#that was the only intriguing part of the film to me

[leaderwonim]

HALF RETURN part one

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary. you and park sunghoon reunite years later, except this time, on the court.

warnings. cursing, mentions of sport injury, mentions of excessive drinking

“Are you ready to go?” Your coach, Lauren, swings your gym bag around her shoulder, eyes widening at how heavy it really was. “Geez Nishimura, what did you put in here? We’re only leaving for 4 days!”

You laugh, taking a quick sip of your Celsius before putting on your socks. “My camera, 2 large Celsius, you can have one Lauren—my Stanley, don’t worry, it’s filled with water and not sprite this time. Oh, and extra rackets.”

“First of all, you’re not even supposed to drink that much Celsius,” Lauren clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “and secondly, your camera? You haven’t used that in a while.”

She’s right. You haven’t. Ever since the incident with Sunghoon 4 years ago, you quit film and started focusing on other things.. such as tennis, Sunghoon’s passion. It seems ironic, but that wasn’t your intention.

Turns out, you were pretty darn good after watching and filming him during your relationship.

Lauren Perret, a coach who used to attend Harvard had been at the park when she saw you play with your friend and instantly became intrigued. In a matter of weeks, she started coaching you to play for Duke with the connection of her friend who was in close hands with the president there.

“Kinda need it, we’re playing against Harvard today.”

“Ah.” Lauren looks away, already knowing what you’re implying. “How has he been, by the way?”

“No idea,” you shrug. “Soobin tells me he’s still good as ever. Heartthrob alumni of Harvard, visits to give speeches to the athletes every week.”

Soobin was one of your film friends during your time at Harvard, and was actually quite the sweetheart. He became pretty close friends with Sunghoon after graduation, the two finding comfort in drinking soju everytime their life went downhill.

For Soobin, it was a horrible quality film. For Sunghoon, it was anything. You still remembered that about him. The littlest of depression could lead to him passed out in the middle of the road.

“You shouldn’t be too worried about him,” Lauren shrugs. “Just think of him as another opponent.”

“You’re right,” you straighten out your white skirt, looking one last time in the mirror before opening your apartment door. “Let’s get this baby on the road.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

“Hey.”

You sit down in front of Sunghoon, awkwardly glancing around the place.

Despite your relationship ending badly and abruptly, he had invited you out to dinner.

It’s on me, he had told you over message. And you were surprised he still kept your number after all this time.

“Are you guys ready to order?” You could tell the waitress had a bit of a staring problem, her eyes practically set themselves dead on Sunghoon and Sunghoon only.

“Ah yes, I’ll just get the caesar salad with ranch on the side.”

“I’ll get a steak.” You say, handing both of your menus to her after she’s done putting that on the tab.

“She was totally into you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Was not.”

“Whatever.” You wave him off. “Caesar salad with ranch on the side, though?”

“Gotta watch my diet for championship.” He shrugs. “You should too Nishimura.”

“How have you been?”

Sunghoon laughs, and you’re confused as to why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“We’re really delving deep before I have my first wine of the night?” You don’t laugh, which makes the boy roll his eyes. “Okay fine. I’ve been doing okay. Are you sure you didn’t want to ask me about how I was when you exposed your films to the world four years ago?”

You choke on your spit, not expecting him to be so straightforward.

“When I first saw that, I was like no way. No way she would do that so carelessly, she got into Harvard for fucks sake—she wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But when I realized it happened and there was nothing I can do about it, I got so angry. I was angry for weeks, I was angry because everybody else was angry at me. They held me up to this high standard that when they saw me break it, they went ballistic. My coach yelled at me for weeks. Said I was the biggest disappointment known to man, and I was stupid for blowing opportunities away.”

“Wow, I—I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” he laughs. “After you exposed me, you found your love for tennis. If I had rewind time and asked you now if you would do what you did four years ago, you would say yes. Admit it, Nishimura.”

“Here is your food!” The waitress comes to end the tension, handing you two your plates. “And you requested 3 wines, Mr. Park?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He places two of the wines on his side and one on yours.

“Say whatever you want to say now,” Sunghoon smirks. “I finally have my wine.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

When it came to the day of your competition, yours and Sunghoon’s coach share a nod, shaking heads silently.

From the corner of your eye, you finally see him.

After four years, he has grown. He’s no longer the boyish college athlete that you used to date before. Instead, his stance is confident, intimidating almost.

“Hi Nishimura,” he grins. And God, God, it’s the same grin he gave you the day you first met.

“Hi Park.”

He bounces the tennis ball, eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you so tense? Relax, it was four years ago.”

“You’re really over it?” You question.

“I guess.” He stretches his back, a loud cracking sound can be heard. “Not like you ruined my career for a whole 6 months and went after my passion.”

“Alright!” Your coach mushes you and Sunghoon together. “You guys are on now.”

Sunghoon bites the inside of his cheek, already in his starting stance. “Ready anytime you are Nishimura.”

You serve the ball, adrenaline flowing through your body like a stream.

“C’mon,” Lauren whispers at the edge of her seat, “just one more out.”

Suddenly, Sunghoon swings his racket hard at the ball, hitting it right at your eye, making your entire body fall backwards.

“Shit shit shit,” Sunghoon runs over to you, ignoring the loud yelling from your coach at the referee.

“Tell me,” you say to him, blurred vision making Sunghoon look like a distant memory. “That you love me.”

“I can’t.” He whispers, frowning as he positions you so you’re now sitting on the court.

“Tell me I wasn’t the issue in our relationship, Sunghoon. Give me that at least.”

His face still remains pitiful, “Y/N, you seriously never understood, have you? Not even after 4 years?”

“Understood what?”

“It was never about you.” He says quietly. “My life, I mean. It was always about tennis.”

And although you know he’s just being honest, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

[memecatwings]

sorry for not liking saltburn ive failed you guys 😔

[mariocki]

Night of the Demons (1988)

"Do you guys have sour balls?"

"Why, sure we do."

"Too bad, I bet you don't get many blowjobs."

[eraenaa]

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!

You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 

You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 

He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 

You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 

You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  

You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 

You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 

“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 

You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 

“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 

“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 

Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 

You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 

“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 

Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 

I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.

[lovebugism]

"we’re arguing when the ball drops on new year’s eve, and decide to kiss and shit i don’t think i hate you anymore"

with eddie and grumpy!r pls

ty for requesting! :D — your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can't stand (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Another year passes in a blink, and suddenly everyone around you is chanting “new year, new me” like it’s not just some overdone mantra destined to be forgotten by mid-February. 

It’s not surprising that you and Eddie are the only two not participating in the holiday theatrics. It’s also not surprising that the two of you are spending the entirety Steve’s New Years party bickering like a married couple on the couch.

You both got dragged here — you by Robin, and him by Dustin — and the two of you are acting like total grumps about it accordingly. And even though you can’t stand being in the same room as each other, you’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room all night.

You’re sitting pretty in a black dress beside him, scowling like a storm cloud while Eddie scoops a handful of pretzels in his mouth. Seemingly noticing your side-eyed glare, he starts to chew more audibly because he knows how much you hate it. The slow and rhythmic smack smack smack makes the chatter around you sound more distant as your skin begins to crawl.

Eddie smiles when you tense — wider when you glare at him.

“Sometimes I wonder why I hate you, and then you do stuff like that, and I think to myself, “oh yeah, that’s why.”

He grins with all his teeth, pretzels crumbs and all. “The feeling’s mutual, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

You shake your crossed leg to the music playing softly overhead and try to focus on the television in front of you. The staticky film of Times Square isn’t quite as distracting as the boy beside you — and not just because he’s purposefully trying to annoy you. 

He has no right to be this pretty, with his wild hair and black button-up and smudged eyeliner. It’s hardly fair.

“Don’t act like one, and I won’t,” he retorts, muffled through the food in his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you the widest smile he’s ever looked at you with. The bits of chewed-up pretzel in his teeth make you grimace.

“You’re a child,” you deadpan.

Eddie laughs — a pretty little sound in a scoffed-out breath. 

He sits the half-empty bowl on the coffee table, then pushes his sleeves to his elbows. His arms are pale, lanky, and tattooed. Some of the ink is faded and messy, obviously not done by professionals. You think those intrigue you the most. You’d ask about the stories behind them if you even cared.

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and looks at you over his shoulder. His smile is pink and made of honey — his eyes dark and made of fire. 

“You can act like you hate me all you want, but everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me,” he teases with a scrunched nose, motioning to the room with his pointer finger. 

No one’s paying either of you any mind. They’re too focused on their own conversations to care about the ones you and Eddie have had a thousand times over. You try to act as disinterested as they do. You think you’re playing the part pretty well, honestly, but Eddie’s looking at you with a twinkle in his eye like he can see right through it.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he huffs and leans back again, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. 

The sudden proximity isn’t lost in you. Neither is the smell of nicotine and sandalwood radiating off of him. It stirs a velvety feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try hopelessly to shove down.

“You must be completely and utterly blind, then.”

“Uh-uh,” he hums with a shake of his wild head. “Twenty-twenty vision, baby.” He leans in close to croon the words in your ear, and your heart lurches into your throat. You shove him off with a half-hearted hand anyway. 

“Get off me!” you groan, face scrunched in a childlike annoyance. “And don’t call me baby.”

Eddie settles back beside you with a subtle pout between his brows. “If I can’t call you princess and I can’t call you baby, then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Nothing!” you shout, like being called baby hadn’t stirred something foreignly pleasant behind your ribcage. “Don’t call me anything! Don’t call me at all—”

“Guys! Come here! The ball’s about to drop!” Dustin shouts over the chatter to get everyone’s attention, a bit too loudly. He stands in front of the television along with the rest of the small crowd, ogling at the bad reception of the Times Square Ball and a flashing countdown.

“Sounds like me in middle school,” Eddie jokes, making Steve snort out a laugh when he walks in from the kitchen. You shoot the wild-haired boy a squinted look of disgust and he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon! That was funny, and you know it.”

“Ten!” the crowd begins to chorus.

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble.

“And you’re the one who’s obsessed with the idiot, so… Who’s the real weirdo?”

“Nine!”

“Still you.”

“Ooh,” Eddie lilts, plush lips softly pouted. “So you are obsessed with me?”

“Eight!”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “You love putting words in my mouth, don’t you?”

“Like I said,” the boy hums with a smug smile. “Just calling it like I see it, honey.”

“Seven!”

The dumb name shouldn’t make you melt like it does. You turn into a puddle before you can come up with another comeback. You forget how to form words and get lost in how soft his lips look, pink and delicate like a flower. God, he’s so pretty, you hate him.

“Six!” your friends continue to chant, the only sound in the expansive living room. “Five!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, honestly,” the boy assures with an absentminded shrug, tilting his flushed cheek to his shoulder and flashing you an unkissed grin.

“Four!”

“You’re not the first girl to fall head over heels for me, and you won’t be the last.”

The corner of your lip curls into a quiet smirk. You squint at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a sudden longing for him to eat his words. “Is that so?” you croon lowly.

“Three!”

He leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret. The nicotine-whiskey concoction on his breath brushes your cheek. Screw the alcohol in your abandoned cup — you’d sooner get drunk on him. 

“I’ll make sure to let you down easy, alright? I promise,” Eddie hums with a feigned seriousness.

“Yeah?”

“Two!”

He nods, bushy brows pinching softly together and petaled mouth gently pouting. “Yeah. I’m not in the heartbreaking business, you know? I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, princess, but you should there’s no way in hell that I’m ever gonna—”

“One!” the house chants together, louder this time as they shout, “Happy New Year!”

You blink, and suddenly everyone’s grabbing onto somebody. 

Robin and Vickie share a quiet peck you don’t miss in the corner of the room. Mike and El smack a more obvious kiss in the very center of it. A newly grown-up Dustin tries his chances with Nancy, glancing at her with a silent smile she shakes her head at — “Not a chance, kiddo,” she says with a soft pink grin. Even Max leans over to brush a kiss to Lucas’ cheek, right before scowling at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re back together, Sinclair.” 

So you feel it’s only right, that in a room of kissed mouths, you get kissed, too.

Eddie is the perfect victim. Mostly because he hasn’t stopped yapping since he sat down beside you, some hours ago now. You reach for him, splaying your hand across his warm jaw (that grows somehow hotter beneath your touch), and pressing a kiss to his blabbering mouth. 

You swallow all the half-hearted insults he spews at you because he thinks you really hate him. In Eddie’s mind, if being mean is how he gets closer to you, then when you go low, he’ll go all the way to hell. 

You don’t kiss him like you hate him, though. You kiss him like you can taste stars in his mouth. Like the rest of your whole life is sitting on his tongue.

Your mouth locks with his for a moment, kissing the breath from his lungs, only to pull away a second later.

Eddie’s totally frozen when you’re gone. The loudmouth boy — who you decided to hate if you couldn’t love — is left so suddenly speechless. He blinks at you with heavy, velvet eyes and grieves a thing he didn’t even know he could have.

A grin pulls at your freshly kissed mouth. It feels good to have the upper hand again.

“You’re never gonna what?” you tease, tilting your head like you’re innocent.

His mouth parts for an answer. Nothing comes out.

Your smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Honey.”

[yngxing]

SEEING AVENTURINE IN THE LIVESTREAM MADE ME THINK ABOUT MEMOKEEPER! READER WITH HIM :o

I mean since he have such a tragic past, it would be very interesting to see someone who can look into his memories as a Sigonian

I'm so happy you like him too (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) hope I'm not troubling you

not at all :3 this will contains some leaks and fanarts i've seen about his past! may not be 100% accurate. also memokeepers can choose who they want to be visible to, but i'm not sure about the fortune telling part. this still looks bad despite being in my draft for days goddamn.

the first time he met you was when you're passing by ipc's pier point, only to spot an exhausted aventurine splayed on his million-credit couch.

since memokeepers are able to become invisible, you curiously approach his room, intrigued by his wealth. and out of kindness, you carefully moved him into his bed, before finding his 'aventurine' stone—which indicates his importance to the corporation.

your growing curiosity led you to pry into his past, watching all the hardships and suffering he had to go through during his childhood, which was supposed to be filled with joy and laughter. instead, you watch as they place thick and heavy chains around his neck and wrists, left him with little to no food, marked his neck with the word 'slave', and force the poor boy to work tirelessly. scene after scene plays out like a film, as a proof of just how cruel the ipc can be.

you stopped looking into his memories, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. you would never guess that this easygoing and arrogant man hides such a past.

eventually, you start following him around—watching him gamble, standing in the corner when he sleeps, even sneaking into the ipc's annual meeting just to make sure he's safe. you find him fascinating, the way he can acts so haughty while having experienced so many things he should never have gone through.

until one day, aventurine's guts tell him to catch this strange, mysterious creature that has been stalking him. but you're so hard to catch, so hard that he has to pretend to sleep to make you lower your guard and make yourself visible.

"snooping around again, little memokeeper?" he chuckles the moment you turn around in surprise. you do want to show yourself to him, but not this early! and when you tried to escape, he caught your hand just before you could teleport, pulling you closer, "since you already know so much about me, i can't possibly let you roam freely anymore,"

so now you live with a rich senior manager of the largest corporation in the cosmos, always stuck to his side—aventurine wouldn't like it if you were to use the knowledge about his past for something that'll ruin his business!

he spoils you, of course—while ignoring the weird look he gets from his subordinates and acquaintances when they saw him talking to the air. so you take care of him in return! comforting him when he has a bad day and making sure he did not forget his meals.

this is a memokeeper's love language me thinks: you also create light cones of the moments when he's the happiest—which are usually when you're around, and you bring them to the garden of recollection to make sure you have something to remember him when the fated day comes. aventurine also keeps some of these rectangle objects in his room, and he probably gaze at the pictures when you're away collecting memories.

bonus: imagine aventurine asking you to reveal his luck for today before he went to gamble, to which you refuse, since memokeepers cannot use their powers for self-indulgent reasons—congrats, now you have earned yourself a pouty aven!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Part Of Me

Alexia please come back, the kids and I miss you 💔

No request for this one, only from my imagination. Enjoy!

TW : Mention of abusive relation, a little of angst I guess

______________________________________________________________

Since joining FC Barcelona a few months ago, you have become the biggest plot for your teammates. Before signing in Barcelona, you were under contract with PSG but you had not set foot on the football fields since months because of an injury. Your signing with the Barcelona club surprised a lot of people since you had not proven yourself for a long time, your absence falling at the worst time, just before the eventual renewal of your contract in the French capital.

But it's now in Barcelona that you evolve and your discretion foolproof intrigues your teammates a lot. You are almost never present at organized parties and if you didn't arrive late at regular intervals, you would probably be almost transparent. Not in the field that said and fortunately. Since you're goalkeeper and a turn is made between the other goalkeepers and you, you don't participate in all the matches and you are not called every week. This undoubtedly adds to the shadow that characterizes you.

Alexia cannot tell if it's this part of the mystery that draws her gaze irremediably on you. But still, she regularly surprises herself by letting her eyes slide on you during training, something that Mapi hasn't missed. She doesn’t hesitate to tease her best friend on the subject, Alexia standing up to her every time by telling her that it’s just that she's intrigued by the shadows around you.

It's the truth, but but there is more. When you aren't officially summoned to the matches, you nevertheless attend them in the stands. This is where you exchanged your first words with Alexia, first turned on football before the conversations became lighter. You’ve noticed that Alexia sometimes tries to learn more about your private life, but you’ve always managed to avoid her questions.

********

"Sorry, sorry, I’m late" you apologize to Jonatan, coming running into the weight room, jumping on one leg to put on your second shoes.

Mapi bows an eyebrow towards Alexia who shrugs her shoulders, when your coach apologizes you with a vague wave of the hand before asking you to join Ona to be her training partner. She greets you with a little smile and Alexia can hear her ask you if everything is okay. You answer her with a positive smile, before focusing on the requested exercises.

"It’s so weird. No one ever scolds her" mumbles Mapi towards Alexia. "When I'm late I have to run at least five laps."

Alexia shrugs her shoulders without answering, turning her gaze on Mapi when she elbows her.

"Stop staring at her for two seconds, everyone will catch you"

"Leave her alone, Maria" Ingrid scolds her, triggering a little cute argument between the two.

Alexia takes advantage of the exchange between the two women to shift her attention back to you. You look tired this morning and she wonders what made your night complicated. Do you suffer from insomnia? She doesn’t know anything about your life, doesn’t know if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend.

"Did you offer to come tonight?" Ingrid asks Alexia nicely.

"She received the message about the Whatsapp group like everyone else, but I don’t think she replied"

"Go ask her directly. Maybe she’s just shy?"

Alexia bites her lip as she hears Ingrid’s attempt to guess your behavior. It’s true that if we compare you to Mapi or Lucy, you are rather the opposite of them in terms of character. Alexia herself doesn't participate in parties when it involves going to a nightclub, but comes willingly when it comes to film evenings organized at someone's house.

"I can try" ended up answering Alexia thoughtfully, her eyes on you again.

As usual at the end of the training, you are the first to be dressed and ready to go. You are always polite and smiling with everyone, but you give the constant impression of having hundreds of things to do outside of games and practice.

But Alexia beat you in speed this time and she catches you when you walk along the corridors to return to your car.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You turn to her and smile at her when she arrives at your height, giving her an interrogative look.

"I was wondering if you were coming to Aitana’s tonight? You didn’t answer in the groupchat."

"Oh… no, I don’t think I can, I'm sorry"

You feel a little guilty about saying no, but you don’t really have a choice. Your regrets are sincere and it seems to have caught Alexia’s attention. The blonde bites her lip when she resumes speaking, playing nervously with her bracelet.

"It’s sad. I just… I mean, I’d really like you to come."

This surprises you and you look at her for a few seconds as you continue to walk, wondering if she's mocking you. But no, she seems sincere and you even find yourself blushing a little.

"I’ll see what I can do to free myself if that can makes you happy" you end up answering in a low voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah"

You are surprised by the big smile that appears on your captain’s face, but it's nothing compared to the one you feel when she approaches you to put a kiss on your cheek. Alexia turns her heels and in a whirlwind of blonde hair, she disappeared.

"So?" Mapi asks Alexia when she drops by her side, back in the locker room, putting her head in her hands.

"It’s a disaster. She’s gonna think I’m the weirdest person in the world."

"What are you other than that anyway?" snorts Mapi, before receiving a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.

********

When you arrive in front of Aitana, you find yourself hesitating before pressing the bell. You have never participated in this kind of party and even if everyone is very nice to you, you don't know if you will feel comfortable with them outside the field.

"Can’t find the doorbell?"

Lucy’s amused voice sounds behind you and you turn to see her arrive in the company of Ona. You find yourself mumbling some excuse, but you are quickly diverted from what you want to answer by the quick embrace that the English offers you before ringing. You also greet Ona and finally you are happy not to arrive alone.

Aitana comes to open you shortly after and greets you in turn with an embrace to each. A big smile spreads on her face when she sees you and you find yourself having the right to a full visit of her home. This allows you to see those who are already present and until you enter the living room, you feel a slight disappointment not to see Alexia. But the blonde is installed on the sofa in the living room, next to Irene, when you get there.

Your eyes cross quickly and you respond timidly to her smile before answering Aitana that you want to drink anything as long as it's not alcoholic. Your Fanta in hand, you return to the living room without really knowing where to sit. But you don't hesitate long since you suddenly find yourself facing Alexia, also a drink in the hand.

"It’s great that you could come" smiled Alexia looking at you

You nod, not being able to stop yourself from realizing that Alexia is as beautiful off the field as in her football kit. Her blonde hair falls out of cascade around her face and her dress look is particularly attractive to your taste.

"I wouldn't have wished to grieve my Captain" you answer with a slight smile.

Alexia doesn't answer and an emotion that you cannot describe passes through her eyes, before she continues on another topic of conversation. Some of your teammates will come to mingle with you, Cata and Sandra in particular, as you train together as goalkeepers, but you will mainly spend your early evening with Alexia. The rest too, since you find yourself sitting next to her when the film you have gathered for begins. Usually, you don’t allow yourself to think about any attraction that you might have for someone else, but you have to admit that if you have to put someone at the top of the list, it would be Alexia. You find yourself struggling with sensations that you shouldn’t feel when her knee grazes yours, making you feel like a teenager experiencing her first crush. At the end of the film, you get up to join Aitana in her kitchen, embarking on the passage of dirty dishes to facilitate her task. "I’m sorry, but I have to go" you announce with a slight smile. You don’t like the idea of leaving first, but you don’t really have a choice. "Don’t worry, it’s good that you could come. It’s a pleasure to have you with us" she assures you before offering you an embrace. "Are you leaving already?" Alexia’s voice resounds behind you and you turn in her direction, to explain to her too that you have no choice. "For once it's not you who leaves first" Aitana laughs in the direction of Alexia. The Spanish woman smiles and puts dishes in Aitana’s sink before resuming speaking. "I’ll leave too. I have an interview tomorrow before practice." With that, you find yourself saying goodbye to your teammates at the same time and leaving Aitana’s home together. When you find yourself outside, you offer a hug to Alexia to say goodbye, finding you troubled by her smell. You shiver when you feel her stroking your back and you suddenly realize the warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, her hair that pleasantly caresses your face. And more intimately her chest against yours.

"It was nice to spend time with you outside the stadium" says Alexia.

Her mouth is right next to your ear since she still hasn’t released you. You quickly detach from her, feeling how disturbed you are by her closeness. But Alexia doesn’t release you completely, as if she wanted to enjoy this embrace a little longer. Your faces are only a few inches apart when your eyes cross and you wonder how you could never get lost in her honey-hazelnut eyes before that.

You don’t know how long your eye exchange lasts or what Alexia can read in yours. What you know is that when she slowly approaches her face from yours, you can’t resist the call of her lips. The kiss is sweet and delicate, Alexia gives you the impression that you are made of glass and ready to break into a thousand pieces. Which is probably the case.

You are breathless when you end the kiss, amazement taking precedence over the rest. Alexia Putellas has just kissed you.

"I.. I have to go" you stutter before you run away to your car.

The implicit rule asking everyone to send a message about the group when they come back, you simply send a "Home!" when you are, but you hurry to ignore your phone after that.

********

"It’s been three days and she never came back to training"

Sitting at the kitchen table of Mapi and Ingrid, Alexia ruminates her mixture of despair and questioning. She doesn't understand why you reacted in this way to your kiss, especially since you answered it and even extended it. She doesn't understand your disappearance after that and how you can be so traumatized that you simply decided to skip training.

Thanks to her title of captain, Alexia knows that it's officially for illness reasons that you didn't put a finger in the Barcelona stadium. But she can’t believe it.

Alexia is seated facing Mapi in front of a cup of coffee that she has not touched while Ingrid prepares a meal for them to regain strength after their training. The couple take Alexia here, touched by her distress.

"Maybe you're a very bad kisser?" laughs at Mapi, before abruptly shutting up when she receives a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.

"Stop doing that!" whines Mapi.

"Stop teasing your bestfriend!" answers back Ingrid

"Do you think so?" asked Alexia, ignoring their little fight, turning her head sharply towards the tattooed woman.

"Of course not, I'm sure it has nothing to do with it" intervenes Ingrid by raising rolling her eyes.

"How can you know that?" Mapi sulks, crossing her arms on her chest.

"I should never have kissed her" sighs Alexia before letting her forehead go against the wooden table in an alarming thud.

Mapi rolls her eyes in front of her best friend’s despair as Ingrid puts three plates on the table.

"What is done is done, you cannot change anything. On the other hand you can move your ass a little to make things better" replies the blonde, grabbing her cutlery.

"What do you mean?"

Alexia’s curious gaze rises on her best friend, but it is once again Ingrid who answers, the other blonde now having her mouth full of food.

"Go to her. You don’t need an excuse, just tell her the truth. That you’re worried about her."

Mapi simply agrees with Ingrid’s proposal and points to the Norwegian with her fork, nodding harshly. Basically, Ingrid isn't wrong, at least that’s what Alexia says when she looks out the window. "It’s still strange this behavior, to want to go home as soon as she finished training or matches." Alexia sighs thoughtfully before widening her eyes. "What if she’s married? You think I kissed a married woman?" "Oh god" sighs Ingrid as Mapi stands up on her chair abruptly. "Imagine she’s married to someone abusive? That would explain why she has so little freedom." "Okay, stop now" Ingrid intervenes again. "Alexia eats and goes to see her. And you, shut up" Mapi groans and shifts her attention to her plate, but nevertheless obeys quickly. Alexia also grabs her fork, thoughtfully thanking the brunette for her cooking. A few hours later, Alexia finds herself in front of an apartment on the ground floor of a residential area, where you live. It’s a bit out of town, but that doesn’t surprise her. In her opinion, it fits well with the discretion that characterizes you. After hesitating for a few more seconds, Alexia finally presses the doorbell button. It takes you a few minutes to answer, your surprise displayed on your face when you find yourself facing Alexia. You don't open the door entirely, sliding only your face by the interscice, which once again intrigues the blonde. She runs through your face with her eyes and it's true that you look tired. You have dark circles, drawn lines and your hair is styled in a messy bun. "Ale?" "Sorry to barge in like this without warning but uh... can we talk?"

You bite your lip while looking at her, apparently hesitating how you will answer her. This again makes Alexia mad with worry. What if Mapi was right? But you end up nodding, before going out the apartment after taking a look inside and gently closing the door behind you. It wasn’t what Alexia expected.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay"

Alexia talks nervously, realizing that you will not speak first.

"Oh… yes, I'm okay. I mean… the disease, all that" you mumble and shrug.

La Reina remains silent for long seconds, so long that you end up looking up at her face. You see her looking at you attentively and you find yourself foolishly blushing. The memory of your kiss has stuck in your head all these days and you have to use all your concentration capacity not to look at her lips.

"Listen Y/N, if your absence is related to what happened at the end of the evening…"

"Oh… no, I… it’s nothing to do with that, I promise"

You find yourself stuttering again and you hate yourself for it. If you wanted to give Alexia a good impression, you can hardly do worse.

"So what is it? To be honest, I can’t believe you’re sick. If something happens or you need help, you know we’re here for you? The others and myself, too"

You find it hard to support her gaze and you find yourself looking over her shoulder again. Without knowing what to say.

"Y/N"

The way she says your name in a mixture of tenderness and affection would have been enough to give you chills, but the fact that she touches your cheek with her fingers supports the sensation. That works though, your eyes quickly turning over on her face. But you step back, remembering that you can’t let go with her that way.

Which is terribly frustrating. Alexia seems to think the same, her eyes letting pass a burst of disappointment or rejection before she recovers. "I can’t. Not yet." You speak as well of any rapprochement with her as of a confession on your part. But Mapi’s assumption quickly comes back to Alexia’s mind and she gently takes your arm in her hand. "Is someone hurting you?" The surprise that appears on your face is so sincere that Alexia quickly understands that they have gone wrong. But it’s a relief and it’s comforting a few seconds before the frustration comes back. What would stop you from confiding in her if it wasn’t that? "No one is hurting me" you answer softly, though touched by Alexia’s level of worry. "It’s just that I don’t think I’m fit to get into a relationship right now, Ale. It wouldn’t be interesting for you for one second, much more annoying and constraining than anything else." "You can’t or you don't want to?" Alexia asks, almost ignoring what you just said. The answer you’re going to give Alexia will probably change a lot what she’s going to tell you in return, you know it perfectly. You could lie to her, but when you find yourself once again immersed in hwe eyes, you are incapable. Sighing slowly, you decide to tell her the truth. "I can’t." Obviously, this is the answer Alexia was hoping for, you realize it quickly when she steps in your direction. As delicately as before, her fingers stroke your face and you briefly close your eyes to reopen them when you feel her forehead leaning against yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’m sure you’re worth it." When you shake your head in a negative way, it doesn’t seem to impress her. "Let me decide?" adds Alexia.

The seconds that pass while your brain turns a thousand an hour are torture for Alexia, but for you too. You know perfectly well that Alexia will leave when she understands. But the blonde adds a "Please" begging and you can no longer stand up to her.

So you finally accept, gently opening the door of your apartment to invite Alexia to enter. From your point of view, your apartment isn't exceptional, but you surprise the captain to look around in an intriguing way. However, this is not where she will understand what keeps you in many things in your life.

Without really thinking about your gesture, you take her hand to take her upstairs and open the door of a room. And the least we can say is that Alexia didn't expect that to be in front of her.

A children’s room in beige and sky blue colors in which there is the complete necessary for a baby. A changing table, a wardrobe, pictures of animals and a cradle with a mobile installed above. The cradle is occupied, Alexia realizes it quickly. She looks at you to ask your permission to approach and you smile at her to confirm that she can do so.

You will never forget the first time Alexia laid eyes on your son. A mixture of wonder and tenderness that takes your breath away. Deeply asleep in his bed, unlike the previous three nights, his stuffed rabbit tight against his face and thumb in the mouth, your baby seems particularly relaxed. Alexia spends long seconds looking at him before shifting her attention to you.

For your part, you didn't leave her sight for a single second, regretting not being able to read her thoughts. You signal her to follow you outside the room with a nod and Alexia obeys without being asked.

Back in the living room, you feel like you’re hearing her brain scrambling.

"I guess you have questions?"

Alexia sat in front of you on one of your sofas and looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments. Her fingers mechanically caress her lower lip, which you’ve noticed she does when what she thinks is intense.

"You have a child"

"Yes"

"And you’re married?"

You’re just shaking your head negatively this time.

"In a relationship?"

"Nope"

"I don't understand"

You sigh softly and let yourself go against the back of the sofa on which you were installed on the edge so that you can better observe Alexia. The situation is complicated and that’s partly why you didn’t tell anyone.

"His father left as soon as he learned of the pregnancy. It was not planned at all and my former club agreed to mask my pregnancy with an injury. My contract was coming to an end and it was the deal we made. I was thinking about quitting my career after giving birth, but Barcelona contacted me to offer me a contract before the summer. I refused without explaining why and they insisted" you explain, slightly frowned. You still don’t understand their interest. "So I finally told them the truth. The leaders and Jonatan are aware and they offered to help me rather than give up"

Alexia remains silent throughout your explanation but a small smile is drawn and accentuated as your story. You deduce that it's because of the behavior of her club who is in line with her own personal values, until she resumes speaking.

"Well thanks for sharing this with me, but that’s not what I don’t understand" she said without masking her amusement, before getting up to sit next to you. You follow her with your eyes, in turn a little lost. "What I don’t understand is why you think the fact that you have a child would stop me from being interested in you"

So this one, you didn't expect it. You remain frozen on your sofa, blinking at her.

"Well… I barely have time to come train with you, I can never join you for evenings… How could I have time for you?"

"Is it now that I remind you that I am the most homebody of the team and that I am called Grandma because I go to bed early?"

You smile softly as you hear her answer punctuated by a touch of humor. Her amused smile increases your own fun and you feel a heat wave spread throughout your body as she mixes her fingers with yours.

"What’s his name?"

"Romeo" you answer

"It's cute" she smiles before resuming speaking. "But I'm sure we can make it work. I don't mind if our dates are in your house and I can still pass time with you when your son is here... If you're ok with that of course"

When she sees you bite your lips, Alexia take both of your hand in hers, searching for your eyes.

"I really like you and I don't think that your son will make things complicated. I can't wait to meet him. I'm serious with it, if you let me in, I won't let you down. Never."

"Just kiss me again."

Alexia looks shocked for two seconds, before leaning in and obliged. People always talk about the first kiss, the sensations it gives. But you find that the second one is underestimated too much. That of the confirmation. The second kiss Alexia offers you is as tender and delicate as the first, without the fear of being pushed back. Which you obviously don’t do this time, even shyly sliding a hand on his neck to prolong your exchange.

This lasts a few minutes, before baby crying sounds upstairs, interrupting your moment.

"I hope you’re ready, because it’s only the beginning" you smile maliciously against his lips.

********

alexiaputellas

liked by ingrid_engen, yourinstagram, ona.batlle, marialeonn16 and 260 202 others people.

alexiaputellas We fell in love in October 🤍🎶

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YourInstagram ❤️

irene.paredes amo a ambos

fan1 Who's hand is it? ↳ fan3 it's me don't worry ↳ fan5 I feel like it's Y/N, they seems really close in the lasts after games ↳ fan6 she put an heart in the comment section too ↳ fan7 So is Mapi ↳ fan5 Mapi is with Ingrid, don't be stupid ↳ marialeonn16 Yeah, don't be stupid

fan2 I thought she was single?!

fan4 Alexia you naughty secret girl

yourinstagram

liked by alexiaputellas, lucybronze, janafernandez, __cata13 and 250 197 others people.

yourinstagram You look so pretty and I love this view 🎶❤️

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marialeonn16 please send thanks to your photographer ↳ alexiaputellas muchas gracias Mapi ↳ fan1 OMG WAIT WHAT ↳ fan3 I TOLD YOU I FUCKING TOLD YOU FDKSFHJAFKJAL

alexiaputellas 🤍🤍🤍

fan4 Not Y/N and Alexia breaking the Internet

ona.batlle ❤️

yourinstagram and alexiaputellas

liked by alexiaputellas, albaputellas, ona.batlle, irene.paredes, ingrid_engen, __cata13 and 590 154 others people.

yourinstagram The loves of my life 💙❤️

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alexiaputellas te amo mucho 🥹🤍 liked by you

ingrid_engen 🫶❤️

elialexiaalba mis corazones

alexiaputellas

liked by yourinstagram, claudia.pina, ona.batlle, marialeonn16, lucybronze, __cata13 and 473 154 others people.

alexiaputellas Ready to watch Mami and Mama tonight ⚽👀

yourinstagram 💙❤️

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jenni.hermoso he's growing up so fast 😭 

marialeonn16 remember me to offer him a Maria Leon jersey for his birthday ↳ alexiaputellas He won't wear it ↳ marialeonn16 of course he will, I'm her favorite ↳ lucybronze We all know that it's Ingrid

______________________________________________________________

For real it was in my draft for so long because I wasn't able to find a name for this baby 😭 

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: pegging

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

pegging: in which someone penetrates another person's anus, usually with a strap-on dildo.

Excited was an understatement.

You were well-known. When you’d first started, you’d only been a camgirl recruited by the agency and had never had sex with another person on camera. It was liberating managing to do that, and even more liberating when the money started flowing in. You started having sex with bigger and bigger stars, and the amounts of money got unbelievable. However, today was the day you’d been waiting for.

Seo Changbin was another star in your agency. You hadn’t gotten the chance to film with him yet, because your schedules were always too packed, but you were a resident viewer of his videos. He wasn’t quite dominant, more of a passionate lover when he put his co-stars in a headlock with his muscled arms, but it made your clit throb nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to have him.

Except, not everything worked out the way you’d expected - that’s not to say it wasn’t in your favour. The agency had decided on a Halloween shoot, two of their biggest stars fucking on camera while dressed up in some raunchy costumes. You’d heard the premise and agreed on the script, but when you heard the plans they had for you… well, that was really a game changer.

A Playboy bunny skit was one thing, but a skit where you weren’t the bunny, but Changbin was? Now, that intrigued you. It had you flipping through the script to imagine it differently. He’d be in a pretty little black bodysuit, pushing those muscled pecs up and with cute ears perched on his head atop a headband. It sounded perfect. All you had to do was play the part of his dominant, the woman who was going to fuck his brains out with her biggest strap-on. It was easy.

It didn’t seem easy when you saw him. You thought you were going to go insane. Prior to the shoot, you’d been put in a pink satin dressing gown, soft ivory cotton adorning the wrists and the hemline. Obviously, you had nothing on underneath, and Changbin stood by the doorway to your dressing room, all muscled arms bulging over his bodysuit and a cut-out in the fabric showing some very appealing cleavage. Your jaw dropped.

“Hi,” He was shy, embarrassed despite bouncing over to you like he really was a little bunny. His ears shifted and he huffed, pressing the headband down onto his dark, curly hair. Your makeup artist fiddled around with your own hair, trying to get it perfect for the shoot. “I thought I’d introduce myself. We’ve never really crossed paths. I’m Changbin.”

You licked your lips, nodding to ground yourself. Be yourself. Be cheeky, be nice. “Hello. It’s so nice to meet you. It looks like we’ll be co-stars today, huh? Are you excited?” Damn, did you have to sound so formal?

Changbin hopped from one foot to the other, eventually settling on crossing his broad arms over his just-as-broad chest. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I’ve, uh… I’ve bottomed before, been pegged and whatever, but never on camera. I guess I just wanted to ask you to go easy on me.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” You blurted. Even your makeup artist paused. Changbin’s eyes widened. “No. No, what I meant was, like- you look good. You look hot, Changbin. I’d be lucky to peg you. I am- I am lucky to peg you.”

It’s just sinking in. You’re going to peg him, and you’re terrified you’re going to cum untouched. You’ve already forgotten the script.

“Oh! Heh,” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, staring at the floor with a smug, downturned grin. “Right. You’re hot too, by the way. Really hot. I’ve been looking forward to shooting with you, and since I found out the premise, well… I’ve kinda been looking forward to it even more. Is that weird?”

“Not weird at all, me too,” You gushed. Changbin finally reverted his eyes to you, a real, toothy smile adorning his face when he saw how excited you really were. “Have you- um, have you… y’know. Prepped?”

Changbin blushed, a crimson shade covering his cheeks. He was so cute, you thought you were going to have a heart attack before the cameras even switched on. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. The surprise, I mean.”

“I’ll like everything else, too,” You nodded solemnly. Changbin giggled, a chiming overtaking the room. You blinked when he turned around and bounced out of your dressing room, and your makeup artist sounded like she was choking back a laugh. You groaned. “Don’t.”

She grinned. “I didn’t say anything, honey.”

When you arrived at the set, Changbin was already there. The set was cute, at least, fairy lights adorning the walls and bed sheets a blush baby pink. He looked cute too, laying on the bed scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t dressed like the best bunny you’ve ever seen. You fucking loved Halloween.

You crawled onto the bed regardless, making Changbin jump and drop his phone. “Hi again,” You murmured, one finger running down his side. He jolted, giggling like it tickled him. “You really do look cute, Changbin.”

“Bin is fine. Even- even Binnie. I prefer Binnie-”

“Alright, quit the flirting,” Hyunjin chirped. Hyunjin was the best director you’d worked with. He didn’t mind if you went off-script, so long as it was all authentic and real. No fake orgasms, obviously. The sex had to look like art. Jeongin was his cameraman, and when you first met him, he’d been awkward and blushy - now, he looked at you with indifference apart from a cute grin on his pouty lips. You were so proud. “I know we sent you the script, but I’ve changed my mind. I want you to just kiss first, be natural, lead into whatever. Sounds good?”

That was another thing about Hyunjin. He loved to change the plans. You nodded, before briefly looking around the room. “Where’s the dick?”

“What do you mean?” Jeongin questioned, looking at Changbin. His eyes ran down to his crotch. “It’s there.”

“No, the strap-on, you idiot,” You huffed. Hyunjin giggled, before nodding towards the floor. Oh. There it was, clear as day, a bright pink strap-on that looked way too big to fit into someone comfortably. You hoped Changbin’s surprise helped him out with that.

Unsurprisingly, it did. Changbin rolled over onto his tummy and shook his ass at you teasingly with a grin, and you caught sight of a white fluffy bunny tail sticking out of a hole in his bodysuit. Oh. Oh, right. It’s a plug.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped, reaching down to immediately grab it. Changbin jolted, eyes widening, and you took your chance. You yanked his face towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a dirty exchange of lips, teeth and spit. You briefly recognised Hyunjin and Jeongin mumbling to each other, and then the cameras switched on. You pushed Changbin back, letting his toned back rest on the bed and then you were in his lap, ignoring his whine at feeling the plug pressing in further.

You kept kissing him, unable to stop. His lips were so saccharinely sweet, and you could feel one folded-up bunny ear from his headband tickling your head. His tongue darted around your mouth and he let his hands grab at your waist, clothed erection grinding up into your naked pussy. You pulled away, smirking at him as you ran your fingers through his hair affectionately, before standing up and walking away. The cameras stayed on, recording every step you took as you crossed the room to examine your strap. You had to get to the point, or you’d be kissing him forever.

“The plug’s very cute, bunny, but do you want something bigger?” You muse, running your finger over the strap. Changbin nods, lips kiss bitten as he looks at you with teary eyes. “You want my strap, baby?”

“Y-Yeah. I- Hnng. I want your cock, please, mommy,” Changbin gushed, thick thighs spreading to allow you between them. You could see the bulge of his cock, hard and fat and pressing against the black satin of the bodysuit. You raised an eyebrow, however. The mommy kink was definitely not in the script - was he this far gone already?

You smiled and let yourself get back on the bed, strap in hand. You moved your free hand to his side, thumb tracing across his clothed hip bone. "Mommy’s going to give you what you want, sweetheart, you don’t need to beg.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his once more and guided his mouth open with your tongue. You pulled away, letting out a low hum of arousal as he watched you with anticipation. Changbin’s eyes stayed glued to you, and you ignored the wetness accumulating on your folds as you let the pink robe drop, fully naked underneath. Your nipples were pebbled against the cold air, and Changbin’s gaze dropped to them, eyes widening.

“You like them, baby? Maybe you can suck on them while mommy fucks you nice and deep, yeah?” Changbin nodded, reaching out to you to pull you on top of him. You pressed your hand on his tummy softly, pressing him to the bed to calm him down. “I have to get the strap on, baby. Why don’t you take that bodysuit off for me?”

God, that was the best sentence that ever left your mouth. Changbin wriggled out of his bodysuit and he was left naked, all muscled, honey-toned skin revealed to you. His nipples were hard upon his broad chest, dark dusky peaks that begged to have your tongue running circles over them. His cock was hard against his soft tummy, short and thick and anticipating some attention - but your eyes immediately went to his cheeks. The plug stayed firmly inside his tight hole, fluffy material peeking out from tanned planes of skin. He really was the best bunny you’d ever seen.

Once the strap was firmly set on your hips, bright pink silicone alarming to the eye, you reached down to play with the plug inside his hole. He jolted, whining and spreading his thick thighs further for you, cock twitching in desperation.

“Please, please,” He huffed, chest heaving. “Please, mommy. I need something bigger, need something bigger in there, ‘s not enough, bunny needs-”

You cooed, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you, bunny, spread nice and wide for me.”

He obliged, letting his thighs hang over his hands in a pliant, open position, and then you reached down to pull the fluffy pom-pom tail out of his hole. It slipped out, still slick with lube, and you groaned lowly at the sight.

“C’mere,” You ushered Changbin, and when he moved to come closer, you let the fake cock hang in his face. “Spit on it, bunny. We’ve got to get it wet or it’ll hurt, huh?”

Changbin moaned, nodding with urgency, and then he was sucking the tip past his lips. Oh. That’s not what you meant, but you were absolutely loving the view. He sucked half of the length into his mouth, moaning around the silicone as if it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He was putting on a show for the cameras, you realised - you’d honestly forgotten they were there, too engrossed in the pretty bunny on display for you on this set.

You pulled the strap out of Changbin’s mouth, slapping the head a few times on his full, doll-like lips, before you were moving backwards to press it against his hole. The tip pushed in with no resistance, stretching his tight, little hole back out around the silicone. It was the rest of it that was an issue - Changbin thrashed around as the flared shaft entered him, stretching him further than the plug did and making him whine.

“‘S- ‘S big, mommy, bunny feels so good,” He huffed, cheeks blazing red. You could tell he’d lost all sense of coherence, and you understood why he’d never bottomed before on camera. He got way too into it. It stopped being porn, and started being more authentic - but then, Hyunjin liked that after all. You let your hips start to move against him, slapping against his skin, and he whined with approval.

You had to amp up the ante, though. “You’re like a bunny in heat, Binnie,” You mused, positioning yourself on your forearms above him. Changbin moaned, a guttural noise that made your pussy clench sadly around nothing. Maybe you could convince him to fuck you again after this, off camera. You thrusted into him a few more times before pulling out, making him whine at the loss. “Come and ride me. Hop on my cock like a good bunny, yeah?”

Once you were positioned on your back, Changbin scrambled to press his hole above your strap. In this position, you could see him properly, bunny ears askew and his cute cock bouncing against his tummy. He gasped as he sunk down on your strap again, the fake cock filling him up beyond belief.

“Oh. Oh, mommy, ‘s deep, deep, pressing against my, my-“ He cut himself off with a whine, hands coming to rest on your tits while he bounced. You cooed softly, hand rubbing over his thighs where they clenched with the exertion. He was quite literally bouncing like a bunny - he couldn’t stop his own movements, bunny ears flopping over his eyes and whines flooding out of his mouth. “It’s never felt this good. Oh, God, it feels so good, I need’a cum. Need to, oh, bunny needs to-“

“Ssh, ssh,” You mumbled, hand wrapping around his cock. It leaked beneath his foreskin, drippy and pearlescent as you started to pump it with a tight fist. You wanted him so bad - but this was about him. The cameras too, which you had forgotten about again. “Cum for me then. Cum on my tits, bunny, c’mon.”

Changbin wailed, hands moving to find purchase on your thighs. The change in position had him bouncing quicker, and you accompanied it with pumps of his cock at the same pace.

“G’na cum for mommy,” He mumbled, cheeks blazing crimson. It took two more bounces and you rubbed your thumb over his slit. When he keened, fingernails digging into your skin, you took that as your cue and aimed his cockhead at your tits. “Cumming! Bunny’s cumming, cumming, fuck!”

You watched in awe as his cock spurted out thick ropes of white cum, smothering your tits in the warm liquid. He gasped and writhed on the strap through his orgasm, hips slowing to a soft grind and eyebrows furrowing. You pumped him a few more times, letting him ride out his orgasm, and then you let his softening cock go for some reprieve. With one finger, you swept up his cum from your skin and sucked it into your mouth, humming at the salty taste.

Changbin huffed out a breath, collapsing on top of you unceremoniously. His headband slid upon his dark hair again and you giggled, pulling it off of his head altogether to run your fingers through it.

“Okay, wow,” Hyunjin huffed. You blinked hazily towards him, seeing him and Jeongin stood there with dropped jaws. “Okay. Okay.”

Jeongin giggled, pressing a few buttons on the camera. He grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, starting to drag him out of the room despite the fact that the elder man seemed rooted to the spot. “I’ll take him away. You guys did great, just chill for a minute.”

Changbin giggled against your neck, and then he shifted his hips, letting the fake cock drop out. On autopilot, you rubbed your thumb over his gaping rim, grinning when he jolted and gasped.

“You really didn’t take it easy on me, huh?” Changbin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You burst out laughing, chest shaking. “I did warn you,” You began, and then you felt awkward. He was snuggled up to your chest, sated and relaxed as if it was home, so… could you ask him? “Bin. Do you want to, like… go on a date sometime?”

Changbin perked up at that, looking at you with his usual downturned smile. “I’d love to.”

[flowerandblood]

Death and Resurrection

The Gate of Salvation Universe Oneshot

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, sexual tension, anxiety, doubts related to faith, religious guilt, breaking celibacy ]

[ description: When the Pope decides, after drawing inspiration from TV series, that they will go on a date, she knows that she cannot refuse. However, it turns out that their adventure ends differently than they both expected and a boundary is crossed from which there is no return. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place a few months after The Gate of Salvation and The Songs of Songs. It can be read as a oneshot, but at the same time it is a complement to the entire series.

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Where are we going?" She asked apprehensively − they had never gone underground together before, the cramped, dark corridor beneath the Papal Residence through which he led her while holding her hand smelled of centuries-old dampness.

His attire also made her uneasy − he was dressed all in a white tracksuit, a hood over his head and sunglasses with white frames on his nose.

He wore this outfit whenever he wanted to get away somewhere.

"We're going on a date." He communicated softly, as if he was just explaining to her what they were going to have for breakfast. She shook her head, looking back in horror, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"Please, Holy Father. We can't." She mumbled helplessly, knowing that usually when he came up with an idea it was difficult to dissuade him from it.

She thought with horror that it was because of a TV series they had recently watched. He insisted that she show him the blockbusters she loved as a child on her laptop, so she decided to show him The Office for fun. She turned on a random episode and the main characters in it went on a date, leaving him bewildered.

She thought he would be disgusted by the jokes and humor in this series, but he was intrigued by something completely different.

"What's so great about dating? What's the point of it? Why can't they just meet up and talk about what's important to them?" He asked with a frustration that surprised her.

She realised that his years in the church and convent had completely disconnected him from the life he could have lived as a teenager.

She wasn't sure how she should explain this.

"It's true, however, you can't be serious all your life. Sometimes, as we are doing now, a couple feels like watching a film and just being together. It's pleasant then, for example, to go to eat ice cream, to take a walk in the park, to have shared memories, shared moments." She muttered, feeling embarrassed that her explanation was childish and that he certainly thought she was silly.

He, however, only pressed his lips together at her words, as if something in her words troubled him, his fingers beginning to play with the fabric of her dress covering her knees, trailing over her bare skin after a moment.

"Would you like to experience something like this?" He asked as if unwillingly, tense.

She knew she couldn't ask that of him.

What they were doing was too much anyway, and they both knew it.

She smiled at that thought, squeezing his fingers in hers.

"No, Holy Father. You give me more than I would dare to ask. I am happy and fulfilled." She said softly. His gaze lifted to her as if to see if she was telling the truth − his arm finally embraced her and drew her close, her cheek pressed lightly against his chest.

She was sure he'd forgotten about it, but he'd clearly taken her words so personally that he couldn't get over it.

"I had it all planned out. We’ll blend in with the crowd, have an ice creams, walk around the Vatican and come back. After this we can kiss if you want." He added after a moment, as if he thought that might be part of her ideal image of the event.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, feeling at once terror, discomfort and warmth in her heart, love for him, gratitude at how much he cared, how much he wanted to give her everything she could possibly need in his mind.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that when they stepped outside he hadn't let go of her hand − he intertwined their fingers together as they headed quickly down the main street between the cramped tenements, looking around.

"It should be somewhere in there. I checked on the map." He said excitedly, like a little boy pulling her behind him towards a café that held a huge fridge outside, where you could actually order ice cream.

She looked around as they got closer, afraid that by some miracle even though no one knew what he looked like, someone would connect the dots, someone would recognise him.

As if he always had to wear that bloody white tracksuit.

"Good evening." The girl standing at the counter greeted them, waiting for their order.

"Good evening. We'd like five scoops of ice cream in two different cones, please. What flavours do you want?"

"Five? That's too many, we won't eat it all." She muttered surprised, looking at him in disbelief. He turned towards her, his eyes hidden behind his glasses, all she saw was that he furrowed his brow.

"No? Are you sure?" He asked with disappointment, from which she scratched her cheek.

"I mean…if you are sure you can eat that much then, take it. I'll stick with two."

Holy Father seemed displeased, however, he cheered up when he saw the size of his cone with scoops in cream, vanilla, strawberry, toffee and blueberry. She watched with amusement as he struggled to eat with a plastic spoon what had started to run down the waffle into the bottom of his cone, herself taking her ice cream from the seller.

"How is it? Do you like it?" She asked with a laugh, seeing him lick his fingers, all sticky from the berry cream.

"Very much. It's delicious. What should we do now?" He asked, looking around, eating and at the same time trying not to stain his snowy white tracksuit.

"Let's just stroll."

They moved ahead arm in arm, looking around the evening skyline of the Vatican, focusing only on the food and this surprisingly pleasant moment.

"Have you done this before? Dating and all?" He asked reluctantly, as if the thought that she might have done it with another man before him made him uncomfortable. She looked at him indulgently, trying to hide a smile of amusement.

"Not really. I haven't had the opportunity. I have never been as close to anyone as I have been to you, Holy Father."

"Aemond."

"Pardon?"

He shrugged his shoulders, taking a bit of strawberry ice cream into his mouth.

"That's my name. I won't mind if you use it when we're alone." He muttered, visibly tense, as if what he'd said, the fact that he'd exposed himself to her terrified him.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, embarrassed.

"Very well."

After a few minutes, she could clearly see that the portion he'd ordered for himself had outgrown him − he was eating slower and slower, and it occurred to her that he'd gone pale when she'd long since finished eating her ice cream. He wanted to share his portion with her, but she shook her head.

"I can't fit any more. But if you don't have the strength to eat it, don't force yourself." She muttered, seeing him sigh heavily.

"Wasting food is a sin." He mumbled and continued eating, apparently trying not to think about the discomfort in his stomach.

It wasn't even a few seconds after he had squeezed the last bit of cone into himself when he vomited the entire contents of his stomach into one of the bins.

She ran up to him quickly, horrified, stroking his back, taking from his face the glasses that had rolled down his nose so they wouldn't fall right into his puke.

"Oh dear. Are you okay?" She asked tenderly, at the same time unable to hold back a smile of pity thinking that she had warned him after all.

He was like a little child.

When they returned back to his residence by the same route they had fled he wanted to go back to his room, although he usually insisted that she let him sleep in her bed.

"Let's go to my place. I don't want you to spend the night alone when you're feeling unwell." She said softly, grasping his fingers. He pulled down the hood from his head, all pale, fatigue in his eye.

"I ruined everything."

Though reluctantly, he followed her as she began to pull him towards her room. After he had brushed his teeth and brought himself to order, he lay on the bed without strength − he watched indifferently as she changed into her pyjamas, closing his eyes, as he always did when she revealed her naked flesh.

She was touched by how much respect he had for her, how important it was for him to treat her body with proper reverence.

She lay down beside him, turning off the lamp beforehand, his face immediately snuggled against her soft breasts.

"Do you love me?"

She froze and swallowed loudly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad under his cheek, her hand that had been stroking his hair stopped in mid-motion.

"I love you. You are the love of my life."

She pressed her lips together when she heard him gasp, an indication that he was crying but didn't want her to see it. It took him a moment to get more out of himself, her lips placing warm, reassuring kisses on his head.

"Forgive me for not being able to give you what you need."

"You give it to me."

"You know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder…" He began and hesitated, swallowing heavily, as if afraid to say his words aloud.

"…I wonder what would happen if I left, if I married you. I imagine we would have had children, a house with a garden. That we would have had a dog. That we would pray in the evening and then make love and it wouldn't be a sin."

She shuddered at his words, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down her back, her body tensed, all hot.

"− I − you would not forgive me for that −" She muttered helplessly. She felt him rise up on his elbow, his lips parted in an accelerated breath, his cheeks swollen from tears.

"− for what? −"

"− that I have destroyed your life − pulled you away from God and your destiny −" She whispered in a trembling voice, feeling a warm tear fall from the corner of her eyes onto the pillow under her head.

He looked at her with a gaze filled with pain, breathing heavily, playing with the fabric of her shirt between his fingers.

"− but it is in your presence that I feel his presence most strongly − as if he were in the room with us −"

"− the devil takes the form of angels −" She mumbled wearily, letting the air out loudly, feeling that her throat was squeezed with pain.

Was this the moment?

The moment when she would have to say farewell to him, do the right thing?

"I have deceived you for too long. Forgive me. I will give my official notice tomorrow."

He looked at her dully, as if he didn't understand what she had just said, his breath stuck in his throat.

"− you said you love me −"

"− I do −"

"− that you won't leave me alone −"

"− I won't leave, not in my prayers − but I'm destroying your life, pulling you away from what matters −"

"− is it because of this stupid date? − I regret ever taking you there −" He hissed, as if he was furious at his idea and the woman who sold them ice cream.

"− no, of course not − Holy Father −"

"− Aemond −" He growled.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing hard, the first time she had seen him like this − his jaw clenched, his nostrils twitching in accelerated, anxious breathing, his gaze dark and cold.

She didn't recognise him.

"− don't you remember what I said to you when I first met you? − there is no greater sinner in the world than me − because I am eternally, eternally thirsty −" He said slowly and carefully, like a predator who was just slowly preparing to lash out at its prey.

"− do you think you know what I desire? − what I really need? − I'll show you −" He said lowly, not even giving her time to reply − his lips immediately clung to hers in an aggressive, impatient kiss that took her breath away, a startled, muffled squeal escaping from her throat.

She felt his body pressed her back against the bed as his hips began to rub his hard manhood hidden under the material of his sweatpants to the spot between her thighs making her shake with a strong, wonderful shiver of pleasure.

"− mghm −" She mumbled out, clenching her fingers in his hair as she felt his slick tongue invade deep into her throat, licking her with its tip − she was panting into his mouth, shocked, involuntarily responding by rocking her hips to his movements.

"− undress −" He breathed out, rising up on his knees, pulling the material of his sweatshirt over his head with a quick, impatient swipe of his hands − she stared at him with wide eyes, feeling her insides clench greedily around nothing at the sight of his bare chest.

Her trembling fingers quickly rose to the buttons of her shirt, undoing it one by one, exposing her skin piece after piece. She shuddered and moaned, surprised, as his hands pushed the material aside, revealing her breasts and stomach.

His lips parted in desire at the sight − his hand tentatively rose higher, running gently over her bare flesh, kneading and massaging her breast between his fingers.

For the first time he was looking at her naked body, at what he was doing, and she felt like she was going to die of desire. It seemed to her that everything that happened next was like a dream − his swollen lips that clung to hers, their panting as they impatiently slid every piece of their clothing off each other, when at last his bare skin pressed against hers.

"− Aemond −" She gasped out into his mouth, feeling his thick length rubbing against her achingly swollen folds, their hands trailing blindly over their naked, sweaty bodies, pressing into their exposed skin as if to melt them into one.

"− fuck − so warm − so soft − like silk −" He murmured, sliding his lips down to her jaw, neck and shoulders, leaving wet, sticky trails behind − her body arched back with her innocent, surprised whine as his mouth finally pressed down around her puffy, hard nipple and began to suck on it.

"− yes − God, yes −" She mumbled, involuntarily spreading her legs in front of him − she heard his grunt of delight as he moved his hips back in a soft motion so that a moment later she could feel the fat, leaking head of his cock begin to push against her slick opening.

She guided him with the movement of her body to where he should slide in, only to hear his sigh of delight a moment later as he thrust deeply into her with an impatient, desperate push of his hips.

"− yes − yes, yes, yes −" She panted, tilting her head back with her eyes closed, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his buttocks, startling him as she threw her legs around his waist, crossing them over his back.

Nothing but grunts and noises of pleasure left his throat as, with his lips pressed against her nipple, he pounded into her again and again with deep, greedy, fast thrusts, from which their bodies slapped against each other again and again with loud, sticky splats.

For the first time in her life, she was experiencing something so animal and spiritual at the same time − him deep inside her, stretching her tight, fleshy walls apart, doing what was natural to man, what Adam had done to Eve back in Eden.

"− forgive me − I −" He breathed out at last, as if with each successive brutal thrust of his hips he understood that there would be no turning back from this, that they had crossed a line after which nothing would be the same again, that he would take her for himself in every sense of the word.

"− inside me − please, inside me −" She mumbled helplessly, thinking only of the fact that she craved his seed inside her, that she could be his lover, his whore, bear his children if it meant spending her life by his side.

By the side of the man she loved.

She reached her peak with a sweet little moan of relief at the thought, at the image of herself and him, holding their children in their arms. She heard him gasp loudly at her words and closed his eyes, panting heavily as she suddenly felt something hot and sticky squirt out of him deep inside her.

"− f-fuck − fuck, oh, God −" He mumbled out, rocking his hips inside her with a loud click of their shared wetness for a moment longer, his mouth wide open, his eyes closed, as if he wanted to remember this moment forever.

After a moment, he looked at her − there was a calmness in his eyes and some kind of certainty, as if he already knew what was right.

"− marry me −"

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

Waheeda Rehman (Chaudhvin Ka Chand, Pyaasa, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)—90+ films and counting, an absolute legend of Hindi cinema. When I see her in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam it makes me want to chew glass

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

Waheeda Rehman propaganda:

Linked gif

Linked gif 2

[brimleysbears]

(Featured media: Burl Ives and Rock Hudson - from The Spiral Road, 1962)

"Fan" fiction erotica - "Hollywood Confessions: My Date With Big Daddy"

Post 4 of 4

Epilogue:

A Horny Old Bull

To conclude, I was in fact on the pill, after all, it was 1963; therefore no, I didn’t begat a cute little chubby Ives child, although sometimes I wish I had. Although that man could be a bit of a creep at times, like most men I suppose, I’ll never forget that night with Big Daddy. In fact, as much as it was embarrassing, there were other reasons why I kept that story to myself after all these years. I admit, that was the most fun I’ve ever had with a man. Sometimes I question whether I was head over heels in love with that big old brute.

As much as I wanted to see him again, I found out soon afterwards that he had actually scheduled all of those men to see him that night with the intention of not telling me, while planning on having sex with me, in order for the meetings to coincide with his coitus. I never found out exactly why he did that, and if it was his intention to use me or not. I was angry for a season and never wanted to see him again after that, but looking back, I regret not seeing him more times. I would have liked to get all of his seed in me and looked at him face to face the entire time that he had his climax. I would have liked to try other things with him, and maybe even be his mistress when he was working in Hollywood. The more I learned about what probably did happen, was that he was proud to seduce a young dancer like myself, and although I don’t like to be someone’s ‘bragging rights’, in a way I felt honored. One of the older ladies at the Manhattan cocktail party said, “sounds to me like he was just trying to get those businessmen off his back and find ways to taunt them.”

As I spoke to my girlfriends late that night, finishing my story, one of the women remarked that, perhaps that lonely old man being away from home needed a special companion, and not another ‘high-profile figure’ like himself? As we talked, one of the more educated ‘uptown’ ladies said, “if you ask me, like a lot of men in show business those days, he was desperate to try to prove that he was a heterosexual; in a similar way they constantly had to deliver proof they were not some kind of communist as well. After all, Mr. Ives worked closely with a lot of queers like Tennessee Williams and was even filmed naked along side a half-naked raging fag, Rock Hudson, just a year or so before your ‘encounter’. Although I might say there’s probably a little pink in his blanket, Big Daddy sounds like a man who was not ‘light on his feet’, in fact, quite heavy handed like your story implied, which I found to be most intriguing. I think you’ve not only made a believer out of all of us in the room, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of us are going to start chasing after men like Sebastian Cabot – you’ve certainly piqued my curiosity about a kind of man I would have not previously considered and for that, I am indeed charmed.”

But it was another lady who might have had the best explanation: “did you ever consider the fact that although Big Daddy was a bit of a sex symbol in the 50’s, that Burl Ives in the 60’s was starting to get typecast too much in children’s and family shows to the point where the public was referring to him as asexual? If I were him, I’d want to prove to my collogues that I was a fully functioning sexual person with sexual needs and abilities. After a while, no matter what he said, chances are, his peers didn’t believe him until he found a way to show proof that he had a thriving sex life.” Maybe they were all correct. Maybe he was just another creep. Maybe he was someone really special. I do cherish those memories, and I still keep his private calling card with me in my purse all these years.

The End.

Copyright 2024 BrimleysBears

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Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743973229412106240/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743962348439666688/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 3

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743868840199536640/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 4

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743867190420307968/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

[lunarw0rks]

I have been wanting to send in a request for a while now, but have been too shy to do so 🙈

TF-141 watching Coraline for the first time with Reader?

☾𓂃❛🍰❜┊ tf!141 watching coraline // headcanons

warning(s): none, just fluff ♡ masterlist // requests // ask box

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

price ᰔ hesitant at first because he typically enjoys serious cinema. he was expecting a children's movie — not a girl trapped in an alternate dimension. ❝this is too confusing for me, love. those two aren't her real parents?❞ spends most of it with his eyes glued to the screen, his best attempt at following along.

❝how is this film for kids, sweetheart? children's souls?❞

simon ᰔ often doesn't have time for movies, but tonight you picked one without bickering. though he would never say it, he quite enjoyed the film. spent half of it with his eyes half-open, but based on the squint he has — he's amused. bits of it, like when she reunites with her real mother, heals his inner child. + wybie wears the same skeleton gloves as him!! might even earn a chuckle if you're lucky :)

❝bit with the mice was stupid...❞ (but was tapping on his thigh to the rhythm lmao)

soap ᰔ claymation movies freak him out, but he'll never admit that to you. oh, and that black cat? freaks him out too. but is johnny gonna turn down movie night?? never. ❝no, i love it, bonnie! it's just... different.❞ loops his arm around your shoulders, only truly enjoying the movie when he sees your little reactions of nostalgia. probably lowkey crushing on the other mother...

gaz ᰔ had never heard of coraline before, but can't resist once he hears your excitement while you recite bits of the plot. finds the parts w/ wybie & coraline the most amusing. makes you pause anytime he gets up; he's deeply intrigued. when he comes back, he's humming the mouse circus song + probably will for days to come.

anyone asks what it's from? ❝oh, that? i made it up :{ ...❞

a/n: this is rlly bad, but fun to write. one of my fav movies growing up, still is <3 anon has immaculate taste

[ineffably-human]

Okay, so: the hypnosis!

Nandor's actually the one who wasn't great at it in the past, yes, whatever. I'm fine with those kind of details being all over the place, personally. Even though it's weird.

What's intriguing me more is that this is clearly a runner. We've heard it mentioned two episodes in a row that they're starting to overly rely on hypnosis as a means of dealing with their slip-ups, specifically when they accidentally reveal themselves as vampires. There's the question of it impacting the minds of the humans around them, in the long-term.

Combine that with:

Sean (their biggest link to the normal human world, whose brain is already fucked up from hypnosis) appearing more frequently.

The vampires going out into the world more in all four of the episodes critics have had access to - and more after that, if the episode titles and summaries so far are any indication.

Nandor does a verbal faux pas on a newscast, we have seen clips with all of them on the newscast as newscasters, is this for a mass hypnosis? (The second one after Nandor's at the basketball game, that was a lot of extras for a simple gag!) A mass coverup?

Colin is going to be running for public office, what's less secretive than that?

They're going to a Pride Parade, what's a better way to juxtapose secrecy than that?

Increased emphasis on the documentary crew. Does the neighborhood notice they've had a film crew around them for fiveish years now? What do they think it's for? Who's supposed to see this documentary anyway?

Guillermo still has another episode with his family coming up, the family that were hypnotized into forgetting major things that are still a part of his personal truth, things that would be a huge risk to the vampires if they came to light...

Between Guillermo's personal secrets and this increased emphasis on the vampires out in the world, not to mention the whole thing with Derek as a metaphor for infidelity, I think secrets and lies are the theme this season. The way change/transformation was a theme in season 4, and power and protection were the themes of season 3.

The 'lies' part of things can also involve self-delusion, that's how Nadja's piece can fold into it. Nandor and Guillermo's feelings about each other work there, too. (I think they know Guillermo has a little crush on Nandor, but neither of them realize just how much and maybe don't even believe it's still ongoing.)

And I think this is a great time to bring it up, because this season is about Guillermo maybe becoming a vampire at last - and I think the secrecy is part of what draws Guillermo to being a vampire. It's like a contradiction that's a feature, not a bug. He's spent a long time hiding major facets of who he is to everyone around him, and being a vampire means living openly, freely, while simultaneously being part of a secret species.

Hell, he's the one who gives us the thesis statement at the end of the season's first episode:

"Being a vampire is no different than being a human. We're all just doing what it takes to survive. We go on about our day. Blend in. Act like everyone else. But the truth is, we're all just hiding in plain sight."

I think the vampires are going to get into a situation that hypnosis can't get them out of, maybe something involving the documentary crew and the footage they've collected as well. Something that fully threatens to expose them, impact their safety, with no way of turning back.

Maybe it's something where only Guillermo, as the bridge between human and vampire he's always been, can save them. After all, what is he right now, if not stuck in-between?

[tired-biscuit]

Innocent reader knows nothing about sex but wants to please her current boyfriend?? WHO better to ask for advice than her step brother kiba? He could surely show her the ropes- show her how she should be getting fucked. How he could be fucking her instead. Maybe he would fuck her so good she would leave that good for nothing boyfriend of hers.

18+ fem!reader // cw: stepcest, virginity loss, infidelity.

he smiles when you linger by his door one afternoon, finally having the balls to ask him for his help.

the room is hot. it's one of those unbearable days in the year when the air itself weighs heavy on your shoulders and the concrete outside looks like it'd melt the soles of your shoes right off if you ever decided to take a single step out the front door. blinding sunlight seeps between the parted curtains, which open up way for an occasional breeze to come swooping in from time to time. it paints the walls a mellow orange.

the little gust of wind - which you'd call mundane, at best - fails to cool down your heated skin, and it doesn't strike you as shocking, really. nearly saturated with sweat; your cutesy top has long since become flushed to your spine, uncomfortably clinging to your skin despite being cropped. it's so hot out that even the little hairs on the nape of your neck have turned damp. a cold rinse doesn't sound like such a bad idea to be quite honest.

however, the heat is not the only reason as to why you're sweating in such great amounts. your core temperature also rises because the expression that now rests on your stepbrother's face seems to be one of pure amusement. he even tilts his head to one side like a puppy would as he turns away from his computer screen to look at you. no wait, scratch that; he doesn't just look at you.

he leers. practically eyes you up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes like a proper bastard as he leans back and swivels in his gaming chair. the dark look in his eyes and the hazy tension to accompany it make your nipples harden. from the way he's staring so openly at your chest, you don't doubt that he's noticed them turning apparent underneath your shirt. there's no bra to shield them.

"you want me to do what?" he asks at some point, looking you in the eyes finally.

the question - no, the tone - he now voices makes you start sweating even more profoundly. there's a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he notices the way your hand twitches with desire to reach up and wipe away the thick film of salt that's now sitting on your forehead. they're rosy and plump - his lips. never chapped, except during an especially cold winter, because he always keeps a water bottle nearby that's bigger than your goddamn head just so he can consistently hydrate during his workouts over the course of this hellish summer.

being a gym rat has its quirks, you suppose. the appealing muscles, broad shoulders and jaw-dropping strength don't sound too bad, now that you think about it.

brushing away the thought, you watch with narrowed eyes as he takes his headphones off and leans over his desk to pick up said water bottle, now. trying not to pay any mind to the warmth that increases somewhere in the pit of your stomach whilst you watch him drink the cool liquid, you know damn well that the way his throat moves every single time he swallows shouldn't make you so intrigued. that when he bites through an ice cube, the sound and sight of it shouldn't make you visibly shiver.

but you just can't help yourself.

you're finally ready, after all; ready to indulge in the dirty thoughts that have been plaguing your mind for a long while, and to lose your virginity in the process, too. ready to impress your boyfriend with some skills he definitely wouldn't expect you to have, but would otherwise enjoy experiencing them nonetheless.

and speaking of your boyfriend: what's important is that he's the reason as to why you're here in the first place, not kiba, your mean stepsibling. that he's the reason why you're willing to learn how to acquire those nasty skills with the help from another man, who just happens to be your stepbrother. in your defense, it's not like you've planned it! your one year anniversary is right around the corner and this is just way more convenient than trying to land a hookup that might end in disaster.

so as you stand there, looking at those big brown eyes that nearly gleam with twisted delight, you swear to yourself that wooing your boyfriend is the only reason why you're offering yourself to your big brother now.

and yet, all you say is, "ugh, never mind."

however, when you turn to run away just like you always do with your problems, there's an immediate, steady pressure wrapping around your wrist. you have no idea how he's managed to reach you so fast, but before you've even fully succeeded in stepping away from the doorway, he's right there, standing beside you.

his grip is cautious, albeit firm when he spins you around so that he can look at your face again. avoiding eye contact by keeping your chin tucked low, you internally scold yourself for always forgetting how swift he can be when he wants to be. there's something eerily cat-like about him, even if he reminds you of a dog when it comes to his godawful personality.

and that dog in him really shines through when he roughly pats your cheek and chuckles. by the time you try to push his hand away, it turns into quiet, most definitely provocative laughter. what a douchebag.

"easy there, squirt," he says mid-laugh, letting go of your wrist just so he can close the door shut behind you. it's just the two of you, you're home alone for who knows how long, but the action still makes you feel slightly wary. especially as he leans down to your eye level to add, "where are ya runnin' off to all of a sudden, hmm?"

glowering up at him at the stupid nickname he simply refuses to stop using for you just because you're a couple of years younger than him, you chide, "forget it... it was just a stupid idea, moron."

"yeah, it was," he mumbles, nodding vehemently just to spur you on. "but, i never said i wouldn't do it."

that surprises you. "wh-... what?"

he smiles again at the obvious shock you exhibit, and only when you spot the dimple appearing in his right cheek, do you notice how close he actually is to you. there's no actual proximity; you can smell his inviting scent, can see the ring of amber in his irises. his tan skin looks like it's glowing in the golden hour, and the fact that he's shirtless, only wearing black gym shorts that hang dangerously low around his waist, does not help you at all when it comes to ripping your gaze away from him.

the small amount of freckles that are dusted all over his sun-kissed shoulders and the bridge of his nose only make him seem even cuter than he already is, despite the fact that his vocabulary is absolutely foul as he says, "well, since you're offering... lemme get your little virgin cunt ready for your stupid boyfriend, then."

time either seems to come to a full stop or starts moving insanely fast after that, because one second you're standing at your big brother's door, glaring up at him in evident disapproval, and the other you're laying on his bed; squirming on top of the mattress he keeps pressing you into with his immense weight.

he sighs as he flicks up the hem of your shirt to the collar so that he can see your tits. you're not entirely sure if it's an appreciative one, but his eyes do light up at the sight and his cheeks are ever so slightly pink as he says, "did he eat you out already?"

you can barely function from being exposed so easily. he really has no sense of privacy, does he? "y-yeah, once."

he brushes his thumb over your nipple as he cups the fat of your breast with one hand. it's hard to keep yourself from arching your back until it's shaped like one of those old-timey bridges. "was it any good?"

"i mean, it was okay." a small pause forms as you think and sink your teeth into your bottom lip. "i didn't know where to put my hands, though, and that made me spiral a bit... i guess i kept overthinking the entire thing."

it's true what you tell him when he dips down to peck your jawline; you really were overthinking it whilst your boyfriend tried to give you head. however, as he kisses his way down your stomach, unceremoniously ridding you of your shorts and panties along the way, it's different.

because five minutes later, you have no time to form a thought, much less overthink it. the way he knows how to overstimulate you with his mouth is indescribable. moans keep bubbling up your throat as he licks you; loud slurping noises - lewd-sounding enough to make a feverish blush sear your face and make you cum all the harder - emit as he fucks your virgin hole with his tongue and fingers.

he's got you splayed wide open for him with the help of his hand on your thigh even if you're not used to being so exposed and vulnerable. it's insane to look down; to see the tip of your brother's nose smushed against your clit in broad daylight, to see his eyelids turning heavy with lust from how pussy drunk he's getting on his little sister's cunt. his chestnut hair is all mussed up from how many times he's made you run your hands through it. it makes him look all the more appealing, because the messy look has always suited him better than neat button ups and fancy shoes.

holding fistfuls of it and tugging at the roots whenever he hits a rather sensitive spot within you, you suppose he's taught you where to put your hands at least. perhaps this entire thing really will help you get ready for your anniversary with your boyfriend, who you're so happily cheating on right now. perhaps.

but truth be told, you're not thinking about your anniversary or your boyfriend at all when your brother finally gets to sink into you for the first time. when he makes you wrap your legs around his waist and pushes in deep - right past that pesky barrier that only he will be able to call his from now on.

and goddammit, breaking that barrier hurts; it hurts like a motherfucker. multiple tears slide down your cheeks when you blink, but he doesn't wipe them away. just watches.

it takes a bit of effort for him to push the entirety of his cock into you. you're nervous and overwhelmed and stuffed full with him, with anyone, for the first time, so it's normal. it feels like he's reaching all the way up to your throat, and with the way your eyes widen and your mouth pops open in response to the fullness, you're reminding him of a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car.

there are even more tears brimming your waterline, now. you whimper when they cling to your eyelashes. "it hurts."

"i know," he grits out, panting. yours is the tightest pussy he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing and the way it clamps down around his fat cock, despite the ache you're enduring at the moment, feels like a dream. it makes him sneer with arrogance as he mutters, "but look at it this way... if you're able to take me, then i'm positive you'll have no trouble taking that dunce of yours."

"you think your dick is bigger than his?" you try to quip, though it doesn't come across as sassy as you want it to when you're in-between whines and your eyes insist on rolling into the back of your head. stupid, stupid, stupid.

"i dunno, you tell me," he replies, his grin complacent. "you're the one who gave handjobs to both... wanna play slutty critic?"

"well- ah, fuck," a small, mewlish moan slips out when he strokes your walls for the first time. you're not sure if it's from the pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both, but the throbbing hardness that touches your sensitivity inside makes your legs shake. the squishy, soft part within you is so tender. "i-it isn't."

he snorts at your sad little jab, the sound so derisive that it makes your heart tighten, not just your cunt.

"yeah? you're sure 'bout that, sis?" he draws his hips back and adds a little more fervour to his thrust this time, watching as your entire body stutters with the action.

he nearly makes you glitch out of this reality with it and the wanton cry you let out in response is so loud that it would surely wake up the entire house. thank goodness you're home alone.

his grin grows absolutely vicious as he looks down at the place where you connect. your cunt is so soft and warm, it sucks him right in. and as if the moan alone wasn't proof enough, he even gets to feel your toes curl and your heels dig into his lower back when he spreads your pussy lips apart with his fingers and spits right onto your clit.

he leans in to whisper into your ear whilst he messily smears his saliva into the sensitive button of nerves, "'cause i can't help but keep wondering; could your little boyfriend make you sound like i just did, mm?"

could he?

[sweetercalypso]

Sober || Joel Miller

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: When Joel needs a break from reality, he finds the perfect distraction in a QZ dive bar

Notes: minors dni; alcohol consumption, hair pulling, grinding, unprotected p in v sex, afab reader, dom (ish) reader, strangers to lovers, one-night stand

Life in the QZ was split into two parts: the time spent working, and the time spent forgetting what you do for work.

Most days, the weight of existence was bearable – if only just enough to get through until tomorrow. But tonight, Joel was at his limit.  

He leaned his weight against the sticky bar and tucked his nose into his dirty shot glass. Even the tang of cheap liquor wasn’t enough to remove the film of smoke in his lungs, the ash smudged over his knuckles and the tops of his filthy boots.

Tonight, he just wants to forget.

Burning bodies of infected and erring scavengers was one of the most repugnant jobs available in the QZ, but it was by far the highest paying, and Joel frequented the venture more often than he could stomach. It was harrowing and back-breaking work, and he didn’t like to think about it any more than he had to.

He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, blinking away the memories replaying on a loop in his head.

A pair of fresh work boots tap languidly beside Joel’s feet where his distant gaze had inadvertently landed. He looks up to find a new figure sitting next to him, and he wonders when the transition between patrons had been made.

With hands wrapped loosely around a half-finished bottle and a blissful haze softening your features, Joel figures you’ve been beside him for quite some time. It’s a shame he hadn’t noticed until now.

“What’re you drinking?” he asks, leaning in to hear your response over the clamor of drunken workers scattered through the bar. His head feels heavy, and he tries not to focus on the way his words run together.

“Dunno,” you say, chest heaving with a contented breath. “Someone said it was new, figured I’d give it a try.”

“Is it any good?”

You shrug indifferently, though the glint in your eye tells him you’re more invested in the conversation than you let on. “Do they serve anything good here?”

His mouth turns up at the corners, almost smiling in response. He takes his own drink in hand and raises it to examine under the dim overhead lights as if pondering what you’d said.

“No, I guess not.”

Easy silence stretches between the two of you as you nurse the remnants of your drinks. Joel watches your hands as you swirl your now-empty bottle in contemplation, fingers pressed against the perspiring, dark glass. Just as he puts his hand up to call for another round, you roll your shoulders back and stand to leave.

“Y’know, I live just down the street. Got somethin’ better than cloudy whiskey and stale beer there if you wanna join me.”

Joel knew the invitation was coming – he could sense it in the way your eyes flitted over his features, the way your lips curled with intrigue when he spoke. Still, the words swelled in his chest, provoking a fire that he was well acquainted with.

He downs the rest of his drink in one go, slamming the glass onto the bar and pulling himself out of his seat in one swift motion.  

“Lead the way, darlin’.”

–

The walk to your apartment is short, leaving little room for the callous small talk that Joel prefers to avoid. He’s almost delighted when you accept his company without asking what sector he works in or how long he’d been in the city – nothing to remind him of the day’s earlier events.

Your front door swings opens on stiff hinges and you lead him inside with little preamble.

Everything in the QZ was run down. Buildings crumbling under the weight of neglect, ceilings bowed by weather and disrepair, whole blocks going without electricity for weeks at a time. But from the work you’d put in to making your apartment look distinguished, Joel could almost imagine he was somewhere else entirely.

“You can hang your jacket by the door,” you say, shrugging off your own outer layers and draping them over the arm of the battered couch in the living room.

Little stacks of books and odd collectibles sit neatly on the coffee table, and if Joel’s visit didn’t already serve a purpose, he’d think to ask about their importance.

Instead, he watches as you rummage through a high kitchen cabinet, procuring a hefty bottle of something clear and swiping two shallow glasses from the counter.

“Don’t tell anyone about my stash,” you tease, rounding the corner of the couch and plopping down on the far end. “It’s not something I like to share.”

“I’m flattered, then,” he says, settling on the couch beside you with a strained grunt. The muscles lining his back are practically groaning after far too much of the same strenuous work, but he’s hoping that a bit more liquor might loosen him up.

“Took a week’s worth of ration cards to get this,” you mention offhandedly, twisting the screw cap off and pouring a generous amount for the both of you. “But it’s worth every cent.”

He makes a mental note to ask Tess about adding liquor to their import list, though he doubts he’ll remember this conversation in the morning.

You hand him a shot glass and he tips it into his mouth without a second thought, eager to move the night along. After another pour, his mouth starts to burn. One more and he melts into the threadbare sofa like he’d become a part of the furniture.  

When you swing a leg over his lap and bracket his hips with your thighs, his cock twitches in interest. Your fingers card through his hair and tug playfully at the roots, and Joel’s head jerks from the pleasure it brings him.

“You gonna make me feel good, handsome?”

Between the alcohol buzzing in his veins and your weight pressing delectably against his groin, it’s almost impossible for him to supply an answer. He settles for an affirmative hum and pushes his hips up into yours.

“Fuck,” he grunts, one hand clutching the arm of the couch and the other seeking purchase on your waist.

Calloused fingers twist into the hem of your shirt, rucking the fabric up enough to glimpse the smooth skin underneath. Joel’s mind floods with the need to explore further and, as if cued by thought alone, you strip the offending fabric from your chest, discarding it on the floor somewhere near his feet.

His hands skim up your torso before his rough palms find the warmth of your tits, pressing attentively into your skin.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart.” His head dips forward and he focuses his muddled attention at the base of your throat, leaving a winding trail of open-mouthed kisses up to your lips.

You taste the liquor on his tongue, the faint sweetness of his whiskey barely present behind the bitter strength of the vodka you’d been sharing. When he pulls away for a breath, he leans his forehead against yours and his eyes flutter shut.

“Yeah, that’s it. Keep those hips movin’”.

His hands are everywhere all at once, a dazed blur of pressure on your hips and lower back as he rocks your core against him. Even through your combined layers of clothing, you can feel the swell of his cock beneath you.

“Need these off,” you say, fingers fumbling over his belt buckle and tugging at the front of his jeans.

While you’re focused on his lower half, Joel works on kicking his boots off and popping the buttons of his shirt open with a fervent need to match your state of undress. You remove yourself from his lap just long enough for both of you to shimmy your jeans down your thighs before you’re back on top of him, mouths pressed together in a sloppy kiss.

Your fingers dance over the front of his boxers, dipping beneath the waistband and ghosting over the leaking tip of his cock. When your palm meets his length and you look up at him through your lashes, his thinning patience begins to show.

“That’s enough teasing. Where d’you want me?”

You seem to think for a moment before lifting yourself from his lap and urging him to lay across the couch with his head propped against the arm.

“Lay back. Wanna ride you.”

If Joel were a better man with more time to spare, he’d make you come a couple times with just his fingers or his mouth before he fucks you, but the room is already spinning and he can’t think about anything beyond the prospect of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock.

He slinks down into the couch and lets you take over, resting his forearm behind his head to get a better view.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just take what you need, darlin’.”

It’s messy, greedy, downright sinful the way his cock fills you up, the way you take him to the root in one slow dip. When he’s all the way nestled inside you, your hands fly to his chest for balance.

You lift up just enough to feel his length slide against your walls, just an inch before you’re seated on top of him again. He grunts at the effort of keeping himself still, and the sound fuels the urgency in your movements.

“Feels so good,” you croon, pushing yourself up further and dropping back down.  

Joel wants to commit this moment to memory; the plush of your kiss-swollen lips, the slick glistening on your inner thighs, the gluttonous distraction of a quick fuck.

His hips stir with the need to meet you halfway, though he doubts his drunken thrusts would be fast enough to match your pace.

It’s like you’re devoted to bringing him to his end with the way your walls squeeze his length. He huffs out a noise of content and rubs a hand over his face.

“Yeah, take it.” You’re searching for your own high, slanting your hips to drive the tip of Joel’s cock into that spot that makes you see stars. All too soon, you topple over the edge, hands clinging to his chest to keep yourself upright.

Joel rubs soothing shapes into your skin and picks up where you left off, working you through your release while chasing after his own. After a few more thrusts, he’s flexing his fingertips into the meat of your thigh and throwing his head back against the arm of the couch.

“M’gonna come,” he warns with a raspy breath.  

You pull his length out with a hiss and run your hands over him from base to tip, his sensitive skin still gleaming with your slick. His cock jerks once, twice, against your palm and he comes in pearly rivulets that land across your stomach and your closed fist.

You release his length to rest against his abdomen and he takes a heavy, shuddering sigh before pulling you down to bring your mouth to his.

“Gimme five minutes,” he says against your lips. “And I’ll be ready for round two.”

[morose-marble]

I can't stop thinking about Khem and his relationship to sex as power and where it lies in relation to his own experience of sexuality. I also can't stop writing rambly, unstructured nonsense.

As we know, there's no explicit indication as to how Khem identifies sexuality-wise, other than subtle hints that Chatra's positive attention pleases him somehow (the repeating of 'you did a good job today', the very slight smile and perplexed pause at Chatra's admission that he just wanted to spend time with him, and finally, his frankly reckless trust in Chatra in the tree). And of course, 19th century understanding of 'sexual identity' as a character trait was different from the present.

I would have been interested in seeing more of Khem's perspective of his own sexual identity, considering that there was a scene that addressed homophobia directly. The fight that broke out was essentially used as a plot device to get him alone with Chatra, so I'm intrigued as to why they chose to emphasise homophobic rhetoric, when it seems that it isn't really presented as the issue. In Khem's case, class always trumps everything else.

All instances of Khem's sexuality we see are completely predicated on exploitation, with no suggestion at all as to what Khem's experience is beyond that. He has sympathy for the courtesans, because he understands what it is like to be reduced to the value of the pleasure to be derived from one's body. The first encounter with Phraya Wichiendej and the Inao performance, combined with the opening scene of the film, establish (to me at least) that he is practiced at recognising men's desire to 'have' him in a sexual sense, but perhaps more importantly, to exact class-facilitated power over him (he isn't really in a position to refuse). The way he smiles up at Wichiendej upon greeting him, the tone of voice he uses, come off as deliberately deferential in a way he has learned strokes the egos of men who see him as lesser. He recognises that it is the only tool for security or potential advancement he has in that particular kind of social situation. Tragically, the delivery of his lines during their meeting also holds a sliver of tenacious hope for the compliments to really only be for his efforts and not a veiled assertion of dominance ("you please me and I have all the power I need to make you do what I want"). And who knows, this may well have been the case, as we aren't shown Wichiendej pursuing Khem in any way after the Inao performance. We get the flashback montage of Khem's history of being sexually exploited by what appear to be men and a woman. So, again, the sex part of this exploitation is primarily about power, to reaally drive home that Khem has never had agency over his body or in his life. It is his base trauma.

The fight is Khem being slut shamed to compound on the humiliation he already feels from having received a thorough and public dressing down from Kru Phikun. And to add insult to injury, not only is he a slut, he's potentially 'a gay slut' (D.E.B.S? anyone?). He's understandably frustrated and angry, because he has had no choice in the matter, like, ever. What we don't know, is how he feels about the accusation regarding the gay part.

We don't get to see him as a sexual being on his own terms, he doesn't do any explicit desiring at any point in the narrative. So, the question is, how are we to interpret Khem's reaction to the disparaging of sexual conduct between men specifically? That's a big part of the argument, even to the point of surpassing the accusation that he is performing sexual favours in general. In fact, his assailant makes sure to let him know that he thinks performing gay sex acts for profit is worse than being a female sex worker in man suang, because gayness is particularly disgusting. Khem demands to know who presented the claim and whether they have proof, and he does it in a defensive, aggressive manner, and understandably so. Rather than commenting on the gay part of the accusation further than denying it, he chooses to openly defend the courtesans, effectively aligning himself with them, negating any discussion of the gender specificity of the accusation, but implicitly confirming the sexual favours part.

Does he recognise himself as experiencing desire for men? Or anyone, for that matter? Can he, when the primary association he is shown to have with sex is power-driven transactionality, instead of pleasure? Clearly this has been going on for a long time, but how long exactly? How has this impacted his perspective on sex and sexuality?

I was actually quite surprised how much time they devoted to establishing this part of Khem's character, without it playing a more pivotal role in the plot as the story advanced. I was sure at the Inao performance that Wichiendej would be built up as some kind of lech whose downfall would lie in his classist underestimation of Khem as a person, clouded as he would have been, with lust and a sense of superiority.

That leaves it to be simply a building block of Khem's character background, with the purpose to elicit sympathy in the viewer and contribute to world-building. But how does he feel? What does he think??

I know that Apo mentioned in an interview that Khem is some flavour of alphabet soup (not sure how specific he was tho), but within the narrative, they leave us guessing on multiple levels.

My fanfic fantasy for this whole thing is Khem finally being given a chance to get to know himself and have agency in choosing what he wants. Emancipate the lad!!!