANNOYING AND REFUSE TO WATCH TUTORIALS T_T I JUST STRUGGLE N FIGURE IT OUT

honestly this is such a shitty explanation so i might do the tiktok tutorial if i have free time next week (cuz im on spring break now LOL)...

also, if you guys want, i might make a copy of the slideshow and give yall full access to it so you can poke around to try and understand it cuz my "tutorial" is ASS

DIFFERENT ROUTES

okay so. i don't really do different routes, i just give 3 decisions that funnel into the same route so the game FEELS like a game...but its not rlly one.

i'll try to take it step by step:

make options. make sure you already have the following slides/routes created

make the blue textbox cover the entire beige box. if you don't, then when players click, it'll direct them to the NEXT slide, not the route you want

Click on the blue lines of the textbox and click CTRL+K. You should already have the route slide created, in which you just input the slide number. IF YOU WANT PLAYERS TO RETURN TO CERTAIN SLIDES W/O GIVING THEM THE OPTION SLIDE, HERES AN EXAMPLE..(?):

>the "stay in bed" option is on slide 14. >this options directs you to slide 16. >slide 16 is a joke option. because of this, i want the player to go BACK to slide 14 to make a serious decision. >to do this, i turned EVERY asset into a CTRL+K link that sends you back to slide 14. this includes the background, text box, beige text holder, the apple png >this way, no matter where the player clicks, it sends them back to slide 14 (so they can make a real decision) >this gives you full control of where the player goes, even if its going backwards

EXTRA TIPS:

after every choice-slide, i created this warning slide. this makes sure that even if the player doesnt click correctly(i.e clicks the background, uses spacebar), they'll know there was a mistake and it'll send them back

I ALSO PUT THIS RED SLIDE BETWEEN EVERY "ROUTE CHUNK". what i mean by that is..

>as you can see, there is the decision on slide 196. >the first decision on slide 196 sends you to slide 198. >so slide 198-204 is a "route chunk". >when players finish that route chunk, i link(CTRL+F) ALL ASSETS on slide 204 to slide 215 >i do this because slide 215 is the end of the "route chunks" and leads you to the direct story. slide 204 AND 213 both link to 215 >this allows readers to progress smoothly regardless of what decision they made, since all decisions are meaningless in my VN (sorry)

>HOWEVER, this means you have to try and make sure all decisions leave no tangible impact on the story - i try to make them impact the player, not the MC (i.e leaving canine teeth in the drawers so the PLAYER will feel uneasy, but the MC never mentions it again)

i use these red slides to separate the slide chunks for two reasons:

makes it easier for me to keep track of route chunks when editing

if there is a mistake, players know to go back one slide so they can fix it. this way, they wont be progressing through random, unclear routes

okay. that was the best i got for the routes.

NOW FOR MUSIC

honestly? i dont even remember what website i used, but...

FIRST, you need to download a youtube video with whatever music you want. i think this website should work

SECOND, you now have an MP3 youtube video. GO ONTO GOOGLE DRIVE, click NEW, click UPLOAD FILE, then upload the MP3 file

THIRD, go into your slideshow. click INSERT, click AUDIO. now you should have the audio on your slideshow.

FOURTH, now its all up to preference. you should have a little audio icon pop up. click AUDIO ICON, click FORMAT OPTIONS, click LOOP AUDIO.

YOUR AUDIO SHOULD PLAY THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE SLIDESHOW NOW!!! :3

extra:

i havent done it cuz i was getting busy and just wanted to finish it, but honestly, you could probably change the audio throughout your slideshow - upbeat music to scary music when the scenes change, etc. maybe even layer them? i dunno. thats for you to play around with, cuz I DUNNO cuz i didnt do it. but yahh

ok... thats all... im so ass at explaining but i might make that tiktok. but my laptop screen is cracked so im embarrassed recording pics of it HAHAHAHA

#asks #crped vn #omfg. this is so stupid im so bad at explaining #i hope this made evn an ounce of sense

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allaboutsturns · 1 year ago

Text

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ

nicolas sturniolo x masc!reader

content: fluff, confession, reciprocated feelings, the start of a relationship.

summary: you’ve known the triplets for about three years now and have always had the biggest crush on nick. the way his hair framed his face perfectly, the way his smile lit up every room, it was infatuating. he was perfect but you were afraid he didn’t feel the same way. that all changed on one random rainy night.

think of me

when you’re out, when you’re out there.

you were sat in your apartment, the cool air filling it nipped at your skin. before you met the triplets, you always preferred to have the heater on because of how easily you grew cold, but due to the triplets preferring cold air to constantly be blasting, you grew used to the cold and always had the ac on considering they were almost always over at your apartment or vice versa, you were at their house.

you scrolled through youtube, waiting for a video to peak your interest. the screen of your phone which lay on the armrest of the couch you sat on lit up.

you peeked at the screen with only your eyes, unsure if you wanted to acknowledge to whatever the notification was.

as soon as you saw the contact name, your face lit up with excitement. you quickly grabbed your phone, unlocking it with the face id and opening to text message you had received.

platonic soulmate <3:

hey bae!! out with matt and chris and can’t stop wishing you were here :( <3

your stomach fluttered as it filled with butterflies and your cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, “god the hold you have on me nicolas.” you whispered to yourself.

you:

wish i was with u too!! miss u so much :d

you typed, your fingers quickly sliding across the screen as you spelled out each word. you read over the text message probably five times to make sure it didn’t come across as too clingy, before finally pressing send.

you inhaled deeply, watching as a text bubble with three moving dots appeared, signaling that nick was texting back.

platonic soulmate <3:

we have to hangout soon bitch!!! i’m free tomorrow nightttt and like literally whenever you’re free cuz i’ll always make time for you boo 😘

your phone screen illuminated your face and you smiled brighter than you knew was even possible.

quickly, you began typing back.

you:

i’m free tomorrow night! def gotta hangout 😍

platonic soulmate <3:

perfecttt!! i’ll pick you up tomorrow night then <3

you double tapped the last message he sent and pressed the heart reaction before placing your phone back down and rocking back and forth out of excitement. you couldn’t wait to be reunited with him even though you only just saw him 2 days ago.

i think i’ll pace my apartment

a few times.

you nervously paced your apartment, your hands fidgeting with each other as you waited for nick to arrive.

nerves shot through your spine as you continuously checked your phone for the notification that signaled nick had arrived. you had a life360 circle with matt, nick, and chris. it was created mostly because you guys all wanted to stalk each other.

you stopped your pacing in front of the full body mirror that hung on the wall in your living room. you fluffed up your short hair and checked to make sure your outfit was good for probably the tenth time. this was a common occurrence. anytime you had plans with nick, you would constantly check and make sure you looked good. you were always so nervous because nick always looked good and you were desperate for him to be as infatuated with you as you were with him.

after about three minutes of you standing in front of the mirror you heard a ding come from your phone. you immediately lifted the screen to your face to see the life360 notification signaling that nick had just pulled up. you lifted a hand to your mouth and bit at the skin around your thumb nervously as you waited for him to text you, confirming that he had arrived.

finally, after what felt like a lifetime, a message from nick appeared at the top of your screen.

platonic soulmate <3:

i’m hereeee :D

you read the text quickly and ruffled your short hair once more before grabbing your keychain and walking out of the front door to your apartment, locking it behind you.

you walked down the stairs which led to ground level and scanned the parking lot for the oh-so-familiar car.

as soon as you saw it, your stomach swarmed with butterflies and your chest grew tight. you took a deep inhale in before walking towards the car, aiming for the passenger side door.

nick smiled that beautiful smile at you when he saw you approaching and gave you a simple wave. this action alone painted your cheeks a subtle red.

you grabbed the door handle and pulled, opening the door. you reached a foot into the car, your body following closely behind as you sat down into the seat.

“hey!!” nick said, still smiling as he pulled you into a tight hug, “feels like it’s been years since i last saw you,” he groaned as he jutted out his bottom lip, giving you a fake pout and doe eyes.

you laughed and sat back in your seat as he pulled away from the hug, “it’s only been two days you goof!” you said with smile, burying the fact that it did indeed feel like it had been years since you last saw him.

you put your seatbelt on and listened intently as nick began rambling about random shit that had happened over the last two days while he carefully pulled out of the parking lot.

i could follow you to the beginning,

just to relive the start.

you and nick always held good conversation. when you two were together, there was never a moment of awkward silence. the only silence that ever filled the space between the two of you was a comfortable one.

throughout the car ride, he randomly brought up various memories from when you guys initially met. it made your heart melt knowing he relived the memories the same way you did. it made your mind wander with restless thoughts, maybe… just maybe he felt the same way. maybe he cherished every moment you spent together the same way you did.

soon, rain started to make contact with the windshield of the car. you always loved the rain, it was comforting and you had found yourself always making the simplest, yet best memories in the rain.

as nick remained focused on the road in front of them, the rain started to pour harder. you couldn’t help but examine his side profile, not taking your eyes off of him. you hoped that he didn’t feel you staring, you prayed he didn’t. you knew it was probably weird, but you couldn’t help it. he was so beautiful.

“oh my god, bae!!” nick said as his eyes lit up with the remembrance of a memory. you quickly looked away from his face and to the road ahead as he glanced over at you for a moment, “hm?!” you hummed excitedly, more than eager to hear about the memory that just took over nicks mind.

nick smiled, a little laugh escaping his lips, “d’you remember that one time that we hung out and pulled into that one parking lot,” immediately you knew what he was going to say. you felt sparks ignite between the two of you but you were unsure if he felt them too.

“and it was pouring rain,” you began, cutting off the start of his sentence.

“and the car broke down,” he continued, cutting off your words right back. you guys did this often, finished each others sentences. it was like you guys were telepathically connected and neither of you minded being cut off by the other. in fact, it made the both of you giggle.

“and we danced in the rain waiting for matt to come get us after the tow truck took the car!?” nick said, his free leg bouncing with excitement. you smiled brightly at him as little snorts escaped your body, “yes of course i remember,” you said through the laughing fit that had just taken over.

nick began laughing just as hard as you did, pulling off of the main road and into a parking lot, the same parking lot you guys found yourselves in that night, the rain still pouring down. he strategically found the exact parking spot that you guys had parked in that night and put the car in park.

he pushed the ‘push to start’ button that activated and deactivated the car and opened his car door, eagerly slamming it shut behind him. you raised a brow as he ran over to your side of the car, opening the door and reaching a hand out to you, “may i have this dance, handsome?” he asked, still laughing as hard as he was three minutes ago.

you giggled and nodded your head quickly, “absolutely, nicolas!” you replied before taking his hand and ducking out of the car and into the pouring rain.

the two of you began to dance, your movements in sync as if you had both known exactly what the other was going to do.

your heart skipped a beat as you held firm eye contact with the boy you cared about so deeply.

this was it. this was the time. the perfect time. you were so nervous but you knew you had to say it. you knew if you let it continue to boil inside your chest that it would soon bubble over and you’d panic and say it all wrong.

and maybe then we’d remember,

to slow down,

at all of our favorite parts.

you could feel your heart rate pick up in your chest as you looked longingly into his beautiful blue eyes. your smile faded and your expression changed to one of admiration and pure love.

nicks eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read your changing expression, “what are you thinking?” he asked, removing his hand from your shoulder and moving the stray hair that had fallen into your face away in one gentle motion. you blinked up at him taking in a shaky breath.

“nick..” you said quietly, water dripping from your hair and pooling on your skin. he hummed a gentle response and looked into your eyes even harder, the air between the two of you growing thick. you could tell he got nervous too with how each breath became shaky and quick.

“nick, i’m..” you paused, the words getting caught in your throat. you had to say this perfectly because he deserved to hear it perfectly, “fuck.” you whispered to yourself, looking away and taking a step back from him, letting your hands fall to your sides. you kicked at the ground below you, watching as the water pooled around your feet.

nick placed his hand gently on your cheek, making you look back at him, giving him a small smile. you leaned into his touch subconsciously making him move his thumb back and forth against your cheek, “take your time, love,” he cooed, his eyes softening. you always loved when he called you little pet names like that. you felt your cheeks grow warm as they turned a deep red color.

“you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you and your brothers, but even more so, you,” you started, trying to keep your words on track, careful not to begin rambling, “and.. god. you are so perfect. your smile is infectious, always finding a way to make me smile just the same. your eyes are so gentle, so beautiful. every time i look into them i feel safe.. comfortable,” you continued, your heart racing. you tried reading nicks expression but you couldn’t, and that killed you, “your voice is so soothing and every time i hear it the world around me gets just a tad brighter,” you said, your voice growing shaky, “the way your hair falls perfectly into your face and the way you let me brush it out of the way each time tugs at my heart strings so hard.” you paused, giving him a moment to soak in your words.

“nick,” you started again, “you are so beautiful, handsome, pretty,” your stomach dropped when you saw the tears pooling at his waterline, but you continued, desperate to finally tell him how you felt.

you reached your hands up, resting them on his cheeks, “i am so in love with you. i always have been and i think i always will be,” you pushed the words out. you wished they came out louder, but the blockade in your throat only allowed them to come out as a whisper.

“all i want is you. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i want to be yours.” you said, your voice still quite. tears began to pool at your own waterline but you held eye contact with the boy in front of you, the boy you had come to love.

it was silent for a moment. the two of you were completely soaked but unable to move, your feet rooted into the ground below you.

nick reached a hand up to meet one of yours which rested on his cheek, placing it gently over your hand, leaning into your touch.

“all i want is you, too,” he whispered, shutting his eyes comfortably as he soaked in every moment of this interaction that he could, never wanting to forget it.

your eyes widened as you felt your stiff body finally relax. you bit your bottom lip, longing to kiss him.

there were moments in your friendship that your fingers had accidentally brushed his lips. you knew they were soft and delicate. there were also moments when he’d kiss your forehead or cheek to say goodbye or goodnight. in this moment, you knew you had wanted to kiss him for a long time. you knew you had wanted to be his for a long time.

“can i kiss you?” you asked gently, afraid that if you said it too desperately this whole moment would dissipate in front of you.

nick opened his eyes and looked back into yours, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “yes, please,” he paused, cringing at the fact that he said please. your heart sang a melody to the fact that he said please though. it meant he had felt the same as you for a long time too.

you closed your eyes and moved your body as closely as you could to his, hands still on his cheeks as you gently placed a kiss to his lips.

nick leaned into the kiss, shutting his eyes, signaling his full reciprocation. he moved one hand to your cheek and placed the other against the side of your neck.

the two of you stay like that for a moment, bathing in the moment. after about ten seconds, you pulled away opening your eyes slowly, him doing the same.

“i’m so in love with you, nicolas,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and shutting your eyes again.

“i’m equally in love with you,” he said, mirroring your every move.

all i wanted was you.

you smiled at the notification that lit up your phone, clicking on it almost immediately. you felt your cheeks grow warm with love.

soulmate <3:

hi love! sleepover at mine tonight? got a movie i think you’d like >:)

you hearted the message and typed two responses, clicking send on each one.

you:

im on my way <3

see you soon baby

your smile grew brighter when you saw the heart reaction appear over each message.

you grabbed you car keys and rushed out the door, eager to see nick. god you loved him so much.

divider by: @/Kafekitsune

HI omg i’m so excited. this is probably my favorite thing i’ve written so far im such a hopeless romantic omfg. i hope u guys enjoy this just as much as i do, im literally obsessed. I NEED TO SEE MORE NICK FICS NOW >:(

- ace <3

taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter

#Spotify #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo x reader

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