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dandelions-143 · 1 month ago

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Sex Tape - Hyunjin

Kintober Masterlist

Word Count: 5114

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, explicit sexual content, taped sexual acts, over stem.

No summary just smut under the cut

You held your hand out, fingers splayed in a futile attempt to shield your face from the lens of the vintage video recorder Hyunjin was pointing at you. The device, an old Panasonic VHS-C camcorder from the late 1980s, was just the latest addition to his ever-growing collection of retro cameras. Its bulky form and slightly worn edges spoke of years of use, giving it a charm that modern, sleek devices simply couldn't match.

"Hyunjin, stop!" you whined, your voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement. The red recording light blinked steadily, a silent testament to the moment being captured. "Come on... I look terrible today." Your hair was slightly disheveled, and you were wearing your comfiest, albeit least flattering, loungewear - a baggy t-shirt with a faded logo and well-worn sweatpants.

Hyunjin chuckled, the sound warm and affectionate. His eyes crinkled at the corners, forming little crow's feet that you found utterly endearing. He lowered the camera slightly, revealing his face. His hair was pushed back with a headband, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. The soft whirring of the device filled the comfortable silence between you, a nostalgic sound that transported you back to a time before digital dominance.

"You're stunning," he insisted, his voice rich with sincerity. His gaze softened as he looked at you, a mix of adoration and admiration evident in his eyes. "You could definitely be an actress, a model... your face is made for the camera." As he spoke, he adjusted the focus ring on the lens, ensuring every detail of your expression was captured perfectly.

His words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, a blush creeping up your neck despite your attempts to hide. The compliment, delivered with such earnestness, made your heart flutter. You could feel the warmth spreading across your face, knowing that the old camera, with its ability to capture the subtle play of light and shadow, would undoubtedly record your flushed complexion in all its glory.

Noticing your persistent shyness, Hyunjin gently set the camera down on a nearby mahogany table. He angled it carefully, ensuring it would still capture the intimate moment unfolding between you.

Hyunjin approached you with measured steps, his movements slow and deliberate. The floorboards creaked softly beneath his feet, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room. "Hey," he said, his voice as gentle as a summer breeze. He reached out, his hands warm and inviting. As his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a comforting tingle spread from your fingertips up your arms.

"You don't have to hide," Hyunjin continued, his eyes soft and understanding. "I just want to capture this moment with you." His thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, a silent reassurance. Slowly, he guided your hands away from your face, revealing your features to the camera's lens.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, its rhythm quickening at the tenderness in Hyunjin's gaze. His eyes, a warm shade of brown, held a depth of emotion that made you feel cherished and safe. The vintage camera continued its soft mechanical song in the background, a testament to Hyunjin's passion for preserving memories in a tangible, nostalgic format.

"Okay, okay," you conceded with a soft laugh that filled the room like melodious chimes. You squeezed his hands, feeling the strength in his grip. "But only because it's you." The words came out barely above a whisper, laden with affection.

Hyunjin's face transformed at your words, lighting up with unbridled joy. His smile, brighter than any camera flash, crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed a row of perfect teeth. The happiness radiating from him was almost palpable, filling the space between you with warmth and love.

Hyunjin returned to the camera, his eyes sparkling with renewed enthusiasm. As he lifted the device, its weight familiar in his hands, you felt a sudden surge of confidence coursing through your veins. The nervousness that had plagued you earlier evaporated like morning mist, replaced by a playful energy that tingled in your fingertips.

You struck an exaggerated pose, channeling your inner supermodel. Your arms stretched dramatically overhead, one hip cocked to the side, and your lips pursed in an over-the-top pout. The ridiculous stance caused Hyunjin to burst into laughter, the sound rich and warm, filling the room with joy. His shoulders shook with mirth as he struggled to keep the camera steady, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you loved.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged between chuckles, his voice warm with affection and a hint of something more. "Just be yourself." The vintage camera whirred softly, capturing your genuine smile, the love that shone in your eyes, and the comfortable intimacy between you. The red recording light blinked steadily, a silent witness to your shared moment.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself relaxing more and more under Hyunjin's attentive gaze. You twirled for the camera, letting out a carefree laugh as your hair fanned out around you. The soft afternoon light streaming through the windows caught the highlights in your tresses, creating a halo effect that Hyunjin couldn't help but admire.

Suddenly, Hyunjin lowered the camera slightly, his eyes meeting yours over the top of the device. A mischievous glint appeared in his gaze, sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine. "Hey, baby," he said, his voice dropping to a sultry tone that made your breath catch in your throat. "Why don't you show me your sexy side?"

The suggestion caught you off guard, a delicious mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach like a swarm of butterflies. Your breath hitched as you considered his words, the atmosphere in the room shifting palpably. The air seemed to grow thicker, charged with an electric tension that made your skin prickle with awareness. You could feel the weight of Hyunjin's gaze on you, intense and full of desire, as he waited for your response.

"You mean... like, right now?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and intrigue. Your eyes widened slightly, a flush creeping up your neck as the implications of Hyunjin's suggestion sank in. The room suddenly felt warmer, the air thick with anticipation.

Hyunjin nodded, his gaze intense as he watched you through the viewfinder. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the movement drawing your attention to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the camera, betraying his own nervousness and excitement.

"Only if you're comfortable," he assured you, his voice dropping an octave lower, the deep timbre sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually a warm brown, had darkened with desire, the pupils dilating as they roamed over your form. "But I'd love to capture how beautiful and sensual you are." His words hung in the air between you, charged with electricity. They ignited a spark of desire within you, your skin tingling with anticipation, goosebumps rising along your arms despite the warmth of the room.

You bit your lip, considering his request. The soft flesh gave under your teeth, and you noticed how Hyunjin's gaze zeroed in on the movement, his breath catching audibly. The vintage camera whirred softly in his hands, its mechanical sound oddly soothing in the charged atmosphere. It was a tangible reminder of the moment, of the potential to capture something intimate and beautiful.

With a deep breath, you decided to embrace the moment. You could feel your inhibitions slowly melting away like ice under a warm sun, replaced by a heady mix of nervousness and excitement. Your heart raced in your chest, its rhythm matching the steady blink of the camera's recording light. As you met Hyunjin's gaze again, a silent understanding passed between you, and you felt a surge of confidence. This was Hyunjin, after all - the person you trusted most in the world. With him, you were safe to explore, to be vulnerable, to be sensual.

Your fingers, trembling with a mix of nervousness and excitement, traced a delicate path down your body. They danced along your collarbone, skimmed over the swell of your breasts, and finally came to rest at the hem of your shirt. The soft cotton fabric felt cool against your fingertips as you toyed with it, your touch feather-light and teasing. You could feel the heat of Hyunjin's gaze through the camera lens, his intense focus making your skin tingle.

With a coy smile playing on your lips, you slowly began to lift the material. The fabric whispered against your skin as it rose, revealing your body inch by tantalizing inch. First, the smooth plane of your stomach came into view, the soft curves of your waist accentuated by the dim lighting. As you continued to raise the shirt, the delicate lace of your bra peeked out, the intricate patterns casting subtle shadows on your skin.

Hyunjin's reaction was immediate and visceral. His breath hitched audibly, the sound sharp in the quiet room. You watched as his knuckles turned white, his grip on the camera tightening to the point where you could see the tendons in his hands straining. Despite his obvious desire, his movements remained steady, the camera unwavering as he captured every sensual movement. The red recording light blinked steadily, a silent witness to the intimate moment unfolding between you.

Emboldened by Hyunjin's encouraging gaze, you let your shirt fall to the floor with a soft rustle. The fabric whispered against your skin as it descended, revealing your lace-trimmed bra inch by tantalizing inch. The delicate material hugged your curves perfectly, the intricate floral patterns of the lace casting intricate shadows on your skin in the dim light. Your chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, the subtle movement drawing Hyunjin's eyes to the swell of your breasts.

The camera's soft whirring seemed to intensify, its mechanical purr matching the rapid beating of your heart. You could almost feel the heat of Hyunjin's gaze through the lens, his eyes darkening with unbridled desire. His pupils dilated visibly as he drank in the sight of you, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "You're breathtaking, baby," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, husky and thick with want.

You bit down on your bottom lip, feeling the plump flesh give under your teeth. The slight sting sent a jolt of pleasure through you, heightening your senses. Your fingers, trembling slightly with anticipation, trailed over your exposed stomach. The touch left a trail of tingling skin in its wake, goosebumps rising as your hand moved lower. You traced the curve of your hip, fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants before coming to rest on the soft fabric of your sweat pants.

"You watching?" you teased, your voice low and sultry, barely above a whisper. Your eyes locked with Hyunjin's, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat. "Don't take your eyes off me, now." The words came out as both a command and a plea, charged with the electric tension building between you. You held his gaze, feeling a heady rush of power at the way his eyes seemed unable to leave your form. The red recording light of the camera blinked steadily, silently capturing every detail of this intimate moment.

Your hands moved to remove your pants, the soft rustle of the draw strings being untied and coming undone echoing in the quiet room. The sound seemed amplified in the charged atmosphere, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. With deliberate slowness, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband, relishing the feel of the soft material against your fingertips. You began to slide the fabric down your hips, revealing more and more skin. The cloth whispered against your legs as it fell, the friction creating a subtle tingling sensation that heightened your awareness of every exposed nerve ending.

Hyunjin's gaze intensified, his eyes darkening with unbridled desire as the camera captured every exquisite detail. You could see his pupils dilate even more, drinking in the sight of your curves being unveiled - the soft dip of your waist, the gentle swell of your hips, the smooth expanse of your thighs. The vintage camera whirred softly, its mechanical purr a stark contrast to Hyunjin's labored breathing. "Baby, you're driving me crazy," he murmured, his voice thick and husky with want. A slight tremor in his hands betrayed his composure, the camera wavering almost imperceptibly as he fought to keep it steady.

You giggled softly, the sound light and teasing, a stark contrast to the heavy tension in the air. Slowly, you turned around, presenting your back to Hyunjin. The movement was deliberate, almost choreographed in its sensuality. You glanced over your shoulder, catching his intense gaze through the camera lens. The heat in his eyes sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core. Your hands, slightly trembling with anticipation, reached behind you to unhook your bra. The delicate lace fabric whispered against your skin as you carefully unclasped each hook, the suspense building with every tiny 'click'. The straps slid down your shoulders, revealing the smooth plane of your back inch by inch. You could feel Hyunjin's gaze like a physical touch, tracing the curve of your spine, the subtle dimples at the small of your back.

As the bra fell away, you let it slide down your arms with exquisite slowness, savoring the sensation of the cool air kissing your newly exposed skin. Goosebumps erupted across your flesh, a physical manifestation of the anticipation coursing through your veins. You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes locking with Hyunjin's intense gaze through the camera lens. His eyes, usually a warm brown, had darkened to near black with desire, his pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the iris. His lips were slightly parted, his breath coming in shallow pants as he drank in the sight of your bare back.

The anticipation built to a fever pitch as you began to turn to face him. Your movements were deliberate and sensual, each shift of your body a carefully choreographed dance designed to tease and entice. As you pivoted, the soft glow of the room played across your skin, casting gentle shadows that accentuated every curve and dip of your body. The light caught the subtle sheen of perspiration on your skin, making you glisten like a work of art come to life.

Hyunjin's reaction was immediate and visceral. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips, the sound so primal it made your pussy throb intensely. The camera wavered in his hands, the image blurring momentarily as his grip faltered. You watched as he visibly steadied himself, his jaw clenching with the effort of maintaining his composure. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his hold on the camera, determined to capture every exquisite detail of your beauty despite his own overwhelming desire.

His eyes roamed over your body with an intensity that felt almost tangible, as if his gaze alone could caress your skin. You could see the hunger burning in his eyes as they traced the slope of your neck, lingered on the swell of your breasts, and followed the curve of your waist. His chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, each inhale sharp and ragged. A flush had crept up his neck, staining his cheeks a deep red that spoke volumes about the depth of his arousal. The air between you crackled with tension, electric and charged with unspoken promises of pleasure to come.

Your nipples instantly hardened under his scrutiny, the cool air and the heat of his gaze sending electric shivers cascading down your spine. You watched, heart racing, as his eyes focused intently on your breasts, drinking in every detail of your peaked nipples and the soft, inviting curves of your chest. Hyunjin's tongue darted out, slowly wetting his lips in an unconscious gesture of want. The tip of his pink tongue traced the outline of his mouth, leaving a glistening trail that caught the dim light. His lips, now moist and slightly parted, looked even more inviting than usual, tempting you to lean in and capture them with your own.

"Keep going, baby," Hyunjin encouraged, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that seemed to reverberate through your very core. The deep timbre of his words sent a jolt of arousal straight to your center, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through your body. You could hear the barely contained desire in his voice, the way it trembled slightly with the effort of maintaining control. "You're so beautiful," he continued, his eyes never leaving your body as he adjusted the camera slightly. The soft whir of the device seemed amplified in the charged atmosphere. "I want to capture every inch of you, every curve, every perfect detail." His words washed over you like a warm caress, making you feel both exposed and empowered. You could see the adoration in his eyes, mixed with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat. Your confidence grew with each passing second under his adoring gaze, emboldening you to move with even more sensuality. The knowledge that every movement, every expression was being immortalized on film only heightened your arousal, pushing you to embrace your sexuality fully.

"Turn around for me," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. His eyes, dark and intense, roamed over your body as you slowly pivoted. The soft whir of the camera filled the room, punctuated by Hyunjin's sharp intake of breath. The red recording light blinked steadily, capturing every curve and contour of your form.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his free hand reaching out to caress your skin. The first touch of his fingers sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you gasp and arch into his touch. His calloused fingertips, warm and slightly rough, traced delicate patterns along your collarbone. The contrast between his gentle touch and the coolness of the air made goosebumps erupt across your skin.

Slowly, teasingly, his hand moved lower. It skimmed over the swell of your breast, his thumb just barely grazing your nipple. The feather-light touch sent a shiver down your spine, your nipple hardening instantly. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his hand continued its exploration, tracing the curve of your waist and the dip of your ribcage. Each touch left a trail of tingling skin in its wake, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers danced along the sensitive skin of your stomach, the muscles there quivering under his touch.

With agonizing slowness, he slid his hand lower, his touch feather-light yet scorching against your sensitive skin. His fingers danced over the curve of your ass, kneading the soft flesh with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his eyes. A low, primal growl rumbled deep in his chest as he pressed his body flush against yours, the heat of his skin searing into you like a brand. Every hard plane of his muscles, every defined contour of his body molded perfectly against your softer curves, creating a delicious friction that had you gasping for air.

You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against your back, his heart thundering in tandem with yours. The contrast between his firm grip on your hip and the gentle caress of his other hand, still steadily holding the camera, sent conflicting waves of sensation through your body. It was as if he was simultaneously claiming you and worshipping you, the dichotomy igniting a fire deep in your core that threatened to consume you entirely.

The feel of his hard, sculpted muscles pressing against your soft flesh sent violent shivers cascading down your spine. Every subtle movement, every breath, allowed you to map the contours of his toned body with your skin. The heat radiating from him was almost overwhelming, his skin feeling like liquid fire against yours. The stark contrast between his firm, chiseled physique and your softer, more yielding curves was intoxicating, each point of contact between your bodies a source of exquisite pleasure.

A powerful wave of arousal rolled through your body, starting from where his skin met yours and spreading outward like wildfire. The intensity of the sensation made you instinctively squeeze your thighs together, desperately seeking some friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs.

Hyunjin's voice dropped to a seductive whisper, his hot breath tickling the sensitive shell of your ear. "Turn around, baby," he murmured, his lips barely grazing your earlobe. "Let me see that beautiful face." His words were like liquid velvet, wrapping around you and drawing you in, impossible to resist.

You complied, your movements slow and deliberate. As you turned, you savored the exquisite sensation of his body sliding against yours. The friction of skin on skin was electrifying, each point of contact sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Your nipples, already hardened peaks, brushed against his chest, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

Finally face to face, your eyes met his intense gaze through the camera lens. You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable under his scrutiny, yet the vulnerability only served to heighten your arousal. Your heart raced, its rapid tempo echoing in your ears as a flush crept up your chest, staining your cheeks a deep crimson.

"Now," Hyunjin commanded softly, his voice husky and thick with desire, "touch yourself for me." His free hand reached out, fingers ghosting along your collarbone, leaving a trail of tingling skin in their wake. "Start with your breasts. Show me how you like to be touched." His eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat, pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises.

Your hands trembled with anticipation as you cupped your breasts, the soft, pliant flesh yielding under your touch. You began to tease the sensitive buds, your fingers dancing across the areolas before gently rolling the hardened peaks between your thumb and forefinger. The sensation sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making your breath catch in your throat.

A soft, breathy moan escaped your lips as you increased the pressure, pinching your nipples with just enough force to teeter on the edge of pain and pleasure. The jolt of sensation went straight to your core, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through your lower belly. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your breasts further into your hands as you continued your ministrations.

Hyunjin's reaction was immediate. His breath hitched audibly, the sound sharp and ragged in the quiet room. The camera wavered slightly in his grip, the image blurring for a moment before he steadied himself. His eyes, dark with desire, were fixed on your hands as they worked your breasts.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice dropping an octave lower, thick and husky with lust. The sound sent another wave of arousal coursing through your body. "You're so fucking sexy. The way you touch yourself... it's driving me crazy." He shifted his stance, adjusting his grip on the camera. "Keep going," he urged, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Show me how good it feels."

"Slide your hand down," he instructed, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent electricity coursing through your veins. The roughness in his tone was palpable, each word dripping with unbridled desire. "Spread those beautiful legs for me," he continued, his eyes darkening to an almost obsidian hue. "I want to see just how wet you are for me, baby." His gaze, intense and unwavering, burned into your skin as he made minute adjustments to the camera, ensuring every tantalizing detail would be captured.

You complied, your fingers quivering with a mix of anticipation and arousal as they traced a torturously slow path down your stomach. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of your touch. Your breath hitched as your hand inched lower, the anticipation building with each passing second. As your legs parted, the rush of cool air against your heated core made you gasp audibly, the sudden contrast in temperature sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Your fingers finally reached the apex of your thighs, and the first brush against your sensitive flesh elicited a breathy moan that echoed in the quiet room. The camera whirred softly, its lens drinking in every detail - the slight arch of your back as pleasure coursed through you, the rosy flush that crept up your chest, painting your skin with desire, and the way your teeth worried your bottom lip, a mix of concentration and ecstasy etched on your features. Your fingers explored further, sliding through the slick heat of your arousal, and you couldn't suppress the shuddering gasp that escaped your lips as you touched yourself more intimately.

"That's my good girl," Hyunjin praised, his voice thick with lust. The sound of it sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core, making your inner walls clench with anticipation. His eyes, dark and intense, burned with desire behind the camera lens, drinking in every minute detail of your exposed form. "Now, I want you to finger yourself," he continued, his words coming out in a low, gravelly tone that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. "Nice and slow. Let me hear every pretty little sound you make."

You held his gaze as you settled back, your body sinking into the soft, cool sheets. The contrast between the silky fabric and your heated skin sent a shiver down your spine. "Like this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breathy and trembling with arousal. Your fingers, slightly shaky with anticipation, found your swollen clit. The first contact sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you gasp audibly. You began to circle it slowly, teasingly, feeling it swell further under your touch. Each pass of your fingertips sent waves of pleasure radiating outward, making your toes curl and your back arch slightly off the bed. Your hips rolled instinctively, seeking more friction, the movement fluid and sensual. The soft whir of the camera seemed to grow louder in the charged atmosphere, capturing every twitch, every gasp, every expression of pleasure that flitted across your face.

In the dim lighting, your arousal glistened on your fingers, the sight making Hyunjin's breath hitch audibly. The soft, warm light cast a golden glow on your skin, accentuating every curve and dip of your body. Your fingers moved languidly, spreading the slick wetness, each movement causing the light to dance across your glistening flesh. The sight was mesmerizing, drawing Hyunjin's gaze like a moth to a flame.

Your own labored breathing mixed with Hyunjin's, creating a symphony of desire that filled the room. Each exhale was punctuated by soft, breathy moans that seemed to caress the air. The sound of your pleasure was intoxicating, making Hyunjin's heart race and his body burn with need. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Through the fabric of his pants, you could clearly see the outline of Hyunjin's hardening cock. It strained against the confines of his clothing, the impressive length and girth evident even through the layers. As he palmed himself, trying to alleviate some of the building pressure, the movement only served to emphasize his arousal further. His hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, matching the rhythm of your own ministrations.

Hyunjin's struggle to keep the camera steady was evident in the slight tremor of his hands. The vintage camera, with its bulky form and worn edges, seemed to weigh heavier in his grip as his desire grew. He shifted his stance, trying to find a balance between capturing every tantalizing detail and giving in to his own mounting pleasure. The soft whir of the camera's mechanics provided a constant backdrop to the erotic scene unfolding before its lens, preserving every moan, every touch, every heated glance for posterity.

Your back arched off the bed, a sinuous curve that highlighted the sensual lines of your body, as you slowly slid two fingers inside yourself. The initial penetration drew a breathy, trembling moan from your lips, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The sensation of your own fingers exploring your wet heat was electric, sending shivers cascading down your spine like a waterfall of pleasure. You could feel every ridge, every fold of your inner walls as they clenched eagerly around your digits, desperate for more stimulation.

As you began to move your fingers, curling them slightly to brush against that sensitive spot inside you, your body responded with a symphony of micro-expressions. Your toes curled, pressing into the sheets, while your free hand fisted in the bedding, knuckles turning white with the intensity of your grip. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, punctuated by soft whimpers of pleasure that seemed to hang in the air.

Hyunjin's reaction to this display was visceral and immediate. His eyes, already dark with desire, seemed to darken further, his pupils dilating so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises. The change was subtle but profound, transforming his gaze into something primal and hungry. His grip on the camera tightened visibly, the tendons in his hands standing out in sharp relief as he struggled to keep the device steady. A soft, almost inaudible growl rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated want.

Unconsciously, Hyunjin's tongue darted out to wet his lips once again, leaving them glistening in the low light. The movement was slow, almost sensual, as if he was imagining tasting you instead. His gaze remained unwaveringly fixed on the movement of your hand between your legs, tracking every twist and curl of your fingers with an intensity that was almost palpable. The soft whir of the camera seemed to grow louder in the charged atmosphere, capturing every twitch, every gasp, every expression of pleasure that flitted across your face.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire, a low rumble that reverberated through your bones. His eyes, dark and intense, burned into yours with an almost predatory hunger. "You look so fucking good like this. The way your fingers move, the flush on your skin... it's intoxicating." He licked his lips, his gaze never wavering from your writhing form. "Keep going, show me exactly how you like to be touched. Every little detail, every spot that makes you shiver." His words, dripping with raw, unfiltered arousal, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you entirely.

Hyunjin's resolve finally shattered, the tension in his body palpable as he carefully set the camera down on the nightstand. His movements were deliberate, almost reverent, as he angled it meticulously to capture the entire bed. The soft whir of the device seemed to echo in the charged atmosphere, a constant reminder that every moment of your shared passion would be immortalized. "I can't just watch anymore," he growled, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to his shirt buttons with an urgency that betrayed his barely contained desire, fingers trembling slightly as they worked to expose his skin.

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating with arousal as you watched him strip. Each inch of his toned body was revealed in agonizing slowness, as if he was purposely teasing you with the display. The planes of his abs flexed and rippled with each movement, the low, warm light of the room casting dramatic shadows that accentuated every curve and dip of his muscled form. A thin sheen of sweat had begun to form on his skin, making it glisten tantalizingly. You found yourself mesmerized by the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the strength and grace of his body on full display. The sight of him, combined with the knowledge that every second was being captured on film, sent a fresh surge of arousal flooding through you, making your core clench with anticipation.

He swiftly discarded his remaining clothing, his erection springing free with an audible slap against his toned abdomen. Your eyes widened, pupils dilating at the sight of his impressive length. It stood proudly erect, the shaft thick and veined, the head swollen and glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the dim light. Your mouth watered involuntarily, your tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips. Your fingers, still buried between your legs, increased their pace, matching your rising anticipation.

Hyunjin's approach was predatory, his movements fluid and calculated as he crawled onto the bed. His muscles rippled under his skin with each motion, the low light casting shadows that accentuated every curve and dip of his physique. His eyes, now almost black with lust, were fixed unwaveringly on your writhing form. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like prey, pinned and exposed under his scrutiny. "Keep touching yourself," he commanded, his voice a deep, husky growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. The authoritative tone brooked no argument as he positioned himself between your legs, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his exhalation against your inner thigh, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room that raised goosebumps across your flesh. He placed a soft, almost reverent kiss on the sensitive skin there, his lips warm and slightly chapped from his heavy breathing. Then another kiss, slightly higher, and another, slowly working his way up your thigh with agonizing precision. Each press of his lips sent jolts of pleasure shooting through your body, making your skin tingle and your muscles twitch with anticipation. The teasing pace was maddening, each kiss bringing him tantalizingly closer to where you needed him most.

"You taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin but still loud enough for the camera to pick up. The vibration of his words against your sensitive flesh sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. Without warning, his tongue darted out, licking a long, slow stripe up your slit. The sudden wet heat of it made you gasp audibly, your back arching off the bed. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward from your core. A loud, unrestrained moan tore from your throat, the sound echoing in the room and undoubtedly captured by the camera's microphone. Your hips bucked involuntarily against his face, seeking more of that delicious friction, desperate for him to continue his ministrations.

"I can't wait to watch you later," he mumbled against your inner thigh, his breath hot and moist against your sensitive skin. The warmth of his exhalation sent shivers racing up your spine, making your muscles twitch with anticipation. "How fucking perfect and sweet my girl is." His lips brushed against your flesh as he spoke, the slight friction igniting sparks of pleasure that radiated outward. The vibration of his deep voice against your skin added another layer of sensation, making you gasp softly. His words, dripping with raw desire, sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body, making your core clench with need.

Hyunjin's tongue worked magic on your sensitive flesh, his skilled mouth drawing out breathy moans and whimpers from your lips. He alternated between broad, flat strokes that covered your entire slit, the wet heat of his tongue sliding from your entrance to your clit in one fluid motion, and focused flicks against your swollen bundle of nerves. Each pass of his tongue sent jolts of electricity through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the pleasure built within you, threatening to overflow. You could feel the silky strands of his hair between your fingers, the texture a stark contrast to the slick heat of his mouth against you. Your grip tightened involuntarily with each wave of ecstasy that washed over you, causing Hyunjin to moan against your core, the vibrations adding yet another layer to the overwhelming sensations.

The camera continued to whir softly in the background, its presence a constant reminder that every intimate moment of your shared ecstasy was being immortalized on film. The knowledge that your most private expressions of pleasure were being captured, every moan, every twitch, every flush of your skin, only served to heighten your arousal further. The soft mechanical sound seemed to blend with your heavy breathing and Hyunjin's hungry groans, creating a symphony of desire that filled the room. You could almost feel the lens of the camera on your skin, its gaze as palpable and electrifying as Hyunjin's touch, preserving this moment of intense passion for eternity.

"Fuck, baby," Hyunjin growled, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. The warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin sent electric shivers cascading up your spine, making your toes curl with pleasure. His skilled tongue traced intricate patterns, alternating between broad, flat strokes that covered your entire slit and focused, rapid flicks against your swollen clit. Each pass of his tongue sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, making your back arch off the bed. "I want to make you scream,” he murmured, the vibration of his words against your core adding another layer of sensation that had you gasping.

You bucked your hips against his face, desperate for more friction. Your fingers tangled in his silky hair, pulling him closer, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. The gentle tug elicited a deep moan from Hyunjin, the sound reverberating through your core. The soft whir of the camera in the background only heightened your arousal, reminding you that every moan, every twitch, every expression of pleasure was being immortalized on film. "Please, Hyunjin," you begged, your voice breathy and high-pitched with need, cracking slightly as another wave of pleasure washed over you. "I need you inside me. Now." Your words hung in the air, heavy with desperation and desire.

Hyunjin smirked, his lips glistening with your arousal as he rose up to position himself at your entrance. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like prey, pinned and exposed under his scrutiny. "You want my cock, baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with raw, unfiltered arousal. He teased your entrance with the tip of his length, the swollen head sliding tantalizingly along your slick folds, making you whimper with need. Your hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more contact, more friction, more of him. "Tell me how badly you want it," he commanded, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Show me, just how much you crave my cock."

"I want it so fucking bad," you moaned, your voice thick with desire. Your legs spread wider, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your fingers clutched desperately at the sheets, knuckles turning white as you gripped tighter. The cool fabric against your heated skin sent shivers down your spine. "Please, fuck me hard," you begged, your eyes locked on Hyunjin's, pupils dilated with lust. "I need to feel every inch of you.”

Without warning, Hyunjin pushed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful motion. The sudden fullness made you cry out in ecstasy, your back arching off the bed. Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red trails across his smooth skin. The sharp sting only seemed to spur him on. "That's it, baby," he grunted, his voice low and husky in your ear. He set a punishing pace, each thrust driving deeper than the last. The bed creaked rhythmically beneath you, the headboard thumping against the wall with each powerful movement. "Take it.. so good.. fuck yes," he growled, his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. "Show the camera how well you can take it, how perfectly you were made for me."

The room filled with a symphony of passion - the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of your arousal, your high-pitched moans mingling with Hyunjin's deep, guttural grunts. The camera continued to record faithfully, its lens capturing every thrust, every expression of ecstasy on your faces. You could almost feel its gaze on your skin, heightening your awareness of every touch, every sensation. The knowledge that your most intimate moments were being immortalized on film sent a thrill of excitement through you, fueling your arousal to new heights. Your eyes fluttered closed as pleasure overwhelmed you, but Hyunjin's voice brought you back. "Open your eyes, baby," he commanded breathlessly. "Let the camera see how good I make you feel, how beautifully you come undone for me."

"You're so fucking tight," Hyunjin groaned, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. Sweat glistened on his brow, trickling down his temple and along the sharp line of his jaw. His muscles rippled and flexed with each powerful movement, the low light accentuating every curve and dip of his toned physique. "Squeeze my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you love it.”

You clenched around him, your inner walls gripping his length tightly. The sensation of your silken heat constricting around him drew out a deep, guttural moan from his lips. The sound reverberated through your body, sending shivers down your spine. "That's it," he praised, his hand snaking between your bodies. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles that made your vision blur at the edges. The dual stimulation of his relentless thrusts and the expert manipulation of your sensitive bundle of nerves made your toes curl, your back arching off the bed as pleasure built rapidly in your core. "I want you to cum all over my cock," Hyunjin growled, his eyes dark with lust as they bore into yours.

Hyunjin slipped his fingers into your mouth, his eyes dark with desire. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, his pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises. "Suck," he commanded, his voice husky and demanding, the single word dripping with raw, unfiltered lust. You eagerly complied, your tongue swirling around his digits with practiced precision. The taste of your own arousal mingled with the salt of his skin, creating an intoxicating flavor that made your head spin. Your taste buds exploded with the tangy sweetness of your juices combined with the slightly bitter, musky flavor of his skin.

The camera captured every detail as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking his fingers deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. Your lips wrapped tightly around his digits, the soft pink flesh a stark contrast against his tanned skin. A thin string of saliva connected your bottom lip to his hand as you pulled back slightly, only to take his fingers deeper again. Your eyes never left his, the intensity of your shared gaze adding another layer to your building pleasure. You could see the fire burning in his eyes, the raw desire that threatened to consume you both.

"Good girl," Hyunjin groaned, his hips never slowing their relentless pace. His voice was thick with desire, the words coming out as a gravelly growl that sent shivers cascading down your spine. You could feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest, pressed flush against yours. "Show the camera how well you can use that pretty mouth." The words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation, each syllable dripping with promise and barely contained lust.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Hyunjin reached over to grab the camera, his movements fluid and purposeful. The muscles in his arm flexed as he stretched, the low light accentuating every curve and dip of his toned physique. He never broke his rhythm, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, the steady slap of skin on skin providing a primal backdrop to the scene. "I want to capture every detail of your beautiful face," he panted, bringing the lens close to your flushed features. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, warm against your skin. The cool metal of the camera contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from your skin, the sudden temperature change making you gasp around his fingers. The lens of the camera glinted in the dim light, its unblinking eye drinking in every detail of your pleasure-contorted face.

The camera whirred softly as Hyunjin angled it to capture your parted lips and lust-filled eyes. The mechanical sound, a gentle hum in the background, seemed to heighten your senses exponentially. Every nerve ending in your body became hypersensitive, acutely aware of the slightest touch or movement. The cool metal of the camera contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from your flushed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Look at the camera, baby," Hyunjin commanded, his voice husky and thick with desire. The low, gravelly tone of his words vibrated through your body, igniting a fire deep within your core. His breath, hot and heavy, ghosted over your ear as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the thrill of being recorded, sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch slightly off the bed.

You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room as your eyes locked with the lens. Hyunjin continued to thrust deep inside you, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The camera's unblinking eye seemed to drink in every detail - the flush spreading across your cheeks, the way your lips parted with each gasp, the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. Knowing that every expression of ecstasy was being immortalized on film sent a new surge of arousal through you, intensifying every sensation tenfold.

"Yeah..," Hyunjin groaned, his free hand tangling in your hair. His fingers wove through the strands, gently tugging at your scalp. The slight pain mixed with pleasure, sending sparks cascading down your spine and pooling in your lower abdomen. "You're so fucking beautiful when you're taking my cock." His words, raw and unfiltered, dripped with lust and admiration. The praise washed over you, further stoking the flames of your desire. You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest, pressed flush against yours, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body.

The camera lens captured every detail of your ecstasy-filled expression as Hyunjin continued his relentless pace. Your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the pleasure threatening to consume you entirely. But Hyunjin's voice brought you back, anchoring you to reality. "Open those beautiful eyes for me, baby," he commanded, his voice strained with pleasure. You could hear the tension in his words, feel it in the way his body moved against yours. "I want to see you cum.” His request was both thrilling and intimidating, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Your body tensed as you felt the familiar pressure building inside you. Hyunjin's thrusts became more erratic, his breathing ragged. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the room, mixing with the soft whir of the camera. Sweat glistened on your bodies, catching the dim light. "I'm close, baby," he groaned, his voice husky with desire. His eyes locked onto yours through the camera lens, dark and intense. "Cum with me. Let go."

With a cry of unbridled ecstasy, you felt yourself tipping over the edge of oblivion. Your back arched sharply off the bed, the curve of your spine almost painful in its intensity. Your fingers dug desperately into Hyunjin's shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his smooth skin. Your walls clenched rhythmically around Hyunjin's cock, the pulsating pressure so intense it bordered on overwhelming. Each contraction sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, from your curling toes to the roots of your hair.

Suddenly, an intense rush of warmth flooded between your legs. The sensation was unlike anything you'd experienced before - a powerful, uncontrollable release that left you gasping for air. You squirted forcefully, your juices coating Hyunjin's thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you. The warm liquid gushed out in pulsating waves, each one coinciding with a new crest of pleasure. The air filled with the heady scent of your arousal, musky and intoxicating.

The sensation was utterly overwhelming, short-circuiting your senses. Your toes curled so tightly you could feel the strain in your calves. Your vision blurred at the edges, the room seeming to spin around you. Bright spots danced behind your eyelids as you squeezed them shut, your mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to fire at once, leaving you trembling and oversensitive. The intensity of your orgasm left you breathless, your chest heaving as you struggled to draw air into your lungs.

Hyunjin's eyes widened in surprise and arousal, his pupils dilating so much that only a thin ring of brown remained visible. "Fuck, baby," he moaned, his voice breaking with pleasure, the words coming out as a guttural, primal sound. His hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he reached his own climax, his movements becoming erratic and desperate. He buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing forcefully as he came hard. You could feel the warmth of his release filling you, each powerful spurt intensifying your own pleasure. The sensation of his hot seed coating your inner walls sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, prolonging your orgasm. All the while, he managed to keep the camera steady on your face with trembling hands, his biceps flexing with the effort as he captured every moment of your shared ecstasy.

The camera faithfully recorded every minute detail of your shared orgasm - your flushed cheeks, a rosy tint spreading down to your chest and blooming across your collarbones. Your lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure, glistening with saliva from your earlier activities. Your eyes, half-lidded and hazy with bliss, remained locked with Hyunjin's through the lens, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never express. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on your skin, catching the low light and giving you an ethereal glow. Hyunjin's deep groans of pleasure mixed with your breathless moans and whimpers, creating a symphony of ecstasy that echoed off the walls. The air was thick with the heady scent of sex and sweat, a potent cocktail of pheromones adding to the sensory overload of the moment. The vintage camera whirred softly, its mechanical sound a stark contrast to the organic, passionate sounds filling the room, as it diligently immortalized this intimate, passionate encounter between you and Hyunjin.

As Hyunjin slowly withdrew, his eyes smoldering with renewed desire, he gracefully moved up your body. His cock, still semi-erect, glistened tantalizingly with your combined fluids. The dim, warm light of the room caught on the slick sheen, accentuating every prominent vein and ridge along his length. His well-defined muscles rippled smoothly under his tanned skin as he positioned himself over you, the vintage camera faithfully capturing every sensual movement.

"Taste yourself on me, baby," he commanded, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sent electric shivers cascading down your spine. The raw desire in his tone made your core clench with anticipation. "Show the camera how much you love it." His hot breath fanned across your flushed skin, carrying the intoxicating scent of sex and sweat that hung heavy in the air between you.

You eagerly complied, your tongue darting out to trace a slow, deliberate path along the underside of his shaft. The complex flavor of your combined essences exploded on your taste buds - a heady mixture of salt, musk, and a hint of sweetness that was uniquely you. The taste was so intense it drew a soft, breathy moan from your lips. The camera whirred softly in the background, its mechanical eye fixed on the scene as your lips wrapped around the swollen head of his cock. Your cheeks hollowed as you savored the tangy sweetness of your own juices mingled with his, your tongue swirling expertly around the sensitive tip. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, lost in the sensations - the weight of him on your tongue, the familiar stretch of your lips, the musky scent filling your nostrils. When you opened them again, you were met with Hyunjin's intense gaze, dark with lust and admiration, as he watched you through the camera's lens.

“Fuck," Hyunjin groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. His fingers tightened, sending electric sparks of pleasure-pain cascading across your scalp. You could feel the powerful trembling in his muscular thighs as he fought to maintain control, his body quivering with the effort of letting you set the pace. The veins in his neck stood out prominently as he strained, his jaw clenched tight. "Take it all in your pretty mouth, baby. Show the camera how well you can please me." His voice was low and husky, dripping with desire. The camera lens caught a glint of light, its unblinking eye capturing every intimate detail of your passionate encounter.

As you continued your ministrations, Hyunjin's reactions intensified palpably. His breathing became more ragged and uneven, punctuated by soft, breathy gasps and deep, guttural moans that reverberated through his chest. The camera faithfully recorded the subtle changes in his expression - the slight furrow of his brow as pleasure built within him, the way his full lips parted in ecstasy, revealing the perfect white teeth behind them. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek, catching the dim light and giving his skin a tantalizing sheen.

"You're absolutely incredible," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion and raw desire. The words came out barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking too loudly would break the spell of the moment. He was overly sensitive but you knew he liked being overstimulated, Hyunjins hips stuttered and jerked uncontrollably. His fingers, which had been gripping your hair tightly, now loosened, gently caressing your scalp in a tender gesture that contrasted beautifully with the passion of the moment. The touch was feather-light, almost reverent, as his fingertips traced delicate patterns against your skin. His eyes, dark with lust but soft with adoration, never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster.

You gazed up, your eyes meeting Hyunjin's through the camera lens. The connection between you was electric, a tangible current that transcended the physical act. His eyes, dark and intense, were filled with a potent mixture of love, admiration, and unbridled desire. The depth of your relationship was reflected in that gaze, speaking volumes without a single word uttered.

The room was enveloped in a cocoon of intimate silence, broken only by the soft, wet sounds of your ministrations and the gentle, rhythmic whir of the camera. The air was thick and warm, heavy with the intoxicating scent of your shared passion - a heady mixture of sweat, musk, and arousal. Every touch, every movement felt electric, charged with an intensity that made your skin tingle and your heart race.

With renewed determination, you redoubled your efforts. Your tongue moved with expert precision, swirling around Hyunjin's length in intricate patterns. You traced every prominent vein, every ridge, memorizing the texture and taste of him. Your cheeks hollowed as you created a tight suction, the sudden increase in pressure making Hyunjin gasp and his hips buck involuntarily. Slowly, deliberately, you took him deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat. You suppressed your gag reflex, your eyes watering slightly as you pushed past your limits. The fullness in your mouth, the weight on your tongue, the slight strain in your jaw - all of it combined into a heady cocktail of sensation that had you moaning around his length.

Your hands weren't idle. They roamed over his muscular thighs, feeling the tension coiling beneath your fingertips. You could sense the minute tremors in his muscles, the way they flexed and relaxed with each calculated movement of your mouth. Your nails, perfectly manicured, grazed lightly along his inner thighs, leaving faint red trails in their wake. The sensation elicited a full-body shudder from Hyunjin, his skin erupting in goosebumps under your touch.

Your fingers danced upwards, tracing the sharp V of his hips, feeling the definition of each muscle. They ghosted over his abs, feeling them contract and relax with each ragged breath. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the thin sheen of sweat making him glisten in the dim light.

Hyunjin's breathing became increasingly labored, his broad chest heaving with each gasping inhale. His moans grew in volume and intensity, transforming from soft, breathy sighs to deep, guttural groans that reverberated through the room. The sounds echoed off the walls, creating a symphony of pleasure that spurred you on, each noise a testament to your skill and dedication. You could taste the familiar salty sweetness of his pre-cum on your tongue, the flavor intensifying with each passing moment, a clear sign of his impending release.

As you worked him towards his second climax, your movements became more purposeful, more intense. Your tongue swirled around his length, tracing every vein and ridge with meticulous attention. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight suction that had Hyunjin's hips bucking involuntarily. Your hands moved to his hips, steadying him, your fingers digging into the firm flesh there.

You chanced a glance upwards through your lashes, and the sight that greeted you was nothing short of intoxicating. Hyunjin's head was thrown back, the long column of his throat exposed. His Adam's apple bobbed prominently as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenched tight. His plush lips were parted in a silent cry of ecstasy, occasionally forming soundless words - your name, perhaps, or breathless pleas for more. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin, making him glow in the soft light of the room. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes squeezed shut as he lost himself in the sensations you were providing.

The camera, still whirring softly in the background, captured every minute detail of his pleasure-contorted face. It immortalized the way his chest heaved with each labored breath, the flex of his abs as he fought to maintain control, the trembling in his thighs as he neared his peak. Every twitch, every gasp, every subtle change in his expression was forever preserved, a testament to this moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

"Fuck, baby," Hyunjin groaned, his free hand tangling in your hair, fingers twisting gently but firmly against your scalp. His voice was low and raspy, thick with desire. "I'm close. Don't stop." The desperation in his tone was palpable, sending shivers down your spine.

The camera continued to whir softly, its mechanical eye capturing every detail of your passionate exchange. Your lips moved up and down his shaft with increased fervor, your cheeks hollowing as you intensified the suction. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him completely, your tongue tracing intricate patterns along his length. Hyunjin's hips began to buck erratically, his grip on your hair tightening. His thighs trembled with the effort of holding back, muscles taut beneath your palms.

With a final, guttural moan that seemed to come from deep within his chest, Hyunjin reached his peak. His cock pulsed rhythmically in your mouth as he came, spilling his seed onto your waiting tongue. The taste was familiar yet intoxicating - salty, slightly bitter, uniquely him. You eagerly swallowed every drop, your throat working to take it all in. All the while, your eyes remained locked with his through the camera lens, the intensity of your shared gaze adding another layer of intimacy to the moment.

As Hyunjin's orgasm subsided, you gave his softening length one final, gentle lick, savoring the last traces of his essence. Your tongue swirled delicately around the sensitive head, eliciting a soft shudder from him. The oversensitivity made his breath hitch, a small gasp escaping his parted lips. The camera faithfully captured the look of pure satisfaction on both your faces, a testament to the intense passion you shared. Hyunjin's eyes were half-lidded, pupils still dilated, a mix of adoration and lingering desire evident in his gaze. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, making him appear almost ethereal in the dim light of the room.

Hyunjin lowered the camera, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the dim light of the room. The muscles in his arms quivered slightly from the exertion of holding the camera steady for so long. His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on you with a mixture of adoration and lingering desire.

"That was... absolutely incredible," he panted, a lazy smile spreading across his face. His voice was still husky, a reminder of the passionate sounds he had made just moments ago. His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your cheek, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I can't wait to watch this later. The way you look when you're lost in pleasure... it's breathtaking. The way your eyes flutter closed, the soft moans that escape your lips, the flush that spreads across your skin... it's like a work of art."

You glanced at Hyunjin, a soft smile playing on your lips. Your skin still tingled from his touch, every nerve ending hypersensitive in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. You could feel the pleasant ache in your muscles, a delicious reminder of the intensity you had just shared. The air around you was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, creating an intimate cocoon that separated you from the outside world.

"Baby, can you put the camera away now?" you asked, your voice gentle but pleading. Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. You marveled at the smoothness of his skin, the definition of his muscles, the way his body responded to even your lightest touch.

Hyunjin's eyes softened at your request, understanding the intimacy you craved. He carefully set the camera aside on the nightstand, his fingers lingering on the device for a moment before withdrawing. The soft click of the camera being set down echoed in the room, a subtle yet distinct sound that marked the transition from raw passion to tender affection. As he turned back to you, the dim light caught the contours of his face, highlighting the gentle curve of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips. You opened your arms invitingly, your body yearning for his warmth, the sheets rustling softly beneath you as you shifted to create a perfect space for him.

"Come here," you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes, still hazy with lingering desire, met his, conveying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't express. The sheets whispered against your skin as you moved, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from your body. Your fingers reached out, ghosting over his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Without hesitation, Hyunjin moved towards you, his movements fluid and graceful. He gathered you in his arms, his skin warm and slightly damp against yours, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the room. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he settled beside you, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if trying to convey all his emotions through that simple gesture. You could feel the softness of his lips, the gentle puff of his breath against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You snuggled deeper into his warm embrace, intertwining your legs with his and pressing your body flush against his. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat reverberated through your chest, a soothing cadence that matched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His arms tightened around you, one hand tracing lazy patterns on your back while the other cradled your head, fingers tangling in your hair. The scent of his skin - a mix of his natural musk and the faint traces of cologne - enveloped you, familiar and comforting.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter, the world outside your intimate bubble faded away into insignificance. The soft sound of your synchronized breathing filled the room, punctuated occasionally by the rustle of sheets as one of you shifted slightly. The warmth of your bodies mingled, creating a cocoon of comfort and contentment. In this moment, wrapped in each other's arms, nothing else mattered - just the two of you, your love, and the intimacy you shared.

Tags: @rylea08 @syedazarintasnim @cashtonsbetch @pasaatimonarkin @tzeweiii05 @sincerely-sun @moonchild9350 @athforskz @babigriin @seunmong-in @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @bangchans-angel @salemluvsmusic @seungmincenteric @kpflyn @iovecb97 @juskz @sadrosessing @fawnpeaks @galaxy4489 @chuuyaobsessed @tirena1 @tsunderelino @kissesmellow21 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nightmarenyxx @simpforleeknaur @ririwhiskers @satosugu4l @mihoonz @redlightsrachaaa @mintymintmint251 @velvetmoonlght @minniesverse @everythingboutkpop @yaorzu-blog

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sushirrrry · 2 months ago

Text

pulse. a harry styles one-shot; 12k words. the one where harry goes with his best friend, jack, and jack's little sister, charli to a music festival. CW: language, explicit sexual content (fingering, squirting, intercourse), explicit drug use

“And that’s when I knew I wanted to save the world, one fire at a time.”

The looks from the girls in front of them were flourished with admiration, maybe a bit of chaos and something that was a bit more addictive than that. But Jack was pushing his shoulder into Harry as they stood there, trying his best to play the wingman that Harry had desperately tried to dismiss the entire situation.

Harry held the bottle between his fingers, lifting it to take a sip as the morning sun rounded out into the cloudless sky. The tension in his back was killing him, his eyes were a bit heavy at the way that he tossed and turned all night from laying on the ground.

“But my guy here,” Jack took his hand on Harry’s shoulder to bring his attention back, “This guy saves more than just lives— he’s preserving the art in the minds of children.”

Jack was laying it on heavy, building up every detail of Harry’s life to mean much more than it was. Harry being a primary school music teacher wasn’t anything that was new and exciting in the real world. Jack made it sound much, much more delicate, and necessary than it was.

The two girl’s faces were astonished by the fact, one staring at Harry until he caught her eye. He smiled sheepishly at the fact, nodding a few times to confirm with what Jack had been saying before he turned his head to notice someone coming from one of the tents in their small camp.

Her hair was long and untouched, small braids still placed in her hair as she placed sunglasses over her eyes. The night before was a bit too rough on them; Harry was aware that the second day usually felt worse than the first. He couldn’t seem to turn his head away as he watched her diligently try to unscrew the top of her water bottle, almost as if her muscles had turned to mush.

Harry took it upon himself to move towards her, taking himself out of the conversation before she saw him coming.

“Need some help with that?” He offered. His own hand holding a beer as Charli held out her bottle towards him with a small grunt.

“I don’t know how you’re drinking that without gagging.” Her voice was rough, hoarse, as she cleared her throat.

Charli took a seat under the small pavilion that their group had set up; her seat now in a foldable chair as she slinked into it. The large t-shirt covering her chest and her pajama shorts that resembled boxers were nicely matched with the tall, rain boots that she had been wearing around their small camp as the dust and dirt seemed to be kicked up.

Harry took the water bottle from her hand, holding his beer against his chest as he multitasked to unscrew the top lid.

“I didn’t take any shots of lemonade vodka, and I drank a bunch of water before bed. That might have helped a bit.” Harry smiled at her; his eyes not being able to relay the affection that they may have had behind the dark sunglasses on his face. The backwards hat sat on head while the bandana around his neck helped to shield the morning sun.

He didn’t want to stare; he knew that his sunglasses had been blocking the obvious, though.

“You look good for someone who’s probably one sip of water shy of dying, I have to say.” Harry shrugged, watching as she took a few sips from the bottle he had opened for her. The look on her face showed a bit of thankfulness of him obviously giving her some pity.

“I don’t think that sleeping in tents is necessarily my thing,” Charli shook her head, knowingly hating camping to an obvious degree, but wanting to find herself in these experiences that pushed her boundaries.

That was the whole reason that she was here in the first place. Charli was always the little sister that wanted to keep up; she wanted to do everything that Jack did, and she knew that she could if he would just let her participate. When this summer festival came around, Charli asked her friend Rena to book a ticket to come with her—knowing that Jack and Harry would say no to it.

Harry and Jack went to festivals all year—they frequented this one in Spain every year and had become quite close with a bunch of other people who had traveled in for it. But this time, Charli wanted to just insert herself into the situation so neither of them could deny her entry, or her company.

Jack and Charli were close, but that did not mean that he wanted to watch her dance around at a festival and get herself into trouble. Neither did Harry, really.

But something had changed a bit. Harry hadn’t seen Charli in a year or so. He hadn’t spoken to her or hung out with her enough to notice the changes in her personality, her being, her looks. She was older now; she wasn’t the little teenage sister that tried to slip into the car every time they would head to the mall or to grab a bite to eat.

She was always beautiful, there was no denying that. But Harry found himself blushing at her remarks, stopping himself from staring at the way clothes hung off her body, and tried to deny himself from watching as she danced with her friend while trying to entertain the other men standing behind them.

Charli had always just been Jack’s little sister.

Sometime between the lines, it had taken a turn, though. Harry had looked at Charli one day and noticed that her eyes struck a match, his heart started to race a bit faster than usual, his eyes stared to wander, his palms became a bit sweatier than normal.

Instead, he tried his best to remain subtle—not wanting to say anything different, but just allowing the weekend to go along.

After the awkward teenage years when they would go on family holiday’s, Harry would always think Charli was quite funny—she was witty and dry with her humor, but it always intrigued him to some degree. And she had always been very good at Pictionary, which Harry found hilarious.

Now, it was different. Now, Harry found himself staring longer, harder. But it must’ve just been the heat, he thought.

“You look like shit,” Jack had mentioned, coming from behind Harry as he looked at his little sister, “Festival already got the best of you lot already, hm?”

When Charli had approached Jack to wanting to go to this festival in Spain, Jack and Harry had already made plans with their friends to go. Jack, being her older brother, had shown some apprehension considering he knew that Charli and Rena had never done anything like this before. They were freshly in university, a few years younger than Harry and Jack.

“Don’t be fucking annoying,” Charli said to Jack, rubbing her forehead, “We’re just hungover—it’s nothing unusual and we aren’t used to the bit of heat all the time. We’ll be okay.”

Harry’s lip turned up on the side, but his attention as brought back to Jack who hit him on the chest.

“What was that for?” Harry asked, a bit taken back by the action as he rubbed the site where he had been hit.

“Mate, you totally walked away from those two birds, left me in the dust,” Jack turned his head to try and locate them, craning his neck, “The blonde was totally into you. They were having a kickback before heading back into the grounds tonight.”

Harry focused on the beer in his hands, finishing the first one of the days before he threw it over to the small pile of garbage that they had started to collect.

“Dunno—not super interested,” Harry shrugged, but Jack gave him a strong look of disapproval.

“Not interested? In what? You not interested?” The confusion was taking over him as the three of them sat in the small, confined area. Harry poked his tongue into his cheek before he tried to think of how to get Jack to stop talking.

He didn’t care that Charli would hear how Jack talked about him—surely, she could figure out his habits on her own, but he didn’t necessarily want them repeated. Of course they had had fun at festivals in the past. But there was a small amount of embarrassment that sat on his chest as he felt the judgement pour off from Charli’s facial expression.

“It’s like, a girl’s rite of passage to hook up with you at a festival once.” Jack chuckled, grabbing his own beer from the fridge before popping open the cap, looking over at Charli. “Better keep Rena away from him tonight or he may go mad with the wandering hands.”

Charli smirked at the comment, “I’m not keeping anyone away from anyone else. Maybe she wants someone’s wandering hands.”

Jack chuckled at the comment, Harry rolled his eyes with the smile steady on his face.

The three of them sat around, making themselves a few sandwiches for breakfast—Harry brought bagels for them to share. They sat in a circle, eating and talking about the day ahead of them. The heat hadn’t really started to become an issue; it was quite nice in the shade unless you were in the direct sunlight.

The day took them into night—getting ready in their tents, while simultaneously letting the party get started. Jack and Charli were significantly more into drinking than Harry was; he kept a steady buzz with the beers that he had brought, but he let general buzz of the alcohol mixed perfectly with the contentment of the weed, too.

Jack had always made fun of Harry in the best way because he always knew how to have the best time, making sure that everyone else was having the best time around him. It was a rare kind of person who knew his own limits but was able to let the people surrounding him in on the most significant adventure of a lifetime.

Harry didn’t add much to what he was wearing except a bandana around his neck to keep the dust low. His sunglasses hung from his shirt, the backwards hat shieled his neck from the hot afternoon sun. The Adidas sneakers were dusty and worn, his shorts and t-shirt were moderately hot from the dark colors that absorbed the heat.

But it was when Charli and Rena came out of their tent that his eyes tried their best to look away—failing miserably, he knew.

Her perfectly sun-kissed skin with patches of redness that he just knew would burn to the touch with spots of freckles that accompanied, the dark curls that cascaded down her back with micro-braids that were misplaced, her top was practically irrelevant as it hung from her shoulders and tied around her back with just a simple string.

It was all that it took for him not to combust. He tried to remind himself: it’s Charli. Something about that sentiment stopped working like it had before.

The group was a bit larger now; there were many more people around to involve and take his attention. He watched as Charli and Rena had found the attention that both had been looking for. A few different guys who looked more their age had started to make their way around them. Charli and Rena took a few shots, their energy had increased drastically with a mid-day nap and some blush to help elevate themselves.

When they started to move their way towards the stages and grounds, Harry had packed himself what he needed in his pockets—a few joints, a baggie with other worldly possibilities, and a lighter. Everything he could have needed.

The bass pounded relentlessly, a constant thrum that seemed to reverberate in Harry’s chest, matching the wild, erratic beat of his heart. The music festival was a sensory overload—lights that dazzled, bodies that pressed in from all sides, and a heady mix of sweat, alcohol, and something else altogether more intoxicating the longer he stood and watched. It was almost as if he had been placed into another world; his brain would have convinced him, otherwise.

Charli.

She moved like a force of nature through the crowd, her every step drawing his gaze, every laugh tightening the coil of desire in his chest.

She was supposed to be off-limits, a hard line he’d promised himself never to cross. But tonight, with the flashing lights painting her skin in shades of electric blue and purple from the neon lights that threatened him with desire, Harry could barely remember why.

It wasn’t just the way she looked, although that was enough to drive any man to the edge. Her outfit—a slinky, black top paired with high-waisted micro-shorts—revealed just enough to set his imagination on fire yet left enough to keep him burning. It was the way she moved, all easy confidence, as if she knew exactly the effect she had on him, and maybe she did. The sway of her hips, the way her curls bounced with each step.

It was all fun and games until her eyes sought him out in the crowd—it all added to the tightrope tension between them that he hadn’t been sure was there before.

He shouldn’t be here, standing this close to her, watching her with hungry eyes while pretending that he didn’t want to touch her, taste her. But here he was, and there she was, her presence overwhelming every shred of common sense he had left.

She caught him staring—again—and shot him a look over her shoulder that made his pulse skip. Harry wasn’t sure that she had been looking at him, either. He wasn’t sure if he was misreading the signs; maybe she was just looking past him.

But that smile, playful and knowing, was his undoing. It was like she could see right through him, could tell that he was a hairsbreadth away from losing all control that he had. And maybe she liked it, liked knowing she had him wrapped around her little finger.

When she slipped through the crowd, it was like slow-motion. She was turning her head just enough to signal him to follow, and he didn’t hesitate in the slightest bit. It was almost an innate reaction to her; she walked, he followed. His feet moved of their own accord, pushing past bodies until he was right behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. She led him away from the main stage to a more secluded spot where the music was a distant pulse, and the crowd thinned out. The darkness here was thicker, the lights softer, casting long shadows.

Charli stopped abruptly, turning to face him, and he nearly collided with her. The sudden proximity knocked the breath out of him. Her chest brushed against his as she looked up at him through her lashes, eyes dark and inviting.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she teased, her voice soft but laced with something that made his blood run hot. “Something on your mind?”

“More than a few things,” Harry replied, his voice rough, strained. Her scent was everywhere, a mix of something sweet and sharp, mingling with the night air, making it hard to think about anything other than how close she was. He could reach out, just a little, and—

No. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

But then she tilted her head, and that damned smile returned, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “Like what?” she asked, her tone daring him to say it, to cross that line they both knew was there.

He clenched his fists, shoving them deep into his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her. Instead, he pulled out the joint he’d rolled earlier, holding it between them as a distraction, a lifeline.

“Like this,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Want some?”

Charli’s eyes flicked down to the joint, then back up to him, and the look in them was nothing short of wicked.

“Sure,” she murmured, stepping even closer, until there was no space left between them. Her fingers brushed against his as she took the joint from his hand, the contact sending a jolt of electricity straight through him.

He watched, mesmerized, as she brought it to her lips. Her eyes glanced up at him with few blinks before Harry’s hand cuffed around the spliff to light it as it sat between her lips.

The motion was slow, deliberate, and his gaze was locked on her mouth, on the way her lips wrapped around the end of the joint, the way she inhaled deeply, then exhaled a plume of smoke that curled in the cool night air. Her eyes never left his, and there was something in them, something hot and dangerous, that made his pulse quicken.

When she passed the joint back to him, their fingers lingered, the touch just a little too long to be accidental. Harry took it, barely feeling it between his fingers, all his senses focused on the heat of her body so close to his. He took a drag, more out of necessity than desire, needing something to calm the riot of emotions inside him. But it didn’t help. If anything, it made the world spin faster, the edges of his control fraying with each second that passed.

“Having a good time so far?” Harry asked her, watching as she waited for him to pass it back to her. When he did, she took it gratefully and took another puff herself.

“Definitely. I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I think. So much going on, the music just—you can feel it in your bones. You can really—yeah, I don’t know, I just feel really, really good.” Her voice was sharp, but it had a bit of slurring to it. He knew that the dehydration and overall adrenaline would send her into overdrive if she kept up the pace of her habits. He took the joint away from her this time, wanting to keep her from overdoing it.

It was obvious—the way that she moved closer to him when he would take another step back. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, but he had watched her take only a few drinks before getting here tonight. It was obvious that they were getting high on something stronger than any of the substances combined.

Harry cleared his throat, letting their eyes linger on one another for a long moment—much longer than he had anticipated, but when her lips parted for a moment, he shifted on his feet.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured, not entirely sure if he was talking about the joint or the way they were practically pressed up against each other, the space between them crackling with unspoken tension.

Charli took a step closer, closing whatever distance was left between them. Her body was almost flush against his now, her breath warm against his neck as she leaned in. “Doing what?” she whispered, her voice so soft, so innocent, and yet so full of intent that it made his head swim.

“You know this is just some infatuated fantasy shit, right?” Harry’s voice was low, “Your signals—your messages. You don’t want to mess around with me, Char.”

He went to place the joint between her lips again; his fingers lingered at her lips as she gratefully took the end. The color of her lips was the softest baby pink he had ever seen, a color so intimidating and intriguing.

“I think you’re writing me off because you think you know me,” Charli shook her head as she held the joint between her fingers, blowing out the smoke, “But I think you’re a bit scared. And I’m very intrigued. It’s my first festival, after all.”

Harry scoffed, “Not scared at all, love.”

Charli bit her lip, knowing the implications of the way that his eyes would gravitate towards where her teeth held her lip. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip softly, watching him stare at every single tiny movement that she could benefit from his view.

“So full of shit,” She half-whispered, shaking her head, “Can’t keep your eyes off of me, you really think you could keep your hands off if you got the opportunity?”

Harry’s eyes raised at her words, his tongue pushing into his cheek as he lifted his hand to take a large draw of the spliff between his fingers. The smile on his face was significant as he practically chuckled at her words.

“You think I’m scared to put my hands on you?” Harry shook his head, feeling the pity as he stepped close to her. The small space that they had created here in the back of the lot had become theirs as he stared into her eyes. “I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started. This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—me and you. That’s why it’s not happening.”

Charli’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she listened to the words he spoke, practically feeling the overwhelming feeling on her skin just at his words. She tried to keep herself together, but he saw right through it.

It was practically a growl that he let out, hoping that she would back off, “I’d fucking wreck you, Char.”

As quick as he spoke, she took a step forward, “Well, then fucking wreck me.”

Her lips brushed his jaw, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down his spine. Harry’s hand tightened around the joint, the other clenching at his side as he fought to keep control, to not give in to the desire roaring inside him. He stuck his hand in the front of his pocket as he felt his cock twitch just at the hot breath of her so close.

There were a million words in his brain, but they were all nonsense.

“Charli,” he breathed, her name a rough exhale, a plea. He knew he should push her away, should step back, but he couldn’t. His hand moved on its own, slipping around her waist, pulling her closer. “We can’t—”

“Why not?” she challenged, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath hot and teasing. Her hands moved to his shoulders as she pulled herself against, letting the smell of him infatuate every part of her being. “Please, please, please.”

Her words were a siren’s call, a temptation way too sweet to resist. His resolve, already shaky, crumbled to dust. His grip on her waist tightened, and she responded by pressing even closer, her body fitting perfectly against his.

His mouth hovered over hers, the world narrowing to just the two of them, to the feel of her, the taste of her on the air.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game with me.” He whispered, his voice a hoarse rasp, heavy with the desire he could no longer hide. The sound of the music in the background was just enough to heighten their senses as he practically breathed a moan into her own.

Charli smiled, that same knowing smile, and his heart skipped a beat. Her lips brushing his without another word, the touch so light it was almost a tease, a promise of what could be if he just let go.

The last thread of restraint snapped. Harry’s hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her curls as he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was fire and desperation, a release of all the tension that had been building between them for so long.

If she wanted to be wrecked, so be it.

Charli responded in a way that surprised him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. She tasted like smoke and something sweeter, something that made him dizzier than he had felt in a while. The thump of the bass had disintegrated into a memory, the sounds of the stranger around them had begun to dismiss, the only thing that mattered was the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her soft moan against his lips as he devoured his only saving grace.

He kissed her harder, deeper, pouring everything he’d been holding back into that one searing kiss. Her hands roamed over his back, her nails digging into his skin through his shirt, sending a thrill through him. He wanted more, needed more, and the way she clung to him told him she felt the same.

But then, just as he was about to lose himself completely in her, a shout rang out from somewhere behind them, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. The sound shattered the moment, and they broke apart, breathless, their hearts pounding in unison as Harry practically pushed her away from him.

“Charli!”

Rena’s voice had come from behind Harry, neither of them laying an eye on her until they had moved apart, and Harry’s back turned towards her. They hadn’t known how much she had seen, but it seemed like her cognizance had been long gone as she stumbled her way over to her friend.

“Hi, Harry,” Rena had seemed to forget Charli was there for a moment as she gave Harry attention first, her hand making its way to his bicep as she tried to steady herself. She moved her attention back to Charli, “I met someone who can hook us up, but I don’t know—like how much are you willing to pay? And like, he seems nice.”

Harry’s attention moved back to the conversation before his eyes narrowed gently at their predicament. He bit his lip just at the way that it didn’t sit right with him.

“I mean, a good amount, I guess. Nothing crazy. What’s he have?” Charli asked, almost like she had forgotten what had happened moments ago.

“He didn’t really say—I don’t think he’s given specifics, but I think we just want to tell him what we want to feel, and he can give it out.”

Harry shook his head, as he leaned down between them. “I know it’s your first time doing shit like this, but don’t fucking buy drugs from a random dude at a festival. That’s a way to get you offed. Unless he can prove his inventory, just don’t waste your time. Stick with the psilocybin’s and X.”

Rena and Charli looked back at him, before he shrugged.

“We have a hundred in cash,” She pressed, “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not just sitting on weed and beer, Harry. You and Jack go to festivals all the time—I’m not an idiot. Help us get something.”

Harry took a sip of the bottle, humming to himself before he shook his head at the thought. Turning to face her, he noticed the depth of her blue eyes that captured his breath for a moment.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to help my friend’s little sister roll like that,” He shook his head, “Especially if something happens to you. Not taking that chance.”

The words of implication felt odd as he spoke to them, the truth feeling a bit overwhelming before he watched Charli bite her lip and lift her eyes to him.

“Don’t let anything happen to me, then,” She bit her lip again, as if knowing that was the game to be played. Rena watched the interaction, but it wasn’t clear if she was taking anything into memory, “Do it with us, if you’re so worried about us.”

Rena rolled her eyes at the interaction, “C’mon, Char. He’s not going to help. I’m going to go ask for more details, I’ll meet you back here, yeah?”

Charli bit her lip as she crossed her arm; she nodded a few times as she watched her friend move back towards another guy that was behind Harry—one of the ones that they had talked to earlier. There was a group of a few guys and girls that seemed to be the same age, and possibly the same curiosity as them with these types of experiences.

She turned back to Harry, a bit disappointed by his lack of help and coddling of her.

“I’m definitely not doing it with you��that’s dangerous if you’ve never tripped before,” He told her firmly, giving her an answer she may have been looking for. Biting the inside of his cheek, he decided to question her a bit more, “But how do you want to feel?”

Charli took a moment to think, crossing her arms as she shrugged, almost like she didn’t know how to respond to his request. She wasn’t prepared for him to answer her that way; there was so much that she didn’t know, but she didn’t want him to read from her, in hopes that he may breakdown and help her out.

“I want to feel light—I want to feel careless and out of body. I want to feel a heavenly touch, almost,” She tried to think, “A pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like, bringing me to tears type of euphoria.”

It was almost like she had described exactly what he had wanted to do for her for years, but her innocent face hadn’t caught onto it yet. His smirk wasn’t hidden as he turned away from her, pulling the bottle to his lips as he shook his head with a blush on his cheeks.

“Well, shit, Char,” He answered with a bit of shyness, “You don’t need drugs for that, you know.”

Her recognition had caught on, breathing out of her nose just a bit before she covered her face with her hand.

“That’s what everyone seems to say, but I guess I’m not having the same type of experiences they are.”

Harry bit hard on the inside of his cheek, practically drawing blood as he looked down at the ground. A race of thoughts entered through his brain, pacing back and forth at the thought of how much he couldn’t stand to be next to her now—he couldn’t think now if he wanted to. He hummed again, in recognition of her statement before he ran his thumb over his lip to try to keep himself busy for a moment.

“I’ll help you out, but only under one condition,” He told her; moving to face her, even though he knew that was not a clever idea. He knew as soon as he turned to look at her that he wanted to look away.

She nodded in agreement; he lifted his eyes from her lips.

“You can’t leave my sight,” He nodded, “Understand?”

Charli nodded again, almost like she was in a trance to nod and do whatever he said. “Uh-huh.”

His heart skipped a beat as he felt the sensational pulse through his blood, down into his stomach and all extremities before he let a soft, troubling few words leave through his lips.

“Good girl. Let’s go back to camp, then. I may have something for you both.”

Charli felt a pang in her chest at the way that his words were reactive to her; each detail struggling to make sense within her as they stood together for a moment before he nodded his head for her to follow him back. The walk was only ten or so minutes. It gave Charli a few moments to grasp the sobriety a bit; it was what Harry had expected before they made their way back to the tent area that still had quite a few people around.

That was the culture; that was the essence of it all. The darkness had small bits of light around to maneuver their respective campsites, laughter and partying continued far into the evening. It was only around midnight now before Harry had reached his tent. He opened the zipper, pressing into the space that he had been sharing with Jack before he invited Charli inside.

There was a lantern inside that he flicked on before he found a seat on the small mattress pad, he had laid down, but knew didn’t make too much of a difference.

“I’m only giving them to you, by the way,” Harry told her before searching through a backpack he had stored behind his pillow. “I can’t keep track of both of you. She’s also much more drunk than you, which is dangerous.”

Charli sat on Jack’s side of the tent before she watched Harry pull out a small saran-wrapped baggie that held a spoonful or so of white powder that was tied together; Charli eyed him for a moment before he dug to the bottom of his backpack before he shrugged and went back to the small bag and another bag nestled in his shorts pocket.

“This is what I’ve got—looks like a little snow, some tabs. Kind of mixed together, but that’s what I’ve got.”

Maybe it was showing the innocence in her, but Charli felt a range of curiosity mixed with nerves as she looked at what Harry was offering. His eyes searched her face as she cleared her throat, reaching for the small bag.

“Do you—I mean, you know how much to take? I just—I mean, I just want to try. But I don’t… you know more than I do.” She trailed off, which led Harry to smiling at her for a moment. He crawled over to where she sat, sitting next to her then on the small blanket and mattress pad.

“This is going to make everything bright—you’ll get the smallest dose, just enough for it to be good. It’s only good every so often, doing this stuff everyday wears off the pure adrenaline which is really the good part about it. Taking a bump makes everything better, it’s why it’s so addicting.”

Charli held the baggie, using her fingers to unwrap it before she looked back at him. “Give me a bump, then.”

In the most oddly intimate manner that he could think, he felt the tension and significant rush bend through his veins as he watched the way that her eyes followed his hands before he was able to add a bit of the chalky white powder the end of his pinky that was coated in a blue nail polish.

Harry extended his hand towards her, his pinky finger gently poised near her lips.

“Just breathe it in. You’re safe.”

She scoffed with a hint of a laugh, “I thought I was playing a dangerous game.”

Harry’s eyes felt heavy as he tried to ignore her flirtation. “Smartass.”

The proximity of his hand, with its subtle warmth, seemed to magnify the anticipation between them. Charli leaned in, her breath mingling with his, her lips brushing lightly against his finger as she inhaled the bump of coke from his fingers and feeling the effect almost immediately.

The burn, the tingle, the numbness that was in her nasal passage drove her head to loll back for a moment.

As she took in the powder, her eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat, and then slowly opened, revealing a glimmer of surprise and pleasure. The change in her expression was subtle but unmistakable; a softening of her features, a slight arching of her brows as if discovering a new dimension of sensation.

Harry watched her intently, his gaze never wavering away from her as she studied the way that she discovered pleasure. He could see the moment the effects began to take hold—a delicate flush spreading across her cheeks, a slow, satisfied smile curving her lips. Her eyes, once wide with anticipation, now seemed to shimmer with a new, heightened awareness after several moments of silence.

“How does it feel?” he asked softly, his voice a tender caress as he leaned in closer, the space between them shrinking.

Charli’s lips parted in a slow, blissful exhale.

“It’s… like everything’s just glowing now,” she said, her voice carrying a dreamy, almost hushed quality. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against his, and he could feel the gentle tremor of her touch, a tactile confirmation of the high she was starting to experience for the first time. “You’re really going to let me at this alone?”

Harry swallowed harshly, letting his lips part as he thought about all the reasons he shouldn’t join in her fun. But as he watched her pupils dilate, he blinked a few times to remember the way that the blue sapphires disappeared just like that in front of him.

Charli shut her eyes softly as she hummed before moving to lay on the space that held her brother’s blanket. She laid down on her back, Harry’s eyes gravitating towards the pull of her tits before they settled a bit more upwards. He leaned his arms against his legs as she sat on the ground and watched her start to feel the threat of the pleasure eat away at her.

“We should get back out there, hm?” Harry piped up, his words almost barely heard before her watched her head move up from the lolled position, opening her eyes. “You have to find Rena.”

There was a moment of silence before she sat up on her elbows, her eyes gazing at him heavily before she let her fingers draw over a part of her stomach that were visible from the shirt’s complete openness. Harry’s eyes were focused in—it had been a trap all along, he noticed as he watched her smile with complete satisfaction.

“Should we?” She questioned, “I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to leave your sight,” She paused for a moment, sitting up completely. Her body practically touching his as she let her hand move to dance along the tattoo on his skin. “And I’m all yours now.”

Harry shut his eyes as he moved his head to the other side; trying to take in any breath that didn’t have her scent lingering within it—but that was merely impossible at this point. He shifted his hips as he sat, trying his best to overcome the initial feeling of this infatuation with her. It had never been this way before.

“Fucking tease.” He swallowed heavily as he licked over his lips.

There was a noise that Harry heard, a whimper of sorts when he stayed put. He tried to keep his eyes closed, but he felt her presence heavier the longer that he sat.

“Just once? Please?” Her voice a mere whisper, but a fixture in his memory now.

“No, Charli—that’s taking advantage of you.” Harry tried once again; he couldn’t physically move, but he just had to keep saying no, no, no. One of these times, that wouldn’t be good enough for him. He knew that one of these times she asked, he would flip. He couldn’t contain himself for that long, surely not if she continued down this path.

Charli blinked slowly, she leaned her chin on his shoulder as she sat perpendicular to him, her mouth hot against his neck. “Fucking gentleman shit. Stop making me beg, Harry, it’s not nice of you. I’m really not against begging, you know?”

Harry sensed the danger in this game—his adrenaline living for this type of interaction as he practically chewed through his bottom lip. He swallowed, letting his dry throat be a reminder of how he felt in the moment. He shut his eyes softly again before he watched Charli reach for the small baggie. His eyes narrowing as she had practically memorized his movement, picking up a small amount on the nail of her pinky before looking at him with the dazed, blown eyes that were starting to hypnotize him.

“C’mon, please,” She asked again, softly, “It’ll be fun, we don’t even have to leave the tent.”

He felt himself tense at her words—knowing full well that they could do dangerous things just in this small vicinity. He would ravish her; make her cry out in pleasure so trembling that he wasn’t sure it was for his eyes, or not. Harry became quite a monster in all the best senses when his senses were heightened—he wasn’t sure that he would be able to hold himself back again.

It was one thing when it would be one-and-done; this was Charli, after all. He would never be able to stop thinking about the pleasures and soft whimpers and rushing feelings of nirvana that would overcome him with her wrapped around him.

But what would be so bad about that?

He turned his head to the left, looking at her for a moment before he put his finger up to his nose, closing a nostril before sniffing in the white powder on her nail, letting it coat his nose and every inch of his last bit of sanity. The head rush made him breathe out in a gasp before he stared up at the ceiling. The numbness in his throat, the adrenaline rush that went straight to through his limbs and into his chest.

“Fuck,” He stated clearly, letting himself sit for a moment before the high took over. Staring at her under the influence became a greater, much more euphoric feat as he turned to see Charli smiling at him with a face of triumph.

The world outside the tent seemed to fade into a distant hum as Harry and Charli sat cross-legged on the crumpled blankets. The warm buzz of the coke coursed through Harry's veins, amplifying every sensation, every sound, every breath Charli took in the small area. The tent was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the lantern they’d placed at the entrance. It cast a golden hue over Charli’s face, making her skin look impossibly smooth, her eyes dark and endless as her dark curls laid around her face.

Charli leaned back on her elbows, her gaze fixed on Harry with a mix of amusement and something else he couldn’t quite place. She bit her lip, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that sent a jolt through Harry's chest. He was hyper-aware of everything—of the way her top had slipped slightly off one shoulder of how her breath was just a little unsteady, matching his own.

“This stuff’s intense,” Charli murmured, her voice soft but carrying a weight that made Harry’s pulse quicken.

“Yeah, it really is,” he replied, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. His eyes flicked down to her lips, then back to her eyes. The air between them felt charged, thick with anticipation and a tension that couldn’t be fooled.

A slow smile spread across Charli’s face, and she tilted her head, studying him like she was seeing him for the first time. “You’re different here, you know that?” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Not the same Harry I see with Jack.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, but it may have been the mixture of substances. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Charli shrugged, her smile deepening. “You’re… less shy. More fun.”

Harry laughed softly, the sound coming out shaky. “I guess this place brings it out of me.”

Charli’s smile faltered for just a moment, her eyes searching his. “Or maybe it’s just us,” she said quietly. “In this world.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, and Harry felt a thrill run through him. Charli sat up slowly, closing the space between them until he could feel the heat radiating from her body. Her knee brushed against his thigh, and it was like an electric shock. He was suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was, how he could smell the faint traces of her perfume, mixed with the sharp scent of sweat and something sweet.

“I’ve always liked that about you,” Charli said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “How you’re different. How you make me feel different. You’ve always been so nice to me, you know? So… pleasing.”

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Charli…”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Her touch was light, almost tentative, but it was enough to break the dam.

In one swift motion, Charli leaned in, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both fierce and hungry. Harry’s mind went blank, every thought drowned out by the sensation of her mouth on his, the taste of her, the feel of her body pressing against his. He responded instinctively, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, grew more frantic. It was a deepened state of mind that brought him back to reality as he pulled away for a moment to breathe and regroup his thoughts.

Harry grabbed the bandana around his neck, pulling it off before he moved to the front of the tent. Charli’s eyes narrowed as she watched him begin to leave, her mind not meeting her words that she wanted to speak out. Instead, she watched as he wrapped the bandana around the zipper of the tent, letting it hand off the outside before he zipped it up fully.

“So Jack knows I’m in here with someone,” He told her, “Our secret, though, yeah? You and me?”

Charli nodded a few times before they had reattached to one another again. Harry reached out to grab the back of her head, pulling her lips to him in a quick, rushing moment. They were pressed to each other, the messy top lip kiss elated a whimper from Charli before she sat up on her knees, pushing back against Harry to try and get him to lay down so that she could take the control she craved.

He resisted, letting his hand grab at her waist before letting her climb into his lap as a fair compromise. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hair falling over their kiss as she allowed her tongue to travel over his plumped bottom lip. It was a feeling greater than pleasure; one of great heights that she would never be able to pinpoint except in this moment.

“You’re a needy little minx, aren’t you?” Harry grabbed onto her waist, the bares skin only being covered by the string that held her top up. “Coming onto your brother’s friend, such a needy, sly little fox. Wouldn’t have ever thought it.”

His hands felt the small of her back before she pulled back to get a glimpse of the way that his eyes dilated to the largest, dark circles of abyss, staring at her with a want so great that she wasn’t sure she’d ever find again.

She didn’t know which substance was talking but she seemingly found either to be mesmerizing.

“God,” She breathed out, pushing his hair back—his head pushing back as she kissed along the base of his neck. Her hips pressed into his, pushing up on his stomach as she pressed against the length of his body. “Wasn’t going to fuck just anyone this weekend, you know,” She breathed, “Love getting what I want.”

Harry scoffed at her answer, pulling her back before he let her hands rest against his shoulders. His eyes flew down to the way that her top dropped in the front. His hands reached behind her to grab the tie, pulling at it hastily before the top practically fell apart in his hands. The way that his eyes glided over her perfectly settled tits was mesmerizing; her left one holding a small, silver piercing that caught his attention like a hawk.

As she sat in his lip, her chest at eye level, Harry stared up at her for a moment before she squirmed in anticipation. Harry licked his lips softly before spitting gently onto her hardened nipple, watching as the dribble slid down the curve of her skin. Her heart practically stopped at the stalemate interaction, waiting for him to touch her.

The heaviness of her breath took his breath away— watching her chest inflate, deflate, settle. His cock hardened underneath her, her hips moving and feeling the reaction before a bit of surprise crossed her face.

“You’ve gotten me worked up all weekend, you know that?” He told her roughly, his throat hoarse but telling her simply, “Not going to go lightly on you—I’m going to fuck you into oblivion, and you’re going to take every inch, every moment, every word of it. You understand me?”

His thumb reached out to rub over the darkened, hard nipple that had sat untouched. Her reaction was visceral. The heat of the tent was starting to get to her already but couldn’t breathe at the thought of what was to come.

“Mhm,” She nodded, curtly, “Yes, sir—fuck, yes, please.”

The nickname sparked an electricity below his belt before he pushed her from him and onto the small, padded area of the tent that he had been sleeping on. Her world flipped as she stared now at the ceiling; the small light of the lantern by the door was the only amount of light. His hips pushed into hers as they melted into one another.

It didn’t take him anytime at all before he pulled down the shorts that sat on her body—they weren’t covering much, but they were enough of a barrier. The boots she had been wearing came too. His eyes drifted to the jet-black thong that covered little to nothing. The growl in his chest reverberated before he leaned up to kiss her again— messy, the way that his mustache tickled her lip was a certain kind of pain.

She wasn’t sure what was his needs and what was the drugs that were heightening every inch of her sense. She felt her body trembling, Harry watched as she shivered, her teeth chattering for a moment before he nodded as if to speak to her without a single word.

“You’ve got it all pent up,” He nodded at her, confirming her want and needs, “It’s going to fucking snap—you’re going to feel like you’re looking at yourself from up above, like you’re levitating almost,” He licked his lips, “I’m going to talk you through it though, don’t you worry.”

His hands moved to her hips, pulling them up as he played with the edges of the small thong that barely created space between them. Harry pulled himself up to leave a few more kisses on her mouth, notably feeling the want and need of her tongue pressing past his lips for more intensity—more feeling as she responded to his touch.

“Do you hear that?” She asked him, breaking their touch and kiss as he stared down at her for a moment. His eyes heavy on hers as she stared at him with a million sparkles in her eyes—the sparkling dust filling around her orbiting pupils.

“The music?” He asked, unsure. But when he watched her shake her head, he narrowed his eyebrows.

“That sound—it’s a buzzing, it’s uh, it’s like, it’s rushing—the ocean,” She shook her head, shutting her eyes. “It’s—”

Harry lifted his hand brushing her cheek softly before he looked between her eyes. Licking his lips, he nodded in acknowledgment.

“That’s the blood in your veins you’re hearing. Sounds like the rushing of water, every time your heart beats.” He explained, as if it was logical.

Charli took in a breath, “It’s addicting—that sound.”

Harry let his hand drift further down, down, down. Stopping at the small string of her thong, pulling at it.

“Let me make the sound louder, hm?” He sat up just a bit, giving him room to pull the underwear down her legs. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he watched them turn menacing, the devilish pleasure kingdom heating between her thighs.

It took everything in him not to drop his eyes—he’d never get the sight out of his memory once he did. Her laying there in complete submission to him—wanting his touch more than the security of never doing anything about it.

Her knees bent upwards, her hand resting on her stomach before she teased the idea of going further on her own. His eyes flickered, catching sight before he breathed outwards. The world turned upside down, eating away at him as pulled at the cotton tee that rested on his back, letting the clothes make a puddle next to them.

“You going to show me how you like it, then?” He teased, letting his lips settle between her breasts, giving a small kiss before moving down a few inches. The kisses were hard, pulling at her skin the way he knew she wanted.

“I’ve never felt like this,” She told him honestly, arching her back.

“Need me, then, do you?” He asks, sitting up a bit before kissing the top of her knee. His hand ran itself down the length of her torso, watching every movement of it. It was like a trail, a road. Every divot, every freckle, every small wrinkle of her skin.

“So bad.” She gasped out before he let his fingers move down her body further. The moment he touched her, they both gasped at the undeniable feeling of longing—the collection of wetness that coated his fingers, the warmth of her being.

Harry watched every moment, every movement. His lips parted, watching as she quickly settled, finding her grounding once he pressed one finger deep into her. The way that she opened for him wasn’t a coincidence; she had been waiting for this moment for so long, he could feel every inch of her holding onto his soul.

“God, more,” She begged, her hands moved into her hair as she arched into the feeling. “More—fuck.”

In that moment, he felt like an other-worldly being, giving her everything that she could have asked for. Anything he did would pleasure her; it was a superiority that couldn’t believe he had in his touch, but he smirked at her desperation.

“More?” He confirmed, letting his middle finger slide in right in place, before he curved them, “Like that?”

A mewl left between her lips as she huffed a breath. It was a bit loud; he could process that as soon as it happened, the noise going straight below his shorts before he leapt up to grip at her chin.

“Shh,” He told her, “Knew you’d be loud, but we gotta’ keep it to us, hm? Just right here.” His mouth leaned down, hot breath along her lips as he held his arm up right next to her head.

Charli felt like her body had melted onto the floor and completely dispersed in a million directions. The lightness that she felt, the warmth that her body harbored while still having a chill to her skin. Each movement, each touch, each breath—it came into her mind like the brightest sunshine.

His fingers moved in a synchronization with her heartbeat as she felt the easiness that came with pleasing her. He pressed on her lower abdomen when he pressed in, which elicit her back to arch against the ground. It was a rapid movement, but more of a flick to his wrist like a painter would say practice makes perfect.

Harry’s eyes moved down to the perfectly pink tone of her clit, aching and drenched with pleasure as he let his thumb rub over it. Her own wetness creating the perfect glide of his fingers as he bit back at the filth of his thoughts. He had so much to say and would hold it back from scaring her off.

The soft whimper of her created a symphony between them; one rock of her hips too many would set him off, he was certain.

“Don’t be scared of it, c’mon,” He pushed his fingers in to the knuckle, letting them beckon with the motion, letting them sit for a moment before his thumb rubbed over her swollen clit—the blood rushing through her system as he nodded at her. “You can fucking do it, Char, fucking soak me, huh?”

Her back arched in anticipation of the rush, pressing her hips into his touch further as the overwhelming and unjustifiable sense of pleasure carried her upwards into the heavens. The sound she made was sinful, the way that her eyes rolled back. Every inch of the detail was harbored by the darkness around them, but Harry felt that he could see through it—watching it as brightly as he could.

There was a small gush of her orgasm that made her body shiver with adrenaline as it soaked her inner thighs, the muscles in her legs contracting and shaking as she pulled them together. She breathed out a whimpered moan before grabbing onto his forearm to elicit the message that she was simply overworked by the feeling.

Harry breathed heavily, watching her wrecked laying in the middle of the bed he had made—simply lying in it. Her chest pulsed upwards as she had her eyes shut; he knew, even in his high, that he needed to give her a minute before they imploded. He didn’t want to make her heart rate skyrocket, so he settled on giving himself the pleasure of bringing his fingers towards his lips, letting his tongue dance over the wetness of them.

“So, so fucking delicious.” He stated under his breathe, watching as she writhed under him. Her eyes now wide open, watching him taste her on his fingers as she mewls with need. It’s filthy—it’s nothing she’s ever witnessed; a man devouring a woman in this way. She knew it would be like this with him, which turned her on more than she could imagine.

“Going to wet my cock like that too, hm?” He asked, coaxing her. “Going to prove yourself to me?”

Her face was flushed, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. It took him a moment, the words leaving his lips were enough to push her over the edge once again. He pressed his hands into her hips to steady her, giving her a sense of grounding. His high made his head dizzy with greed; his thoughts danced with a flourishing wave of desire.

“You have to stay with me, Charli,” He told her gently, “Let me hear your pretty words. You want me?”

Charli had tears in her eyes, a push of absolute certainty flooded through her as she sat up in a haste to let her hands move through his hair. Her lips found his again, letting her taste herself against his lips—his tongue was warm with her.

“Mm, those aren’t words,” He murmured against her. “But I’ll take it as a yes.”

“I’m just speechless,” She giggled out, “Sorry.”

It was chaos; the mascara smudged on her bottom lash line that created a darkened effect. It was revelry; the waning moon of her pupils as they settled back into a faded darkness.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Harry echoed out his thoughts into the air as he let his thumb press into her bottom lip. He grabbed onto it, letting her smirk take over as she only harbored the horniness further from the way he degraded and lifted her in such bliss. “So, so fucking pretty. Could wreck every inch of your pretty cunt.”

“Let me play the game,” Her voice shrouded innocence, letting her hair fall into her face before he pushed it back. Her mind was running a million miles a minute, but her movements were slow, her erraticism and need for him ate away at her.

In an instant, she was pushing at his chest, moving him back so that he could rest on his hands. She wanted to pull on his shorts, let them both then lay together. The sweat that had sheened over their bodies both had created a humidity within the tent as they continued to find air to breathe, focusing on themselves.

Charli’s hands had pulled the shorts down his hips, practically not even giving attention to the stiff cock that laid against him—ready for her at any moment. Their lips intertwined again; he had missed the sweetness, knowing that it was such a part of their collective. She sighed against him, loving the feeling of his facial hair against her skin—the rough pleasure of it.

Harry laid, his back arching from the hardness of the ground, his hands on her hips as she moved to straddle him. Charli placed her shaking hand around his length, pumping him a few times, eyeing it for a moment before the sensual want of her eyes caught his. Harry bit his lip at the way that she looked; her disguise of innocence was just that.

Her head leaned down, a gentle lick under the head of his cock just to set his skin ablaze. Her eyes matched his, the eye contact far too superior. His eyes watched the hunger that captivated her, each moment longer than the next as she rested her weight on his chest before she lifted herself to sink down onto him instead.

The control he didn’t have was obvious now; he gripped onto the flesh of her hips, jaw tight. His eyes shut as he tried to come to terms with the already built feeling that settled within him. It had built up to an indecent amount, and his mind was blurring with thoughts that continue to poke and prod.

It was quick—an instant, really. No thoughts, no inhibitions, just surrender and want.

“God, fuck,” He cursed, letting her settle as her torso seemed to go for miles, he looked up. “You’re so fucking wet. Christ.”

Charli lolled her head back at the feeling of him, her hips moving back and forth just to grab onto the tension that was building. Her hair fell onto her back as she let out a breath, her hands resting on his chest to hold herself up as Harry watched her practically rub herself onto him.

His eyes wandered up her chest, watching as she arched her back to pull herself towards him. Harry’s hands landed on her ass, spreading her apart as he bucked his hips into her, his length poking in and out of her enough to create a guttural response in the back of her throat.

Harry lifted his fingers to grab at the back of her neck, pulling her head forward. His thumb pressed gently into her lips as they pouted outwards, letting his fingers coat themselves in the wetness of her bottom lip. Their hips rocked together; he grabbed her ass, pulling her upwards before he slammed his hips into her.

It was fun—it was one of the most diabolical moments he could remember, considering he knew that they could be caught at any moment in the most compromising of positions. He bit his lip to stifle the smile that pushed on his face as Charli looked down towards him, biting her own lip with ease.

“You are such fucking trouble,” Harry’s tongue was hot all the sudden, “Going to be the end of me.”

Charli hummed, laying forward to let her lips crash against Harry’s once against, a sea of teeth and scrapes as she let her nose rest against his for a moment.

“Been trying to tell you for years,” She breathed out while keeping their rocking motion of thrusts, their in-sync motions letting her breath heighten, “Too stubborn.”

“Bullshit,” Harry moved her hips against him, looking up at her, “You haven’t shown a bit of interest in me.”

Charli threw her hair to the other side of her head, letting her lips move down to the base of Harry’s jaw to suck gently—he lifted his head a bit to let her work.

“You’re clueless, then,” She chuckled under her breath, “I always wanted you to be my first kiss, you know. I had the biggest crush on you.”

The slight ping of vulnerability that hits the air lets Harry’s eyes flicker back to her; his hands roaming the fleshiness of her hips, fingernails scraping against her skin, details of her touch were kept in his mind.

“Had?”

They seem to be the only words that Harry can muster out before he watches her blush, pulling her head down into his neck as they both moan in unison from the way that she pulls up, moving down a bit more forcefully.

“Shit, you can’t keep doing that—” Harry starts to warn before she does it again, eliciting a reaction as he holds onto her waist so she can’t move any further. Charli can’t help it though, she’s pushing herself back at the feeling, knowing the one that she’s chasing is enough to give herself another orgasm.

She pushes back again a few more times—Harry’s inhibitions and self-control have formally flung out of the air; he’s never felt more obliterated and unwell. Focusing on her for a moment, he shakes his head as he recognizes that he’s not at all in the right headspace. The powder usually calms him and gives him more self-control, but something about this feels different.

Something about her.

“Fuck, fuck—I’m gonna,” He pulled her hips up, lifting her from him before ribbons of cum were left on her lower tummy and thigh, and his stomach as he held his length to finish himself off. “Fuck.”

It was a senseless act, knowing that their response time had already been stunted from the high that they were on top of the world with. His muscles contracted heavily, watching as she held herself up, straddling his lap around the mess that coated both. It’s a moment of silence, a bit of regret at the now messy situation that has them both sitting for a moment with shaky breaths and uncontrollable heart rates.

“Oh, god,” He breaths, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

His eyes feel like they’re moving a mile a minute, trying to settle as they look at Charli on top of him. She’s bent over now, laying on top of him with their chests intertwined.

“Let me,” He offers, pushing her up a bit. He grabs the shirt he had been wearing, wiping it along himself, and her.

A few passes with the fabric, he throws it to the other side of the tent. At this point, his body feels like it’s become quite exhausted—it may have been dehydration, it may have been the high that had been wearing off. Harry licks over his lips as he feels Charli move from his body and down to his side. His arm reaches to grab the blanket that they had both been laying on top of, now moving it over their bodies as he felt her shivering next to him.

The high had been wearing off; her eyes shut and heavy as she laid on her side away from him. Her body tangled itself into the blankets, forming a cocoon of sorts to lay comfortably against him.

“Stay?” Her words were almost a question; one that he wasn’t sure was for him, or a confirmation from her that she would be. Instead, he pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, shielding her body that was out in the open. His breath inhaled her scent, nose nudging at her shoulder before he nodded.

“Stay.” He confirmed.

Harry clenched his jaw as he shut his eyes; the sleep that was impending came sooner than expected for the both of them.

When Harry opened his eyes next, the light from the tent had been bursting in. The heat of the fabric had given his skin a sheen of sweat as he pulled the blanket from his chest. The way that his head pounded was a stark recollection of the previous night and the person he had wished most to see when he turned over.

But the space next to him was empty—the tent was empty.

He sat up, horrified by the way that he felt—knowing that he shouldn’t have participated in the coke with Charli, but knowing that what came out of it was stuck in his memory for the rest of his life. He wondered if she regret it; walking away from him without waking up next to him felt like something someone with regret would do.

Harry pulled his shorts on, as he hadn’t redressed the night prior. Crawling towards the zipped-up door, he opened it, finding himself squinting at the bright lights that had been trying to make their way through the fabric of the tent.

The pavilion was covered, and the familiar voices spoke outwardly with familiarity.

“Well, look who it is.” Jack’s words echoed out as Harry approached the small circle then. The small circle was the two people that he had not wanted to explicitly talk to right away. “Crazy night, huh? Couldn’t even come back to my tent, you must’ve been going all night. Lucky lady.”

He noticed Charli sitting there, her legs pulled up to her chest, wearing a large t-shirt and shorts that were most definitely men’s boxers. He swallowed hard, not wanting to take a closer look but being almost completely certain that they were his.

Their eyes met for a moment; Charli lifted her hand to bite the skin around her thumb to keep herself from asserting any type of notion that either of them had a clue about what Jack had been talking about.

Instead, Harry nodded simply.

“Yeah, something like that.” His pulse threatened to burst at the thought of her; at the thought of them. “Yeah—I, uh, think that’s the first time that won’t be a one-time thing.”

Charli’s interest piqued, her eyes focusing on him for a moment before Jack hit his shoulder, chuckling out softly before he shook his head.

“She must’ve stolen your heart for you to say something like that.” Jack exclaimed, taking a bite of his breakfast, offering Harry a plate before he took it willingly. Charli, sitting there trying to mind her own had a simple smile on her face, trying her best to not give away any details of the previous night.

But her mind took her back to falling asleep next to him; the quiet snores, the softness of his skin, the warmth of his embrace. She tucked some hair that had been falling out of her ponytail, biting her lip as she sniffled softly.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded a few times, the smile encapsulating his face, “Something like that.”

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koolaidoverwriting · 4 months ago

Note

Hii! Could I request some general dating head canons for Toby?

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Ticci Toby, Gender Neutral Reader

A little late, sorry! I did include the waffles joke. I will never exclude the waffles joke.

CW: It's All Fluff, He's Socially Awkward and Cute, Mentions of Childhood Abuse

TICCI TOBY

Toby was born into a life of violence; he's been exposed to it, been a victim of it, and he's committed it himself. You, along with his colleagues, are an escape from the raw and harrowing reality of his life. You are the person he holds at night, whispering to you how you make him better — how you two complete each other.

He vows to never treat you like his father treated his mother. He wants to keep you happy and satisfied, doing everything he can to provide you support But, he's insecure about the relationship and will often ask you for reassurance.

He's overly affectionate. Toby will want to spend a lot of time with you. You go on a date at least once a week — even if it's something small like watching a movie together in the living room. He's also real touchy, holding your hand whenever he can, caressing your skin just to feel your warmth, and giving you small kisses over your body that make you all bubbly.

There's gonna be some biting involved between you two. Playful little nips on your collar. Toby sees biting as a form of love, but he'll stop if you ask him to. He just likes hearing your flustered laughs.

Sharing clothes is a huge yes. Toby thinks you look adorable wearing his t–shirt or hoodie. In the winter time, he'll be sure to pass you his coat — even if you're already wearing one; he wants you to be warm! "My goggles look so funny on you!" he jokes all the time.

If you make him waffles for breakfast (or for any meal, really), he'll be overjoyed. He has his own waffle–maker collection and will absolutely look at waffle–makers on Amazon with you.

Toby got hurt a lot. He couldn't feel the pain, so he often joked about it. Now that he's with you, and he's seen how worried you get, he's started to take care of himself more. Toby's new–found self preservation is shocking to the other proxies, but to you it's sweet.

Toby likes playing with fire. Hell, he'd have the greatest time committing arson with you if it wouldn't endanger your life. On cozy nights, you may go to the backyard, start a bonfire and burn random stuff. He claims the stuff was found in the cellar; but you've definitely seen these items in Jeff's bedroom... Maybe that's why they have such a rivalry.

Toby's gallery has an album dedicated to you. Pictures of you he's taken; the selfies you've sent to him; pictures of you two. Toby loves it all! He's the type to spam your messages with compliments after you send a picture of yourself.

!!! toby having a waffle–maker collection is such a funny idea to me and only me i am so sorry guys. i love him though. fun guy. i definitely think he's a jokester type too. always cracking puns and joking about him getting hurt when it's not funny at all... then apologising when he sees your concern.

#requests #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #tobias erin rogers #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta headcanon

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seresinhangmanjake · 8 months ago

Text

Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)

Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.

You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.

While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you?

You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.

Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.

Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.

Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you.

His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth.

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.

“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”

You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.

“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life.

“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”

Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.

“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”

Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”

Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”

“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, because you’d do anything for him.

“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.

A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #cod ghost #johnny soap mactavish

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badnoahmens · 1 year ago

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You’re Mine

Noah Sebastian x Reader

3.6k words.

A/N: jealous Noah has me feeling strong feelings. Smutty shit so 18+ only. Wrote this instead of working on higher priority WIPs.

You twist the handle for the hot water off, steam being the only thing that filled the small shower around you now. After the long day you had, a nice, hot shower was the only thing that seemed to help take the edge off. With a sigh, you step from the warmth surrounding you, reaching for the towel and swiftly tucking in the side to preserve your modesty.

As you exit from the bathroom, you swipe meaninglessly through your phone, scrolling through photos posted from friends and the odd targeted advertisement. With a small ding a new notification graces the top of your screen. An old friend of yours, Patrick, that you had kept in touch with throughout the years, had recently reached out and was sending memes he thought you would like. Seeing as the two of you had similar jobs, they were mostly focused on that. Innocent enough, but it wasn’t worth looking at now.

Without taking much notice of your surroundings, you walk between the bathroom and into the kitchen in search of a snack to quell your cravings. Noah was leaning on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, elbows propping up with one hand curled into a fist under his chin, the other scrolling through something on his phone. His eyes were slightly glazed over, a side effect of the doom scrolling that he often fell into. You side-eye him as you walk past, pulling an unimpressed face as you responsibly reach for an apple.

The bite you take makes a loud crunch that is the only sound that breaks the silence in the room. The chewing that follows is equally as loud and disturbing, echoing as an irritating wet, mushy slurp. You kept your eyes on Noah as you took a second loud bite from the apple, knowing full well he loathes the sound.

Another scroll with his thumb flashes bright colours and fast-moving videos on his phone, still unaware of your presence.

A third bite of the apple, this one finally earning a reaction. His head slowly turns, pivoting on the hand that he still has balancing under his chin, his eyes landing on you as you take a fourth, menacingly slow and obnoxiously loud bite.

And then it is a stare-down. You refuse to let up, keeping a blank expression on your face as you grind down, meticulously masticating the organic surgery fruit. Noah squinted his eyes, knowing full well that it was your intention to bother him. He clicks his phone so the screen locks, and places it gently on the counter.

“Alright! That’s it!” he finally calls as you lift the apple, almost gone now, to your mouth dramatically slowly for another bite, although you never get to take it. Noah stands and strides over to you, snatching the apple from your hands, tossing it into the bin that sat in the corner of the room. It was immediately after that you were tossed over his shoulder, flailing in a panic. He turned on his heels and speed-walks to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as the pace he held wasn’t one that was all that graceful. He was laughing maniacally at your feeble attempts to squirm from his grasp. You would never tell him that you weren’t actually trying.

With a jostle and a thud, he dumps you on your back, the soft mattress bouncing below you. You fight playfully, trying your best to catch Noah’s fast and nimble hands as they darted in and out, tickling your sides. His smile is palpable, his hair wavering from side to side as he adjusts his plan of attack every time you twist and turn under him. He has his knees pinned by your sides, grey sweats and a black t-shirt lingering over you as his colourful, decorated arms and neck looked ever so enticing. You couldn't help but notice the way that his pants twitched as he continued to hold you pinned down on the bed.

In a sudden change of heart, his hands stop, grasping your wrists and holding them above your head in one of his hands. He drops his face so that it is an inch from yours. His breath wafted over your face and you smiled, glancing between his intense gaze and watching the way he licked his lips.

“How was your shower? Did it fix your bad day?” He asked. His head tilted to the side slightly. The question sounded innocent enough, right?

“I’m still a little tense,” you reply. And you were honest with your response. It was a long day. When you arrived home, your bags were quickly dumped on the floor by the door haphazardly, a huff leaving you in an attempt to exult some of the emotion that had pent up all day. Working with kids was difficult on a normal day, but there must have been something in the air today for them to be as wild as they were. Noah knew you were in a less-than-ideal mood. Bless his soul, he did try and help, but the best thing you could do was to wash the day away. Now, even after a shower, the aftereffects of a bad day were still lingering despite being only towel-clad underneath your boyfriend.

“Turn over” he motions with his head, releasing your hands from his vice grip allowing you to lay on your stomach instead. In the midst of this motion, he tweaks his fingers under the top of where your towel sat, tugging at the tuck that held it secure. You had a sharp inhale as the cold air hit your bare skin, still warm and slightly damp from your shower.

You heard Noah hum behind you and you glance over your shoulder back at him, but he doesn't see your face. Instead, his eyes are trailing down your body, pupils dilating when he sets his sight on your ass.

Noah was an ass man for sure. And he was obsessed with yours. He would always be so handsy with you, the odd playful slap here and there, tucking his hand into your back pocket to cop a feel when he probably shouldn't be, even his favourite sex positions were the ones where it was front and centre in his view.

You tucked your hands under your chin, still twisting so that you could see Noah in your peripherals. His hands started to glide over your back, down your sides, following the sweet contours of your body. Noah let out a low growl from deep within, but you’re certain he wasn’t aware of half the noises he was making; the deep breaths, slight gasps and quiet moans.

Using all of his restraint, Noah tears his gaze from your ass and lifts his body so that he is kneeling over you, hands now placed on your shoulders. He could still feel the tension in the knots that had built up over time, forming firm ridges across your shoulders and back. Tattooed digits started to knead into the tender muscles twisting under your skin. The pressure mixed with the slow circles made you close your eyes and let out an involuntary moan. Noah hummed and smiled to himself, knowing the power this had over you. You were such a sucker for massages, and could never deny having Noah;s hands all over your body.

He continued to try his best to break down the clusters of tension, twisting and rubbing at the bundles that had gathered over a long time. Your head would roll from one side to the other, allowing Noah to work into different areas and use different pressures to make some kind of difference. Noah would be lying if he said he didn’t love it too. Having his hands all over you? Making you feel good? Knowing full well that this often led to something far more exciting? Yes please.

It was at this moment, as you were about to be lost to Noah’s touch and oblivious to the world, when your phone dinged again. Lifting it up to your face, another notification from your old friend lit up the phone that was strewn carelessly on the bed next to you.

Noah’s hands stopped.

“Who’s Patrick’?” Noah asks, the slighted hint annoyance in this voice. You readjusted your position so you could see Noah’s face, his expression blank. You tried to wriggle so you could twist from under him, but his legs tensed and squeezed you so you were stuck, completely at his mercy.

“He’s an old friend. Has a similar job. Been sending me some memes about work. He sent me one earlier but I didn’t respond so he’s probably sending another” you answer.

“Sending you memes, huh? He does this often?” Noah’s leg muscles were still tense beside you as he sat back on his haunches, warm calloused hands now retreating from your body.

“I mean, a little bit. He reached out last week after he started a new job with someone I used to know.” You pause, Noah’s demeanour was changing before your very eyes. Now, he seemed a little standoffish.

Noah makes a “Hmff” noise in response.

“Noah?” He doesn’t respond. “Are you jealous?”

No response again.

“Noah” you call once more.

“You’re seriously moody because I have been talking to an old friend?” You prop your head up on your hands in an effort to get a better view of Noah. Although you could see his face, he had turned to look across the room beyond you, and he seemed perplexed.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. That's totally fine” you say sarcastically, shifting underneath him to slip out from his legs still perched beside you. Before you could free yourself entirely, Noah leaves. He stands and crosses the room, disappearing into your walk-in robe. Sounds of shuffling items then follows.

You twist and sit up, pulling the towel back around you. Your gaze was down at trying to hitch the material back into a safe tuck as you ignored the kerfuffle Noah was making when he walked back into the room.

Just as you are satisfied with the towel adjustments, Noah’s hands are on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. He hovers over you again, but now his eyes were dark and his motions were very intentional.

You go to speak, but Noah shakes his head and stands again, holding a firm grip on your hips so that you swivel to a new angle, diagonal across the bed, and spinning so that you land back onto your stomach, just like before.

Your eyes glance up in front of you and you see what the commotion Noah was making before. A full body-length mirror was now sat up leaning against the wall, allowing for your reflection to stare right back at you. You look up at Noah through your eyelashes in the mirror, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you, trying to figure out the expression Noah has spread all over his face. That is, until it hits. It’s a look of desire.

He proceeds to crawl over you, leaning forward on closed fists so that they land on either side of your head before rising to be on his knees. Illustrated hands that contrast with the towel hitch around your hips, yanking them up fast and forcefully so that your knees fall under you, perching your ass high.

You couldn’t help but have a smirk plastered on your face; Noah on the other hand, still doing his best to hold a poker face. His gaze wanders down, allowing his hands to rub possessively over your cheeks under the fuzzy material. They dance lightly over your hips, then begin the trace lines on the insides of your thighs. You let out a high-pitched whimper as an automatic response. You had no control over what influence Noah had on your body, let alone when you were like this.

Noah’s eyes didn’t leave your face, so you teasingly leant back, pressing your skin closer to him. Your breath started to quicken, hitching in your throat when his nimble fingers flicked at the towel causing it to slip down, exposing your body once again. Noah struggled to keep his composure as he took the sights, expression faltering slightly and his hands moved to your folds immediately feeling the warm wetness on his fingertips.

Your eyes slipped closed, relishing in the lightest of touches that Noah was gracing you with, that was until one hand came down with a hard slap on your ass, and the fingers teasing you were gone.

Your eyes shoot open and your body jolts in reaction, except Noah clamps his hands on your hips and pulls you back closer to him.

“Keep them open” he growls, and you watch the way his mouth twitches as his fingers return to your folds, one hand grabbing a handful of the tender skin of your ass cheek perched up in his direction. You lock eyes in the mirror. “I want you to see who’s you are,” he continued.

Slowly, one finger glides into your pussy. It might not be enough, but it’s something. You rock back in the slightest way, and Noah’s grip tightens on your ass. He gives you a warning glance, before his eyes move to his digit disappearing into your folds. It curls up inside you, like he was beckoning you to come closer. The caressing on your inside walls slowly pumps out, and then in again. A rhythm started to build and he added a second finger.

Starting to feel more full, your eyes begin to close, but you remember the demands before they fully shut. Instead, you peer through half-closed slits and admire the way Noah’s hips were starting to grind against you. There was a mound growing in his pants, grazing against your inner thigh, telling you that he is loving this.

“Does that feel good?” He murmurs from behind you, and his eyes are back on yours in the mirror. You nod and hum in response, sliding a hand back behind you to reach for Noah. He takes your hand, grasps it firmly, and places it on your back. It’s feels unnatural, but not unformatabme. Your fingers intertwine as acts almost like an anchor. For you? For Noah? You’re not sure, maybe even both of you.

“Say my name” he demands.

“N….” You start, and he flicks his wrist, stopping any ability to control your voice. Instead, a moan escapes.

“What was that?” He whispers, twisting his fingers again in the same motion.

“Nooaaahhhhh…” the end of his name escapes your mouth as a sigh, as though it could have very well been your last breath.

Noah’s fingers disappear from inside you, slipping out and bringing with it some of the wetness that is all but dripping from your pussy.

“What do you want?” He asks. But you can’t speak. The emptiness turns into an ache. All you can do is stare at him in the mirror and watch as he slides his fingers into his mouth, letting drips of your own liquids run down his chin. His eyes are blown wide and dark with desire, and he notices the way your legs twitch closer when his tongue graces the space between his two fingers, curling up to clean them of any remnants of you on them.

“I- I want you” you are able to stammer out between the heavy breaths.

He grins a devilish grin and shifts his weight, struggling to jam down his sweats to his thighs with one hand, ignoring his own wet patch of precum that had soaked through the front of them. His hand then lands on the outside of your thigh, in the crease where it meets your hip, as he steadies himself. You can feel the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and then he pauses.

His dark eyes are locked in on yours, looking through his eyelashes, and moving his eyes, slowly rocks his hips forward. The pressure is achingly slow. He is teasing you. Letting you know that he is in control here.

Your free hand grasps at fbe sheets below you, trying in some way to let out the tension that is building. The other hand still intertwined with Noah’s behind you tightens in grip. He gives his own squeeze back, almost as a reassurance. Your mouth falls open and eyebrows twist, anticipation causing you to be entirely out of control if your own body movements. You feel him inside, yet it’s the lack of rhythmic motion that is missing.

Your hips buck forward involuntarily, something deep within you just pleading for more friction between you and Noah, and he picks up on it. He begins to drag his cock out of you, placing his free hand on the inside of your thigh, tapping it with grace as though to say ‘open more’. You do as you’re told, shifting the weight to one leg and the other swings out to make a wide gap between your legs. Noah doesn’t hesitate after that.

His shaft is hammering back into you. In and out like a jackhammer. The fingers of his free hand now sitting dangerously and teasingly close to the tight ring of muscle that sat between your asscheecks. You look at his face in the mirror; a sheen of sweat building over his face after only a minute of fucking, his brows furrowed as he stares intently at the work he is doing on your behind. Nails dig into the tender flesh of your derriere as Noah tilts his head back.

You feel the white hot glow begin to burn inside you. Noah is not taking any chances tonight, his hand leaving yours on your back to tangle with the mess of hair on your head. It was already knotted, but Noah intertwined his fingers with it, tugging with little force to bring your chin up.

Your legs were shaking at this point, and it could have been from the pleasure or the absolute hammering they were receiving. There was a growl from Noah which drowned out the hum of the tv from the other room, but you couldn’t tell what he actually said. The skin on skin slapping sounding even sloppier by the second. He was getting close, he was starting to fumble over his rhythm, but he could see that you just weren’t as close to your release as he was.

His hand leaves the tangle of your messy hair, keeping his eye contact in the mirror, and lands on the underside of your belly. You can feel him pull towards him, another silent instruction. Pushing on your arms, you felt weak. They shivered underneath you and you rose to your elbows, then up on your palms.

“More. Against me” Noah hums through a tight jaw. The pounding from behind you was starting to slow and you knew he couldn’t hold on for much longer.

With the right shift of weight, you right yourself on your knees, feeling the sweaty, warm sensation of Noah’s heaving body on your back. His arm wrapped around your chest, settling with an open palm grasping needily at your breast. He grabbed, twisted and pinched at your nipple, caressing what he could as he tried his best to focus on bringing you closer. And boy, was it working.

The new position gave you a full frontal view of what state you were in. The mirror was a portal to a world of pleasure and sex, and the only ones who lived there were you and Noah. Nothing else around you mattered. Nothing else around you even existed in this moment.

Your eyes clamp shut as the build of your orgasm was teetering at the edge, threatening to unfurl and throw sensations through your body that only Noah could achieve. There was a tightening around your neck, and as your eyes open, he land on Noah’s is tense stare from behind you.

“I said keep them open” he demanded. “I want you to watch you cum. Watch what I can do to you.”

All you can do is nod. He was never this dominant, but he must have been really ticked off. He had a point to prove, and he was delaying his own paradise just to make it know.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours” you whisper.

The hammering of his cock inside you, slamming deep inside of you, paired with the hand that had just dropped to your clit was the magic that brought your orgasm to its peak. There was a flood of heat that washed through you. If it wasn’t for Noah’s arms, you would have collapsed right there in front of him. Your body jerked involuntarily as Noah let you ride out the electricity. His eyes were on your face, watching as you cried out with his name, hands desperately grabbing at his arm twisted around you.

His muscles flexed as he held you up, knowing that you needed him to stay this close, but he couldn’t help but give up the fight of holding back his own orgasm. With a wet jerk of his hips, he slipped from you just in time to let the streams of hot white cum leave him, landing on the lower part of your back. You fall forward, landing with your arms by your face, and let Noah release onto you. You watch as his own eyes close, failing to follow his own rules, and then collapses beside you.

It was minutes before either of you even got your breaths back into a regular pattern. You watch Noah lay on his back, his palm resting on his forehead, and a sex-drunk smile on his face. He turns to look at you, letting out a low chuckle.

“I’d like to see Patrick’s memes beat that.”

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translunaryanimus · 11 days ago

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A Married Couple from the Chlâsle culture displays their outfits The Chlâsle (Beader) culture, also known as the 'central' culture(s) is by far the most widespread culture among Chenesht. Here a married couple, Shêdach [Sheedat] (left) and Mhachâp [Mataap] (right), show off traditional garb for Married Adult Chenesht. Garb is conveniently labeled for our sake. More in depth descriptions below the cut.

Shêdach's Outfit

Shêdach is wearing a Ghelâlcha, a Mhach, a pair of Mhsêlba, and a Nhêdlba. A Ghelâlcha [Gelaalta] directly translates to 'Ghelâ Cover'. Named for its vauge resemblance to the Central Ghelâ when fully unrolled. The Central Ghelâ is a small amphibious quadruped descended from the same common ancestor as Chenesht and populates the waters, sometimes hunted for food. Some Ghelâlcha are patterned specifically to look like the pelt of a Ghelâ, though some find this practice garish and offputting. Shêdach's Ghelâlcha is made of silk, though most are made of a lighter fabric.

A Mhach [Mat] directly translates to 'Cape' or 'Cloak' and is a common item for everyday wear. A Mhach is typically made of hand woven linens crafted from fibers stripped from aquatic plants. On occasion, sturdier fabrics like a canvas weave or even silk are used, but these are typically more expensive as they require more effort and skill. Mhacha are more or less elaborate depending on the occasion, and are frequently decorated with beads along the edge. Shêdach's Mhach beads are in the 'flyfish' (front 3) and 'bloom' (the rest) patterns, and the Mhach itself is clasped with an airjelly beaded pin.

Mhsêlba [Mseelba] directly translates to 'Tie Pants'. Mhsêlba are typically simple and unpatterned as they spend most of their time hidden beneath the Mhach. They're similarly made of linens or silks and are tied with either a flat ribbon or braided chord to keep them out of the swamp below. When untied, Mhsêlba reach the ankle.

Nhêdlba [Needlba] directly translates to 'Tie Shirt'. Nhêdlba are much the same case as Mhsêlba, spending most of their time hidden beneath the Mhach. Patterned Nhêdlba are more popular among unmarried adults and teens. Nhêdlba are tied around the waist with a flat ribbon or braided chord and fall just above the tail when untied. Their hems are typically tucked inside the Mhsêlba.

Shêdach comes from a wealthy family, and so he owns more items made from expensive fabrics and items with more beads/more complex beaded patterns.

Mhachâp's Outfit

Mhachâp is wearing a Mhachlcha, a Mhachnhâl, a Nhêddhan, and a Shochlba over a pair of Mhsêlba. They also carry a Ppamh.

Mhachlcha [Matlka] directly translates to 'Cape Cover', named for its resemblance to the common Mhach. The Mhachlcha is comprised of two parts, a tighter headwrap typically made of linen or silk, and a translucent mesh or sheer linen covering pinned to the headwrap with a decorative fastening. Mhachâp's Mhachlcha is pinned with one of her shed rhamphotheca casings from their canines. The casing was filled, capped, and fired to preserve it and make it sturdier before being used as a fastener. It's decorated with tentacle patterned bead strands.

Mhachnhâl [Matnaal] directly translates to 'split cape/cloak' or 'slit cape/cloak' and is a variation on the more traditionam Mhach. Mhachâp's Mhachnhâl is decorated with 'vine' pattern beads and is tied up under her arm that rests on her Ppamh.

Nhêddhan [Needan] directly translates to 'wrap shirt'. Traditionally a Nhêddhan is one large piece of unpatterned linen or silk wrapped around the torso and arms and pinned at the side, hence its name, though more modern cuts of Nhêddhan appear more like the t-shirts of earth. Patterned Nhêddhan are more common among unmarried adults and teens. Mhachâp wears a modern linen Nhêddhan.

Shochlba [Shotlba] directly translates to 'tie skirt'. A Shochlba is typically a split piece of patterned linen tucked into the tied waistband of a pair of Mhsêlba then draped over them, as demonstrated by Mhachâp. Schochlbâ are much longer than expected, and some worn for parties or fancy events drag along the floor. These, understandably, are only worn to places in which a dry floor is present.

Ppamh [Ppam] directly translates to 'stick', but is more commonly translated as 'staff' or 'cane'. A Ppamh is a simple mobility aid for Chenesht, typically constructed of varnished wood and held together with silk threads. Ppamha typically come in two parts, a base and an extension. The extension is used for when the ground is unstable or squishy, and accounts for the Ppamh sinking slightly into the soil. The extension can also be used to adjust for height and is especially useful for teenage chenesht. Ppamh are sized to a Chenesht's comfortable bipedal stance.

Mhachâp comes from a middle class family and considers their Ppamh to be their 'highest quality' item due to the time and care taken to craft it to her proportions. She needs her Ppamh for weakness and chronic pain in her back legs.

Grammar note, 'a' is appended as a suffix to denote multiple. In words that already end with a, it's changed to â. So Mhach -> Mhacha, Ppamh -> Ppamha, Shochlba -> Shochlbâ, etc.

#arte #worldbuilding #setting: sacred estuaries #SE chenesht #SE chlâsle #mhachâp #shêdach #speculative biology #speculative fiction #xenobiology #specbio #original alien species #original alien character #conlang

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kamaluhkhan · 1 year ago

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in my head, i play a supercut of us

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.

a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)

you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)

now — summer, age 18

driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming.

it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.

your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too.

it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s.

you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open.

"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!"

"four summers can do that," you note.

you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug.

"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?"

"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season."

you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.

"possibly," laurel sighs.

"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun."

the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack.

belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs.

"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours."

"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"

you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.

"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.

"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there."

with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking.

"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?"

susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.

instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.

"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well?

it was almost too much.

tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.

“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.

“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”

“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”

“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:

“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah.

"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”

“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”

“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”

you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.

“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”

your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”

you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.

when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.

after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad.

"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.

you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.

“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”

“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.”

stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.

“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.

steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing.

"yeah, well, i’m here.”

jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”

“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”

"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.

you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting.

"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.

"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote."

“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."

then — summer, age 11

you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.

it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good.

"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat.

"no way, man. it's freezing."

you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach.

"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.

"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."

"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare.

"i'm good," conrad snapped.

"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.

"i'm not scared —"

"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him.

"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed.

"yeah, but if connie —"

"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.

"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.

conrad smiled at you softly. "right."

reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.

"ready?"

conrad nodded once. "ready."

hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind.

now

jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize.

"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet."

jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly.

"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"

the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer.

"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive.

you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay.

"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.

"like i said: intense," you answer cooly.

"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating.

"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"

jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer.

"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.

who the fuck is nicole?

nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.

the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too.

jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension.

"never have i ever gotten a tattoo."

you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink.

"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes.

"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage.

the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other.

"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.

you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach."

the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.

then — summer, age 13

"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose.

"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.

"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)

that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.

"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically.

years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course).

during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach.

the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming.

you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm.

"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word).

even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone.

"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked.

"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.

"i'll stay with you," conrad said.

belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together.

"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?"

conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"

you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs."

conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!"

you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.

"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."

"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it.

"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."

you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.

"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."

"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.

"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.

"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."

being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats?

conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks."

you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was.

"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.

"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."

you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other."

you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.

now

you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.

the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.

you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.

conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink.

“morning,” he whispers.

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply.

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.

“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs.

conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”

“i thought you loved football.”

“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”

you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports.

“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.

conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant.

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well.

“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.

“do what?”

conrad scoffs. “be jealous.”

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

#conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher angst #if you can't tell i am very very excited about this series!!#saf writes

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