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sugarcoatedstarkey · 6 months

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Drunken mess

Pairing - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary - sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend.

Warnings - unprotected sex, cheating, hair pulling, fem receiving oral/fingering, choking. (18+)

A/n- just a little thank you for 5k, thank you to anon for the prompt/idea.

The music was loud, vibrating against the soles of your shoes that bounced against the hardwood floor. The disco ball spun above you, the light ricocheting of the walls, smoke filled the air and your lungs. Your best friend was dancing wildly in front of you, your back pressed to some girl who’s hands held you tightly by the waist, your best friend moved closer and placed her hands on your shoulders. The three of you moved in sync, you could feel the eyes of the others around you.

Some looked on in disgust but most looked on in lust, especially Rafe. He knew his eyes should be on his girlfriend, your best friend. But he found them wandering to you, letting his eyes roam your body. He had to readjust himself multiple times at the sight of your thick ass pressed tightly to someone’s body, he had the urge to replace her with himself but he knew that would cause a shit fight.

“You're looking at the wrong girl” Topper tutted, his own eyes drank in your outfit. Neither of the boys could keep their eyes off you, the way your tight black dress hugged every curve of your smooth body. “She’s so fucking hot!”.

Rafe nods in agreement, he can’t find the words to say. He’s so obsessed with you right now, he can’t look away. He’s imagining the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you would moan his name when he filled your tight cunt with his cock. “I gotta ask her to dance” Topper states, Rafes hand is quick to grasp his wrist. Pulling him back down onto the couch, with one look Topper nods understanding you had been marked, even if he already had a girlfriend. No one was to touch Rafe Cameron’s girl.

Your best friend pulls away, holding her hand to her mouth. Eyes wide she darts out of the crowd, you follow closely behind. You find yourself in the bathroom holding her hair back as she throws her insides up into a ceramic bowl. “I feel like shit”.

You let out a laugh and grab a cloth, running it under the cold water you bring it over to your best friend and dab her face. “Let’s get you to bed yeah?” She nods and lets you walk her out of the bathroom and down a hall, moments later you're tucking her into Rafes bed and heading back to the party.

Your back on the dance floor, throwing back your drink and getting back into the music. You don’t take notice when a body stands behind you, strong hands pulling you close. You're used to people dancing on you, with you. You didn’t mind the attention, you just liked to dance and let loose. “You look so fucking sexy”.

Your heart skips a beat and you're quick to put the voice to the face, his breath is hot on the tip of your ear. You know you should pull away but you let him flatten his palm to your stomach, helping you move your hips against his. “Do you know how fucking hard it’s been for me to watch you and not touch you?”.

You shake your head, his hands brush down the length of your arms. Lacing his fingers with yours only to pull them up and around his neck, the angle gives him a nice view down your dress. His cock hardens even more within his shorts, he presses himself tighter against you. You can feel him between your ass cheeks, subconsciously you bend just slightly. “Naughty girl” he groans, holding tightly onto your waist. He slips one hand up the length of your stomach and palms your breast over your dress, a soft moan slips from your lips. “You like me touching you?”

“Please Rafe… I like it” your voice is too quiet over the sound of the music but your body is answering his question. Your hands slip from his neck, bending over even more and placing your hands to your knees.

He clenches his jaw, he could slip his cock out and fuck you right here, infront of everyone. Give them a real good show, let them see your heavy tits bounce as he pounds you on the dance floor. “So desperate for me sweet girl” he chuckles, his fingers lock around your hair and pull you up straight, a sharp sting runs down the back of your neck. He presses your body against his own. He begins walking you out of the dance floor, only a few eyes on the two of you. Topper watches on in jealousy, imagining himself behind you instead. “Ella is in your room” you find yourself saying as he walks the two of you down the hall you had been down not too long ago, his chuckle is deep and it vibrates against your back. “”Did you hear-”

“I heard you”

He opens the door to his room and pushes you inside, your eyes falling to your best friend who’s passed out in the bed. The dim light from the lamp in the corner casts a shadow of the two of you over her sleeping frame.

You turn quickly but meet his chest, he grips your jaw tightly and your eyes widen at the harshness. “You want to be a slut and let me touch you on the dance floor… well you can be a good little slut and let me fuck you next to your best friend”.

You grip his wrist and pull, he chuckles again and pushes you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and you use all your strength in your calves to stop yourself from falling onto the mattress.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

Your mind is racing, you’ve wanted to fuck Rafe since you met him. You’ve always wanted to be in your best friend's shoes, you wanted Rafe for yourself. But you let her have him because she called dibs first. “Answer me”

“Yes… I’ll be a good girl”

“That’s what I thought”

His lips are on yours before you can change your mind, his tongue slipping between your open mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, he tastes the way you expect him to. Whiskey and cigarettes, it’s intoxicating. You can’t get enough of him, he also can’t get enough of you. His hands are roaming your body, squeezing and kneading the flesh of your hips. In one swift movement he yanks the top of your dress down, your breasts spill out in an almost slow motion movement. “So fucking perfect”.

He grabs a handful and kneads, pinching and rubbing your hardened nipple between his fingers. Your back arches pushing your chest closer to him, his mouth envelopes your nipple. “Oh fuck”.

Your legs turn to jelly and your bum hits the mattress, your body frozen as your best friend turns in her sleep. Rafe doesn’t let up his assaults on your tits, his face buried between the two. Your heart is racing, scared she will wake up and catch the two of you. “Don’t worry about her… look at me”.

You turn your head, he slips his shirt over his head. Your fingers are running down the length of his stomach, staring at his hard pecs. “Like what you see?”

“So much.. I like it so fucking much”

His palm meets your throat and he pulls up from the bed, mouth on yours. You pull your dress down along with your panties, he pulls away from your lips but keeps hold of your throat, he takes a long hard look at your body.

“Shit… I knew I should have fucked you when I met you”

He drops his hand from your throat and steps back, unzipping his shorts as his eyes roam your body. You're not sure where this new found confidence comes from, you're pushing the thought of your best friend to the back of your mind. Stepping over you sit on the ottoman at the end of the bed, scootching back just enough. “What are you doing?” He questions, he’s standing naked and proud in front of you. Watching every movement you make, his cock is hard and bobbing as he steps towards you. “Touch me”.

You part your knees dropping your legs wide, his eyes zone in on your wet pussy. “Fucking hell”.

He can’t believe the sight in front of him, he’s sure he’s died and gone to heaven. Your pussy is perfect, arousal leaks from your tight hole. He drops to his knees in front of you when you reach down and spread your lips for him, his hand gripping your wrist before you can push a finger in. “Your going to fucking kill me”.

He’s breathing in the scent of your cunt, pressing the palms of his hands to the back of your thighs and pushing them to your chest. Your breasts pressed tightly against your legs, both holes staring him in the face. You clench when he flattens his tongue out and runs it up the length of your pussy. “Holy fucking… SHIT!” You cry out, head thrown back as he devours your pussy. He’s sucking hard on your clit, pushing two of his large fingers inside of your hole. “Oh god Rafe.. so fucking good.. yes oh yes just like that!”

He pushes in a third finger, spreading you wide for him. Your arousal coats his lips and hands, it's everywhere, you're making such a mess on him. His cock is throbbing, pre cum stains the floor, his fingers are pounding in and out of you with such force your back hits the mattress and causes your best friend to stir again. “Yes yes oh yes harder.. fuck! Rafe I need your cock.. please please give me your cock” your begging, tears are spilling from your eyes. “Such a needy little slut… can’t be patient can you”

“No no I can’t Rafe, please… I need you”

With one swift moment he’s pulling you down onto his cock, he’s stretching you wide. An almost burning sensation hits you but is quickly swept away with the rough thrust of his hips. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings you up to the bed, your eyes meeting your best friends closed ones. “Look at me”

His hips thrust deep and hard, your brain feels like it’s floating in water “I said look at me!”

He grabs your chin and pulls your head, you stare up at him as he fucks you into the mattress. You reach up to hold onto his shoulder blades “fuck Rafe… you feel so good”.

“That’s it sweet girl… taking my cock so well. Your pussy is mine. Do you understand me? Mine… your mine.”

“I’m yours Rafe”

“That’s right… fucking your best friends boyfriend hmm, how are you gonna tell her? How are you gonna tell her I only want this pussy and not hers”

The bed shakes under you, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest. He pulls out of you and spins you around, nudging his knee between your legs. You lean down on your elbows and push your bum out for him, he slips back inside of you. “Should we wake her?”

You shake your head, biting down on your lip as he slips into you. His heavy balls hitting against your sensitive clit, he leans over you slightly leaving kisses on your back. “Go on… moan my name into her ear. Wake her up”

Again you shake your head, his fingers pull at your hair until your back meets his chest, one hand palms your breast while the other toys with your clit. “Come on baby girl… I can feel your sweet little cunt clenching around me.. you close?”

“Mhmm”

Your cock drunk, arousal soaks your inner thighs and the bed. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room and your gobsmacked it hasn’t woken her up yet, you can’t hold onto your moans anymore. He’s pounding your sweet post so hard you're sure you’ll squirt. “Fuck your doing so well.. a little louder”.

Your toes are curling, body sweating, the familiar white spots appear in your vision. The butterflies in your belly are fighting hard, you are squeezing so tight around him he pushes you back down onto the bed.

Pressing the side of your face into the mattress as you cum around him. Your screams and moans are muffled by the duvet, your body shakes as he chases his relief. He’s quick to pull out of you and cum on your ass, clenching your hips as he jerks the last of his cum out.

Your body trembles as your orgasm begins to fade and the realization of what just happened settles in, you notice your hand is holding onto your best friend's leg and she still hasn’t woken. “What the fuck did I just do”.

🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @maybankslover @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @sierraluvzz @sunny1616 @tiera-0604 @spookyscaryspoon @slvttedoutmars @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @exhaustedbutrelated @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @loopylemonpops @oceandriveab

(It seems I can’t tag some people and I think it’s because I’m posting from my phone. Sorry)

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kaciidubs · 1 month

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For the Kids

I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣ ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣ ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.”

Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.

This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally.

He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.

“Mr. Bang?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.

Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.

“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”

“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly, “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”

Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”

“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.

“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”

The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.

“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”

“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”

A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”

You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.

Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.

From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.

Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.

“Wanna see my drawing?”

He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”

Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”

The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.

“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”

Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”

She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.

Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.

With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.

“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.

“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”

“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”

“Hyung!”

Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.

Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”

His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation.

“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”

“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”

“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”

“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”

Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”

You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.

Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.

“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”

“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”

“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”

Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”

“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”

Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”

“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”

Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”

He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”

“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.

Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.

‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella , @butterflydemons ,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff

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seospicybin · 10 months

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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (10,8k words)

Author's note: Hope you like this one too. Feel free to send feedback! x

Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.

YOU: I'm always on the hunt. I'm always looking for the next exciting thing [giggles] I know I may sound conceited saying this but... I usually get what I want [bites lip] Well, I'm beautiful, I'm fun, I have a great body... they can't say no to me [winks] get ready 'cause I'm coming in hot!

Having all these eyes on you the moment you walk in is nothing less than your expectations.

You used to get stared at by people, it's something that you've been dealing with after you went through puberty. For one, you don't have either the big boobs or the ass, your body is... average. But people still stare at you like you have all of that on you.

That's when you learn that sex appeal doesn't have anything to do with your appearance.

You can engage in a boring conversation with someone and they'd still find you sexy. Sex appeal is a gift, a very lethal gift.

"Hi, everyone!" You sweetly greet them with an elegant wave of hand.

"Girl, you're really cute!" One of the females says.

You smile even though you prefer to be called anything but cute, coming from her makes it sounds like you're small and not a threat to them.

However, a compliment is a compliment and maybe she meant it in a good way.

"You too," you return the compliment with a quick cheek-to-cheek kiss.

Skipping the females, you go straight to introduce yourself to the male guests, "Hi, hello!"

There are three of them, blonde, brunette, dark-haired, chocolate, vanilla, and caramel. They got everything in here and you can't decide which one you want to taste first.

"Jai!" The dark-haired says. The tattoos covering his left sleeve catch your attention.

You know that accent everywhere, "Australian. I like it," you say with a flirty smile.

You turn to the next one, "And you are?"

"Luca," he answers with a rather different accent.

It's hard to tell but he's tall with a very well-built body, it's safe to say he's an athlete.

"Do you play sports?"

"I'm a professional footballer," he answers.

"Soccer?" You ask for confirmation because football means a different sport in a few countries.

He nods, "Do you like it?"

"Well, I like what I'm seeing," you shamelessly reply.

It amuses him so much that he laughs, "I mean, soccer," he corrects himself.

"Only when you're playing," you answer without a beat.

You move on to the blonde one that has the biggest body out of the three. It's hard to miss those abs even with his oiled body reflecting the sun at you.

"Bryan," he introduces and doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek.

"You're so big," you say in awe.

"The bigger the better?"

You grab a glass and let him pour you one, "Well, cheers to that!"

YOU: Oh... [fans your neck] They're all so hot. Not sure I can survive in this heat.

It's better to consider the other female guests as your friends rather than competitors.

They're all attractive and have their own charms, it's not like you're here to compare looks. You're here to have fun in a show called Pleasure Island.

From the name of it, you can imagine all the fun you can have and hopefully, get some action in the process.

The next male guest who enters the villa is a bit shorter than the previous ones, he has long curly hair and a great body.

He comes in your direction and introduces himself to you first before anyone else.

"I'm Jack!" He says with a smile that showcases his perfect white teeth.

"Hi, you have a nice smile!" You say.

"I love your smile," he flirts back with a subtle wink.

He leaves quite an impression on you, he has wild youthful charms.

YOU: Jack is cute. He'll make a cute boy toy. If you know what I mean.

It comes down to the last guest.

Your eyes are already busy silently checking them out while sipping your fruity cocktail but how can you say no to another body you can ogle on?

This guy sure has a lot of confidence in him. Wide strides, a sly smile, and a face that would make Michelangelo rise from his grave just to immortalize it into a sculpture.

Sadly, he only introduces himself briefly to everyone from the other end of the group of people lining up to face the camera.

"I'm Minho," he shortly announces his name with an enigmatic smile that would make Monalisa run for her money.

There's something about him, something you can't put your finger on. He got the body, and the face, he even got that improved, sexier version of The Kubrick stare.

You quietly watch him as he speaks to a girl with rosy cheeks, ginger hair, and a Scottish accent, you believe her name is Maisie.

Something about him makes you can't look away. A part of it must be because he's pleasing to the eyes and the other part is... You are simply attracted to him.

It feels as if he knows he trapped you in his magnetic field, he catches you looking.

Instead of looking away, you stare deeply into his eyes and sending him signals that you're indeed attracted that you can't stop looking.

Before it turns into an intense staring contest, you slyly smile and raise your glass at him for a toast.

He slightly raises his glass as well and sips it without breaking his eye contact with you.

That means signals received so let's see if he gets them right.

YOU: Minho is dangerous but who likes to play safe anyway? Definitely, not me [smirks]

"I like Jai. He's hot..." says the beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair, Agnes.

It's obvious that she'll be the main character of this show. She's hot, very likable, and has a perfect smile that would get her teeth-whitening ads.

"What about you?" She asks the tallest girl with legs for days, Zara.

Her dark skin glows under the sun and her curly hair flows down her back, radiating that goddess beauty.

"I like Bryan. I like big boy," she answers.

"And apparently, you like vanilla too, huh?" you playfully add.

Everyone cracks a laugh at your witty response and accidentally takes your turn to answer, "I like Jack, he's cute. I like cute boys."

YOU: Jack is the safest choice for now. I have my eyes on Minho too but I want to check the competition first.

"Yeah, he is, I think he's the youngest of them all," the one with midnight hair and light brown eyes, Alia.

Maisie nods in agreement, "But I got my eyes on Minho," she says.

The first competition appears and you keep your face straight, playing dumb.

"Oh, good choice!" You calmly respond.

"Did you see his face? He's so beautiful, like a Greek God!" Maisie says with a dramatic sigh.

"And his body, ooh..." Alia adds, overwhelmed by just the thought of Minho.

"Oh, you like him too?" Maisie asks, faking her surprised tone.

"Yeah, I'm going for him, he's so my type," Alia daringly says.

Forget what you said about them as your friends!

Maisie and Alia are your competitors now but you're not going to declare a war just yet. For now, you want to gather as much intel as possible to assess the probability of winning against them.

YOU: Minho is quite the ladies' favorite I see.

You're the last person to come into the bedroom and everyone seems to have chosen their territory.

There are five beds anyway, you're not afraid of not getting one and you're alright sleeping with anyone.

Maisie can have her victory when you see her getting onto Minho's bed.

You sit on the sofa looking away and when everyone else is busy chatting with each other, you look at Minho's direction laying down with hands tucked under his head.

Once your eyes make contact and lock in a gaze, you keep staring into his eyes with your thumb tugged between your teeth.

When you deem he gets the message as he flashes you his signature half-smirk, you look away and shift your attention to someone else.

"What's good, Jack?" You ask him who's looking lonely on his bed.

"You," he answers.

"I think I'm more than just good," you tell him with a flirtatious laugh.

"There's only one way to prove it," his eyes that keep looking at anywhere but your face tells it all.

YOU: Jack is just so... feisty? He's so young, so eager. He's like a rabbit, ready to have sex 24/7. A jackrabbit.

The theme for tonight's party is Greek Gods and Goddesses.

The males are wearing togas while the females are wearing white and gold dresses with less fabric and high slits on them. You put on a dress with a plunging neckline and a golden headpiece on the crown of your hair. Not forgetting to put layers of lipstick on because nothing arouses men more than seeing red-painted lips.

The male cheers when all the females are descending the stairs to the beach where the party is held. There's a bonfire, glasses of cocktails ready for everyone to grab, and platters of food arranged so beautifully to snack on.

To get it started, music is blasting through speakers so everyone can warm up with a dance, gyrating and humping against each other and whatnot.

You notice Jai and Agnes already got things going on as you caught them kissing in between changes of songs.

While Jack is hopelessly trying to get something out of you for a while.

At one point, you let him rest his hands on your hips as he stands behind you, dancing and rubbing yourself against him as a little treat for him.

YOU: Everyone is looking so hot, so divine... the sexual tension is rising and the night hasn't even started yet.

The music abruptly stops playing and everyone is told to sit down while Jack is taking center stage, announcing a game everyone is going to play.

"Nectar is the drink of the Olympian gods but unlike them, we have a new way to drink it!" He begins by sharing a little knowledge of the Greek mythology.

You have zero idea what it's got to do with a game everyone is about to play.

"Everyone is going to stand here and let the other Gods or Goddesses drink the nectar from their bodies," he explains, pointing to a bowl of honey on the table.

A few of them coo in excitement and probably start thinking about what they're going to do with it.

"Nothing is off-limits! It's whatever, wherever, whoever you want to do," he playfully remarks.

Bryan is the first one to take his turn and he stands there with his big body, looking like a true Greek God in his toga and crown.

You see that Zara wastes no time to take her chance, taking a spoonful of honey and letting it dribble down his abs. She drops to her knees to lick the honey clean on his glorious abs.

"Whoo!" You howl and applaud her because she sets the standards so high already.

She doesn't miss the chance to kiss him after, getting his big boy just like she planned. Now that's hot!

It gets crazier with each turn and you want to have fun as well, ultimately, you want to show everyone how to get it done.

It's Agnes's turn. You don't usually have a thing for blonde but she's pretty and she'll make a great conquest.

Before Jai can have his chance, you dash toward her and brush her lips with honey right with your finger. She has soft lips and you're so eager to taste it.

You lean in and passionately kiss her, showing off your skill in kissing and giving everyone a little show. Just as expected, kissing her only convinces you that girls are better kissers.

"Oh, damn!" You faintly hear one of the males exclaim.

Agnes gasps as she lets go of the kiss and suddenly, Jai takes over from you, afraid that you'll take her from him.

YOU: It's a party. I want to have a lot of fun and kiss everyone.

You return to your seat with a triumphant smile on your face, on the way, you shot a glance at Minho to dare him.

However, both Maisie and Alia didn't get any from him. You start to wonder if he's going to kiss someone at all or not. When it's Minho's turn though, Maisie is excitedly put honey on his neck and licks it off for him, finishing it with a kiss on his lips.

Alia takes her turn after, kissing him right on the lips and well, you must admit that he's a good kisser. He's lacking in hand placement.

Sure, you would love to get up there and show him what a good kisser you are.

YOU: It's still day one. There'll be lots of opportunities to kiss him and if not, I'll make the opportunity myself.

When it comes to your turn, you expect nothing from Jack but he's waiting for it, rubbing his hands together, impatient to execute his plan on you.

"Come, get your honey," you playfully say.

Jack picks up the whole bowl of honey and pours it down your cleavage. You're gasping the second the sticky liquid lands on your skin and trickles down the valley between your breasts.

Putting the bowl down, Jack dives right in and buries his face between your breasts, he's smearing the honey all over instead of licking it off of you.

You admire his creativity for this even though you know it's coming from the pit of his lewd, juvenile brain.

"Oh, yeah!" He lets a celebratory roar but it soon dies down as someone else comes toward you in his confident, wide strides.

Your stomach is fluttering as Minho stands right in front of you, looking like Adonis with his sharp nose and chiseled jaws, got you holding your breath and wondering what he's about to do to you.

Minho is unpredictable which is exactly what you're looking for in a man.

You see he dips his two fingers into the honey and brings them close to your lips, smearing it all over. Your lungs are shrinking the longer you hold your breath yet you can't seem to breathe when he's leaning so close and about to...

Minho doesn't kiss you. Instead of that, he licks your lips and you can feel his hot tongue on your lips. One lick is all it takes to make your heart skip a beat.

When you think he's done, Minho tugs your lower lip between his teeth and gently bites it, pulling at it before letting it go.

As he takes a step back, Minho shoves his fingers to his mouth, a half smirk that signified he just evened the score with you.

YOU: Minho got the signals after all [slyly smiles]

When the host of the show enters you finally snap yourself out of it.

"Wild night, huh?" He asks everyone.

"Yeah!" Bryan answers the loudest.

"It gets wilder because I have a surprise for you guys!" The host announces.

That gets everyone excited, guessing what kind of surprise they'll bring on the first night of the show. They expect so much because everything has been great already. More girls? More boys? A celebrity guest? A DJ?

"Are you guys ready?"

Everyone is hyped, shooting up from their seats and jumping in excitement like kids on Christmas morning.

"Bring it in!"

The attention shifts to the two staff carrying a big wooden box and placing it in the center. The anticipation is rising and everyone can't wait to see what's inside.

"Five! Four! Three! Two..."

Everyone counting down the second and when it finally gets to one, the side of the box opens, revealing a cone-shaped thing inside, lighting up in purple colors.

Then you hear the infamous ding sound that you know for sure it's coming from Lana, the ultimate cockblocker.

Your excitement fizzles out in a second and drop your head on your hands, "Oh, fuck!"

Maisie squeals while Agnes shrieks in horror and the rest are wondering what is that thing, oblivious to the fact that they're about to be forced into celibacy.

"Is that an air freshener?" Jai asks in pure confusion.

"That's Lana!" You say.

"What?" He cringes and is still confused.

"She's going to cockblock us!" You concisely tell him what's about to happen to all of you.

"We're on Too Hot To Handle!" Zara breaks the news for everyone and makes it real for you that you're trapped in this show.

"Hello, I'm Lana, your personal digital assistant!" The cone starts speaking.

"Welcome to the retreat!"

YOU: What. The actual. Fuck?

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper and more emotional connections."

Alia whines and then sighs, "I signed up for dicks," she lowly mutters.

You lowly laugh at her words, not realizing that you're also laughing at your pain.

"For the last 12 hours, I have been watching you and learning about your behavior. You have been selected as all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."

The more Lana speaks the more you feel like fainting. Can't believe that she threw a party, and got everyone all hot and bothered, delivering shocking news in the middle of it to let everyone know that they can't have a release at the end of it.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

YOU: That much money makes me horny, to be honest.

"How about I give you $200,000 for you to go away, Lana?" Luca jokingly offers but it falls short since Lana has no ears.

Even if she had one, she wouldn't listen to him anyway, Lana is her own boss.

"However, I will deduct money from the prize fund if there are breaches of the rules."

Looking at them and how wild the things they've done this night alone, you can tell that there'll be not much money left at the end.

"For those of you who need reminding, there is to be no kissing...."

"Fuck!" Zara bluntly curses.

"No heavy petting, no sex..."

"Oh, my God!" Agnes panicking, looking like she's about to hyperventilating.

"And no self-gratification."

Jack's eyebrow raises in question, "What's that mean?"

"No masturbating," you tell him with a sad smile.

He looks devastated as if you've just told him a relative has died, "for real?"

You stifle a nod.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes.

YOU: Boys make me horny. Money makes me horny. I'm fucked.

Everyone in the dressing room is groaning and complaining about the turn of Pleasure Island into No Pleasure Island with Lana ending the party for everyone.

You don't want to be dragged down into the misery pit and decide to finish your night routine quickly, wanting to end the day already.

Minho's bed is right next to the door and he's laying there as if he's been waiting for you.

"You'll sleep on this bed," he says, stopping you from walking.

You tip your head to the side, then let out a low chuckle, "How are you so sure?"

He leans back on his pillow and puts his hands under his head, "because I'm sleeping here," he answers.

Minho is so cocky, so pretty, a menacing force in this retreat and you're intrigued to see what it feels like to sleep with the devil's advocate.

You crawl onto the bed and lay next to him, not showing any signs that you'll fall into his temptations, at least, not tonight.

YOU: Well, as expected, the best girl won!

The next thing you anticipate is how Maisie or Alia is going to react to seeing you in one bed with Minho.

Minho has his hand resting on your stomach like he's trying to hold you down, not letting you go anywhere even though you're under the cover with him, chatting with Agnes who's occupying the next bed with Jai.

Maisie is the first one to see that her number one guy is on the bed with someone else, she glances away and is left with no choice but to sleep with Jack tonight.

You don't have to look to know that she's throwing daggers at you with her eyes from across the room.

And Alia looks calm about it, she's going to sleep with Luca anyway. Perhaps, she's switching onto his lane tonight.

"No one breaks the rules tonight!" Bryan remarks.

There's always that one guy who's going to protect the money but it's a surprise that it's going to be Bryan.

"Be good!" He warns once again as he looks around the room.

Something about being reminded not to do something though only encourages all of these horn dogs to do it.

You turn your head to see Minho and can't tell what he'd likely do. With most men, you can easily tell everything about them but Minho... he is uncharted territory but it's a good thing that you're eager to explore.

YOU: Minho is so perfect and I feel the need to violate it.

You're usually jealous to see anyone prettier than you but not with Minho.

Instead of being jealous, you want to admire him, and worship him like a divine being he is. You hesitate to touch him because it doesn't feel real to exist in the same space and time with him.

It's getting dangerous now that the lights are out and anything can happen in the dark.

He turns to lie on his side and face you, with the dim light coming from the sleep lamps you can see his eyes are open and looking at you.

You reach for his hair and put the strand away from curtaining his forehead, "Are you going to be good tonight?" You keep your voice low as everyone else is going to sleep.

His hand finds your waist under the cover and then he answers, "I don't know."

He then slides his hand to the arch of your back and using all of his strength, he pulls you close until your body is against him.

Brushing your hair to the side, he then brings his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "We'll see."

His vague answers only make you feel uneasy but your chest is overflowing with excitement that you can't sleep, even when you're sleeping, you feel alerted with every movement of his body against you.

In the middle of the night, he disrupts your sleep with a gentle kiss on your neck. He then slides down the strap of your tank top so he can place kisses along your collarbone.

The quiet in the room is filled with the rustles coming from this bed as Minho hovers above you, he takes both of your hands and pins them above your head.

You believe he specifically chooses this time to see if you can keep it quiet as he places kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss leaves a searing mark on your skin with a few low moans slipping past your mouth.

You don't even try to break away from the hand pinning your hands by the wrists but can't stay still as he's teasing you more by kissing you all over your face, except your lips.

He teased you earlier by only licking your lips and by doing this, he wants to see how far can you go and see if he can make you push the limit.

Minho is a fucking sadist but what can you do when you get pleasure in pain?

He lands his lips so close to your lips that you reflexively open your mouth, ready to return his kiss but he retracts himself, you can see how pathetic you are from the way he's looking down at you.

"Are you going to be good tonight?" He asks you back, then loosening the hold around your hands.

Minho is turning the table back, leaving the decision whether to rule break or not to you.

In that case, he was wrong to think you'd be afraid to be the first to rule break.

YOU: Well, I mean... [bites lips] I've never been a good girl anyway.

That half-smirk of his is mocking you but he looks so damn attractive whenever he does that.

You hate losing but for this one time, you're going to like it.

"You fucking tease," you mutter to him, putting your hand on the nape of his neck and bringing his head close.

The bad wins tonight and you can feel the burn as both of your lips touch and clash in a blazing kiss that sets your body on fire.

You wrap your legs around his waist and draw him closer, leaving not even an inch between your bodies, your breasts squashed between your chests.

You kiss him hard and deep, making the most of it knowing that it will cost you money. Your hands are tugging at his soft locks.

His tongue skillfully parts your lips open and invades your mouth, deepening the kiss to get as much taste as he can. He is one phenomenal kisser and even if you had to die of asphyxiation, you don't want to stop.

However, you still want to live to play this game with him and he seems to have the same plan by the way he slowly pulling away. You both gasp for air the second you let go of the kiss.

You land soft pecks on his cheek and neck, turning his head to the side, You whisper "I let you win tonight," then playfully bite his ear.

YOU: And just like that, we're the first to break the rules in the retreat.

"Good morning!" Agnes cheerfully greets everyone the second the lights are on.

"Morning!" You mumble your reply, still feeling sleepy with how little you slept last night.

Bryan pinches the bridge of his nose and scans everyone to spot any guilty faces, he looks even bigger topless next to Zara who owns a model body.

"I really thought I was dreaming that I'm in Too Hot To Handle," Agnes innocently shares.

You softly laugh at that and indirectly, at the satire of your own life. You turn to look at Minho, looking so beautiful even when he's just woken up from sleep.

"How about you?" You put your leg over him under the cover, rubbing his shin with your toes.

"Did you dream a sweet dream?"

Minho slouches down on his pillow, looking like he's about to go back to sleep, "It was sweet but it wasn't a dream."

He casually says that like it wouldn't bring back the recollection of how the two of you kissed last night and you're not going to lie, it gets you wet just thinking about it.

YOU: Waking up next to him, the first thought that comes to mind is our kiss last night. Gosh... it was so fucking hot.

"Didn't you say you like Jack?" Zara asks the second both of you are out of everyone's earshot.

"But I didn't say I only like him," you playfully respond.

She giggles in amusement, "You're a trouble. I like it," she says.

Working out with her at the beach, earning you some tips and exercises you can to get her perfect body figure.

"You got some real competitions though," she says while doing a minute-long plank.

You're running out of breath but manage to answer her, "So?"

Zara chuckles again, "You're not afraid you're juggling two men and going against two girls at once?"

When she puts it like that it sounds like you're creating a problem for yourself. In this retreat, you can't just do whatever you want without getting the consequences considering that you're locked in with them for the next few weeks.

"Well... I like Minho more," you tell her and drop to the mat as one minute has passed.

"Yeah?" She asks for further details.

"But he makes me second guessing everything," you concisely explain.

You turn over and cover your eyes to shield them from the morning sun, "with Jack, it's easier. I don't have to think around him."

Zara turns to start doing side plank, "You're not looking for a good pet here!" She playfully scolds you.

You laugh and follow her lead to do the same, "Unless Minho likes someone else then he's my number one right now."

Zara gently slaps your butt, almost sending you toppled to the front, "that's a good girl!"

YOU: It's only day two and the options are still open but I know what I want. I want Minho.

It's convenient that the dressing room is empty at this time with most of everyone already dressed and dolled up for the day.

"Did anything happen with big boy Bryan last night?" You slyly ask while she's putting her fake lashes on.

She lets out a long sigh in response and slaps her spatula on the table, "What do you expect from an accountant?"

It all makes sense now. Bryan is an accountant, he thinks about the money more than treating his girlfriend with a smooch.

You burst into laughter and stop applying mascara, "hate to say it to you but you chose the wrong guy to be in the show with."

She glares at you from her table then looks back in the mirror, "he chose to play the good cop so that leaves me no choice but to play the bad cop."

"Ooo..." you coo, impressed with her determination to make Bryan break the rule with her.

"If you need a smooch, just know that I will give it to you in a heartbeat," you tell her with a sly smile.

Luca walks in on you applying sunblock on each other's body and he refrains from getting to his locker.

"What did I walk into?" He confoundedly asks.

As Zara bends down against the table, you lather sunblock on her ample butt then slap at it, entertaining the sole spectator in the room.

Luca is too stunned to speak that he's just standing there with his locker door open, "Damn. Do that again!"

The sight that welcomes you as you walk out of the house is of Minho in the pool with the Maisie and you owe it to her to give her a chance, making it a play fair.

You turn the other way and decide to sunbathe on the lounger with Alia, chatting about some good skincare products since she's done some beauty ads.

After a while, you see Agnes and Jai walking back from the beach. From the way Jai is grinning from ear to ear, you can tell that they did something that cost some money.

"Hey, girls," she innocently greets you both and sits on the farthest lounger.

"Hey," you reply then exchange a look with Alia.

She seems to also get the same impression and straightforwardly asks Agnes about it, "Did you just spend some money?"

Knowing that she has a bad poker face, Agnes licks her lips and stifles a nod.

"Oh, no..." Alia sighs and picks up her water tumbler from the floor to take a sip.

You see Jai is joining Luca and Jack in the pool, it's only about time that everyone knows someone has broken a rule and the others will soon take their turn.

YOU: They just didn't know that they're not the first to break the rules, eh? [bites thumb]

Zara packed a lot of outfits with her and you get to borrow one.

"I'm going to look so hot Bryan can't say no to me," she remarks.

You must admire her confidence and it's indeed looking good on her, you should have some on you as well if you want to win this competition.

The night is cool with a warm breeze blowing from the sea, carrying the salty air ashore. It's so easy to locate Minho since he's the only one that always catches your eye.

He's wearing a white shirt with the three top buttons open, exposing his chest muscles, and sitting with his legs spreading open.

You feel like dropping to your knees between those muscular legs and... you push the thought away. You focus on the mission you have to do.

One of the things you like about Minho is that he doesn't waste time, he's straightforward and that's what you're about to do, going straight to business.

"Calling for me?" You poke fun even though he doesn't say anything but sipping his drink by himself.

The sofa can fit three people but Minho's thick thighs are looking so comfortable you can't help yourself to sit on them.

"Do I look good?" You take his hand and put it on your waist.

"Not bad," he answers.

He reclines on the sofa, head tilting upward looking at you and that way, you can admire his beautiful face from the top, inexplicably never getting tired of it.

There's no need for words when you can see everything in his eyes, the way he's intensely staring into your eyes with his thumb lazily rubbing the arch of your back.

The tension is there and it's electrifying, you feel alive when you're with him.

"I like your eyes..." you say as you put your hand on his jaw and your eyes drop to his lips.

Minho softly laughs because he knows you're looking nowhere near his eyes when you say it. He puts a finger under the thin strap of your dress and twirls it around his finger.

"I like yours too," he says back as he's undressing you with his eyes.

YOU: God! I want him and I'm going to get him.

Putting your hands around his neck, you draw him close and put a few inches of safe space between your faces.

Pfft, it's not like it's going to stop you from breaking the rules.

"Are you going to be good tonight?" You ask.

"I haven't decided yet," he shortly answers.

You lean into whisper into his ear, "If you're good then I'll give you something as good later."

Now Minho knows what you mean by being good. That he won't let anyone turn his head or get tempted to break the rules with someone else.

Knowing his nature, you doubt that it will not stop him but it's worth trying. He got a taste of it last night and there's a big possibility that he wants more of it.

You softly kiss his cheek and take his glass of drink from his hand, not hesitating to take a sip.

Let's see how the night goes.

YOU: I think it's going to be a good night.

Too much confidence isn't good either.

You feel a little bitter when you see Minho openly flirting with Alia just a few feet away from you. A moment after that, he talks to Maisie.

You scoff because he decides to turn it into his game and you know what?

You feel like making him sweat a little, especially with Jack sitting across from you and checking you out long enough that you can't ignore it anymore.

You lay on your side and decide to tease him a little, "Nice shirt!"

His mouth curls into a sly smile, "Nice body!" He shamelessly compliments you back.

Agnes comes into the scene and sits on the sofa, letting you rest your head on her lap.

"How about me?" She asks.

His smile grows wider, "You two are on the top of my list!"

"Really?" Agnes asks in curiosity as she drags the letter R.

He points at you and says, "I'm obsessed with you but I think you know that."

"Whoa!" You respond in awe, surprised by how daring and blunt he is.

YOU: I'm not going to lie but I like the attention Jack is giving me right now.

You make a space between you and Agnes, patting it as you tell him, "Come sit here!"

Agnes folds her legs on the sofa and also tells him to come, "We're not going to bite unless you want us to," she says.

Jack, like the puppy he is, hops onto the sofa and sits between you and Agnes.

You lean in close to his side and put one leg over his thigh, slipping your hand into his brown, curly hair.

"Not sure about some bites but Jack wants some kisses," he confidently demands like the two of you would easily give it to him.

Agnes looks at you and you look back at her, in a few seconds of eye contact you know that she wants to do it, she shares the same chaotic energy with you.

"Jack wants some kisses, huh?" You childishly talk to him.

Jack turns his head to look at you and puckers his lips.

"Only if you say please!" You tell him.

"Please..." he pleads by adorably dragging the word.

You grab his chin and lean in to kiss him which he eagerly returns with so much passion, trying to show you what he got.

Not wanting to give him too much, you pull away from the kiss and say, "Agnes is a better kisser," you jokingly say to bruise his little ego.

"Yeah?" He says with an eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you try yourself?" You dare him.

Jack turns to the other side and Agnes doesn't give him one second to prepare himself, showing him how to get it done. You take your drink and sip it while watching them kiss in front of you.

YOU: I kissed Jack not because I have a feeling for him. We're just having fun [shrugs]

It was an eventful night.

Even though you have no idea what Minho did the rest of the night, you don't want to think too much about it, especially after what you've done behind him.

Thankfully, Lana hasn't announced any rule breaks yet and you can sleep in peace for tonight.

You walk to the bedroom in heavy steps and hate that you're feeling scared that Minho suddenly decides to sleep with someone else after being busy flirting with everyone the whole night.

You never know with him and this time, there's no excitement, it's just anxiety. You push the door with your shoulder and find the bed is still empty, you reckon he's still washing up.

Jack flashes you a smile as you get under the cover and it's only making you more anxious. You get startled when the bed shifts as Minho climbs from the other side.

Since he's not that cuddly of a person, you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and snuggle close to his side, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

"How was your night, my beautiful man?" You ask, your hand gently rubbing down his clothed chest.

"Good," he replies, twirling his finger around the thin strap of your black tank top.

"I can make it better," you whisper, lowering your hand down until your fingers meet the waistband of his boxer.

He looks at you and one corner of his mouth raises into his signature half-smirk, "No one is stopping you."

Bryan catches the two of you being suspicious and points it out at everyone, "Hands where I can see them!" He orders.

Instead of complying, Minho shoves your other hand under the cover and keeps them there.

"Minho, man, come on!" Bryan hopelessly scolds him.

It's in the dark that Minho once again starts his exploration.

He pulls you by the waist until there's not an inch of gap left between your bodies, you perfectly mold into his body as he spoons you from behind.

As he presses his lips on the nape of your neck, his hand traces the side of your body, stopping on the back of your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh there.

"I've been good tonight," he whispers to you.

You softly chuckle, not expecting that he'll be asking for what you promised him.

Without turning, you softly slip your hand in his hair, "Really?"

He places a long peck on your jaw, "mmh."

You turn to lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your head, leisurely looking at his beautiful face in the dark.

The plan was you're going to tease him just like he did with you the other night but after what you did and the assurance you got from that misbehavior. You want to show him that you don't want to play a game tonight, or ever again.

Tenderly, you caress his face and hold his jaw as you lean in, kissing him so slowly yet passionately. Minho seems to sense that there's something different about the kiss.

He brushes your hair to the side and holds it there as he returns the kiss to you, his other hand is slipped under your tanktop, splayed on your back with his thumb faintly rubbing the skin.

If only breathing wasn't necessary, you would keep kissing him.

You pull away and press your head close to the side of his head, placing little kisses on his jaw.

"That's money well spent," you comment.

He turns his head to face you and it only entices you to kiss him again but immediately refrain out of the fear of being head-locked by Bryan's giant arms tomorrow.

You sweetly kiss his cheek and lowly mutter, "Goodnight!"

Minho glides his hand up to your neck and looks at you, "Goodnight!"

YOU: Honestly, I wasn't thinking of Minho when I kissed Jack but after it happened, it only got to me then that I really like him.

When you wake up, anxiety dawns on you.

You feel sick in the stomach when Lana chimes in and lights up in the corner of the room.

"Good morning, everyone!"

You silently plead that Lana would not drop the news this soon. Not when you just woke up from a nice, long sleep with Minho cuddling you all night.

"Morning," you meekly answer with a yawn at the end and accidentally meet Agnes's eyes on the next bed, exchanging a knowing, uneasy glance.

"Today's weather will be sunny with highs of 82⁰ Fahrenheit and there will be zero chance of sex."

Jai breaks into laughter and puts his arm around Agnes's shoulder, "She's fucking quality, she is."

The day barely started, you can already tell it's not going to be a good one. You're counting down the minutes or even seconds until Lana tells everyone all of your sins.

YOU: I'm a bit on edge. Not a bit actually. I'm on THE edge.

Even after a session of yoga with Alia, doesn't help you relax at all.

You've done this plenty of times before, going from one casual partner to another in the blink of an eye and never feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. You don't know what changed when you're playing the same game and the only difference is that you're doing it with Minho.

It's after you showered and are immersed in the girl's talk while doing your make-up you finally can have a little peace.

"Have you cracked big boy Bryan yet?" You ask Zara.

Zara carefully swipes the brush on her cheekbones to apply some highlighter, "Girl, as if!"

"That big body comes with a tough personality too," Agnes comments, squinting her eyes to draw a neat line of black eyeliner.

"When we cuddle in bed, he locked me with his arms to make sure I didn't do anything," Zara rants, borrowing your pencil liner without asking.

"You should be grateful that he didn't headlock you to sleep," Alia chimes in as she braids her hair in front of the mirror.

You and Agnes are breaking into laughter at the same time.

That's when Lana decides that it's time for judgment. The cone chimes, startling everyone in the dressing room.

"Hello, girls!" She says.

Zara fans her eyes as she just puts on her fake lashes, "What's up, Lana?"

"Please gather everyone to the cabana!" She orders.

You exchange a knowing and uneasy glance with Agnes as your heart is beating out of your chest. Every step you take to get to the cabana is getting heavier the closer you get there.

There's a space next to Minho on the sofa but sitting next to him will only make you more anxious. You sit in the middle between Luca and Maisie, it's safer to be out of Minho's sight.

"I wonder who kissed who?" Luca asks with a haunting tone.

YOU: Counting my own mistakes, I know for sure that I broke the rules three times [shakes head in disappointment]

Your concern is not the money.

You believe someone else broke a rule or two as well. For example, everyone knew about Jai and Agnes's kiss at the beach.

Also, you're not afraid to admit the ones you committed together with Minho, it's the other ones that you're not proud of.

The sickening sound of Lana coming online makes your heart drop to your stomach.

"Hello, everyone!"

You can't find it in you to reply to her and awkwardly smile in response while everyone else is weakly returning her greeting.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to. Those rules forbid sexual contact."

Even though Lana is a high-tech virtual assistant, you can hear in her voice that she's not pleased with everyone.

"Despite this, yesterday, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of $21,000."

There is a mix of shrieks, gasps, and curses happening all at once. Well, at least, now you know you're not the only one spending the money.

"You guys are blowing it," Alia says in disappointment.

"In total, there were seven rule breaks," Lana shares further details.

YOU: I contributed three out of those seven rule breaks but who did the other four? [squints eyes]

"Time to fess up!" Bryan calls the shot.

Everyone is looking at each other and trying to see any guilty faces. After a while, Minho points at you and calmly says, "I kissed her twice."

Now, that's a man. Minho doesn't falter as he owns up to his misdeeds and even says that it was he who kissed you when in fact, you were the first one to cave in to the temptations.

Maybe it's because of how fast Minho comes clean about it or it could be because of how overwhelming for him to know that two rules have been broken, Bryan only sighs and then moves on to find where the rest of the money went, "how about the other five?"

You gulp air again and pass the turn to someone else. Jai has the worst poker face he can't keep himself from grinning, "We did too," he says while half laughing, "You guys knew we did it on the beach once and did it again last night."

Agnes is looking down on her lap as Jai admits everything and adds an apology at the end, "I'm sorry, you guys!"

Bryan closes his eyes and his eyelids flutter, "Okay then, anyone else?"

Luca who's sitting next to you suddenly raises his hand, "I kissed Maisie last night," he confesses.

That is not what you expect and you're aware that you're getting in between them by sitting there. You didn't know Maisie had given up on Minho already.

"Just once!" He quickly adds.

Maisie even backs him up right after, "We shared a moment and we wanted to see if there's chemistry."

That shocks everyone but Bryan seems to give him a pass for only breaking one rule. Not sure what he'll do when he finds out about the last two rule breaks.

Agnes has been avoiding everyone's eyes and you don't expect much from Jack, he's staying quiet because no one suspects anything because he's harmless and the youngest.

YOU: But I have to be honest, right?

"I kissed Jack," you blurt out.

There's a long pause then Zara snaps her head in your direction, "What?"

Luca laughs next to you, "Look at him, sitting there all quiet," he says and keeps laughing afterward

A grin blooms on Jack's face, maybe it's the grand scene that he's been pictured in his head that he's not what everyone thought he was.

"Well, it's obviously because I like her," he shortly explains.

He rubs his chin and continues speaking, "And I don't regret that one if I'm being honest."

You've been avoiding looking at Minho's direction but you get the urge to see his reaction, not sure what you're expecting but he looks strangely calm about this.

When he's about to look your way, you hurriedly look away though.

You turn to look at the other culprit who's smiling like an angel next to her guy and you can't go down on your own.

"Agnes!" You call and wait until she looks at you to say, "You kissed Jack too!'

"WHAT?" Zara gasps and then covers her mouth, her eyes widen in surprise.

"Why did you do that?" Bryan asks since she's sitting close to her.

Jai who's sitting next to her looks not pleased at all, leaning back with his hands balled into fists on his sides. You would love to see Minho get a little upset too but when you glance his way, he looks not bothered at all.

Now that the offenders have admitted their crimes, Lana can announce the damages done to the prize money.

"I must also inform you that with these multiple rule breaks that happened in the last 24 hours, I have been left with no choice but to double the fine as of this moment."

Bryan's face drops onto his big hands and brushes his head to the back, making his combed hair disheveled in a second.

"Which means $42,000 has been deducted from the prize fund."

There are moans and groans of complaints but there's nothing anyone can do except try to keep their hands to themselves from now on.

"No more spending!" Bryan remarks, crossing his muscular hands together to form the letter X.

Everyone else is nodding in agreement but with almost a quarter of the prize money lost in one day, you're not the only one feeling pessimistic that there would be money left at the end of the retreat.

YOU: That means I spent $18,000 in one night? Whoops.

What makes them think that doing bondage in a workshop would help to take your mind off sex?

You're not sure if that's what the workshop is going to be but you see the waxed ropes and that's the first thing you have in mind.

"Today, we're going to learn Shibari," the guest sex expert announces.

"An ancient Japanese technique used to improve intimacy and trust in relationships," she shares with everyone.

Minho and you have no problem with intimacy but with what you've done recently, it seems that Minho is likely to have a trust issue with you.

"It's a bit more risque but it really does teach people how to trust which is the foundation for any long-lasting relationship," the expert further explains.

"Have you guys ever played with bondage, handcuffs, or any type of restraints?" The expert asks.

A few raise their hands in pride and you see Minho as the experimental type, always open to everything. You don't see him raising his hand, he's too busy shielding his face from the sun.

You take the first turn and can't decide which one you want to do, you haven't done this. Picking up the smaller rope in red color, you decide to do the simplest one called the Hand Prayer tie.

Minho doesn't need to be told, he puts both hands together in front of him and lets you tie rope around it.

"It goes around the middle fingers," he instructed.

As expected, Minho knows how to do this. It's a piece of information that both excites and scares you but in the best way.

After a lot of errors, you are finally done and not impressed with how you didn't tie the rope tight enough that Minho has no problem taking it off without your help.

YOU: Oh, yep, just exactly what Minho needs right now: tie me up.

"Are you ready?" Minho asks as he takes the bigger rope in the color black.

Now that he's about to tie you, you suddenly get a little nervous too.

"No," you answer with a low laugh.

He starts by turning you around, making you stand with your back facing him, not allowing you to see which knot he's going to do with.

"Hands to the back," he orders with his head looming on your shoulder.

You comply right away, putting your hands to the back.

"Shibari is based on power play. When you're the person with the rope, the rigger, you're actually the one who is surrendering and trusting your partner," the expert says as she walks around watching everyone tying each other up.

That's what you're going to do, you're going to trust Minho and he'll be having too much fun with it but he'll do nothing to hurt you.

The second the rope brushes with your skin, you feel a chill down your spine and when Minho pulls them, tightening them around your wrists, you let out a low moan.

Once he's done with the hands, he tidies the ends of the rope before instructing you to lay on your stomach on the mat

You're getting even more nervous as he bends your legs to the back and ties them together.

"Too tight?" He asks.

You test the knot by twisting your ankles together but it doesn't budge at all, "mmh," you hum in answer.

"Good," he calmly responds.

If this is his way of getting back at you then you just have to accept it. You should be grateful that he doesn't tie the rope around your neck.

He then brings your hands and legs together, tying them with the rest of the rope. He pulls at it to make sure the knot is securely tied.

You try to wiggle your body and try any way you can to break away but it's a fruitless effort, you're running out of breath from lying on your stomach for too long.

Minho notices and helps you to turn over, but your hands are now pressed under your body as you lay on your back.

"I can't get out of this," you tell him as he stands, towering over your body.

"No, you can't," he says with a malicious grin.

Minho then lays next to you on the mat, scoots closer to shield you from the sun, and then props a hand under his head as he enjoys watching you helplessly lying next to him.

"You're enjoying this," you say.

That's a wrong thing to say because he hasn't started yet. He picks a flower from the plant near him and uses it to caress your body, dragging the soft petal down the front of your body.

He knows that it does things to you and he can see it from the way your chest is heaving as the flower reaches to your lower abdomen.

Your legs are slightly shaking as he drags it lower and then stops right on the elastic band of your bikini bottom, tugging the flower there.

YOU: I must say it's the best kind of punishment. I don't even think it's a punishment [winks]

"Why did you kiss him?"

You know that Zara has been waiting to ask you that from the moment she found out about it.

You dab your face with a layer of foundation to get ready for the night, "I don't know. I was having fun."

She gives you a scolding look and tips her head to the side, "Girl!"

"I know but at that time I was feeling like... You know, it was so easy to break the rules," you honestly answer because you did feel that way.

There was nothing intimate about the kiss with Jack, if anything it was selfish of you to spend money on a meaningless kiss. You can see now how foolish you were for doing that.

"But instead of upset, I am so jealous of you," she says with a sad sigh.

You get quiet because you know how hard it is for her to even try to tempt Bryan to break the rules with her.

"He didn't even let me cuddle him," she adds.

It's a good thing that Bryan wants to be on Lana's good side but he disregards Zara's opinions about it, putting her needs aside which makes him just as selfish as you are.

YOU: The plan is I'm going to look hot, be a good girl, and talk to Minho. Wish me luck [Crosses fingers]

Taking a glass of drink to fuel your courage, you check if Minho is in a good mood before coming and start talking to him.

"Can I sit with you?" You ask for his permission when you usually would plop down next to him without asking.

He glances up and nods, "Yeah."

Minho doesn't talk much and you should be used to his short, concise answers but it seems a little different tonight, there's an edge to it.

You sit next to him and put a space in between, "You look good tonight," you compliment.

Minho is indeed looking good tonight. That's why he model, because everything looks good on him but you bet that he looks better with nothing on.

He tips his head to one side and looks at the dress you're wearing, "You too," he compliments back with a thin smile.

A little attention is better than nothing. You sweetly smile and mutter, "Aw, thank you!"

Before you forget your initial reason because of just one compliment, you remind yourself that you come to talk.

"So... how are we feeling?" You ask, testing the water before diving right into it.

"About what?" He innocently asks.

You lick your lips before answering, "About the kiss."

"Which kiss?"

Your palms are getting sweaty on your lap. It's like whatever answer you're going to give him would be a wrong one.

"Our kisses or...?" He asks again because you stay quiet.

You take a breath and try to slowly explain everything, "I think the kisses we shared are special. I can see that we have chemistry and connection."

He tilts his head low enough to give you the stare, "If that's so then why did you kiss someone else?"

You keep your calm and answer, "That kiss with Jack, it was nothing. I don't have any feelings for him so you don't have to worry about that."

Minho responds with a nod but no words come out of his slightly parted mouth.

YOU: I usually just walk away from a situation like this and stop caring about it but I want to make this work with him.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask because that's what you're dying to know.

He's been too calm that you start to think that he probably doesn't like you to even care about it but he only replies with a shrug.

"I don't want you to be mad at me because I do like you," you tell him to get an answer out of him.

He stares at you and makes you wait in anticipation to get a response from him. After a while, he leans back on the sofa and says, "We'll see."

You usually like the mystery those words bring whenever Minho says that but not this time.

"'We'll see'? What is that supposed to mean?" You ask in pure confusion.

"I need time," he answers.

You scoff and try to process his answer, "You want me to sit around and wait for like what? A week? Ten days?"

He slumps down the sofa and spreads his legs, casually he says, "I need time to get over it so until then... We'll see."

YOU: I kissed Jack because I saw Minho flirting with the other girls so why am I the only one having to wait for him to come around?

"Okay," you meekly say even though you're not sure that he'll get over it before the retreat ends.

You think that this is possibly his way to keep his options open or maybe that your fear is true, he doesn't like you that much. You just like to play games with each other.

"Are we still going to sleep in the same bed?"

"I don't know," he replies.

This is probably the right time to cut everything off before you get too attached to him when the options are still wide open and who knows that Lana will bring more guests to the retreat, there are many possibilities so why do you have to trap yourself in such a confusing situation and wasting your time on one guy?

You look away and shrug, "Okay, alright."

YOU: If Minho doesn't want to give me what I want then I'll just have to get it from someone else.

You're not tired but you're so ready for bed. You brush your hair quickly before going to the bedroom.

You don't look around but going to Jack's bed, you put the duvet away and say, "Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight," you tell him.

He looks taken aback but awkwardly follows you as you climb onto the bed you shared with Minho for the past two days.

Agnes is giving you the questioning look but just like everyone else, they don't say anything but let the drama unfold.

You get under the cover with him and turn to the side to look at him, "Are you cuddly, Jack?"

He pauses for a moment then says, "I am."

"I love good cuddles."

"Yeah?" He asks with a gleeful grin and eyes that are filled with hopeful glints.

"Of course."

YOU: I told you, Jack is my cute boy toy.

You slip your hand in his curls and play with it, at the same time, watching the door because Minho can come at any minute now.

"Your hair is so soft," you comment.

The door swings open and Minho steps inside, stopping on his track for a second to see that someone else has taken his spot.

The brief look he gives you is enough to make you gulp air, he's saying nothing but has to share a bed with Alia.

The silence is suffocating as everyone watches intently every gesture or expression on either you or Minho to get any hints about what's happening between the two of you.

Their eyes are going back and forth because your beds are facing each other.

"Don't you feel a little hot, Jack?" You ask.

"Uhm..." he hums as he thinks of an answer to such an easy question, "I think so."

You sit on the bed and look in Minho's direction, not necessarily seeing him eye to eye. You take your top off, not caring that this will be broadcasted all over the world and everyone can see your tits.

"Oh... fuck..." you hear Jack curses under his breath next to you.

Minho takes a sip of water from his tumbler and you can see that his jaw tensed as he swallows his water.

Once the lights are out, you get under the cover and turn to the side to face Jack. For someone who kissed two girls at once, he's playing safe by keeping his hands away from you.

You lean in close to his pillow, "How was your day?"

He rakes his brain to answer another simple question, "Can't complain," he answers.

You giggle because of how cute he is, how oblivious to the fact that you're using him to make Minho jealous. When you think about the kiss you shared with him, he isn't that bad of a kisser, he was too excited at that time to focus on using his skill.

You kind of want to give him a second chance so you lean in closer and ask him, "What do you think about spending 6 grand tonight?"

YOU: We'll see? No, Minho. You'll see.

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scara-writes · 2 months

Text

orange juice: enchanting night

Fem! Beta Reader x Yandere! Omega Male

CW: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT, mature content,pp to v, fingering(male receiving), oral(male receiving), edging, mouth to pp, orgasm denial, séx, yandere, male sub, fem dom, mention of torture, dark themes

Remember, I do not know how omegaverss works BUT I will make my own version—(if you see something different in the original universe lol). So if you don't like it scroll away! This is purely a smut with a small plot! Not good with a smut soooo scroll away if you find it uninterested. English is not my first language so yeah im sorry.

Yandere Luke's POV

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Strip for me."

A sentence that made Luke's heart skip a beat.

Fuck that's hot.

He slowly unbutton his cardigan, pulling it off with his pink shirt. The gaze that never leaves him made him more nervous. The male unzip his pants before pulling down, shyly looking anywhere but the person in front of him.

He folded his clothes neatly and put it on bedside table before sitting down at the middle of the bed. He sighs nervously, this is the first time he will have an intercourse with a person. Especially to the person he loved. Luke tries to keep his face calm as much as possible, but he cannot help but to breathe a little—like having a difficulty of breathing—when the woman infront of him starts to crawl towards him. His cock is half hard and it was curving upward, getting hard by every seconds. One of her hands starts to pull his legs closer to her. The first touch made Luke close his eyes, savoring the her hold on his skin.

"Touch yourself baby~ come on.. show me how it's done." Those whispers made him gulped in anticipation. It making him arouse even more. His trembling hand went to wrap around his shaft before his hand motions went up and down. He bit his lower lip suppressing his cute moans. He breathe through his nose emitting a small noises from the back of his throat at the sensation he was feeling between his legs.

When his eyes flutter open to look at the person infront of him. The look on her face made him bite his lip more. The way those sultry looks makes him feel small and safe."Don't hold back your moans. Lemme hear it, yeah?"

The omega feel a shame and shyness the way those (e/c) orbs looked at his cock that is starting to ooze out of his pre-cum.

"Slow... I want to see how my pretty baby stroke his pretty cock..." the omega obeyed at her sweet command. Of course, he would slow everything for her. And gosh, she's calling him pretty? Is he pretty? She has him flustered and whimpering at the nickname. Being called baby is enough but pretty? Her praise alone can make him go undone real quick.

"That's right baby... you're doing good for me.." she praised.

He moaned, he can't hold back anymore. "(Y-y/n)..! Nghh!"

The beta infront of him lean closer to kiss his neck slowly, she was even smiling smugly.

"Don't cum until I say so, yeah?" She shows her canine biting his collarbone making him gasped, nodding at her instruction. Bite him more! More mark him? His body is only for her. The only person who sees him as a person. The fondling on his shaft were stuttering everytime she leave a bite or a kiss around his neck and torso. It was difficult not to cum immediately with those sweet teasing touches from her. Luke called her name softly. "I'm here baby." She mutters licking his earlobe before biting it softly. This made the male huffs out of short breaths. His eyes are half daze, his hand around his cock were getting sloppy. "You wanna cum?"

"Y-yes.."

"Not yet... Hold it in okay? You're doing well so far." She kissed his lips. Luke whined at her reply but he kissed her back. She pulled away and starts attacking his neck once again. Smelling his pheromones. The beta hummed in delight."You smell good, baby~ all for me yeah?"

The omega nod. "A-all for (Y-y/n)..hahhngh!"

"I love you." She whispered between kisses and bites on his chest. Luke pants,"I-I love (y/n) t-too."

He didn't mean to cum when he felt a teasing bite from his nipple. The cum dribble down to his shaft, down to his fingers. It was so fast, he didn't mean to came to fast.

"That's.. to fast..." She commented. Luke bit his lower lip. He felt ashamed.

"baby~" she chuckled. One of her thumb went to press into his nipples, pressing and circling it in motion. Luke whimpered. "I-I'm sorry, i didn't mean to cu—"

She grabbed his hand that was wrapped around his cock replacing it with hers before leaning again to his face, plantinh her lips on his, resulting for Luke to lay down the bed. One of the beta's hands went to hook the omega's right leg onto her hips.

Luke moaned, drowning at the woman's pheromones. Both of his hands went to unbutton her shirt pulling it away from her body and then unclasping her bra behind, throwing it somewhere in his bedroom. He gasped when his cock's slit is being rub in a little fast. Her tongue that's exploring his mouth went deeper after he opened his mouth from the surprised.

"Nghh..!hungh~!" He whine when she push her tongue deeper into him. She's too much for him! She's devouring him a little to fast.

When she pulled her kiss away wiping the saliva from her chin, she chuckled when she noticed his face. Luke may look pathetic under her gaze, that's fine by him as long as he can please her. He whimpered when the (h/c) laugh, one of her hand that wasn't stroking his cock went to wipe his drool from his chin. "You're so cute."

"(Y-y/n)..." He murmurmed before getting surprised when she goes down below him, between his legs.

The omega cried, feeling a teasing kisses on his tip and a painfully slow stroke on his shaft. Shallow breaths is huffing out from his mouth.

"Messy.." he heard her muttered, the way the sticky pre cum went to her hands before licking his tip and then swallowing him halfway.

Squelching sounds were echoing inside the bedroom. Luke's hair already disheveled, his bangs were sticky on to his face due to the sweat producing from his body. The male was covering his mouth, muffled moans and whimpers were coming into him. He is biting the back of his palm, getting teary from the ministration below his stomach.

"H-hahh....nnghh (y/n) p-please!"

He feels so good, the way her warmth from her mouth just added stimulation—her tongue twirling on his cock slit. She's too much! Too fucking much! If she keeps doing this he will cum sooner!

He grab a handful of hair trying to pull the beta away between his legs for feeling the overstimulation. The way his cock disappears in her mouth was so intoxicating to look at. Everything about her is just endearing, his desires for her has increased ten fold. Your moans vibrating around his haven. "(Y/n)... N-no s-stop—hukk! Hahh!" Feeling his high is about to reach but suddenly the said person stopped. Popping out her mouth from his cock.

"Ffuck..!" The pink haired male cursed. He looked down between his legs to see you kissing his tip, running her hands up and down at his shaft, teasing him. You look so beautiful.

So pretty,

So ethereal,

So gorgeous,

"(Y-y/n).." he whined arching his back slightly hoping she would go back to giving him an oral butthe female smirk at his frustrations. Luke stares at her with a teary eyes, she grab the hand that was gripping her hair before kissing the palm and then intertwining it with hers. The (h/c) haired woman lick her lips, stroking him for a bit and then she halts. "I thought you said to stop?" She teased. "(Y/n) P-please that's n-not what I—"

The woman below him went back swallowing him again, bobbing your head up and down faster than the last time. Luke never felt euphoric other than this. The way her eyes flutter, not breaking an eye contact with him is just too much for the omega. Everything about her is so sensual, so beautiful, so ethereal. The person who will cherish him.

The male feel flustered when her eyes landed to so many love bites and hickey she left from his neck all the way down to his thighs. Those captivating (e/c) orbs made his heart pounded even more. His cock is throbbing inside her mouth again but the omega whined when her hands stops, pulling her mouth away from him. "S-stop teasing please! L-let me have it!" He cried. Pushing his hips up to meet her mouth but she only gave him a smile."Baby.. you have to be patient~" she whispered. Tracing her nose from his stomach till she reach beside his right ear. "You have to be quiet too~ don't want your neighbors hear your sinful voice now, do you?" The woman got up and leaned down his face. The purple eyed male pulls her head with his other free hand kissing her deeply, licking every corner of her mouth as both of them groan in pleasure. His manhood stood up grinding himself to her belly. The pre-cum starts smear on her stomach.

(Y/n) other hand went to grab his hips stopping him from grinding, she let herself go from the kiss clicking her tongue in a teasing manner. "Ah-Ah-ah~.... Someone's getting eager.."

The beta woman kissed his forehead basking into his scent as Luke gazed at her with tears threatening to spill from his eyes."..don't tease me...!" He plead, ignoring the way his voice cracked. She only gave him a teasing smile.

Luke can't help but to find everything about her hot. Especially those smile.

The hands that was still entertwined was pulled to her lips. The (h/c) haired woman switch her hand that intertwined brush under his wrist to grab it, kissing every fingertips of Luke. He shudders the way her gaze never break eye contact with him, until she bite the side of his palm. Luke hissed watching as she kiss it as a way to apologize.

"Help me pull down this, pretty." She instructs referring to her box pants. Luke eagerly helped her, their other hand still intertwined. He pulls it down her until it reaches to her feet and she kicks it away as it landed on the floor. He brought back his leg that was once on her hips.

"Spread them f'me better, baby." She whispered, refferring to his lower body. Carressing his thigh with her available hand letting his wrist go. You pinch both of his inner thighs licking your lips, your eyes peering down between his legs. "Gosh you're so soak down here..." The beta chuckled, prodding one finger in his ass. The juice coming out from him kissed her fingers and brought it up to her face. The female is smirking giving him a teasing look."Oh my... Do you see this baby? How wet you are f'me?" She purred. The male bit his lower lip looking away in embarrassment." Awe, don't be shy now... You sounded like a slut earlier." She taunted letting go off her hand from his. Focusing on his pleasure once again.

"(Y-y/n)!" The omega yelped when he felt two finger inserted in his hole without a warning. He wasn't expecting her to insert it already. It felt like his inside is clenching on her fingers as she scissor it in motion before curling it and then inserting another finger. He moaned arching his back the way she added more stimulation as your other hand went stroking his shaft. "Say my name.. Luke, who's making you feel good right now? Who do you belong to?" Her lips swallowed his tip licking the slit between.

"N-no! Its too much! Ngh.. huhhhghh!" He gripped the sheets besides him. This is heaven.

A paradise for him.

The way she hit his right spot made him utterly in heaven.

She went faster and faster. The feeling of her power on his body is making him feel so many emotions, a triple desire, a new addiction.

"Ahh! Hahh!"

She slightly chokes when his own body push his hip to her mouth unexpectedly. "H-hahh..nnoo (Y/n) please! It's too good! T-too much!" He babbled.

But she stop, moving her mouth away from his cock. The female pulled out her wet fingers from him, stroking his shaft painfully slow. Luke whined. The high he was about to reach was snatched by the same person who gives him the access to experience it.

"W-why?! Why did you stop again?!" He cried."p-please! Just let me have m-my way... Please!"

"You didn't answer my question earlier, baby." she teased. She pull his leg to her shoulder even more having more access to his entrance as her prod his twitching hole with her fingers. "Who do you belong to?" Her voice was small. "Who could make you shudder like this? Make you feel good hmm? Tell me, baby~"

The beta insert one finger curling it around and then going in and out painfully slow. Luke bit his lip. Hearing how his entrance squelched in just one finger you inserted. It's so slutty and he can't believe he can get off on that. He whimpered before muttering your name.

She teased. "Hmm? I didn't hear you~what was that?"

"(Y-y/n)! I b-belong to (Y/n)!" He blurted. "Please!m-make me feel good! I'm yours!" One tear fell from his eyes.

The beta giggled kissing his cheeks before going back down between his legs. "See? It's not to hard to say it... That's my good boy. You're mine as I am yours." She praised.

She went back to her ministration, finally giving what Luke wanted. The omega's gaze were halfdaze throwing his head back as she give him what he wanted. Carressing her hair, he praises her.He came inside her throat, the male witness how the beta between his leg swallowing his spent. Coughing a little before sitting up straight, his leg on her shoulder stayed there as she guided it higher until its beside her neck. The woman straddle on the omega's hip except the side where his leg that is lifted on her shoulder. Luke looked at her entrance, he shudders seeing her own entrance is damp too. It so perfect for him.

"You ready, baby?" She ask gripping his leg on her shoulder, leaning down on him. Her entrance is hovering over his dick.

Luke gulped, his eyes full of lust, love and longing. He nod. "Always.. (y/n).. only for you."

She smiled kissing his jaw. Luke sighs dreamily, begging her. "(Y/n) put m-me in. Please, please!"

She chuckled at him being impatient as he is. "As my baby's wish~"

She slowly slip her entrance, warming his cock. The two groan in the sensation. The pink haired omega feel flustered watching as she sunk deeper into his cock. He groaned the way her gummy walls tighten around his cock as her slowly starts ride him.

"S-shit—! (Y/n). Feel so good! Oh hahh...!"The pink haired sob. "I-I will knot you!...nghh! I will knot you..oh so g-good! Please let me knot you!"

The moaning and groaning and slapping skin can be heard inside Luke's room. "Fuck, Luke..." She moaned, he quickly catching her by intertwining his hands with hers again as his other hand went to her hips guiding her, while finding her sweet spot. Her hips stuttered when he finally did. The couple can feel the climax. "Let it go, baby... Make me yours—hahh..."

"G-give me all... Fill m-me up..!" She moaned out.

Luke cursed, feeling the stars in his vision. The stimulation was too much to bare. He can't, the way she tighten around him was too much—too good!

"(Y/n)—"

"Shit. Luke hold my hand tighter b-baby—!" You stutter feeling that you are about to reach the high. Luke tightened his hold on her hand intertwining her hands again. Kissing him deeply, riding him faster, his other hand guide her hips bouncing in the right position to make her and himself feel good. Just a few more and both of them will feel the climax.

Luke lapped her lips as she did the same, crashing your weight down on him. "I'm close!" He whimpered closing his eyes any second now he will knot her.

He can feel it, the way she tightened even more around him. Any second now he will shoot his love inside her womb, regardless how a pair between omegas and betas has a small percentage of chance on having a child. Still Luke will do it again and again with her until she is knoted perfectly to have his children.

The woman lick his mouth asking for him to kiss her, Luke obeyed. Pulling his head up to reach her face, the couple busy by love making. A small tune of background is starting.

"Baby... I-I think something is ringing.." she groaned , the room starts to get filled by something unknown sounds. The omega didn't notice he was to busy at love making session. He heard a familiar sound. One that he usually hear whenever he wanted to re-watch his favorite show. And a tube that he set up for the alarm clock.

"KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE~"

Purple eyes went wide open, sitting up straight. His pyjamas is drenched with his own swea, his lower region on the other hand was the most soak part.

Wait ...

The pink haired male glared at the beat up alarm clock that sang a song he used to love. He grab it and threw it at the nearby wall. Making the object explode its contents another task he will have to do it later when he get home.

Fuck...

The omega male is angry, he can't believe that all of that was just a dream. A wet dream. He didn't even get to fucking reach the heaven! Frustration is an understantment mood for what he is feeling right now.

This isn't new to him, It's been a month since he's having a love making fantasies with her and everytime the two of them about to reach the peak on that session, he would wake up sweating, hard, his pheromone sticking throughout his room.

He grab a pillow and buried his head as he screams. The omega didn't care if his neighbors heard him. He had to stomp all the way to his bathroom connected to his room.

He pulled down his pants, looking straight to the bathroom mirror. The omega starts to jerk himself off. Panting at the sensation between his legs.

He bit his lip suppressing his moan. Imagining how he wished it was her behind him towering over guiding him how to stroke himself. Carressing his torso as her lips was right beside his ear whispering sensually,

"just like that baby~ let me see how you make yourself good."

He can't help but moan her name as he look at himself, being sweaty.

"can you see yourself so cute? So presentable for me? Oh baby, you're doing so good."

He closed his eyes, liking the idea of her kissing his earlobe as she taunts him, "go on baby... Let it go.. let it all out, my love."

His cum smeared some part of his cabinet door and some went to his wall. Luke cursed himself as he slowly comes down to his reality.

He gritted his teeth wanting to smash something but he doesn't like the idea of cleaning more mess.

He grab a tissue at beside the sink and start wiping it. Cleaning all his mess and himself. A cold shower would do nice to steam off this hormones he is feeling.

Once he calms down, he glared at the wall across his room. Infront of it was a small calendar. His eyes lit up.

He realize that today is the day he get to meet (Y/n).

The sourness mood in the morning soon dissipated as soon as the thought of her meeting him this week! And that day is today!

The omega got up, getting a quick breakfast and eat it, brushing his teeth, finding his favorite perfume he can find, spraying it to the each side of his neck, the one where she told him that he smells good last time. He look at the fridge with her and him smiling at the polaroid. His eyes soften as he gaze at her goofy smile. He took his butterfly knife pocket it beneath his sweater. Incase, he could protect from any harm. The male went to double check his basement just incase the man, who tried to assault him, he tortured last night wasn't escaping before leaving the house. He hopes he will die in starvation and infection before he dump his rotten flesh from the bone grinder and use it to throw it away as a foul meat.

Once, he lock the door behind him. He sprinted out of his house to the nearby bus stop so he can quickly get on time with you.

It took him twelve minutes to get to his destination. He hop down from the bus and starts to run again, he had to stop by at the his favorite cafe to buy some fruit tea she likes so both of him and her can enjoy the day on the park.

He skips happily, exiting out of the cafe as he look at the time from his watch to see that he still early. As he passed two blocks, he saw a (h/c) haired nearby. He quickly gaze to see if that's actually his crush, and it's actually her.

"(Y/n)!" Luke waved his hands, happy that he got to finally meet her again. He was carrying a two drinks, a fruit tea.Excitement was filling him up when he finally got to hang out with her on the week end. It has been three months and the two became bestfriends—atleast for her that is how she view her relationship with him. For Luke, it was just a step to make her his.

As he reached towards her, his smile starts to died down, his hands that was waving at her direction starts to waver. He witnessed that she is talking to someone, it was more like she is arguing with it. He was taller her height only reach on his shoulders length, he was built, a muscular. He reek of something he loathed. An alpha.

Why the hell is he talking to her?

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

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lovexdeepspace · 3 months

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Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

#love and deepspace #rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #xavier #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace

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loveindefinitely · 7 months

Text

༊*·˚ YOUR PERFECT KISSES, HOLD ME SOFTLY — early morning cuddles with your boyfriends!

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish

warnings. sfw, fem!reader, polyamory, kissing, non-sexual touching, soapghost, pre-established relationship

The morning sun filters in through the pale curtains of the window, brushing the three of you in strokes of soft oranges and yellows.

Ghost's arm is heavy around your waist, his chest pressed tightly to your back where you lay. He acts like a heated, comfortable anchor for your usually restless sleeps.

The smell of warm vanilla and musk is a familiar and safe one, Soap's head resting where your neck meets your shoulder. His leg is hooked over your hip, over Ghost's, too. He was always a koala when he slept, needing your touch, desperate for the feel of your bodies draped over his own.

"Go back to sleep," Ghost's gravelly voice murmurs next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His normal voice was a punch to the gut, but the tone, the depth of it when he had just woken up?

It makes your heart skip a beat, your breath come out just the slightest bit harsher.

You turn, just slightly, gently opening one of your eyes to look at Ghost. His deep brown eyes are half-closed with sleep, just the slightest bit glassy.

"Morning," you whisper, brushing your lips against the morning scruff of his chin, then moving up to plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His arm tightens around your torso, pulling you just the slightest bit closer, like a possessive cat with its milk. "Mornin' Princess," he responds with the slightest quirk to his lips.

Soap murmurs in his sleep, eyebrows scrunching the lightest bit as he presses closer into you, head burrowing even further into your neck.

When your gaze drifts back to Ghost, you find his adoring gaze focused on the man in your arms, before it returns to you. The emotion in them doesn't change. Not in the slightest.

"Pretty," he says, like it's an admonishment. The word settles in your mind, the way he says it, the weight of the syllables on his tongue, all kept as a memory to look back on in years to come. "My pretty girl."

You nod, gently, as not to stir Soap still asleep in your arms. "Yours, Simon. All yours."

He presses the kindest of kisses to your forehead, so delicate in comparison to the harm you know that the man can cause. The deaths on his hands, the thrill of it in his bones.

And yet.

Here, Ghost is, cradling his lovers like they're the most precious of cargos. Ghost. Legend of the military. The man with the mask that sparks recognition and fear in the soldiers unlucky enough to cross his path.

The Ghost.

And he was yours. Just as much as he was Soap's -- Johnny's --but yours, nonetheless.

"Thinkin' so loud," that memorable scottish lilt huffs, but there's no hostility in the words. With a soft bite at your neck, Soap leans back with a soft groan, looking at the both of you. "Good fuckin' mornin' to me, aye?"

You huff out a breath of a laugh, and Soap's mouth twists into an easy smirk, movements lethargic and slow.

Grabbing your chin with large, roughened hands, he tilts your face to slot against his own, deepening the kiss almost immediately. His tongue slides against your own, lazy in its strokes.

"Gross," Ghost mutters, with a half-assed roll of his eyes. "Mornin' breath. Brush your teeth."

You giggle against Soap's lips, and when you pull away, he bites at your bottom lip and plants a couple quick presses against your mouth before pulling away. His smirk only deepens, the light in his blue eyes dancing with half-awake joy.

"Jealous, Lt?" Soap taunts, without the usual teasing bite. You supposed that even he had to awake before the real energy began.

"Told you to stop callin' me that after hours," Ghost grumbles with a furrow of his brows. "'Nd no, 'm not. Just mindful of my hygiene."

You hum, melting between the two large men, fully ready for them to converse while you didn't have to think for a single moment. Ready to just live in the space between the two who held your deepest adorations.

The dream is short lived, however.

"C'mon, gorgeous," Soap goads, "Let's make sure we're all perfect for our boy."

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ashwhowrites · 3 months

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Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, maybe she was gonna go to the table at the woods to spend some time with Eddie when she saw Chrissy there and she thought that they were flirting so she ends up storminess from there and Eddie sees her and tries to tell her to stay but she goes home and cries until she falls asleep. Eddie goes to her house and talks with her and explains things and they end up cuddling

I hope this is what you wanted and you like it. Thank you for requesting! 🫶🏻

The look

Eddie and Y/N haven't been together for that long, just a few short months. Before they got together, word spread that Eddie and Chrissy were beginning to get closer. Of course, nothing happened between the pair, Chrissy had a boyfriend. Eddie hung around with Chrissy as friends, which brought Eddie and Y/N together. Y/N felt like a high school girl around Eddie....which she was, but he made her all gushy.

Chrissy was the last girl on Eddie's mind when he met Y/N. The pretty cheerleader had him smitten in seconds. Sure, he used to like Chrissy and wished something could have happened. But he had a real connection with Y/N, he felt things with her that he didn't know existed.

Y/N sat bored at lunch, she knew Eddie was out doing some type of deal because he walked off to the woods. She touched her lips, remembering the soft teasing kiss he left. Why miss him if she could go find him?

She threw away her trash and skipped out of school. She couldn't wipe the big smile on her face as she filled with excitement to spend time with Eddie. But as she walked to the opening, she saw Eddie wasn't alone. Chrissy was across from him, giggling into her hand and swatting Eddie with the other. Y/N felt her stomach turn uncomfortably as Eddie chuckled back with a big smile.

Y/N stood silently and watched. Their body language seemed to be flirty. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Eddie had this look of adoration in his eyes. Y/N gulped as she went to turn around, not watching her step as she stepped on a large branch.

The noise caught Eddie and Chrissy's attention, Eddie smiled as he saw his girlfriend.

"Hey, baby! Come over," Eddie smiled, but it dropped when he saw the water in her eyes.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt your date, Munson." She sneered and marched off. Eddie was quick to get off the bench.

"Don't be silly, it is not a date" He said softly as he walked after her.

"Leave me alone!" she snapped and raced back to school.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think she would be upset," Chrissy said, she was worried for her friend. She felt sad that Y/N would even think she or Eddie would hurt her like that.

~~~

Eddie realized at the end of the school day that Y/N left. He spent every hour running to her classes to see where she went. Eddie didn't waste a second to race out of the parking lot and drive to Y/N's house.

Y/N groaned as she felt someone shaking her body. She felt like her eyes were glued shut from all the crying she did. She found a way to flutter them open, and she saw Eddie standing above her.

His frown deepened as he saw the puffiness to her red eyes.

"Oh sweetheart," he sadly sighed and sat next to her on the bed. He leaned down and softly kissed her lips.

She didn't kiss back, still hurt from his earlier actions. He pulled away as he felt her stiffness.

"Can I explain?" He whispered, his fingers played through her hair to help her relax. She nodded and closed her eyes. She melted into his soft touch.

"Chrissy and I are just friends, I only see her as a friend and she sees me as a friend. I love being with you, and I really like you. We were just hanging out." Eddie explained.

"You gave her that look," Y/N argued. She kept her eyes closed as the words felt like a blow to her gut.

"What look, my girl?" He asked, his finger under her chin as he tried to get her to open her eyes.

"Like she was the only girl you've ever seen. Like you were in love with her." Y/N whimpered, salty tears started to run down her cheeks. Eddie could feel the tears hitting his fingers.

"I'm not in love with her."

"Then why did you give her the look?" Y/N snapped, she opened her eyes and shoved Eddie away from her. She sat up and glared at him. She ignored the sad kicked puppy look on his face.

"I don't know what look!" He defended.

Y/N scoffed and grabbed a pocket mirror on her bedside and shoved it in his hands. "Talk about her." She snapped.

"What?" Eddie was confused as he looked into the mirror.

"Talk about her and watch your stupid eyes light up like a Christmas tree."

Eddie sighed and did what she asked. He talked about their friendship. Y/N grew irritated as his eyes never changed.

"Now you are hiding it!" She spazzed and stood up.

"I can't hide a look! I don't know what you are talking about!" Eddie laughed in confusion.

"What do you like about her?" She pushed further, she threw the mirror on the bed and stared right into Eddie's eyes.

"I like that she's my friend." Eddie shrugged.

"What do you like about me?"

Eddie perked up the question, a smile on his face. "I like everything. I like the color of your hair and how bright your eyes get. I like the feeling of your skin and how you smell. I like when we kiss, and do the other stuff." He said with a wink at the end.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes but then she saw the look in his eyes.

The look of adoration.

"what were you and Chrissy talking about?"

"You." Eddie said with a smile.

"When I saw you? You were talking about me?" She asked for clarification.

"Yes, baby. I was talking about our date from the other night. When we went on the rollercoaster and I puked behind that mom and baby."

Y/N laughed as she remembered the event. Chrissy must have laughed too, and that's what she saw. The look of adoration wasn't because Chrissy was there, but because he was talking about her.

"I'm sorry. I got jealous and got in my head." Y/N sighed, she walked and sat in Eddie's lap. She wanted to feel his body against hers. He happily wrapped his arms around her.

"It's okay. I get jealous too." He admitted. "But I only want you."

"I only want you too."

Eddie set her aside to lay her down, then he cuddled up next to her.

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 3 months

Text

thinkin about ex-husband keegan p russ.

thinkin about how there's no way he doesn't show up at your front door within hours of the first ODIN attacks.

keegan fucking russ standing at your door at three in the morning without so much as a cursory greeting. makes you pack a suitcase with whatever bare essentials you can't live without. there's a lot of arguing involved but not a lot of conversation, as usual. you talk, sure, and he listens, nods, and then looks at his watch and says you need to move your ass or he's gonna move it for you.

next thing you know, you're in his passenger seat and he's driving you to his military base six hours away.

he doesn't bother to explain anything, but he does bother to ask you what happened to that fiance of yours.

you give him a heated look, one that says you're ready to square up. defensive, aren't you. that tells him what he wants to know and he scoffs, adjusting his one-handed grip on the steering wheel. good riddance.

you're one of the few civilians on base. you try to be civil with keegan, but falling into old habits is too fucking easy. you and keegan married young--it was a boot camp wedding for the benefits--and the marriage itself wasn't good. well--parts of it, certain parts, were good. really good.

none of it was healthy, mind you. just this cycle of arguing all day and then settling the argument in bed all night. sometimes well into the next day. you couldn't go twelve hours without picking a fight, and he couldn't let it go. not without putting you on your back and railing you until you forgot whatever the hell you were mad about.

something about keegan just makes you aggressive. just makes you want to bare your teeth and go for his throat. something about how impassive he is, how hard he is to rattle, makes you want to push him until he reacts.

you're in the perfect situation to piss him off on base by sleeping with some other dude.

or at least that's what you think.

keegan makes sure the other soldiers know you are one hundred percent off-limits. keegan's ex-wife? yeah, none of the other soldiers are gonna touch that with a ten-foot pole.

one or two joke around about how dumb he was to let a bombshell like you divorce his ass, but keegan shuts it down real fucking quick.

then he starts showing up at your door just to give you the chance to pick a stupid fight.

he finds himself pushing you farther and farther, finds himself craving that satisfaction he gets when you turn that heated look of pure loathing on him. he wants you to throw your barbs his way. not just the lighthearted teasing you toss out to his teammates--he wants you to lash out at him. give him everything you've got. make it hurt.

if you're glaring at him, belittling him, insulting him, you're not out there flirting with someone else. your attention is his.

he always seems to show up at your door when you're moody and listless. pent up with tension. your method of dealing with it involves this, mm, push and pull he enjoys. sometimes his squadmates send him to your door when they catch attitude from you.

"heard you got on everyone's nerves today," he tells you. "you gonna be a handful?"

you swing the door closed, wanting it to slam in his face, but you find it bangs into his boot instead. he bullies him way inside easily and shuts the door behind him.you skip past asking him what he wants and instead tell him to fuck off. straight to business. he's always liked that about you.

"keep talkin' like that and i'll really start enjoying myself," he tells you.

you retreat just to grab your cigarettes and light one up. he swipes your lighter faster than you can snatch it away.

you quit smoking after the two of you broke up. so did he. and here you both are.

"just came to check on you," he tells you. you both know that's a lie. you both know why he's here, and you both know why you aren't trying any harder to send him away. "you could use some friendly company."

you tell him in no uncertain terms that he's not friendly company.

he flips open a carton of cigarettes--your carton, you realize with a start. you didn't see him take it. he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up, but pockets the carton, a wry little smirk on his face.

"don't act like you hated it last night."

you snatch the cigarette out of his mouth and tell him he'd better not say a goddamn word about last night.

"sure, baby," he tells you, he watches your lips intently as you take a drag of his cigarette. "you know I can keep a secret."

...

this is on you @keegansshark

more Keegan / masterlist tag

#ex husband keegan #mine #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod ghosts #keegan #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #keegan p russ x reader #keegan p russ x you #snippet #keegansshark

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chastiefoul · 1 year

Text

regret pt. 2 | alhaitham

a/n: soooooooooo, this was a bit overdue.. hahaha... i apologize for the delay but it's here now!! short disclaimer though, if you expect a make up and lovey dovey scene on this one it's not happening sadly. this end up being more of a character study of the scribe somehow? like i was really going in there with his pov, but of course this esentially is the continuation of the part one so i hope you all enjoyed and sorry for being so late!!!! (more of a/n at the end!)

3k words!!! (wasn't kidding when i said i really went in there)

summary:

alhaitham's own emotion and how he dealt with it proved to be an obstacle for himself. how deep does his regret truly runs?

read part one here!

alhaitham didn’t know before that the world could be this... quiet.

no, it’s more accurate to say that he couldn’t appreciate silence as he used to. there are pieces of you remaining across his day. at his office, on his way to lunch, the tavern, and even when he closed his eyes, persistently, you’re there. however those weren’t real, not anymore, since he himself was the one who had driven you away rather horribly.

and he shouldn’t regret it, he really shouldn’t. but he did.

he let out a sigh yet again, resting his eyes as he leaned back on his chair.

alhaitham hated vexatious things, especially stuff that had nothing to do with him. you, used to fell into this category. someone he shouldn’t bother with or care about, but you kept slithering in breaking what he thought was a solid wall. and uncharacteristically, he kept letting you. perhaps at a life-threatening moment where he had to tell the truth to live, he could consider admitting that he did not hate the way you smiled while you greeted him, or the way your eyebrow crinkled slightly with worry when you saw the piled up paper he had to tend on certain days. and even your lovable little pout when he told you he had skipped his meals. and it’s only now he realized that his useless pride wasn’t something worth holding onto if in exchange he would be missing all of these.

these bothersome yet endearing memories that refused to get out of his head. that he refused to forget.

and to think your last memory of him was him being so heartless—wait, come to think of it. was he ever nice towards you? was there ever a time where he didn’t treat you so cold?

alhaitham was stunned when he couldn’t find a positive response to both question. he felt like his heart was being clenched tightly. he had no choice but to go back to work, forced to stop his train of thoughts before he was overwhelmed.

it all had become so troublesome. too troublesome.

❀

alhaitham also had no idea how small the chance was of running into you, even though you both work at the same place. it’s news to him that if you hadn’t come to him all the time, you wouldn’t even be meeting at all.

the regret he felt just keep piling up.

now alhaitham found himself out from his office more often; in the library, or just walking around randon hallways to take a breather, these were all solely for the purpose that perhaps he would run into you. even just a glance for the briefest second, he thought he would be happy with just that. however it proved to be difficult since he hasn’t seen even a single strand of your hair for the past week.

and that’s when it happened, he saw a familiar figure walking towards him, it was like a slow-motion, something that he had been waiting to happen. alhaitham’s inside was all thundering, he knew he’s been missing you, but he didn’t know it was this bad.

but all of that nerves and excitement died down as quick as it came, as you walked past him without sparing even a single glance. turns out you were just rushing to get to the hall behind him. the silver-haired man could only stand there, witnessing your back until it disappeared at the very last second at a turn. his stomach churned in the worst way possible.

that nonchalant, ignorance, reminded him of nothing but himself. he now realized that he’s way past a stage where a single apology would fix everything he’s done.

❀

alhaitham went home with a heavy feeling inside of his chest. it’s been that way for too many days now.

he thought pushing you out of his life was the hill he was going to die on, but he played himself. he grew accustomed to a world with you now he thought going back to his old routine was something he wanted. turns out far from it.

he needed you.

he arrived, and as alhaitham opened the door, he never expected the sudden hit on his right jaw, making him staggered as his back touched the door. “you deserved that one, and i think you know that,” kaveh said. alhaitham couldn’t even react; ah, (y/n) has told him all about it, then.

alhaitham who had no energy left from the lack of sleep and meals held his jaw carefully, sliding down the wall and sat on the floor. he wasn’t in any way hurt badly, since obviously he had a stronger physique than the blond, but the other part inside of his chest ached. as kaveh said, he deserved that one. although it’s a bit infuriating that the architect was the one who did that, alhaitham also knew that you’d never be able to do that to him. not that your strength was the problem, it’s just that you’re so very kind, even to people that don’t deserve it.

then if what it took to see you smile at him again was a punch to the face, he’d put his as a target gladly.

alhaitham was in a daze, couldn’t even bring himself to retort the harsh welcome, he’s just quiet. which was very unusual.

“what should i do?” he finally mumbled. “what?” kaveh widened his eyes at the response. “what can i do.. to fix this?” that was very surprising coming from the prideful man, kaveh had doubts that the man in front of him was really his room mate. but kaveh only sighed, and lent out his hand. “get up, let’s talk.”

after the scribe finished putting an ointment to the bruise, they both sat on the dining table. there was no noise for a while, until alhaitham decided to break that. “how is (y/n)?” he treaded carefully. “good actually, now that they’re free from a weight that’s dragging them down.” kaveh spat, the grey-haired man made a blank look. “-is what i liked to say. however they’re not doing very well.” his expression turned into something of a deep concern for a friend. “how so?” alhaitham’s voice too, spiked with worries. something that kaveh wasn’t really familiar with that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “you’re really a funny guy. now you’re worried? after treating them like that?” kaveh said, astonished by the audacity of his roommate.

“i’m aware that all of this is my fault.” alhaitham clenched his fist tightly, he didn’t need anyone to remind him that he was at fault, he never allowed himself to forget that. “i mean, how could you alhaitham?!” just thinking about it made kaveh blood boiled once more. you who had treated everyone so kind, especially alhaitham since he knew you had feelings for the scribe, and for him to trample on all of that, it was all just too much, too miserable. kaveh wasn’t stopping there. “to think they were just offering assistance too. if you don’t want help, then say no, don’t lash out like a goddamn child!” the blond was beyond worked up, you were such an important friend to him. “we know dealing with emotions isn’t your forte, but that was low, alhaitham. even for you.” kaveh finally finished his piece. sometimes the architect wondered with how alhaitham talked and how blunt he was, a hit to the face should’ve been something he’s used to getting—or at least the attempt to, since we all knew he wasn’t a weak guy.

alhaitham could only agree, it was all true what kaveh has said. “i know! i know i messed up really badly, that’s why allow me to be shameless and ask for your help. i really regret it,” the sword-wielder meekly said. kaveh relented slightly at the sincere words he spouted once in a blue moon. he relaxed back into the chair, realizing that he needed his head to be in the right place to get through this conversation. silence loomed over them once more.

“why were you so worked up everytime you talked to them anyway?” kaveh asked, his tone solemn. alhaitham seemed to be pondering for a moment, “i... don’t know,” he said slowly, his eyebrow twitched slighly in frustration, once again he was forced to remember how much of a jerk he was to you sometimes. kaveh too, wails with frustration at the response.

he’s hopeless, utterly hopeless!

however the scholar did not stop there, “i was always alone as you know, and i was fine with that. but ever since (y/n) came into my life, i realized that i started to look forward on days i would meet them, i started to find their company very comfortable and that unsettled me.” he finally got to say the truth out loud. “and that fear what was made me so adamant to reject it. i hated the idea that single person could turn my whole life upside down easily like that.”

alhaitham thought he was protecting himself, turns out that that did nothing except hurting you in the process. before lashing out on you, he’s been keen on perusing books he normally avoid, he’d spend his time reading what he thought was unusual titles, in hope that one of them could teach him about the overwhelming sensation he’s been experiencing ever since meeting you. yet none of them succeed. he was having a hard time understanding things that didn’t have reasoning behind it, that didn’t have clear method or formula that provides a precise and accurate solution. he realized he was at a place he wasn’t familiar with, a place where the line of logic is blurred.

how the hell was he supposed to understand it?

“alhaitham, just answer me this. do you like (y/n)?” kaveh asked. alhaitham was stunned for a moment, but surprisingly the answer came easy, but he did not want the blond the hear it for the first time. he wanted you to hear it, no, he needed you to hear it. that he liked you, so so much that literally, literally, he did not know what to do with himself. and that’s when a gear turned on the back of his mind. you needed to hear it. and alhaitham was going to make sure you hear it.

❀

just your luck. it’s just your luck out of all the signature of the people in akademiya, the higher-up told you that you needed alhaitham’s for your project.

just. your. luck.

you knocked on his office, that terrible day flashes on your mind for a second, but you quickly pushed that thought. it’s all gonna be okay, you’re here for pure business, exactly like the way he liked it.

“come in,” a voice replied at the knock. you took a deep breath and went in.

you could see alhaitham’s face was startled for a moment; a brief slip up for the usually emotionless man. but you couldn’t careless, as you set the document on his desk rather urgently. “i need your signature, no need to read through the document as it’s already pre-approved and just needed your agreement for it to proceed.”

alhaitham was quiet as he stalled, wishing to stare at you for that few additional seconds. you had bags under your eye—alhaitham almost reached his hand out to touch over them but he stopped himself. he should know his place.

as soon as the pen left the paper, you snatched it from his desk, and went to make your way out from the hellhole. alhaitham’s shoulder slumped, he knew you’re still mad at him, but to think you’re that bothered just to be in the same room as him. how was he supposed to get you to talk to him?

❀

“good morning, (y/n),”

that’s when it happened. alhaitham on your office with a cup of coffee on his hand first thing in the morning. your jaw dropped slightly, you couldn’t believe your eyes. he put the coffee on your desk. he didn’t react strongly at the lack of response as he didn’t expect you to welcome him. "what are you doing?” you asked, your tone was cold.

“just.. visiting you and thought that maybe you’d like coffee,” he said, even he wasn’t certain of his own words. wasn’t this the same man who had tear you apart just a week ago just because you cared for him? now he wanted to talk you pretending all of that crap didn’t happen?

you laughed loudly, yet it sounded sad. “you must think i’m a joke, alhaitham,” you stated, throwing away the coffee in front of you to the trash bin next to you. the scholar in front of you now looked a little timid, it’s almost pitiful. “no- of course not!” he frantically retorted, “then i’ll ask once again, what are you doing here?” you crossed your arm.

“i wanted to apologize for my actions,” he firmly said, his expression sincere.

oh, is this what’s it all about? it’s regret. something you don’t need, what you need is for him to realize that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. nothing.

he looked restless as he await for your response, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “why are you so nervous about, it’s not like you’re saying sorry to someone close to you or anything like that. anyways, apology accepted. anything else?”

at the stinging words his heart sunk, though his eyes widened at your response, “really?” that easy?

“yeah, now don’t come to this playground anymore, unless it’s strictly for business. good day,” you said, sitting back down getting back to your work. this is all new to alhaitham; feeling of wanting to jump out of the window. your harsh words, how easy it was for you to ignore you in a blink of an eye. and to think he did the same thing to you. no no, he did worse.

the difference is that your actions were justified, considering how much of an asshole he’s been to you. but him on the other hand, treated you just because he was a coward, not having the courage to face his own emotions.

alhaitham never thought he’d be envious of that specific trait of yours but right there as he stood in front of you, he wished that he understood all emotions in this world.

“please, please give me a chance to-“

“alhaitham, for someone as intelligent as you, there’s no way you didn’t understand what ‘strictly for business’ means, right?” you shot him down swiftly.

“just once. please. i won’t ask for anything anymore.” his voice was quiet, laced with utter desperation, that your conscience couldn’t help but respond to it. you were mad, but let’s not stoop to his level. you out of all people, was familiar with pain of being ignored by someone who you wanted to talk the most.

“you have one minute.” you finally relented.

“(y/n). i couldn’t be so shameless and ask you to forgive me, and while this may sound like a really bad excuse, i just wanted you to know that i didn’t mean any single word i said that time. as laughable as it was, i never wished for you to be hurt, especially on words that shouldn’t have meaning, words that i made up as a cowardly defense, words that had zero truth in them. i-i was scared that you changed my world so quickly that my initial reaction was to reject it, even though every time i met you i had nothing but pleasant warmth brimming in my chest. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry that you were hurt because of me.” it was all over the place, it may have missed a lot of points he had made on his head, but it was genuine. at this point with just this apology, alhaitham won’t be greedy and hoped his was accepted, he just wished that the wound on your heart that he had tore with his words would ease even just a little. because he truly, truly regret it.

you weren’t sure what to say, your eyes stopped at a window in the room.

“i.. don’t know what to say, alhaitham. all of this didn’t make the heartbreak i felt that day any less painful,” you mumbled, you could still remember it very vividly. “of course, that wasn’t my intention! i was stupid. i didn’t come here expecting you to welcome me with open arms, i just—very selfishly, realized now that i need you in my life, and i’m going to work very hard so you can at least tolerate that idea as well.” he was visibly stressed, his face filled with guilt. something you never thought he was capable of.

as much as you wanted to just push him away, you couldn’t ignore the emotional struggle he’s been having. you had no idea. though the reason excused nothing, you now had a better understanding of the man who’s standing right in front of you.

you sighed. “things are going to be very different, alhaitham. i sincerely hope you know that i’ll never come to you first again for anything ever. i never wanted to experience something like that again.” you said, setting out clear boundaries that what had happened in the past, was not going to happen for a second time. you’re going to make him work for it.

“i wouldn’t have it any other way. thank you so much (y/n), thank you,” alhaitham said, currently still feeling guilty because he knew the only reason he was getting a second chance was because your boundless kindness. he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he now was going to do everything in his power to accept him back into your life. which was something he did not expect to be easy, but he prefer it this way. he's beyond grateful that you had selflessly given him another chance to fight for you, and he's gonna fight like hell.

now alhaitham had hope. something he doesn’t really say out loud due to its nature being a bit childish, however at that time, he allowed himself to imagine a future with you, and how truly strange it was that the mere image of you being with him could make his stomach fluttered with pure joy.

alhaitham now understood very well that rationality did not work well with love.

and he’s okay with that.

more a/n: i love alhaitham but i wanna see him get punched once for the things he said hahaha..... that aside thank you all so so so so much for the interest on this fic that so many of you guys requested a part 2 :') i wanna say i had a blast writing this one. alhaitham is such an interesting character, especially regarding his relationship with emotions. once again thank you much and i'll be back with fluff soon so look out for that!!!

TAGLIST

@sunsethw4 @michikocoi @sassy-cat-in-town @potatoesenpaii @mis-disaster @bearbae4 @anemohusbando @aquamarine001 @aleahsyyyy @atsukawolfcat @xiao-bedo @r0ttenhearts @milkypompon @lacy-lady @redactedhimbo @vvyeislazzy @pufferfishgolfball @ittosoneandoniwife @levisbebe @silverninja48 @imkaaayy @saeyunn @gookimswife @kisum9 @akinaii @itsmebbyxm @esmegalathynius9 @spicycloudsalad @leche-de-coconut @sunflower124007 @mikismusings @xiamuyi @dancing-hillary @bewhyy @yourdailymemedelivery @lizzhearthz @bubblyjoonjoon @aloveablechaos @mechanicalbeat1 @ailinsano

@veepeepoo @foreshadxw @makiaaa @renjunniex @yyueliang @iruiji @orginiallyann @irisxiel @peskywaffleiron @warrior-of-justice @roguexmoriartea @em0zombie @susvale @vynbin @alisonyus @delightfuldragoncollection @eurooki @skyeblue1737

also should i make a general tag list??????

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader

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originalartblog · 2 months

Text

"Nawy what do you MEAN quick-ish 3D render it's got scratches and everything and I thought this was real for a minute!!"

Well, first, thank you very much that was the intention ❤, and second, you see, all speed is relative, and between finding my references, modeling, texturing and lighting, on top of having to learn how to make convincing gems, it still took me quite a few hours. I, however, cut corners everywhere for speed, and I wouldn't put this piece in a portfolio in its current state.

But! for the curious, I thought I could do a simple breakdown of how the witchcraft happens, without using too much specialized language to make it more accessible. In short,

In this case, I’m talking about a 3D model that was textured (colours and stuff) and then lit (lights on!) to make a pretty final picture. The objective is not to make a tutorial, but to put in simple terms what a 3D artist does to make something go from this, to that:

(people curious and/or trying to see if this interests them welcome)

I'm skipping the 3D modeling part altogether, since it isn't where most of the magic happens here. Just know that to be able to add colour and stuff on a 3D object, you have to go through the process or "unwrapping" it, which is like doing those foldable cubes in reverse

and then we can draw on it!!

Now, the good stuff:

Surfaces (metal, plastic, fabric, wood, skin, etc.) have different looks that make you able to differentiate them on sight. To make something look realistic, you have to try to replicate real life into the 3D world (duh.)

The software developers took care of the hard part (math and coding), so as artists we can play with the parameters available to make something pretty. What those parameters are depend on which "recipe" we're using. One of the most common "recipes" for realistic results is called PBR: Physically Based Rendering, named that way because it's trying to replicate real-life light physics. In this case, the 4 basic parameters are called albedo, roughness, metalness, and normal.

Albedo is the base colour of the surface (easy stuff). Roughness is to determine if a surface is rough or shiny. Metalness is to say if something is made out of metal or not. The normal is there to add all those tiny details you don't want to or can't sculpt on your 3D model (engravings, fabric bumps, etc.)

The roughness and metalness are black and white images because the information you're giving to the software is black = no and white = yes. It's easier to understand in the metalness image, where everything that is NOT a metal is black, and everything that IS a metal is white.

The normal is a bit more complex, but in short, it uses the colours green and red to know what is up/down or left/right, and will help the software fake relief on top of the model. You don't make it by hand; it's computer-generated from other stuff I'm not getting into.

With the technical stuff out of the way, we can actually use these. There are specialized softwares that will let you preview the results of each parameter in real time, so you can see what you're doing easily. This is what I have.

That software comes with some types of surfaces that are already set up, like the fabric in my piece, which was already 85% good for me straight out of the box. Then, it's up to me to use the tools available to decide how shiny a surface is, if there's dust or scratches and where, what colours things are, if there's metal parts, etc. That's where you can see a 3D artist's skills.

And finally, you bring it all together into a specialized software that can render 3D stuff and use those images on the corresponsing parameters, and then light the scene.

Because it all comes down to this: the light! For something realistic, light is vital to get right. You can pour your heart and soul into those tiny scratches, but if you don't light the scene correctly, well...

So we carefully light the scene to get some nice highlights to make the textures look good and highlight our subject (it's basically a photography studio inside a computer)

And then we add some camera effects...

and voilà! pretty picture!!

... and if you somehow did notice something different with the bolo tie from my last post, I did find out while taking all these screenshots that I messed up my initial renders in a way that made everything darker than it was supposed to be and that's why my gold looked so muddy...

I hope this was interesting and that you learned a thing or two!

#welcome to nawy's 3d school for complete beginners #nawy's 3d #technically not art but... you know...

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sil-te-plait-tue-moi · 5 months

Text

The idler wheel is wiser than the driver of the screw.

Quick summary: After one too many drinks, you find yourself unable to think of anything but a certain smart-mouth detective who is in desperate need of a release.

Word count: 11K (I'm sorry)

Warnings: This is basically just SMUTT with a lil feelings (if you squint) sprinkled in there; kind of angsty at points (mentions of canon-typical death and violence (hellooo they're homicide detectives); gets a bit existential at points, watch out; pretentious.

A/N: YAY! I had this obsession with True Detective S1 all throughout October (watched it at my nan's house lmao), so enjoy the lovechild of that. This is just for fun, so, please, nobody be angry at me if they don't agree with Rust's characterisation, or any of the weird philosophical chat, lalallalal, OKAY ENJOY!!

***

The night air is sluggish and humid with the remnants of a warm summer’s rain, pressing down thickly, close, clogging, simmering just below the surface.

A few times, I’ve interviewed people who live in these sorts of places: motel-types, the “in-between”, where folks stay when they’ve either got no money, no choice or nobody. Other residents include passers-by who’re looking to save money on accommodation, skipping on the fancier places. Not that Louisiana really has any “fancier places”. Places without the paint peeling off walls like dead skin, I guess. A bed and breakfast in the nicer suburbia, with a view overlooking a subpar daydream of a ghost town centre.

I’ve leaned up against the crooked, metal railing, felt the influence of my weight almost sending it and myself crashing down onto the faded parking lot beneath. I’ve leaned up there—after knocking—and waited, waited for a grey face to peer through a crack in the cracked door. I’ve smiled and remarked about how the beat-up, brass numbers up there are hanging by a thread. Sometimes, people are real stingy – they slink out and close the door behind them, or they remain in that little slit, just an eye visible, or they plain shut it in my face. Most let me in right away, maybe a little intimidated by the shiny badge clipped up in my jacket – I’ve sat across from ‘em, felt that mud in the room’s air seep into my pores, inviting me under its still swamp.

Seems like the sort of place for him.

Too many a fuckin’ time, Marty’s come grumbling and muttering into the office kitchen, rolling his eyes, scoffing, huffing, the whole lot. And when I ask him why the strop?—“Ancient fuckin’ philosopher fuckin’ Rust Cohle on it again. Birthday’s comin’ up: get me earplugs and a generous bit o’ duct tape for my dear partner over there, would you?”

Or somethin’ along those lines.

For all his apparent talk about us silly, little “biological puppets”, this seems like Rust’s sort of place. Temporary existence, temporary living. Purgatory?

Whatever.

If you ask me, Rust Cohle’s head is so far up his own ass that it’s no wonder his outlook on life is so dark.

If I was more sober, maybe I’d be thinking about it—about him—less—but this night out has had me so drunk I was maybe even hallucinating at some point. Rust?—sure, he’s been in the back of my mind for some part of the last few months – I have to see him most days I go to work, don’t I? – but, sometime in the space between my third and fourth shot of straight vodka, he was suddenly at the very front of it. I’d seen a guy who smoked like him: cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger, a simple, deep drag. I’d thought it was him, but then I realised his face was shrouded in the smoke that he’d exhaled, and I recalled that Rust never seems to do that. Never seems to exhale. All the tar and shit stays in.

With a twist of my keys, the engine rumbles off into more-or-less silence. Fuck, it’s a bad idea, yes, just being here. If he likes to keep his distance, well—he’s entitled to that choice.

I glance over my shoulder, out the window, out at the complex which is all yellow and shining, illuminated by buzzing halogen light bars and, of course, the occasional bug zapper. It’s clean enough. The lines of this parking space were white enough. Apartment 11A, said Marty. Second floor.

“Are you drunk?” he’d asked – Marty, not Rust.

I’d replied, “No,” pressing closer to the phone box in attempts to remove myself from the swarm and bustle of the ladies’ bathroom. And it was an honest reply. Sort of. Despite his scepticism, by that time, I’d long stopped drinking, and all that remained from it was a sort of numb tingle in my fingertips—as far as I was concerned.

I don’t think I’d be in this parking lot, stepping out of my car, if I wasn’t still a little bit gone.

Marty’s sigh had crackled through the receiver. “Don’t bring any o’ tha’ party-this-party-that attitude to ‘im, alright? He’ll hate it.” I’d told him okay, my stomach spiking up with excitement. “Fact is, I don’t think you should go at all. ‘f you do, should be a work matter. This a work matter, detective?”

I’d lied, said yes, perhaps with a slur to my voice.

He clicked his tongue. “Okay, buck, whatever you say.” Then, he’d hung up.

There was something disapproving in the manner of the conversation. I got the feeling that he was talking to me in the same voice he used to lecture his daughters. The only reason I’d called him was to get something from him, sure, so that I could basically get something from Rust, his partner. I could see how that sort of thing might’ve upset someone. Not that Marty Hart should have any right to judge, not when he’s coming into work in the same clothes as the day before, stinking of sweat and God knows what. The unsaid agreement of everyone in the office is to turn a blind eye. I’ve met his wife. Someone should cut off his damn dick.

Quiet, now. Hell, who am I to talk? Marty’s fun to chat with, makes a slow day at the office a little brighter. ‘Course, there’s rarely a slow day at the office.

And I’m at the top of the stairs, now. And I knock—one, two, three—on the pilling, forest-green door. Dulled down 11A. Blinds are determinedly shut, slats flat. For a second, I think maybe I’ll be waking him.

Then I remember Rust doesn’t sleep.

A grey face appears as the door swings just a little ways open, grave and sunken-tired. His expression isn’t so pissed-off as it is just his usual expression.

“Rusty,” I say to him with a small nod, words scraping out dryly.

He doesn’t respond right away – ‘stead, he leans his body out partway, eyes absent like he’s searching for some hooligan criminal in the night.

“Marty told you my address?” he asks lowly. It’s more a statement than anything, but I amuse him with a nod anyways. There’s a cigarette flaring up between his fingers. His hand twitches a little like he’s wanting to take a drag, but his eyes are fixed on my shoes, now, like he’s still coming to terms with the fact I’m a foreign body in his domain.

My toes curl up tight in my shoes – there’s that prick of anticipation again. Ice-cold, you could easily mistake it as dread.

Rust doesn’t exactly subject me to an imploring look—not really his style—but he bows his head down just slightly – that’s sign enough for me. He wants to know why I’m here, and he no doubt wants to know the quickest way to be rid of me.

I sigh. I ask him.

My body trembles, and he notices it, records it, stores it away for later reference, for some other time he’ll find that it and me will contribute to his purpose.

Rust has a face of stone. I get to know it well as I search for a sign there that might let me know what lies beneath. But, of course, a statue is solid through and through. Sharp angles and smooth planes carved hollow. If he’s cold to the touch, I’d like to reach out and be sure. Is he cold where a man ought to be warm? Christ, it makes my pulse jump just to think about it.

There is no greater purpose or cruel intention underlying my words, as far as I’m concerned. Rust, however, lingers there, with his arm up on the door, barricading the entrance, while he peels back and flits over every layer of possible meaning, his attention fixed absently on my left ear.

He then looks at me—briefly—in the eyes, with a sort of paralysing intensity. Even the tingling in my fingers ceases to be.

It takes a moment, pregnant with the chorus of cicadas, crickets and other night-creatures, before he steps back neatly to allow me in.

The door clicks softly behind me as I enter into a room that’s bare as bare can be.

Rust grunts, coming up around me and into the kitchen area. “Want anything?” he mumbles around his cigarette, other hand shoved in his pocket. He’s still half-dressed in his work clothes, his tie strewn on the counter, his blazer slumped over a rickety picnic chair perched up in front of a wall of crime scenes and dead bodies. My eyes linger there—how can they not?

“A beer,” I tell him, still looking at those photographs, then at the stacks upon stacks of books. Philosophy, ethics, religion. Names I’d expect only those with PhDs to know.

“Don’t think you’ve had ‘nuff to drink already?”

I shoot him a look. “I think I can handle it, Rust.” He straightens up, raises his brow. I snort, reasoning, “I’ll only have one.”

“One,” he agrees, opening up the fridge and having a rummage around.

White walls and all of them empty, like some sort of psych ward. Half-sure Rust actually did do some time in that type of care, though, so—shouldn’t make any quips about that. I don’t want him thinking I think he’s crazy – he gets enough of that, I’m sure.

Back at my place, though, I’ve got posters or drawings or paintings up around every corner. My niece’s drawing of a mermaid sits on my dresser, and photographs of my family are displayed in the hallway. One up by the TV, I painted myself when I was in high school. About two years after I graduated, they asked if I wanted my portfolio back, and I’d obviously said yes. And I love my stuff! Some ‘cause it’s pretty, others because of memories and whatnot. Guess some people don’t have that creative trait, or they lose it. Or maybe they detest the sentiments, those strings that have been, are and will be attached to things. When my cousin broke up with her boyfriend, she cut her hair and burned his clothes. “I just want to forget him,” she’d snarled. I’d sputtered a laugh into my tea.

Rust plants a Corona down on the counter, already cracked open.

There’s no mirror in here either – I can’t check whether I look as desperate as I feel. When I focus back on him, Rust is taking a swig from his own beer, turning to glance at the crucifix pinned above the messy mattress on the floor. Huh. Didn’t peg him as a Christian.

His honey-blond hair doesn’t look cold to the touch, that’s for sure ‘n’ certain. Wonder if he just wakes up like that or what. Once, Marty had been teasing him at work, even cracking a smile out of the old guy. “Ain’t them just the prettiest curls y’ever seen, buck?” he’d remarked, nudging into me, cooing at him. Silently, in my head, even then, I’d agreed: prettiest curls I’d ever seen. Rust hadn’t looked up to chart my reaction, but, if he had, he’d maybe have seen my fidgeting fingers or hitch of breath. Or maybe he felt it, heard it.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” I offer pathetically through a nervous smile.

He blinks, takes another swig, leaning over the counter that separates us. “No, y’aint.”

Jesus, I have to turn my head and shut my eyes for a second. I don’t particularly believe in God, but I ask Him to please give me the strength to resist my urges and act like a normal damn person for at least a few more minutes. And then I apologise for only praying out of convenience. In the face of temptation. This is why people shouldn’t drink – still, doesn’t stop me from downing a good part of my beer.

I turn to the wall and try to turn myself off a little bit. It’s not hard – Rust still has Dora Lange (rest her soul) pinned up on his wall, naked, blue, stiff. I don’t want to know why, so I don’t ask him.

His eyes are adamant on the side of my head. Funny how he never seems to look at me at the same time I’m looking at him. Pisses me off a lot of the time – not just him, but in general. A lot of people share this same fear of not being heard, not being listened to and not being cared about. Men in particular, I’ve noticed, have a tendency to raise their voice over others’, to yell or shout or hit things or push ‘n’ shove. Marty’s that way – a lot of men at the precinct are, too. Women who are raised to be the listeners sometimes act out in the same way, frustrated at all the things they have to care about that men don’t, burdened with manners and politeness. I used to hate having to listen, to wait for the man who interrupted me to finish speaking. Rust always lets people finish their point, for better and for worse. Pisses me off in a different type of way. I can feel his judgement seeping out of him, so potent that’s it’s tangible, lapping at my feet.

He doesn’t push and shove – he’s a listener, too. Of course, he has that male privilege where his silence has a gravity, a magnetic pull, where mine is simply as is. At least he pays attention. Sure, on the surface, it might look like he doesn’t care at all, hunched over a case file at his desk, back turned to me and the rest of the lot, but proximity has its power – assigned workspaces put with his personality, and he knows what’s like and unlike me better than my sister. He’s reading into my refusal to talk, to face him – unlike me.

“So, you’ve given this some thought, then,” Rust says matter-of-factly, and my tummy bubbles up.

I snicker nervously, heart racing. God, I’d expected surprise, disbelief, outright refusal, maybe even a little disgust, but, when I manage to turn around and look at his face again, it just seems to me like a calmness. Stoicism found in the affirmation, maybe, of his expectations. It’s like I’m walking right into one of those little theories of his: a proved hypothesis.

I take another sip from my beer, feeling too shy for my liking. “Well, yeah,” I drawl, slumping over the kitchen counter and propping my chin up to look right back at him in a surge of liquid confidence. “I always think ‘fore I do anything that’s anything, Rust.”

Almost immediately, he retreats, standing up straight and resting the small of his back against the lip of the sink behind him. He hums, glances away. “We both know that’s a lie,” he combats, hands tucked into his pockets, chin tilted up, eyes down. A mouthful of beer numbs the sting of rejection. “What you mean is you think you can justify all your decisions. You think you can justify why you knocked on my door and said what you said—” he elaborates quietly, eliciting a snort from me, “—but, at the end o’ the day, all your decisions boil down to what you feel is right, not what is right.”

“‘n' you think you ‘n’ you alone know what’s right?”

Slate-grey eyes flit up and down my face, like I’m a specimen on a slide.

“I think that the girl who’s stumbled up on a fella’s door asking him to fuck her is less inclined to know, without bias, what’s right, yes.”

I swallow thickly, sucking the remaining flavour of beer off of my tongue before going in for another swig.

Christ.

Not a single bat of his eyes. Not a quiver of his mouth, not a twitch to his nose, not a morsel of natural, human hesitation. Does he have to be so crass? I did the courtesy of making it palatable, at least to my own ears, with a euphemism. But when have I ever known Rust Cohle to water anything down? No drink I’ve ever consumed will match his body’s preference of alcohol content. He’s nursing his beer close to his chest, but who knows what poisons lay dormant in these cabinets?

“Rusty,” I say lowly, maybe asking for a break – I close my eyes for just a second, part because I couldn’t bear it if I caught some sort of disapproval on his face, and part because it’s just past two o’clock in the morning.

Late nights have consumed my life recently, what with that sicko rapist connected to a Christian fertility cult. Children of God – “go forth and multiply”. His confession had turned my blood cold. Johansson had offered to sit in the box instead, but I did it anyway. I went home and cried over it, then came into work the next day to talk to some press and then receive my new assignment.

He hums, taking a drag from his cigarette, swallowing the smoke down. Rust knows how it is. To be honest, I’m probably the one who doesn’t know the half of it. One night at the office, he’d casually confessed to his insomnia, like he was just commenting on the state of the weather ‘n’ nothin’ else. So, I guess I won’t pretend to get it.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “Are you into that whole abstinence thing?”

The weak light above flickers gently as he pauses, turns the question over in his mind. Anyone else would’ve surely laughed.

“I believe that man is susceptible to desire, yes—but he can resist it and its consequences should his willpower be stronger than the false promises posed by that temptation.

I snort again, because, now, I really am tipsy, and I can’t hold in my attitude any longer. It’s not that I think he’s lost it or whatever. It’s just—he’s so—objectively—absurd. Well—“objectively”. He’s got points, but those points lose all meaning in the spiralling darkness of overthought and deep contemplation wherein he’ll explain that everything really means nothing—and he’ll be right about that, sure, but also unintentionally prove a point about himself. I’d ask him what it means when, in a world where everything means nothing, a child will give their friend a flower found on the way to school, but I feel like his answer would be too morbid for my liking. Does that make me an unreliable source? The fact that I want to live?

He's absurd. He’s also a little bit awry in the head. Don’t know what he’s lost or what he’s lookin’ for, but it’s not a good look on him. He’s honest, yes – that’s a good trait. But honesty without kindness is cruelty. And he is kind – underneath, he’s kind, and I know that because of how hard he works to weed out evil people in this world, most times at his own risk. That’s kindness, albeit unconventional, whether he realises it or not.

The kindness almost cancels out his arrogance.

“So, what?” I challenge under the guise of a teasing grin. “You can go mouthin’ off for hours on end about how up themselves religious people and all’at are, but you can’t draw the similarities between their philosophy and your philosophy? How does that work, Rust?”

While I was working that Children of God nightmare of a case, he just couldn’t seem to restrain himself – every bullshit word that left him revealed to me his hubris. Now, I’m not angry, and he’s not stupid – we’re not arguing. In fact, he seems intrigued, lean body shifted toward me. He sets his beer down on the counter, crosses his arms over his chest after securing his cigarette between his lips, and lowers his head as if to listen to me better.

I sigh, continue. “D’you know what I think? I think you oversimplify humanity. You’re a great detective—‘nd I guess you know it—and, within the confines of your job, it serves you well, makes you good in the box. But your assumptions are too general. People are who they are, sure, but they also decide to be those people. By their environment and those who surround ‘em, people make the decisions that define ‘em. A lot of the time, their circumstances ain’t fair. People born into badness are trapped by the badness—either physically, or up in their heads—and they have a tough time escapin’ it.”

Rust inhales the smoke again, the only evidence of it happening being the soft whisp that curls away from his nose. I wonder to myself how his lungs are still standing.

“‘s that how you explain that—homicide case you’re workin’ on?” Three-year-old boy died of neglect, his siblings found locked in cabinets, one in a dog cage, by their mother and stepfather. Rust’s eyes flash silver. “Killer had a tough time?”

Asshole.

I narrow my eyes dangerously. “Don’t be mean, Rusty,” I scold, and he blinks in concession. “I think evil exists. I think it’s complicated. I think you summarise things that ought not to be summarised.”

He’s silent for a heartbeat. Then, his hand comes up to pinch away his cigarette, and he waves it in a small flourish, explaining, “When I say “people”, I mean society. Human culture.”

“Last I checked, Rust, you don’t know everybody on the planet. You don’t know their “culture”, or experiences.” That seems to shut him up. My eyes wander to his broad shoulders, trail along the meat of his arms beneath the cheap, polyester shirt that hugs close to the muscle, and they linger there like the quiet that settles between us.

He nods slowly, once. “Our decisions define us?”

I bob my head, unabashedly staring at the elegant column of his throat, his neck, and the stretch of tan skin that is settled beneath the white undershirt revealed by the first one, two, three buttons which have recently been undone.

He’s quieter when he asks me, “Well, how does this decision define you, then?” There’s nothing malicious about the way he says it, or even lustful – just a calm curiosity.

“Ain’t it obvious?” I grin again, laugh a little, blush hotly. “I’m horny!” I hide my face in my shoulder, trying to compose the hiccups of laughter in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I snicker, wiping my palm over my brow, my eyes. “This probably isn’t very attractive to you.”

“You’re a very pretty girl,” he replies. He mutters my name solemnly, like we’re in a formal meeting or something.

I glance up, check whether he’ll offer me eye contact again, but he doesn’t – he’s staring at the wall, lost.

I scoff. “You’re a very pretty guy, Rust.”

God willing, none of the boys at the precinct will ever find out about this. If Marty lets it slip that I even asked for Rust’s address, then I’ll never hear the end of it. Worse, everyone’ll think I’m dead-gone over him. Guess I don’t really fit the standards expected of women around here: “wife”, or “whore”. Or “dead”. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously going about pretending I’m not interested in sex at all. Once sex comes into the equation, I’ll be reduced to that and nothing else.

Anxious, I start flicking up under my fingernails. Is Rust already starting to think those things, too? I’m a great detective, but that’s the only capacity in which he’s really known me.

I wring the neck of my bottle. “I should explain—”

He holds his hand up, stating, “I don’t need you to. Do you feel the need to?”

Curious, wary, I watch his face, a blank slate. Still waters run deep. My eyes drift down, to where his hands are together in front of him, one relaxed beside him the other curled around his wrist with two fingers resting on the pulse.

“No,” I reply.

“You thought it over,” he says, eyes tilting up at the ceiling, aloof, bored, maybe. His words are sort of monotone, like he’s reciting a passage from a book that he’s just recently read: “You chose me because you know me. You haven’t been sleeping well. You’re stressed, you’re scared, you’re frustrated.” He blinks. “You’re attracted to me due to some—unfortunate trigger beyond your control in the reptilian part of your brain.” Brief as the flicker of a candle in a still room, he looks over me, brow raised slightly as if daring me to tell him that he’s wrong. He pauses again, takes a short puff. “It makes you think I can take care o’ your needs.”

Look at the state of him: sallow and wilting on the inside. Reducing me down to a sentence or two, and being right about it.

“Well, can you?” I ask weakly, feeling small. He looks over me, blinks blankly. “How do you take care of your needs?” No reply. “You do have needs, don’t you?” I remark, tapping the rim of my bottle to my warm temple. “Programming ‘n’ whatnot.”

He tilts his head away in dismissal.

I smile, more to myself than to him. “Beat off in the shower, is it?”

For a second, Rust is still. My eyes grow heavy, admiring the strong profile of his nose. He then nods helplessly, like there’s no point in trying to lie.

I hum, a soft, self-satisfied smirk edging its way onto my face. “Must feel like a sin,” I snicker.

He squints slightly, like he disagrees with my logic, but does not interrupt to protest.

“I remember takin’ baths as a teenager and double-checkin’, triple-checkin’ I locked the door,” I confess. “Couldn’t take my time. ‘S that how it is for you, Rust?” I probe, tilting my head to the side, losing his eyes as quickly as I catch them. “You ever let yourself enjoy it? Let yourself want it—?”

“I don’t want it,” he snaps quietly.

“But your programmin’ says you do, right?” I point out, scrambling to hold onto the flaw in his argument. I search his face, my own bright, eager.

He quirks up a miraculous smile, and I myself burst into a wide grin. Still smiling—though, you’d have to admit, it’s such a strange sight, sort of gratifying, almost patronising—he shifts his weight between his feet, scratches at his nose with his pinkie, sniffs, takes a long drag of his dying cigarette. I know he must feel disjointed, though he doesn’t show it: he’s misstepped, and I’ve caught him. And how often does Rust Cohle misstep? I should’ve checked the news for a blue moon tonight.

Interested, now, is he? Breathing quietly, rolling his jaw – he’s entertaining the competition I have goin’ up in my head. From the looks of the gentle smirk on his face, he’s enjoying it, too.

“No,” he corrects with a dry husk to his voice. “No, I know what I want, and, when I think those things are necessary or useful, I know how to get them.”

In this type of context, I’d like to see him try. Though, he is an undeniably attractive man. Thick, solid all the way through, like a rich wood. But he’s got these brittle eyes: fraying.

He continues: “Most of the time, though, what we want is born out of dangerous feelings, like rage or lust. Ruminating on the consequences of those potential actions seems to me the more sensible thing to do than to just leave it and find out.” I sniff. “Desire is inescapable for most, including the sexual kind. I feel it—“ he eyes how I wriggle beneath my skin, “—you feel it. But it can be resisted. You’re lettin’ it dictate what you do ‘n’ say. If I do to you what you want me to, have you thought about how it might affect things down the line? Tomorrow, next week, next month—?”

“Yes,” I hiss, a little too emotionally, such that a gleam of satisfaction crosses his grey eyes at the strain and stretch of my voice. Christ. Desperate much?

I take several seconds to think before allowing myself to speak again, all while staring at him straight on and refusing to look away: I’d just die if I let him catch me out. “Well, how can you be sure of the fallout? How do you know the good won’t outweigh the bad? Not “you” specifically, but, also, yeah, “you” specifically. I can think about something morally ambiguous, and I can evaluate the potential consequences, and, just as you are satisfied to observe, I will decide to follow through with this somethin’ and deal with what I gotta deal.”

He sighs. “Because decisions define a person?”

I tuck my hair tight behind my ears. “Yes.”

And he hums – that beautiful noise resonates in my stomach before sinking down there, low, its weight a comfort. “I agree with you in that respect,” he admits.

A laugh erupts out of me like the sputter of an engine. Luckily, I’m easy to laughter – it’s like me, as is my genuine grin. “Rust Cohle’s agreein’ with me on somethin’?—Call the police!”

“We are the police,” he replies smartly, watching me snort and smile and grow flushed in the face. I feel very grateful to that beer – at least my giddiness can be blamed on the effects of alcohol and save me from embarrassment.

As I simmer down, he looks away, adds, “I agree to an extent. People all think that they’re one-of-a-kind. That they make these—amazing decisions. They speak and do and walk and play and work and fuck and eventually die – all of ‘em.”

“You’re part of the people,” I argue.

He hums, nodding in acceptance. “Yes.”

“If a person acts due to their instinct, whether it’s succumbing to it or fighting against it, then isn’t man simply his programming?” He lowers his head. “You can be aware of it, and you can be a part of it, too. Who are you to deny yourself the good parts?”

He fiddles with his cigarette, svelte fingers nimble and acute. I cross my legs, flex my hips; he notices.

“Because of the consequences,” he replies, a soft whisper.

I thought that everything meant fuck-all?

For someone who sees no meaning in life, he sure seems to spend a lot of time contemplating it. Here, I thought I’d have hot hands sliding all over me, gripping, spreading, pushing, but instead find myself defence in an unprecedented debate.

Rust is breathing slower, deeper, almost unable, now, to look me in the eyes, even look at me in general, whereas, before, it had been a choice, whether that choice be conscious or unconscious. His cigarette burns weakly in his fingers, forgotten. The muscle in his jaw flexes, his expression hollow.

My body buzzes with want, leaves me scrambling for breath like I’ve just run a race. I want. I want, I want, I want. The rough pads of his fingertips, the surest and most confident I’ll have ever known. Sharp tongue, quick and precise. Something about how he smells. All my compliments to pheromones – even in the heavy musk of the bar, I’d smelled him, ashy, warm, alive, and now it’s wreathing all around. Or maybe that’s just me – it’s like when you try to take someone’s pulse with your thumb, and all you’re feeling is your own heartbeat.

I want – my breath trembles with it.

“Rust,” I say softly. He shakes his head a little, looking away still, vulnerable like a wild animal. I sigh, gnawing at my lip. “I really want it. I—I’ve—it’s not just a rash decision,” I explain. “I’ve wanted it for a while, now.”

He shudders – I notice. “Since when?”

I huff out a sheepish laugh, fix my eyes on my restless hands. “You won’t remember it—”

“I will.”

His voice sounds clogged. It sobers me right up.

“A year back,” I tell him. “You were working at the office—late, in the dark. You called me, and I asked you why, and you said—it was because you were tired and thinkin’.” I glance up to check if he’s maybe looking, but he’s not – he’s turned his head even further away. The soft, gentle curls of his hair tempt me.

Blindly reaching for the bottle, securing it almost immediately, he finishes the rest of his beer, then sets it back down.

“I—” he begins, scratching his nose, “—I was—tired.” He pauses to re-thicken his voice. “And—thinking—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the both of us know what he said that night: Of you. Thinking of you—of me .

My stomach flips, leaving me almost nauseous, just like it did when I first heard those words. At first, I thought I’d misheard, that I was so tired my mind was playing tricks on me. Then, I thought he was being cruel, or maybe he was drunk. Those two instances weren’t—aren’t—unlike him, but he never, ever calls to be mean or to be stupid. He’d been quiet and warm through the phone after that, a presence so thick I could’ve sworn he had his arms around me right then. I hadn’t slept well for a time, then, of course, and that made it all the more vivid. His voice had made me shiver all the way through as he told me he had to get back to work.

When I saw him the next morning, I couldn’t look at him. It was the first time I couldn’t, not wouldn’t. It was also the first time I felt him paying attention to me.

I shift, ask the question I’d wondered since that call: “Why?”

A pause.

Then: “You brought me coffee that morning,” he explains softly, speaking to the wall opposite. “I was—looking at the mug on my desk – it was yours. Green one you like to use.” He sniffs. “And…” He teeters on the precipice of that word but does not finish the thought.

Hmm. That’s something to think about. Rust Cohle thinking about me and not picking apart why and why he shouldn’t be. It had been a mindless enough gesture – it’s not unheard of me to be makin’ coffee for other people in the office, not because I have to but because I like to. For the people I can stand, that is: Johansson always, and him for me; Cathleen; Marty, when I’m not pissed off at him; and Rust, from time to time. Everybody knows that green mug is mine, though – nobody touches it, not even the boss. Rust reads far too much into things. Most of the time, he’s dead-on. I should’ve known from the moment I placed that coffee on his desk, from the sharpening of his eyes (that did not spare me a glance) that lingered on my lingering hand on his table, that he knew. Figured out something I hadn’t even quite figured out myself. Not until later that night.

I wonder if he’s ever thought of me when fucking his own hand. I wonder if he thinks about me sometimes, when he can’t sleep, in between horror stories and brutal blows and uncovering the secret truths of the universe. I do, sometimes.

When I push myself back to my feet, stand up, Rust’s attention springs back, and he watches me, looks at me.

Quietly, I relish in the satisfaction of his stare, crossing on light feet to toss my empty beer bottle in the bin. He steps aside to let me open the cupboard under the sink, his hand curled in a loose fist by his side. I’m not trying to tease him – I grant him the space he so clearly needs, retreating about five paces back, leaning slightly myself against the counter.

I could say anything right now, no matter how insane, and he’d treat it with total and utter respect. I could reveal to him the reaction my body has to seeing his fingers fiddle like that with his cigarette, and he’d manage to identify the cogs and wheels in what, when you step back, actually turns out to be a hidden machine. Christ, I could probably remove all of my clothes, stand naked in front of him, and he’d look on as one would look on at a piece of evidence at work. Going over the details, once, twice, scribbling it all down in that big, leather ledger.

Here’s what I think: he needs it. For all his talk about how unoriginal, how predictable mammals are at the end of things, he probably knows that himself. The tension in his jaw, the perpetual tightness of breath. That clipped way of talking he has, wound so tight around himself, like a compressed spring fighting its natural urge to let go.

I could make him let go. Maybe. I wish he’d let me try. It’s nothing possessive, really: wanting to be the one to unravel his tightly coiled body. Just—the release of seeing him be. No thinking in particular – just being.

He is still, however, uncommonly mute, avoiding my eyes.

I sigh. I ask him tentatively, “You think I ought’a be ashamed o’ myself?” biting down on the fleshy inside of my cheek.

“No,” he contradicts.

“But—you think I should be findin’ my fun elsewhere, with—some other guy?”

He sort of pins his hands behind his back, pressing his weight against them there at the edge of the sink. He looks a lot taller from this angle. “I think there’s a lotta fellas stumblin’ over themselves to be with a girl like you.”

“Maybe,” I scoff, “but my reptilian brain don’t want none of ‘em.“ I blush warmly when I glance up and he’s there watching me, though there’s no bashfulness at all on his side of it.

I expect him to maybe dart his eyes away again, like he does, and then walk me to the door, maybe even to the car if I haven’t offended him too badly, and then call it a night. I could stuff it in; I can compartmentalise. Monday would carry on as it always does, except now without the wondering and the yearning and the delusion. Did he have to be so good-looking? His cheap, wrinkled shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows—like they are now—and those lean forearms braced up on the table, caging in the neatly set-out notes scrawled up in his ledger, like they have mind to escape. And he’s—beautiful. He’s tall. Out-of-place sort of tall, where he has this bend to his neck, sometimes, as to not draw attention to himself. Other times, though, he stands to full height, regal, elegant, authoritative, like when he comes out o’ the box.

He sees into people. He feels it all so deeply.

And he’s looking at me, seeing into me, deeply. His eyes are brittle like china pieced back together with store-bought glue. The low light casts long shadows down his neck and harsh face.

“Come here to me, Rust,” I say to him, beckoning him over with a tilt of my head. To my surprise, he does. He does immediately, peeling himself off the counter, eyes drifting somewhere just behind me as if disinterested.

He stubs his cigarette out on an old plate, abandons it there officially, before stepping slowly towards me, feet never dragging, dodging my searching eyes like the plague.

Hmm. Maybe I made a good argument “for” to his “against”. Or maybe he was never “against” to begin with. I’ll watch him carefully tomorrow and see if there was anything I missed.

I reach up and touch his face gently. I used to do this with my husband before he passed, and he’d close his eyes and whisper my name and lean into the touch, tender, loving – my fingers shake slightly with the memory. Rust Cohle does none of that, because he is nothing like my husband. He’s perfectly rigid against my fingertips; his stare flits briefly up right into my soul, his mouth pressed in a hard line. Everything about him is so sharp. The ridge of his cheekbones, the defiant slant of his nose. The lean muscle of his arms and shoulders, slightly sinewy just beneath the skin.

But when I brush my thumbs up along his eyebrows, easing the sharp line between them, he sighs and closes his eyes, neck bowing down, still as stiff as before, just—different. A small gap, an opening, to that locked room of his upstairs.

“Rust,” I whisper, nose brushing his. He hums again, lowly, eyes shut. “What do you think of us havin’ sex?”

“Sex,“ he replies softly, “is the illusion of connection constituted by the release of a mess of happy hormones, simply by touching all the right places—and nothin’ more.”

I hum and watch the look on his face grow brittle as our breaths mingle closely. God, he’s so near to me that my head swings in a bout of lightheadedness, heady, vision centring in on him and only him, such that I wouldn’t know if this place was burning down all around, even if the flames started eating us alive.

“I think you’re full o’ shit, Rusty. Know how I know that?”

He sighs shakily. “How?” It’s like the word is dragged right from the pit of his chest, barely a breath to show for the effort of it.

“I can feel you against my leg.”

He swallows thickly, but he does not blush, and he does not open his eyes. And, contrary to what he might seem, Rust is not cold like stone. When my fingers grow more confident, when they trace and drag lightly along the line of his cheeks, he is warm there. His pulse, when I find it, exists and is hot and slightly erratic, a fact that leaves my mouth dry and open. I can feel the inflexion of his throat as he swallows again, the shift of the skin and the rhythm of his heartbeat, the gentle influence of his breathing.

I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. So, I ask him, “Can I kiss you?” ever so gently.

Softer still, he replies, “Yes,” with that slight Southern whistle of his, barely moving.

Give me strength. Give me strength.

That look on his face is filling me with a delicious, vibrating power. As I stretch my neck up to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth, my eyes are open and watching him, charting him: Rust breathes strongly out of his nose, eyes still determinedly shut, like he’s absent and meditating. He is not tough as stone – parts of him are soft. He barely returns the kiss, but, as far as my brain processes, his lips are soft. Hesitant, maybe.

Then, these soft lips part, and he is sucking in a hot, shuddering breath, capturing me in a deep kiss, as if to breathe all of me in, a strong hand threading through my hair. It hurts a little at first – a small noise escapes my throat at the slight shoots of pain tugging at the roots – but Rust doesn’t seem to notice. Not at first. No, he’s still breathing me in. His lips are dry, rough, a push and tug, a twist, and he’s kissing like a punch, knocking the breath right out of my lungs. Whatever oxygen I manage to hold onto is sucked out of me promptly.

I whine, my body going all slack and tired as he smooths the hair out of my face, palms dragging clean back across my cheeks. Those hands cradle the back of my head, making it impossible to keep my eyes open.

Content, I sigh, eyes succumbing to the sensation and falling shut. The last thing I see is his own eyes slipping open to look at my face.

Boy, he’s a good kisser. Must be that lizard brain he has such a distaste for.

My fingers blindly reach and fumble at his belt, hooking into the waist, pulling him flush against me. Rust must forget what he’s doing for a moment, and he pauses where he is, in limbo, eyes far away. When I begin to unthread his belt from its quietly clinking buckle, he goes stiff again, blinks rapidly before perceiving me.

Holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

His hands hover over my shoulders, not quite committed to the contact.

He’s seeing me—really seeing me—as I unzip his trousers and spit crudely into my palm and curl around the length of him, warm, tight. I begin to understand the gentle throb and strain he feels, a delightful thrill running rapid all through my insides. He feels deliciously alive.

But then he turns his head away, neck straining up, breath choked back in his throat. His hands come away, raised, it looks like, as if trying to seem non-confrontational, trying to come away unscathed from a bad situation.

My stomach burns with desire. “Let yourself like it, Rust,” I mumble against his cheek. “Are you here with me?”

I can feel him swallow.

“Yes,” he responds. I guide his face to me, stroking his cock confidently once, twice, as encouragement, maybe. Temptation. Whatever you want to call it. My mouth waters, my head goes airy, when I feel his sex twitch in my embrace.

“Kiss me again, then.”

And he does. Brows furrowed as if in pain, he does, with the tip of his nose dragging and pressing into my cheek. He kisses me sweetly once, then again, and then pants down hotly into my mouth, hovering there before sliding his tongue deep inside, close, smooth.

I let myself love it. I let myself let go with every kiss he blesses me with, growing looser and easier and lighter each second.

The weight of him in my hand inspires a beautiful urge to have him lay down and let me feel every part of his body. Even though his hips stutter, he doesn’t buck up into my fist, doesn’t whine, doesn’t moan, doesn’t curse. Not yet. He just breathes and breathes, and kisses me and kisses me, like it’s all he was set on Earth to do. All he’s allowing himself to do.

Desperate, perhaps, my thighs are pressed against his, feeling unnaturally weak and warm. The throb between my legs coincides with my heart rushing in my ears, a steady ache, impatient. Part of me wants to drag this out as long as possible, because what if this never happens again?—and another part wants to push him inside me already, have him fill me up, fuck me stupid.

This thought stuffs me up to the brim, like cotton punched down into a pillowcase. I whine shallowly and try to slot his thigh between my own.

A switch in his brain must flick on.

It’s like he’s inside my head, like he’s in on my desperation, like he can see and feel every sinful image and thought circulating my alighted brain. He knows it all so well, such that he uses his hips to press us firmly against the counter, spreads my legs with the nudge of his foot between mine, and immediately pushes the rough pads of his fingers right where I need it, through the fabric of my skirt, letting me grind myself against him, hips and all. He circles there generously. I can feel my need dripping from me. He can too, no doubt.

I sigh, he breathes. I gasp, he breathes. My eyes flutter open and shut, but he looks on, eyes half-lidded but stare immovable.

He then lifts his knee to place against my cunt.

“That feels good, don’t it?” he says gently, rocking me over his knee up and down, back and forth, fingers digging into the soft skin of my hips.

My legs widen. When I gasp out weakly, he raises his brow and scans my face, like he had predicted the shaky, wordless nod that I offer to him too late in return.

“Did you want it like this, girl?” His voice is low, intimate, a hit of something just shy of addictive. “Or did you want somethin’ else, too?”

He kisses the hollow of my neck.

His other hand grips at my ass, up my skirt, kneading the flesh there, manipulating it, and his fingers ghost my slit, spreading me around his knee. He fucks up into my hand. I slide my fingers through his hair, which is soft and warm like butter.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid, pretty curls. I’ve proved my point: regardless of whatever act he may try to put on afterwards, we’ll both know that Rust isn’t as numb as he wants to be, that I made him feel good, that I made him want me, and that he’s hot-blooded and thrumming with life. I can feel how alive he is . I hope he thinks of this again some time, whether by himself or surrounded by people. I hope it drives him a bit mad, remembering this.

A hot, sharp breath fans out across my cheek, his mouth slotting back over mine, open, daring me.

I rut against his knee, my fingers teasing the wet head of his cock. I look down between us, at my hand on him, with half a mind to drop onto my knees and make him cum down my throat.

Rust lets out a grunt and swallows hard again.

Then, he gently grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants, leaving me dazed and confused. With nimble fingers, he unzips my skirt, pushing it over my hips and dragging his hands over my bare skin. He asks me, “You want the bed?”

I step out of the pool of fabric around my feet, slide my shoes off. “‘s not a bed.”

I slide my fingers beneath his sweaty, white undershirt, feeling the taut muscle there, feeling the steady breaths that contradict his racing pulse. He holds my eyes, dipping slightly when I dip, tilting when I tilt. “Seems like one to me.”

How unlike him.

A smile spreads over my face, and his pupils blow wide, dark, imploring. “You wait ‘n’ see what happens when the dust-mites turn up.”

His eyes on me alone are enough to leave me breathless, chest caving in on itself. Of course, when he kisses me softly, it only makes things worse – his long fingers curl around the base of my throat, watching me watching him, and his other hand slides up under the hem of my blouse, palm spread over my bellybutton.

I sigh, try not to squirm.

“You want the bed?” he repeats, heavy, rough. I bite back a needy whine that sits at the back of my mouth. His fingertips press down slightly into my pulse, tightening my breathing.

I nod. “Yeah.”

Think of all the times I’ve sulked over his lack of eye contact with me. Was I annoying? Uninteresting? That, obviously, was an immature way of looking at things, definitely not improved by my distinct femininity undergoing some kind of unspoken disapproval by most I met on the job. This is the most present he has ever been in a moment with me around.

As he pulls himself away, steps back, his eyes are darting over my face, less like he’s judging me and more like he’s trying to find and memorise every detail. I do that, sometimes: if I pay well enough attention, it feels like I’m re-living the moment when remembering.

His hands slot sensibly into his pockets as if his cock isn’t blushing and poking out of his fly right now, belt undone, hanging low about his narrow hips.

Legs don’t fail me now. I slink out of the glowing kitchen and carry on to where the mattress lies in a dim, blue corner, the strange crucifix watching over, a long shadow cast over the empty wall upon which it hangs. He follows shortly behind me, his warmth radiating out onto my back.

I pause and look out onto the darkness revealed behind the half-open slats of the floor-to-ceiling blinds that shield the room from the window to the outside world.

Rust’s presence is intoxicating behind me. He smells like cigarette smoke, still, enticing. I’m trying to quit, but he makes it damn hard. His nose is just shy of my hair, his body so close to enveloping me into him – the prospect of it makes me shiver in delight. I must hallucinate his fingertips along my spine.

I unbutton my blouse with slow fingers, then slide it off and undo my bra.

His breathing is level and grounding by my ear as he comes close, sliding his strong, wide hand up my stomach, along my ribs, and cups under my soft breast. He rubs over my nipple in gentle circles before squeezing over me warmly. He then comes around to pinch the creamy tissue gentle between his fingers and thumb, closing his hot mouth over, drawing along his feverish tongue. I sigh, stroke his hair, let him press soft pecks and kisses to the curve of the soft flesh and to my sternum.

My fingers, cupped around the nape of his neck, dip under the collar, cool. This touch, for some reason, causes him to make some sort of breathless, pathetic noise against me. His eyes are half-shut.

“Anything else philosophical y’wanna get out before we fuck?” I quip smartly (though, not feeling so smart altogether), hand placed innocently on his hip.

He lifts his head, removes his hands from my body – he looks so tragically beautiful in this light. “You want me inside you?” he asks genuinely, seemingly aloof to the fact I’m naked in front of him, open and wanton and pressing my thighs together, his eyes never drifting from mine.

“What do you want, Rust?” I whisper.

He seems to really think about it – he’s always thinking. Briefly, his eyes flit down to my mouth. Then, he looks away, scratches at his forehead.

After a moment longer, he swallows thickly and tips his head down over to the bed, tells me, “Lie down on the mattress,” in a gentle, decisive tone. He’s so soft-spoken – it makes my toes curl.

I do as told, transfixed by the dark shadow in his eyes, and sink down to sit and then recline back on his coarse mattress, coarse bedsheets, with my weight on my forearms and chin tilted up towards him. He watches me, tucking his thick cock back into his underwear.

Still fully dressed in his work attire, he takes a step forward, looming over me, powerful, assertive. Saliva pools in my mouth—again—as I play with the thought of him sitting heavy on my tongue with his stomach tight, shaking, hands in my hair, fucking down my throat. I would let him. Hell, I’d probably let him do anything he wanted to me at this point.

Does he know that? Maybe. I don’t know.

As he reaches his hand out too smooth the hair out of my face, I try to figure it out, but I can’t – he seems too wrapped up in his own desire to be thinking anything at the moment. I feel a flicker of satisfaction jump up in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that’s something else.

“Lie back, girl,” he tells me.

My cunt flexes.

I thump onto my back, breathless. “Take off your shirt, Rust.”

Without replying, he sinks down to his knees in front of me, my thighs. Instinctively, I prop myself up and watch him unbutton that wrinkled shirt all the way down, shrug it over his broad shoulders. I could fuck myself silly just over the thought of those shoulders, I remark inwardly. He tugs the wifebeater over his head, lean muscles catching the low light, strong, study, solid, and tosses the thing to the side thoughtlessly. My hands reach out to touch him, to feel him and know him. When my fingers press into his skin, glide up his neck and down over his chest, he sighs deeply. He then carefully removes my hands, urging me to sprawl down under him.

“Said lie back, didn’t I?”

Rust doesn’t say another word before placing his large hands on my knees and easing them apart, lowering himself to press pecks and slow, open-mouthed kisses to my thighs, closer, closer, stroking my sensitive skin gently. I almost flinch at his every touch, like it burns. His face is awful serious, like he’s concentrating. I wriggle in anticipation, eager.

“Rust,” I whisper purposelessly. He looks up, hums, searches my face for anything the matter.

I watch on desperately, on the brink of feral distress. A sob clogs my throat as he kisses my fluttering stomach, ducking his head down and curling his forearms, his hands, around my thighs. The dark stamp of his bone-bird tattoo curls over his arm. I realise he is waiting for my attention to return to him, his eyes patient but glazed over with something cardinal. Hungry.

“Can—?”

“Yes.”

He hums. And then he breathes hotly over my underwear before pressing his nose right there into the damp fabric, inhaling my scent there. I whimper at the pressure he applies with the strong bridge of his nose, at the wetness of his open mouth against me. He breathes heavily into me, groaning slightly beneath it all – I can’t tell past the thrumming of my heart in my ears.

“Rust,” I whisper again, my shoulder straining with the task of keeping me up and looking down at the sight of his sweet head buried between my glistening thighs.

“Lie back.”

He kisses me through my underwear, dutifully kneading the flesh of my hips, my inner thighs.

I thump back against the mattress, helpless, keening into his touch as this grey man roughly tugs my underwear down, down, all the way down, until they’re clean off my body, long gone, and then returns his nose to the cleft of my pussy, unseaming me with his tongue, opening me up, breathing me in. It’s enough to draw a shallow, hoarse cry from me. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t say anything, biting down on my white knuckles.

Rust licks warm over my clit, sucking gently on the bud of nerves (then not so gently), before sliding down, down through my very centre.

Whining breathily, the twist in my stomach tightens and spasms as he presses my hips and thighs right down against the mattress, slow, strong, giving me time to notice it, realise it, give into it, deny the natural instinct to curl my limbs tight all over his face, his neck, his mouth.

Holy fuck. Rust Cohle has his face buried between my legs right now. I have Rust Cohle’s tongue pushing deep into my cunt – he sighs softly, a sound with its own powerful gravity a black hole to envelop me in, and grinds his hips against the edge of the mattress for a split second, just once. My mind pulses with the thought of making him cum. I wonder if he feels the same hunger.

Then, he’s sinking his long, elegant fingers into me, one, then two, and just the knowledge that those fingers belong to him makes my thighs quiver and shake, makes me sigh again. Thick, confident, they curl inside, slow like an experiment, right up to the knuckle. When he taps up against me, when I squeal and crimp up into his hold, he returns himself to mouth dutifully over my clit. My hand threads itself into his hair, holding him steady – I offer a breathless moan when his grip across my hips loosen, an invitation to begin rolling myself up over his pretty face. He pulls his fingers out of me, wet and hot, and encourages my thighs upon his beautiful shoulders, clinging onto them urgently. He shudders a little, I think, when I lock them firmly around his head and grind myself shamelessly against his mouth, his nose. He moves his jaw, his face, in tandem.

I cum after a while like that, because how can I not? The searing buzz reaches a roiling static.

I go loose, moaning softly, melted down flat, and stroke fuzzy fingers through Rust’s pretty hair as he sucks my clit still, as he inhales again and sighs again, reduced to something primitive and needy.

Thick, my heartbeat throbs and echoes like a drum in my skull, threatening. I feel so full that I could mistake the beat of pleasure for nausea pressing in my throat. It was silly to think that this could all be satisfied just from one time. My eyes closed, Rust’s light touch over my abdomen, up to my throat, is acute and heightened, like a million tiny, individual sparks. His fingers fumble over my jaw, then press lightly over my pulse.

He retreats just as I’m playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, coming to stand to full height above me, unthreading his belt from his trousers with quiet, precise hands. I press my shaking thighs together, watching him breathe strongly through his nose, trying to remain somewhat respectable in the presence of the darkening look in his eyes that is locked down on my body.

He pauses, wipes some shine from his nose. Before he can continue with whatever, I find myself sitting up on my knees, grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise all pretty and purple, shoving the trousers down to his knees, and palming him through his boxers.

We don’t have to say anything. He just watches me passively, pushing my hair back again, behind my ears, my shoulders, rolling my earlobe softly between his fingertips.

I remove his underwear, take him into my mouth, thick and long and wanting; he sighs, holds my head with two steady hands.

When was the last time someone helped him like this? I honestly couldn’t have told you, even given a loose theory, prior to this moment: Rust is simultaneously the hottest and most non-sexual being I’ve ever come across in my life. He just happens to be beautiful; he just happens to inspire these sort of feelings choking up inside me. No overarching intention that he’ll ever admit to, no vanity, no preening. So strict to himself, so tight, like a piston, something that fights and pushes and hurts.

So, as I hold him firmly and suck at the head of his blushing cock, kissing him, I watch his face, savour the tart taste of him, and press my thighs together: he’s becoming warmer, looser.

Still, as much as I want him, I know he’s wanted me. However vague he tells it, he’s wanted me. Good Lord, he looks even more stressed now, somehow, than when we had just been talkin’. Hands gently cradling my skull, he tilts his head away, watches the cross on the wall, as he succumbs to it, maybe, and begins to gently, languidly fuck my face. I tuck a hand between my thighs, and I love him, my other with the fingers digging into his hip, his ass. If I’m lucky, maybe it’ll leave some sort of mark, just to remind him I was here, so that, when he’s being all indifferent again, with his eyes lowered to the floor as he shares a report with me at my prim, little desk, we’ll both know that we were once in this room together, here like this.

Rust breathes and breathes, almost mechanically, and slides his cock further into my mouth. The weight of him in there drives me half-insane. If I could consume him, envelop him, and we could be one and the same, I’d readily allow it. When he sinks deeper still down my throat, I sigh around him, rub myself the way I like.

His eyes are determinedly shut, like some part of him refuses to be here.

Before I can make him cum, he shakes his head and tugs my hair back a little bit, mumbling for me to stop and sit away.

For all his mouthiness just a half hour ago, would you look at him now?—Rust Cohle, plundered by the human sensation of speechlessness. I’ve never seen him out of his element before. When he comes down and cages me with his body, hot skin flush against hot skin, I don’t mean that in a bad sense. Shit, he’s far from it. But there’s nothing to say. Nothing of note, nothing to pick apart, no deeper meaning, no theory. Just an itch that has to be scratched. He wants, he is, and it’s heaven to see.

In the dark, he sinks in to me as he is, eliciting from me a soft moan that curls over the shell of his ear. I have to bite down on his shoulder when comes the push, the stretch, the sink, the comfort of him inside. I curl my legs around his waist and grab at his ass, willing him deeper still. He shudders silently over me, thick ripples of pleasure rolling through his lean body.

I curse, but I’m sure it barely registers with him.

His head lifts and his eyes clamp shut as he braces an arm against the wall, lifting one of my legs up over his hip and fucking into me deeper, slipping out and in, and again, and again. I know what I’d see if I took a look down, saw his cock pumping into me, but I can hardly do anything but buck my hips up to meet his effort, my stomach stuttering with that building pressure, hands gripping desperately around his neck and shoulders.

Though, I’m not even sure it is effort that’s driving him.

I mumble into his shoulder, dumb, focussing on the feel and press of him in my belly. I doubt he’s really aware of anything more than the sensation of it, evident from the small grunt that passes his lips as he fucks deep in me. His stomach presses heavier down onto mine, crushing a delicious pressure there, teasing out a long, breathy whimper. He snakes an arm around my hips, pushes his free hand to the back of my knee, tilting my legs back a little more, and then pulls me wider. Tight, he moves me how he wants me, my flesh dipping and carving, fucking himself raw with me, with my hot cunt. His mouth moves over mine, not kissing me, not speaking, just there, present, hot, panting. He doesn’t open his eyes, so I close mine, and I breathe.

Rust stutters and cums and spills over into me with a grunt. He pants sharply, harshly, rhythmically into my mouth, tense again, and then he collapses over my body, and he lays there. I lay there too, burning on the far inside.

I think he only really remembers I’m there when I shift under him.

His eyelashes brush against my cheek. “Sorry,” he murmurs, but the sound of his voice scrapes directly against my brain with the shock of a flesh-wound.

I assume he’s referring to the thick cum that I can feel leaking out of me now. He shifts his hips, adjusting himself in the grip of my cunt. My fingers wrap around his arms, squeeze as I feel him easing out.

“It’s okay,” I reply.

He glances down between us and guides himself out with a lewd noise, swallowing hard. I shiver.

Quiet, sedated, he shrugs his trousers, his underwear, off of his ankles, slipping the bedsheet over both our naked selves. His hand spreads and flattens warm over my abdomen, feeling the gentle swell and sink of the breaths I take and release.

#true detective #rust cohle #marty hart #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle x reader smut #okay cool this is a bit niche hope you liked it #this show made me question my life's purpose #the first season at least #thanks matthew mcconaughey #anybody else here like Fiona apple or what

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dr3c0mix · 11 months

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HII! can we get more bully pleeeaseee!!!! like maybe reader (any gender) finding his phone and seeing cute/weird stuff of them on it??? how would they react and what would bully do about it??? also love your work!!!!

argaggragrgagrargagragrgag its been a while since ive made a purely Bully fic, also sorry for the long break, i still had shit to work out after my vacation but im back now!! Sorry this is a bit short, but I do have another boy in the works!

Yandere!Bully x GN Reader pt.3

🖤 It's been a few weeks since you and Adrian started dating and it's not much different from what you put up with other than more affectionate touches and kissing.

🖤 He'd do stuff like take your school books and raise them up high enough so you can't reach them and only give it back if you give him a kiss.

🖤 He makes you skip classes with him by trapping you in a bear hug in the furthest parts of the library so no one will catch you guys cutting class.

🖤 He's much much more protective of you as well, glaring at people who look at you for a bit too long and keeping you close no matter what.

🖤 If you tell him to stop he can and will guilttrip you with whining and kisses.

🖤 "C'mon baby he was lookin at you funny! You know I don't like sharing~" you have to pry him off in order to get your homework done.

🖤 Sometimes he even comes home with you, staying over even after dinner to be with you.

🖤 Yes he met your parents, and he's surprisingly respectful and behaved when he's with them.

🖤 But alone with you in your room? Hell nah.

🖤 You're finishing up the last of your homework while Adrian was on the bed playing with one of the stuffed toys on your bed.

🖤 "Hey babes, gonna use the bathroom real quick!" You hear him get up and he peppers your cheek and neck with kisses before going off to the bathroom.

🖤 You continue your work until you notice his phone vibrating. His lock screen opens showing some notification from his friend but something else catches your eye.

🖤 His wallpaper was a photo of you on one of your dates playing with a cat you two found at the park.

🖤 You pick up his phone and stare at the picture, you don't remember him taking this..

🖤 The flushing of a toilet is heard and Adrian comes out of the bathroom and stops in his tracks when he sees you on his phone.

🖤 "...I'm your wallpaper?"

🖤 "Yeah, duh.."

🖤 "What do you mean duh??"

🖤 "Of course you're my wallpaper baby! Who else would be on there?"

🖤 "I don't know...Batman?"

🖤 "Yeah well Batman isn't my fucking partner ok? Robin's his partner!.."

🖤 He's such a dork..

🖤 You laugh and open your arms for a hug, he huffs, pouting a little as he goes to cuddle you close, kissing your neck as he takes his phone from you.

🖤 "When did you take that photo?" I laugh.

🖤 "I take tons of photos of you hun..."

🖤 "...wait what?"

🖤 "What?.."

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lustfulslxt · 5 months

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hi yk that one vid of matt where its like boston matt and hes scratching his arm with his phone in his hand... can you make a fic where matt and y/n fuck in the bedroom and then they walk out into the kitchen and they start cooking dinner or something and have y/n make the video

Wind Down - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : nsfw

After a long week of seemingly never-ending work, I am finally able to make my way to my boyfriend's house. He's who I always run to when I have a rough day, so after the treacherous week I had, he's exactly what I need. Since we're both free this weekend, he invited me over for a little relaxing slumber party.

We both just finished school, and since summer started, we have been so busy with working and trying to stack money before moving forward with our careers. Saying that, the last couple of months have been exhausting, neither of us really having a well-deserved and much needed break. So, when he texted me and told me to come over, and that he's got snacks and movies for us, I was beyond ecstatic.

Within ten minutes of leaving my house, I'm pulling up to his. I park beside their minivan and grab my overnight bag, quickly making my way through the back, towards the backdoor. Before I can even open it, it's opened for me, revealing Matthew.

"Hi, princess." He smiles, grabbing my hand and pulling me into him for a kiss.

"Hey, baby." I smile, planting another sweet kiss on his lips.

"Ugh." He groans, pulling me into his arms, squeezing me. "I've missed you."

"I know." I whine, enjoying his warm embrace. "Everything's been so chaotic. I was thrilled when I got your text."

He grabs my bag and ushers me upstairs, following close behind me. "Of course. I knew we both have this weekend off and I just want to spend it with you."

Once we get to the kitchen, I interlock our hands and place my head on his shoulder. He's always been the best boyfriend, and I'm so thankful for him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, with our hands still connected, and walks us to his bedroom. There, on the bed, are all of our favorite snacks and drinks.

I turn to him with a huge grin, "You're seriously the best. What would I do without you?"

"Simply cease to exist." He jokes, earning a playful shove from me.

We both giggle, me skipping to the bed while he sets my bag aside and gets his TV ready to play a movie. I gather all the snacks up and push them aside, making room for both of us to cuddle.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, joining me on the bed.

I shrug, "Eh, not really. But if you are, we can eat something real quick."

"No, I'm all good. I was just making sure." He replies, getting under the covers with me.

He lies on his back, me curled up at his side with one of my thighs wrapped around him. I place my head on his chest, and watch him flicker through Netflix, looking for a movie to watch. His scent fills my nostrils, making me feel all warm and giddy inside. He always smells so good. I slip my left hand under his shirt, resting it on his abdomen, rubbing soft circles just how he likes.

"God, I've missed you." He mutters, kissing the top of my head and pulling me closer to him.

He sets the remote down on his nightstand table and turns to face me. Closing his eyes, he pulls me flush against him and buries his head in the crook of my neck.

"No movie?" I question, closing my eyes and indulging in the warmth he's providing.

"Not unless you really want to watch something." He says, his eyes fluttering down at me. "I just wanna lay here with you."

I smile and place a kiss on his lips, burying my face in his chest. "That's completely fine by me."

He grins, snuggling impossibly closer to me, both of us finding solace in one another. His hand sneaks up my shirt and rubs my back up and down, the heat of his hand causing goosebumps to spread across my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and hike my leg up higher, desperate to be as close as possible. Time like these, I just want to live in his skin.

"I love you, Matty." I whisper against his cheek, the side of my face now against his.

"I love you more, pretty girl." He responds, planting his lips on mine.

It was a soft, but meaningful, kiss. His lips always move so tenderly against mine, both of us savoring the feeling it never fails to bring. We pull away, cheeky smiles adorning both of our mouths, before going back in. Our lips blend perfectly, moving together in a delicate and loving manner. My hands tangle in his hair, massaging his scalp the way I know he loves.

He pulls away and looks me in the eyes, quickly putting our mouths back together more desperately than before. His hands continue to roam along my back, my shirt riding up the higher he goes. One of his hands reaches the back of my neck, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues glide over each other with ease before he's exploring my whole mouth with his. After a moment, he pulls away, tugging my bottom lip in the process. It didn't take long for the heat to grow in my core, suddenly needing him in another way rather than just cuddles.

"You're so perfect, baby." He groans against my lips, brushing the hair out of my face.

"Matt." I breathe in a slightly whiny voice.

His eyes stare into mine, and I know he can read it all over my face. I need him so bad. He gently flips me onto my back, hovering over me and putting our lips together again. His hands slip up my shirt once more, softly gripping my waist and caressing my curves. It only takes him a second to decide to remove my shirt altogether. I slightly lean forward, assisting him in removing the piece of clothing. The moment my shirt hits the floor, his is also on the way down.

I pull him back down to me, our lips meeting in a feverish and heated kiss. My hands run up his bare torso, feeling the definition of his body beneath my fingertips. He turns my head to the side a bit, his lips trailing down my cheek and to my neck. He flicks his tongue along the sensitive skin, latching his lips around it. Nibbling and sucking all over, leaving me needy and breathless. He continues working his mouth lower, now peppering open mouthed kissed along my shoulder and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake.

His hands never leave my body once, him straddling one of my legs with his knee pressed directly into my core. The small gesture is enough to have me clenching around nothing, excited to be filled. I can feel his dick growing, the bulge pressing against my inner thigh. I loop my fingers in the waistband of his pants, attempting to tug them down. He reluctantly pulls away from me, leaning back to remove the rest of his clothing. I do the same, both of us tossing them aside with our shirts.

The sight of his erect dick, his tip red and secreting the slightest dribble of precum had my mouth watering. His hands engulf my breasts, kneading them as his mouth takes turn sucking each nipple. The way his hands and mouth work against my skin, and the feeling of his dick brushing against my clit, has me softly moaning beneath him.

"Please, Matt." I moan out, slightly lifting my hips to grind against him.

"I know, baby, I know." He assures, pulling back.

He wraps his hand around his dick, stroking up and down, closing his eyes at the sensation. He leans forward, sliding his member in between my slick folds, coating it with my arousal. He aligns himself with my entrance, slowly pushing in just enough for his tip to be buried in me, before he's pulling back out.

"Don't tease." I whine, my hands clenching the sheets beneath us.

He slightly chuckles, pushing back in, this time all the way. I gasp, feeling the hard muscle deep inside me as he bottoms out. He stills, letting both of us adjust, his teeth biting on his bottom lip from the pleasure. After just a moment, he begins pumping in and out of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, my back arching off the bed. His strokes are slow, but hard, my boobs shaking with every movement.

He reaches forward, gripping plush skin on my chest, pinching the sensitive buds. Soft moans emit from my mouth left and right, my face turning to the side from the overwhelming pleasure. He grasps my jaw, turning my face back to him. He gazes down at me, studying my features, his thrusts gaining power, but keeping the slow pace.

"Always look so fucking pretty under me like this." He groans out, his hair dangling in front of his face.

"Mm, you fuck me so good, baby." I moan out, my nails digging into his bare back.

He smashes his lips onto mine, his hand still gripping my jaw as he fucks into me. He kisses me so deeply that it leaves me breathless. I'm on cloud nine. I can feel every vein that runs along his cock as he slowly pumps his member in and out of me, hitting my g-spot over and over again. The lewd sounds of my arousal and our skin slapping rings through the air, making this moment all the more delicious.

"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around me. So tight and wet." He moans, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppier. "Whose is it?"

I can't comprehend anything, my mind hazy with pleasure. Pornographic moans fall from my mouth, repeatedly. I can feel my orgasm sneaking up on me, causing me to clench around his dick.

"I asked you a question." He growls, his hand on my jaw turning me to look at him. "Whose pussy is this?"

"F-fuck." I whine out, "Yours. It's yours, Matt. All yours."

"Oh fuck-" He moans into my neck, his breath heavy. "You're goddamn right it is. All mine."

His thrusts speed up, him chasing our highs. My thighs clench around his waist and I can feel him throbbing inside of me. His tongue dances along the sweaty skin of my neck, teasing the sensitive bit. His panting and moaning in my ear, along with his deep strokes, push me over the edge. My legs begin to tremble, my head thrown back, nails digging into his back muscles. With a loud moan, I'm releasing onto his cock.

"Such a good girl, baby." He moans, his thrusts now completely abandoning their previous rhythm.

With just a few more pumps, his hips are sputtering and he's emptying his seed into me with a loud groan. He continues slowly fucking into me, riding both of our highs out, before he comes to a halt. He gently pulls out of me, collapsing on the bed beside me. Both of us have erratic breaths, our cheeks flushed a rosy, pink color. Our skin is slick with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead, mine stuck to my neck.

"That was, wow." He pants.

"Matt." I breathe, causing him to look over at me. "I'm hungry now."

He bursts into laughter, making me join him. He leans over and places a sweet kiss on my cheek before getting up, grabbing my hand and helping me to stand.

"Let's get dressed. We can make something to eat, then shower and actually watch a movie this time." He suggests.

I nod in agreement, quickly dressing myself as he does the same. Combing my hair out with my fingers, I follow him out into the kitchen. He rounds the counter and opens the fridge, browsing for something to eat.

"Hey, do you wanna make a pizza?" He asks, looking back at me with raised eyebrows.

"Ooo, yes!" I cheese, "I'm just gonna go pee real quick. Get everything out and we can start when I get back."

He nods and does so as I make my way to the bathroom. I quickly go pee and wash my hands, heading back out to start out food. On the counter lays a baking sheet and a Totino's frozen pizza. I laugh upon seeing it.

"I figured we could just make this, since it's late and I know we're both tired. But if you don't want to, we can make a homemade one. It's up to you, princess."

I smile at him, "This is perfectly fine."

He smiles back and goes to preheat the oven. I take the frozen pizza out of the wrapper and place it on the baking sheet, then sit down on one of the bar stools while waiting for the oven to reach temperature. Matt comes and sits beside me, pulling his phone out to keep him occupied.

He looks so cute and so handsome. His hair falling over his face so delicately, his lips so pretty and pink. I pull my phone out, opening snapchat and start recording him. He doesn't have to do much of anything at all to make my heart flutter. He reaches back and scratches his back, suddenly catching my eye and seeing me record him. He flashes me a smile as I grin at him.

"You're so handsome, baby." I tell him, ending the video.

"Thank you, princess." He says, pecking my lips.

Once the oven preheats, we place the pizza in and set a timer for when it should be done. After it finishes, we run to his room with a plate and get in bed, eager to eat and watch a movie. This is exactly what I needed after the week I had. Matthew never fails to make me forget about everything else, instead, showing me a good time and making loving memories that I'll cherish forever.

a/n : hii, this was kinda just short and sweet! i hope it was still enjoyable! and sooo sorry for the wait, still tryna get back into my grove :))) love uuu x

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