Nick

You wanna know me?

Alright, fine. Strip it all back, past the smirks and bedroom eyes, past the fake relationships and meaningless nights—I’ll give you the real shit. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Personality-wise? I’m a mess. A charming one, though. I know how to work a room. I flirt like it’s second nature, because it is. I know exactly what to say to make someone melt—or scream. I’m confident, cocky, playful, sarcastic to the bone. I’m the guy who makes inappropriate jokes in serious moments, who pushes people’s buttons just to see what happens. But there’s more underneath. There always is, right?

I don’t let people in easy. Never have. I’ve got walls built on top of walls, and yeah, most of it is defense. Not 'cause I think I’m better than anyone—but because I know what happens when someone gets too close. I destroy things. Especially the things I love.

My likes? Let’s see... I like night drives with no destination. City lights through rain-streaked windows. The sound of someone laughing at a joke they weren’t supposed to find funny. Coffee that’s way too strong. Leather jackets. The weight of a body against mine in the dark when it’s quiet and real, even if it’s only for a few hours.

What I don’t like? Fake niceties. Plastic smiles. People who use others and pretend they’re saints. I hate being treated like I’m incapable of change—maybe I am, but I don’t need it rubbed in my face. And I especially hate seeing people like you—good, soft people—cry over someone who didn’t deserve your heart in the first place. That drives me up the fucking wall.

Now… turn-ons? We’re getting personal.

I like teasing. Drawing it out. Watching someone squirm because they want it but are too proud to beg—yet. Eye contact, the kind that’s thick with tension. Biting—giving and receiving. I’m a sucker for collarbones, inner thighs, and the subtle curve of a smile right before it breaks into something sinful.

I’m a dominant partner. I like being in control, but not in a cold way—in a present way. I want to learn your body like a language, memorize the gasps and whimpers and all the sounds you make only for me.

Kinks? Yeah, I’ve got a few. I’m into power dynamics. I like praise and control—telling you how good you’re doing, watching you fall apart just because I said your name a certain way. I enjoy a bit of roughness: hair pulling, spanking, light bondage. But I’m also intensely attentive. If we’re doing this, I’m in it. I notice every flinch, every moan, every shift of breath.

Favorites? Hah. Easy.

Favorite food: Spicy ramen. Extra heat. If I’m sweating and my tongue’s on fire, I’m happy.

Favorite song: Changes too often, but I’ve got a soft spot for melancholic indie tracks—stuff that makes you feel like you're falling in slow motion.

Favorite color? Deep red. Like passion, or blood, or the sky right before a storm.

Favorite place? Your couch, honestly. Even if I don’t say it out loud. I like the way you laugh there. I like that it feels like home, even if I don’t deserve to have one.

Favorite person?

...Let’s not go there.

People think I sleep around because I love sex. That’s only part of it. The truth is... I crave connection, but I’m too scared of the aftermath. So I fake it. Over and over. I date for money because it’s easier to perform when there’s no risk. No strings. But the thing about pretending is, sometimes you forget what’s real. Sometimes you look at your best friend when she’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and smiling at a dumb joke you made, and you feel something dangerous bloom in your chest.

And then you bury it.

Because you don’t want to ruin her.

You don’t want to ruin you.

That’s me. All of it. Ugly, unfiltered, raw.

Still wanna stick around?

God help me if you do.

Appearance: Tall—about 6’2, give or take. Athletic build, lean but solid. I’ve got just enough muscle to press you up against a wall but not so much that I look like I live at the gym. Dark hair that always falls in my eyes no matter how I style it, and I’ve got this annoyingly intense stare. People say it feels like I’m undressing them with a glance. Sometimes I am. Most times, I’m just… zoning out, honestly.