#Radiance films

[brokehorrorfan]

The Dead Mother will be released on Blu-ray on September 19 via Radiance Films. Broke Horror Fan has an exclusive first look at a new trailer for the 1993 Spanish psychological thriller below.

Juanma Bajo Ulloa (Airbag, Butterfly Wings) directs from a script he co-wrote with Eduardo Bajo Ulloa (Butterfly Wings). Karra Elejalde, Ana Álvarez, Lio, and Silvia Marsó star.

The Dead Mother has been newly restored in 4K, supervised and approved by Bajo Ulloa, with uncompressed stereo 2.0 audio. It comes with reversible artwork featuring new art by Time Tomorrow and the original poster.

A CD featuring the soundtrack by Bingen Mendizábal (Airbag, Butterfly Wings) is included, along with a booklet. Read on for the trailer and special features.

Special features:

Audio commentary by director Juanma Bajo Ulloa

The Story of La Madre Muerta - Making-of documentary with cast and crew interviews

Victor’s Kingdom - 1989 short film by Juanma Bajo Ulloa, restored in 4K

Behind-the-scenes and promotional image gallery

Trailer

Booklet with new writing on the film by Spanish Gothic: National Identity, Collaboration and Cultural Adaptation author Xavier Aldana Reyes and newly translated archival writing by director Juanma Bajo Ulloa and co-writer Eduardo Bajo Ulloa

Soundtrack CD composed by Bingen Mendizábal

Ismael (Karra Elejalde) breaks into the house of a fine art restorer and shoots the homeowner dead, leaving her daughter orphaned and traumatized for life. Years later Ismael is working in a bar where he sees the daughter again. Paranoid that she has recognized him and will report him, he kidnaps her and holds her hostage, demanding that her hospital pay a ransom for her release. As he spends more time with her a strange bond develops that causes him to delay the ransom request or fulfill his threats of throwing her in front of a train. But he can't delay forever...

Pre-order The Dead Mother.

[filmhoundsmag]

Truly Enigmatic - Dogra Magra (Blu-ray Review)

Continue reading Truly Enigmatic – Dogra Magra (Blu-ray Review)

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed: Killer’s Mission

[The following review contains MINOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WANRED!]

Unlike Angel’s Egg and Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis, Toei’s Bounty Hunter trilogy was not a hidden gem that I spent years hunting down; on the contrary, it was an unexpected gift that almost literally fell into my lap. I wasn’t even aware of the series’ existence until Radiance Films announced its limited-edition Blu-ray box set on Twitter late last year. I immediately pre-ordered a copy, of course—how could I possibly resist?—and this week, I finally had the opportunity to give the discs a proper spin in my player.

The distributor’s marketing emphasizes the franchise’s similarities to Eon’s James Bond movies, and the first installment—The Street Fighter director Shigerhiro Ozawa’s Killer’s Mission—certainly delivers in that regard. The narrative features virtually every trope and cliché that you’d expect from a ‘60s spy thriller: extremely conspicuous espionage (the protagonist’s infrequent attempts at subtlety and subterfuge invariably result in spectacular bloodshed), femmes fatales that are equally adept at combat and seduction (and who ultimately succumb to our hero’s rugged charms), and gadgets galore (mostly cleverly concealed blades, firearms, and explosives).

The only notable departure from convention is the setting of 18th Century Japan—and therein lies the story’s novelty. The conflict revolves around a nefarious conspiracy by Dutch arms dealers to provoke civil war between rival samurai clans, weakening the country’s defenses in preparation for an eventual invasion. While the latest shogun of the Tokugawa bakufu sees through the manipulation right away, he’s essentially powerless to prevent it: he’s been reduced to a mere puppet ruler, with his corrupt senior council pulling the strings from the shadows. Thus, he goes behind the backs of his crooked “advisers” and secretly employs the services of elite mercenary (and part-time physician) Shiroko Ichibei. His objectives: expel the foreign meddlers and maintain peace by any means necessary.

Obviously, the political subtext of this premise walks the razor thin line between anti-imperialism and proto-fascist nationalism… but the filmmakers seem to be sincere in their condemnation of tyranny and oppression, despite their apparent pro-government sympathies (a relative rarity when it comes to the traditionally anti-authoritarian chanbara genre). And anyway, problematic themes were pervasive in this era of pop culture; what truly determines the quality of an old-school swashbuckling adventure is its style—and Killer’s Mission has plenty to spare.

Tomisaburo Wakayama (best known as Lone Wolf and Cub’s Ogami Itto) does much of the heavy lifting; his charismatic lead performance and acrobatic stunts absolutely ignite the screen, ensuring that the audience never has cause to question the absurdity of his character’s borderline supernatural abilities. The writers make excellent use of the actor’s remarkable talents, and even throw in a few Easter eggs to appeal to devoted fans of his career. In one extended sequence, for example, he disguises himself as a bumbling blind masseur—a humorous reference to his brother Shintaro Katsu’s starring role in the sprawling Zatoichi saga (complete with a near perfect mimicry of his exaggerated mannerisms—rolled-up eyes, waddling gait, dry chuckle). Later, the primary antagonist ensnares him with a bullwhip and drags him behind a galloping horse—a variation on the climactic duel in Zatoichi and the Chest of Gold, with Wakayama now on the receiving end of the abuse.

But Killer’s Mission transcends these superficial (albeit deliciously satisfying) winks and nods, excelling on its own merits. Action-packed, gleefully gory, and unapologetically pulpy, it’s a genuine treasure of low-brow cinema. Normally, this is where I’d say that I looked forward to experiencing the insanity of the sequels—if I hadn’t already binged them both in a single sitting!

[misterveeare]

Movie showcase: Yakuza Graveyard (1976) Blu-ray Radiance edition. A blind buy for me but this label shows promises!

[blacklacerabbit]

All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (2023) dir. Raven Jackson

[jime777]

For day 3, I decided to draw a crossover of "The Little Mermaid" but with Marcia and Astrid <3

What if...

Astrid exchanged her voice and legs for a chance to meet Makalov again and fall in love with him... But instead, she ends up realizing what a lost cause he is and how much she regrets her decision.

The only way to break the curse is a true love kiss, and she has already discarded him for several reasons. But hey! He still has a sister, Marcia, who seems like a much more reasonable person. And she seems interested in Astrid as well.

[liminally-spaced]

[artemisbarnowl]

I got my sister a book for her bday and it's by an author I want to test out (I have another of her books on My to read list). Also maybe I read it and find out it won't be to my sister's liking and get her something else? Or I read it and know for sure it will be. And she thinks I just got it for me and am giving her a cheapskate gift coz I thought it was mediocre.

Edit: oh damn okay

[fuckyeahrobertaltman]

O.C. And Stiggs, Thieves Like Us coming to Blu-ray from Radiance!!!

Very exciting news today as the new UK-based boutique home video label Radiance has announced two new Altman releases coming in July! This marks O.C. And Stiggs’ first appearance in HD, and the Thieves disc is far more stacked with extras than the Kino release stateside was. Both are currently listed as Region B and will be available 7/17/23!

O.C. And Stiggs (1987)

BLU-RAY LIMITED EDITION SPECIAL FEATURES

High-Definition digital transfer

Uncompressed mono PCM audio

A new documentary featurette on the making of the film by critic Hunter Stephenson featuring new interviews with the cast and crew (2023) - more details to be confirmed

New interview with camera operator Robert Reed Altman (2023)

Altman on O.C. and Stiggs archival featurette (2005, 8 mins)

Trailer

Gallery of rare images

English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing

Reversible sleeve featuring original and new artwork by Time Tomorrow

Limited edition booklet featuring archival writings by Robert Altman about the film and his approaches to filmmaking

Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings 

Extras subject to change

Thieves Like Us (1974)

BLU-RAY LIMITED EDITION SPECIAL FEATURES

High-Definition digital transfer

Original uncompressed mono PCM audio

Audio commentary by director Robert Altman

Brand new interview with co-screenwriter Joan Tewkesbury who discusses the film and her working relationship with Altman (2023)

Brand new interview with star Keith Carradine (2023)

Geoff Andrew on Thieves Like Us - the critic discusses the film and its place within Altman’s work

Two classic radio plays featured in the film - The Shadow written by and starring Orson Welles and Speed Gibson of the International Secret Police starring Ed Gardner

Trailer

Promotional image gallery

English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing

Reversible sleeve featuring designs based on original posters

Limited edition booklet featuring new writing by critic Pamela Hutchinson; archival writing by Robert Altman; and a piece looking at the script development from the novel by professor Alan Schroeder

Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings 

Extras subject to change

[rhiltonfineart]

Happy Halloween 2023 🎃

Just received Radiance Film’s new Blu-ray set of THE HORRIBLE DR. HICHCOCK, a film that has long captured my imagination. Pictured here are Sinister Cinema’s VHS and DVD-R versions along with European Trash Cinema’s dupey transfer, Olive Film’s Blu-ray, and Radiance’s loaded two disc BD set.

[ghostfacd]

SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO

pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)

summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you

installment of this au | read for context!

Time 1: Tom Blyth

“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”

That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.

“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.

“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.

“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.

“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”

“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”

Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung

It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.

“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.

“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.

“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”

“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”

“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”

“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”

“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”

And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.

Time 3: Timothee Chalamet

“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.

“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.

“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”

“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.

“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”

“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”

“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.

bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her

view all comments

user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness

user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭

user3 shows that yn is rly a good person

timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR

view all comments

user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK

user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn

user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..

user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔

[filmhoundsmag]

A Tense, Oppressive Thriller - A Man On His Knees (Blu-Ray Review)

Continue reading A Tense, Oppressive Thriller – A Man On His Knees (Blu-Ray Review)

[esotericbluntbaby]

indelible

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: it's been a full year since you and hamzah broke up, causing you to go silent towards your whole friend group. after rekindling at a grocery store, mandy invites you to a party she's hosting. you go, noticing a familiar set of eyes staring at you throughout the night.

mentions: reader heavily loves pickles, angst and yearning (obvi), she/her pronouns, slight argument, ex!hamzah (who will be back for a lottttt of different fics), sfw!

blood orange is so freaking good i was listening to blood orange and got the idea for this fic <3

--

"martin, is that..?"

you turned around in the aisles messily stacked with assorted jars of pickles and olives, revealing a guy and a girl of your past: the faces behind the whisper. you gazed at the couple in front of you with a certain whimsical, yet surprised stare. martin and mandy were the two people who, at one point, helped toronto feel like home after moving there from the states. meeting mandy at a frozen yogurt stand after she complimented your outfit with welcoming radiance, you soon met martin and became apart of their small, yet comfortable and familiar group.

it was only until you met hamzah that they remained the people who created warmth for you to take in. you and hamzah had a specific energy, tying your souls together as if they were forever meant to be intertwined. chemistry erupted from the first interaction between the two of you; a nostalgic, childlike sense of happiness emerged between you guys similar to high school football games and puppy love. with hamzah, you were never scared. in fact, risk and excitement amplified itself within you every time you took your friendship with him a step further.

it wasn't surprising when hamzah decided he'd kiss you in front of martin, mandy, claire, and chase while at martin and mandy's abode. it also wasn't surprising when you two popped out as a couple a day or two later. the relationship your friends observed was one they rooted for; you knew in that moment that none of your friends would pity you at your wedding, which was new to you after trials and errors of different relationships with different guys.

it was definitely not a fairytale of your childhood dreams with him, actually, the complete opposite. you enjoyed the fact that your days weren't always fast-paced and full of moments that felt like it should be posted on some social media to get a thousand likes. sometimes, your days were slow. your days were filled with laundry baskets piled to the top and a race to see who gets to sort clothes faster. your days were filled with morning breath and uncomfortable, yet cozy positions in bed with hamzah. your days had occasional arguments, yet, they were always solved within a day or two. this was the man you wanted to marry.

however, you've always had the mindset of fairy tales always containing an ending to them, happy or not. you saw him less and less as the relationship went on, as his channel with martin was slowly but surely taking off the mainstream media. he began to hermit inside of his office, sometimes even sleeping there for days, almost as if the job was a ball and chain tied to his leg. yet, he also didn't want it off of him no matter how many times he's found the key. he would spend days without seeing you, seemingly by choice, leaving you worried and lonely. it was after a full two years and three months that you decided to end things with him for the sake of your own mental health, sanity, and wellness.

it was hard at first; honestly, you wanted to curl into a ball and hide away from everyone. martin and mandy were supportive, as they noticed all the times hamzah ditched you to edit or to film or to email. yet, each time you saw their faces, all you could see was him. so, slowly, "yeah, you can come over later," turned into "i'll see if i have plans," which eventually and gradually turned into, "sorry, i'm busy." you felt guilty, but you needed to erase him from your mind, like white paint to a canvas, in order to fully heal. it was never going to be a permanent thing, yet it's also been a full year since you last spoke to them. this was probably one of the most awkward things you could've ever encountered and on this fateful thursday night, you did.

"oh, hi," you softly greeted, rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand that wasn't holding the grocery basket.

mandy's gaze was as surprised as yours was, "wow, it's been ages."

"yeah, y'know... i've just been busy..."

"are you doing anything tonight?"

the guilt of being gone for so long finally decided to show up, chasing after your stream of consciousness like a dog chasing a bone.

"no, no i'm not."

--

without fully realizing until you were sitting in their dining room chair, you were now at martin and mandy's amicable apartment. a cup of tea accompanied your hands; for warmth or for comfort, you weren't really sure. it's been small talk for the past twenty minutes since you've arrived. guilt, as it always does, was still biting at your chest cavity like a parasite. so, to ease it away from you, you decided to speak about the elephant in the room.

"look, martin, mandy, i'm really sorry i haven't spoken to you guys in ages and just stopped responding. honestly, i guess i kinda saw hamzah every single time i saw you two. it hurt too much and i couldn't take it anymore."

mandy held your hand in her palm, "no, i get it-"

"are we pushing you too far by, like, bringing you to our apartment right after seeing us again without it being planned?" martin asked, genuine worry laced in his vocal infliction.

"no, no, definitely not. i've healed, already," you sipped your tea, "i was planning on contacting you guys soon. i guess soon ended up being, y'know, today."

"how have you been? or, like, have you healed from you and hamzah" mandy asked hesitantly; almost as if the mere mention of his name would've broken you like fine china being dropped.

"i've, uh, i've been alright- i guess, sometimes, i still think about him. it's inevitable. the mere thought of him chases after me to this day. it's weird, like, as soon as i got rid of his stuff, i felt okay; i felt fine and i didn't cry, but then there are days where i stumble upon an ad for fantastic mr. fox and i end up crying for weeks straight. i'm not really sure, y'know, when it'll end. hopefully, soon."

mandy's grip on your hand tightened as martin listened to each word you said, processing every emotion and memory held onto your words.

"would you ever get back together with him?" martin asked, as mandy lightly slapped his shoulder, "sorry, was that too blunt? or, like- fuck- sorry you don't have to answer tha-"

"maybe."

mandy's eyebrows raised inquisitively, "really?"

you placed your cup of tea down and started fidgeting with your hands, "i mean, i've always believed in that whole fate thing. destiny can't be changed and that type of shit. i don't hate him. i guess i- what's the word- resent.. him..? i couldn't hate him if i tried. i guess what i'm saying is if the universe decided to bring us back together, i'd probably be scared, but i also wouldn't oppose it completely. i don't know; we were young and i didn't know how to communicate and he didn't know how to balance. it's obvious that it wouldn't work out, then. i don't know about now."

"you seem to have thought about this a lot, to the point where you can talk about it in that way," mandy mentioned.

"so, you would give him another shot?" martin added.

you thought for a moment, "it depends on how that shot happens."

looking at the clock, you realized that it was now almost 10 pm. though you didn't have work or plans tomorrow, you didn't want to overstay your visit and leech onto them and their house. after all, the three of you just reconnected after a full year of absence and silence.

"i didn't even realize it was 10; i should probably get going, now," you got up and scooted in your chair.

mandy reached out to give you a hug, to which you returned, "wait, me and martin are having a get-together tomorrow. it's not a rager, but it's also not, like, lame, i guess. come. chase and claire are visiting and they've been asking about you lately too. everyone misses you."

the whole day was filled of taking chances and playing with the fate you previously thought you were aware of. what's one more game of odds?

"sure. i'll be there."

--

the house was dark, yet also thoughtfully lit with ambient lighting. shades of oranges and blues lit everyone's skin with a contrasting hue, reminiscent of a sunset on the ocean. there wasn't too many people there; if anything, you knew a good majority of them. yet, the thought of why you knew them, or the thought of hamzah's many introductions to get you used to his crowd, made your heart hurt a little. you arrived late, letting yourself in since mandy, nor martin weren't answering their phones. greeting a couple of familiar faces on your way in, you finally found your way to martin and mandy, speaking to chase and claire.

things felt normal for the first time in a long time. you were not alone, in fact, you were with the people who created what "home" was, in the first place. for being in a room with so many people who helped create the best atmosphere for you to thrive in, you still felt lonely. you didn't know it was possible to feel this conflicted; how could you feel lonely when you know you aren't alone?

suddenly, hamzah walked through the kitchen doors to the dining table you were sat at. a red crewneck and baggy, black jeans adorned his body, as well as the black sambas that were years and years old. the beanie that adorned his head, revealing tiny, black curls peeking out of it, complimented the silver chain on his necklace; you recognized it. it was yours.

"i could not find the cups, mandy, where are the cu-"

his eyes locked onto yours as if your pupils were magnets destined to be pulled together. you, then, saw what you witnessed when you first fell in love with him: nostalgia. childlike wonder. puppy love. the table went silent, watching this encounter unfold. everyone's eyes were widened in shock. in that moment, you couldn't hear the music, nor the people around you speaking, nor the drinks being poured or dog barking outside. the only thing you were focused on was the boy in front of you. frozen in space, you hoped you wouldn't have to be the first to speak. yet, you also never were the first one to speak.

"can we talk?"

you nodded, not knowing where this conversation was going to be headed.

--

you were both outside on martin and mandy's rooftop. you mentioned to him that you find it easier to talk when gazing at the stars and being in his presence, though, you were also dating at the time. you wondered if he remembered or if this was a coincidence. currently, you were sat in silence, waiting for him to break it.

"that wasn't the first time i saw you, tonight."

your gaze turned from the stars of the sky to the ones reflected in his irises, "what?"

"this whole night, i've been staring at the door. i wasn't really sure who i was waiting for, but i just felt the need to. now that you're here, i know now. i saw you when you entered and had a mini-panic attack in the kitchen. i don't even know what to say to you now that we're out here."

it became silent again, as you didn't respond.

he continued, "i miss you. i don't think there's a single day that went by where i don't fuck myself up for losing you. fuck, baby, i miss everything about you."

"you do?"

"there's so many texts i wrote you, but i just never sent them. i almost send, like, three of them a week."

"what do they have in them?"

"y'know, updates, my life, asking how you are, apologizing for being a total fucking ass."

"you were a total fucking ass," you teased, laughing ever-so-slightly, "it's okay. it's obvious you've changed and most likely grew."

he laughed as well before his face morphed into something more serious, "if you let me, i'll spend the rest of my life making everything i did up to you."

"and remind me what you did?"

"i didn't treat you the way that i was supposed to- the way you deserve. i'm sorry, i promise i'll fix things," he grabbed your cheek gently and nudged your head towards him, "please, baby, let me fix things. i'll beg, if i have to."

you sighed, "hamzah, i'm scared."

hamzah took out his phone and put in his password.

"my birthday? you haven't changed your password from my birthday in a full year?"

"yeah, uh, i just didn't want to."

he clicked on his notes app and gave you the phone, then turned to the sky and gazed at the different twinkling lights up above.

"what is this?" you asked.

"i write you letters whenever i think about you so much to the point where it gets overwhelming.

you read the first note titled "1/19," which was a couple of days ago.

1/19

hey, baby. how are you? i miss you a lot. i went to the store today and i got the pickles you like. i don't even like pickles. or, i guess, now i do. ever since we ended things, i go to the store just to get a jar of the pickles you liked. i think every time i eat them it makes me think about that one time you forced me to try one and i literally almost threw up because of how disgusting they are. i think i just eat them because idk they make me think of you. i hope you're doing alright. i hope your studies are going good. you're graduating in, what, like a year? that's crazy. i hope i'll be able to be there with you. i'm sorry, for everything, again. i say this in every paragraph. i fucked up. i know that, but please, please let me fix it. i'll be a good boyfriend, i'll even be a good husband one day. i promise. i'll talk to you again soon.

by the end of the paragraph, you teared up. looking beside you at him, a worrisome look entered his face as he gazed ahead of him; a second chance is the most desirable thing to him. he doesn't care about money, or fame, or sex. he's been yearning for you.

you copied his move; your hand made its way to hamzah's cheek, nudging it slowly but surely towards you. the twinkle in his eyes held hope, as did yours as it mirrored him. you sat there, simply looking into each other's eyes and possibly each other's soul; there was no rush, there was only love. your lips made its way onto his, softly, for a mere second. you pulled away as his lips chased after yours, kissing once again with a certain firmness and desperation laced into it.

"i'm sorry again, baby," he admits as he pulls away, "please, please let me back into your life. i don't care how hard or how long i have to work for it; let me earn you back. i can't live without you."

you smiled one of the most genuine smiles you've had in ages, "i trust you, hamzah."

"is that a yes?"

"i dunno. what do you think, idiot?"

--

author's note

goodnight guys! <3

[yassbishimvintage]

Just Us

MDNI: For the grown and the sexy.

Warnings: Talks of kids, sex positions.

A/n: Hey y'all. So here is that Aaron fic. Look its all over the place. And I highly recommend listening to the song before to set the mood.

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the sheer curtains of their St. John’s Wood home, casting a golden hue across the minimalist, yet luxuriously warm bedroom. The house was unusually quiet, their busy schedules clear for the first time, leaving Aaron and Cleo to savor the rare stillness.

Aaron stood at the vanity mirror, buttoning up a crisp black shirt, the fabric molding perfectly to his broad shoulders. His hazel eyes flicked toward Cleo’s reflection as she moved gracefully across the room, her silk robe tied loosely at the waist, revealing hints of the outfit underneath. She was effortlessly stunning, her skin glowing with that natural radiance he could never get enough of.

"You’re staring, Mr. Pierre," Cleo teased, applying a subtle gloss to her lips, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Aaron didn’t miss a beat, stepping closer to slide his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. "And I’ll never get tired of it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of her neck.

Cleo chuckled, her fingers briefly resting on his. "We’ll miss the movie if you keep this up."

He leaned back slightly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "Is that really a problem?"

They eventually managed to finish getting ready, Cleo slipping into a chic, figure-hugging dress with a pair of understated yet elegant heels. Aaron, in his tailored slacks and shirt, exuded that effortless charm she always admired.

As they walked to the Bentley truck, Cleo grabbed his hand. "It’s nice, you know—just us today."

Aaron squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "My favorite kind of day."

During the drive, their playlist filled the silence—an eclectic mix of old-school R&B and modern hits, songs that carried memories of road trips, late-night talks, and spontaneous dances in the kitchen.

At the cinema, they opted for one of those luxury screening rooms with reclining seats, plush blankets, and an intimate vibe. Aaron ordered their usual—popcorn layered with both butter and caramel (Cleo’s guilty pleasure), and a couple of mocktails.

Mid-movie, Aaron reached over, his fingers finding Cleo’s without looking. She squeezed his hand gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. For them, it wasn’t just about the film. It was about these small, quiet moments—the ones where words weren’t needed because the love was already woven into the space between them.

After the movie, instead of heading straight home, they strolled around the city, talking about everything and nothing, laughter spilling freely, just like when they first met. It was a simple morning turned perfect, wrapped in the comfort of familiarity and the spark that never faded.

-

Cleo glanced up at Aaron, a slow, teasing smile curving her lips as they walked hand in hand along the quiet streets of London. The soft hum of the city provided a gentle backdrop, but his question hung in the air, weighted with both playfulness and sincerity.

She arched a brow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, so that’s your agenda for today? A movie and a baby-making proposal?"

Aaron chuckled, pulling her closer until his arm wrapped securely around her waist. "I mean, it sounds like a solid plan to me. Quality entertainment, great company, and potentially expanding the Pierre legacy."

Cleo laughed, the sound warm and rich. She stopped walking, turning to face him fully, her hands resting on his chest. 

Cleo pretended to consider, tapping her finger against her chin dramatically. "Hmm, sleepless nights, diaper blowouts, teething… sounds dreamy."

He laughed, the deep, warm sound vibrating against her palms. Then, with a more tender expression, he whispered, "But also baby giggles, first steps, and watching them grow up with a family who’ll spoil them rotten."

Cleo’s heart softened, even as she rolled her eyes playfully. "You’re dangerously persuasive, Mr. Pierre."

Aaron grinned, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I’m just saying… we’d make a masterpiece."

She laughed against his lips, then pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his. "Well, you know me—I love a good challenge."

He smirked. "So that’s a yes?"

Cleo just shook her head, her smile giving nothing away as she started walking again, tugging his hand. "Let’s get home, and we’ll see who wins this round."

Aaron followed, that satisfied grin still on his face because he knew exactly where this was headed.

Aaron chuckled, his grip on her hand tightening slightly as they continued walking. "Well, can you blame me?" he replied, his voice low and smooth. "Your body’s basically my favorite subject. I study it like it’s the only thing that matters."

Cleo laughed, shaking her head, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks despite the years they’d been together. "You say that like it’s supposed to be flattering."

He stopped walking, gently pulling her to face him again. His hazel eyes softened, the playful edge giving way to something more sincere. "It is. I know every curve, every change, every little sign. It’s like your body speaks to me, and I’d be a fool not to listen."

Cleo’s heart skipped, her teasing demeanor faltering under the warmth of his words. She reached up, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "You really don’t play fair."

Aaron leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, soft and lingering. "Never claimed to."

They stood there for a beat, wrapped up in the quiet, unspoken connection that always seemed to pull them back to each other. Then Cleo pulled away slightly, her signature smirk returning.

"Alright, Mr. Pierre. Let’s see if all that studying pays off."

Aaron grinned, sliding his arm around her waist as they headed home. "Oh, trust me, Professor—I’m about to ace this test."

Aaron smirked, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint as he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"You really wanna know?" he teased, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of her hip. "It’s not just about the position, babe. It’s about having you right where I want you."

Cleo arched an eyebrow, amused but intrigued. "Oh, I’m listening."

He leaned back slightly, his grin widening. "Alright then. It’s when you’re on top," he confessed smoothly, his hand sliding up her back. "Because I get to watch you. Every move, every expression—you in control, but still mine. And when I pull you down just enough to kiss you? That’s my favorite."

Cleo’s laugh was soft, her eyes darkening with both affection and heat. "You really don’t know how to keep things PG for more than five seconds, do you?"

Aaron shrugged, unapologetic. "Not when it comes to you."

Aaron chuckled, his lips brushing over the back of her hand before resting it on his thigh as he merged onto the highway.

"Back shots are a close second," he admitted, casting her a quick sideways glance, his grin never fading. "But see, with that, it’s all about me—control, power." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "But when you’re on top? That’s us. It’s you owning it, and me losing my damn mind watching you."

Cleo smirked, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. "So, basically, you like being obsessed."

Aaron laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the car. "Babe, I’ve been obsessed since day one. That’s nothing new."

She rolled her eyes playfully, leaning back in her seat, her smile softening as she looked out the window. "You’re lucky you’re cute."

He shot her another quick glance, his grin turning into that smug, signature smirk. "Nah, I’m lucky you’re mine."

Cleo’s gaze lingered on him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, freshly defined by his new cut. The subtle glint of his chain peeked out from beneath his shirt, catching the light with every slight movement. His glasses sat perfectly on his face, adding an intellectual edge to his already magnetic presence. The way his hand rested on her thigh—firm, warm, and claiming without needing to say a word—sent a comforting shiver through her.

His focus on the road was unwavering, but his thumb absentmindedly traced slow, deliberate circles against her skin. There was nothing performative about it—just natural, effortless intimacy, like his presence was the anchor to her heartbeat.

She sighed softly, the tension she didn’t even realize she carried melting away. “You don’t even try, do you?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, more to herself than him.

Aaron’s lips quirked slightly, his eyes still trained on the road. “Try what?” he asked, his thumb pausing for just a second before continuing its gentle motion.

She shook her head with a faint smile, looking out the window, her heart swelling. “You just… exist. And it’s enough.”

At that, Aaron glanced over briefly, his smile softer now, filled with unspoken words. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Same way I feel about you, baby.”

And just like that, the car didn’t feel like a space—they were wrapped in a bubble, just the two of them, the world passing by unnoticed.

Aaron stepped out of the car with effortless grace, his chain catching the last hint of daylight as it swayed slightly with his movements. He adjusted his glasses with one hand while the other casually slid into his pocket as he rounded the sleek Bentley. His steps were unhurried, purposeful, like every motion was stitched with quiet confidence.

Reaching Cleo’s door, he opened it with a smooth pull, his gaze dropping to meet hers. There was a softness there—an unspoken tenderness mixed with that ever-present masculine edge she loved. His hand extended, palm up, the veins in his forearm subtly defined as he waited for her to take it.

Cleo slipped her hand into his, and the warmth of his touch sent a familiar spark through her. He helped her out with ease, their bodies naturally falling into sync as she stood. His hand didn’t drop away immediately; instead, his fingers lingered, sliding from her palm to her wrist, then up to gently brush the inside of her forearm.

“You good, baby?” he asked, his voice low, coated with that distinct rasp that always made her chest tighten in the best way.

She nodded, her smile soft yet full of heat. “I’m always good with you.”

Aaron leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of her jaw, then trailing softly to the shell of her ear. “Good,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Because I plan on keeping it that way.”

His hand found the small of her back as they walked toward the house, fingers spreading wide, possessive but protective. It was subtle, but to Cleo, it was everything—the quiet declaration that she was his, even without words.

-

Aaron disappeared into their expansive walk-in closet, the faint sound of hangers sliding along the sleek, custom-built rods filling the quiet space. The soft lighting cast a warm glow over the neatly organized rows of designer suits, tailored shirts, and an impressive collection of sneakers meticulously arranged on shelves. His chain caught the light once more as he pulled his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back flexing with the motion.

Cleo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his physique. His broad shoulders tapered down to a slim waist, the definition in his back a testament to his disciplined routine. He didn’t know she was watching—or maybe he did. With Aaron, it was always hard to tell because his awareness of her presence was almost instinctive.

He exchanged his tailored slacks for a pair of soft, grey sweatpants, the waistband riding low on his hips, and tossed on a black fitted T-shirt that hugged him just right. As he adjusted the simple yet perfectly styled chain around his neck, he caught her reflection in the mirror—a soft smile playing on her lips, her gaze unapologetically lingering.

“You just gonna stand there and stare?” he asked with a smirk, his deep voice carrying that casual tease she’d fallen for years ago.

Cleo stepped into the closet, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. “Can you blame me?” she replied, her fingers lightly grazing the exposed skin at his waist before sliding up to rest against his chest. “You make it hard not to.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, his grin deepening as he leaned down, his lips barely brushing hers. “Then don’t stop,” he whispered, before claiming her mouth with a kiss that was both soft and possessive, his hands finding her hips, pulling her closer.

For a moment, the world outside their closet ceased to exist—just the two of them wrapped up in the gravity that always pulled them back to each other, no matter how much time had passed.

Cleo lay sprawled across their bed, the soft linen sheets tangled beneath her, her chest rising and falling in slow, satisfied breaths. The subtle sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, catching the muted afternoon light that filtered through the sheer curtains. Her hair fanned out across the pillows, wild and untamed, much like the energy that had filled the room just moments before.

Aaron stood at the foot of the bed, his chest heaving slightly, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raked a hand through his hair, the chain around his neck resting against his collarbone, glinting faintly. His gaze never left her—admiring, possessive, tender.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with both pride and adoration. He climbed back onto the bed, settling beside her, his hand tracing lazy, feather-light patterns along the curve of her hip.

Cleo’s lips curled into a soft smile, her eyes half-lidded with that post-bliss haze. “You know,” she said breathlessly, “I was just trying to get dressed.”

Aaron chuckled lowly, leaning in to press a kiss to her shoulder, his beard grazing her skin, sending a fresh wave of warmth through her. “You looked too good to ignore,” he whispered against her skin, his fingers still drawing slow circles.

She hummed in response, her hand finding its way to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm. For a few blissful moments, neither of them spoke, just basking in the quiet intimacy that filled the room.

Then Aaron broke the silence with a soft laugh. “So… that dinner date with Kel and Simone?”

Cleo turned her head slightly, giving him a playful side-eye, her smile widening. “Oh, we definitely missed that dinner. But I think they will forgive us. Eventually.”

Aaron grinned, leaning down to kiss her again, slow and unhurried. “We’ll catch the next one,” he whispered, his hand slipping to intertwine with hers, their fingers fitting together like they always had—effortlessly.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @gopaperless @jenlovey @notapradagurl7

[nouearth]

poolside banters.

dick grayson x male reader.

summary: it's your final day at the summer resort, and dick has a way to end it with a bang.

wc: 3.4k. warnings: resort!au, explicit smut, blowjob (r giving), handjob, frotting, thigh-fucking, public exhibition, humping, body worshipping, muscle worshipping, established relationship, playful bantering, daddy!kink, big dick!dick resort owner!dick, thwaites!dick.

Large palm trees sprouted beneath the clear sky and bristles danced in pursuit of the mellow jazz that played from stereos. The summer was cooled by the gentlest breeze, and you could hear the wealthy patrons collectively ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ when the flame of their bodies began to simmer from a hard boil.

Across from you was the vast beach that swallowed the rays of the sun, glistening every pulp while visitors joyfully soaked within the dewy radiance. It was a scene straight from a feel-good film, and you couldn’t help but reflect the smile of fond memories onto your own face as you kicked back onto the lounge chair by the pool. 

The crowd around you was sparse compared to the beach-goers. Most preferred the finite space of the pool to keep their children in close proximity, while others, like you, preferred the light the sun gave out when they read a novel.

Jesus, he’s messing with you! How many times are we going to get back together with this douche?! You scoffed and turned to the next page of your thriller novel after flushing the character’s irrational decision to return to their toxic partner with a soda. 

Upon noticing the orange hue cast over the paper, you figured the next chapter would be better saved for the airplane ride back home. You slotted your bookmark in between the printed pages and set it on the table at your side, finishing the rest of your drink with several fizzy gulps.

“Quick dip before we head in?” Dick’s voice startled you and you inhaled sweet bubbles that started a coughing fit. You turned towards him after catching your breath, laughing when you’ve become infected by the light sound of your boyfriend’s chuckle.

“Oh, so now you want to swim?” Your hand reached over to shackle his dangling fingertips with yours and then hopped off the lounge chair and onto your feet. Quick tugs pulled Dick up, freeing him from the slumber that had captured him hours prior.

“I told you I prefer swimming with no one around!” He was awakened to his senses with a yawn and an overhead stretch, pushing his broad chest out and capturing the cast of light in the process. “Peaceful and quiet, and it’s not like they—“

“—can kick out the owner of the resort, I know, I know!” Your teasing always put Dick in a jovial mood, and he thanked you, like always, with a kiss when you pulled him up. As if he read your mind, or rather scorched his hand against the beating warmth of your skin, Dick slid your button down off your body and tossed it onto the chair.

“But I have a feeling there are limits, y’know!” You continued, leading the short walk to the pool. He stuck behind you, following and listening close with his arms wrapped around your waist. “There has to be something they won’t tolerate.”

“Tolerate?” Dick hummed, letting hands roam around your shoulders and arms first, and squeezing at the firm skin to relieve you of the muscle tension you’ve been complaining about since the airplane ride. “We should test out to see how much they can tolerate then.” Then his hands cascaded towards your bottom, cupping a handful of clothed flesh, but with the way Dick had kneaded your ass, the swimming trunks mind as well had become part of your body.

“Hey, hey—“ You jolted at the sudden touch, then cowered back into his hands because with an arch more; you’d embarrassingly expose how easy and quick it was to turn you on. You could hear him snicker into the back of your neck, a grin spreading wide, and you reached back to swat at his hands. 

“Dick, there’s people…” Your voice trailed off as you looked around, because everyone had gone back in now. Was.

He persisted, the begs only made him curl his fingers deep into your mounds in a similar way he had done to his stress ball. Red; the color of his ball; the color of his frustration when shipments were delayed; the color of assault when he goes out on nightly patrols. His chest rose and pressed against your back and when you reached back to hold his forearm, affectionate and loving; the red burned a lovelier hue.  

Dusk was settling into the sky, and all that was left was you and your boyfriend, and the pool that greeted you in a harmony of gentle waves. He squeezed your bottom, then hips in response, hooking his chin over your shoulder to peer at the solitude.

“That never stopped us before,” The positioning of his hands circled to the front of your trunks, and then past the waistband when the tent seized his hand. He wrapped his large hand around your length, squeezing softly as it grew into his palm, and you sighed. 

It was always easy to give into Dick. 

“Restaurants, parking lots, public bathrooms,” He began listing, remembering the fond memories with his own tent aiding his memory, twitching and prodding your bottom. “…clothing racks, back of the bus, during my meetings—“ Your cock grew harder into the gentle motion of his hand, into the memories that was more so evidence that you and Dick should be banned from traveling in public, pumping you into the familiar stiffness until your trunks felt like they had shrunk when Dick pulled his hand out.

You bit back a groan at the loss of friction, the mesh net of your trunks merely providing sufficient builds to your pleasure when you squeezed and rubbed at your tent.

“Noticed how all of those times didn’t start with me? I don’t know how you get horny so quickly—“

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Look at yourself right now!” Dick defended with a playful sputter, grasping you from the front suddenly and giving your cock a tug.

“Yeah!” You gasped, then laughed when he pushed you back into him, and his throbbing bulge. “Once again, you started it!” Teasingly, your hips pushed back in nonchalant swirls, masking it as a sway of dance while his hands were still kept around you.

“And?” He pushed forward, burying a groan into your neck while you swayed. “I always finish it, too.”

“True…” While your head leaned back onto his shoulder, peacefully swaying under the approaching night, you reached back and snuck your hand down his trunks to feel the source of the constant prodding at your bottom. “I can attest to that.”

“Fuck…” His voice lowered into the side of your neck, clutching at your hips as some kind of control to keep him from fucking wildly into your fist, even if you had tempted him with the tightening of your palm.

Dick grew heavy into your hand. You stroked the weight until it sank deep into your skin, until your wrist exhausted itself, until you were frustrated by the confines of his trunks.

“Back to the chair?”

Dick catalogued the surrounding area. Palm trees barely obscured windows, columns of the thick material enforced onlookers to hide behind them. The risks abound with every scan across the vicinity, yet the feeling of adrenaline surged through his veins, turning back to you with a hankering smile.

“We’re here to test their limits, aren’t we?”

“Fuck.”

“Look at me,” Your eyes swept from corner to corner at every little sound that set an alarm of panic, overriding Dick’s voice. It was quite comical to him, watching the caution in your eyes ignite with every blink while your hand soldiered through, stroking his cock by the pool-side. “Baby.”

“Hm?” After foraging the area clear, you casted your gaze upwards to meet Dick’s doting eyes, and the pain on your knees was suddenly more tolerable. 

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Even though you were always more hesitant to the idea of public exhibition, and Dick’s constant teasings of being caught didn’t exactly help, it always ended smoothly. His hand fell down to the back of your head, petting slow to placate your worries. “I promise.”

“You never know! I just don’t want you to get fired, or worse… open a press conference with an apology, and I’m joined by your side or something.” The thought made him laugh, then a sigh replaced the echoing sound when your lips wrapped around the plump head of his cock, sucking and laving your tongue around the glans reminiscently to the rhythm of the gentle pool waves.

“I did warn you that we’d be together every moment in life.” Dick sucked in the cool air as you took more of him in, freezing a moan into the walls of his throat. You held the base, covering the first few inches of meaty girth with spit and love as you sucked the salt and musk off of him, cleansing Dick with your wandering tongue, and the heat of his groan was enough to melt the ice block.

“And I’m not turning back.” His cock hung over your face when you unfurled your hold around him, kissing the throbbing flesh from the tip to the sticky underside of his length, then to his balls, where you enveloped the heavy sack with sloppy sucks. 

“Mm.” His hips pushed forward and his palm on the back of your head gently applied forward in a silent want to bury his spit-covered sack onto your face. They rolled and dragged across your features with the help of his grasp, and you stuck your tongue out in case it needed a new glow from its endeavor.

Pulling away, you took him in again by inclination. His cock sank into your mouth deeper, and your hand wrapped around the girth that never had the fortunate to have met your tongue. You sucked, bobbing your head up and down while your fist swiveled in pursuit of your lips, coating Dick’s thick cock with the remnants of saliva that your tongue had left.

“Fuck, baby…”

Dick’s hand had left your head now in favor of supporting his habit of crossing his arms behind his head while you worked at his cock. You’d notice it when he felt overwhelmed, stressed, de-stressed, pleasured, or maybe all of the above. Either way, it made your heart jump ten-folds because it made him all the more alluring—pornographic, if you had to be lewd. 

His biceps caught onto the light, flexed when you began playing with his balls while you continued on shoving him down your throat. The light highllghted the muscles that you’d find always yourself latching onto when you crossed the street, when you slept together, when he was frustrated with work, when he’d fuck you into the couch, when you’d ride him on the patio; it was your comfort and seeing the muscles flex under the light, you’d wish you had appreciated it more. 

Him, more.

Several moments later, you pulled away to catch your breath, but before you could do so properly, Dick pulled you up onto your feet and into a kiss, where he whispered his gratification in between soft and doting swipes of his lips. “You suck me off so well, fuck.”

“Yeah? Am I a good boy, then?” One arm twined around his neck, while your other hand dropped to jerk your aching cock, playfully slapping it against his own cock in between sessions before pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips. “Daddy?”

His breath hitched, eyebrows cinched a wrinkle in between, and his face lit up when the words that had come out of your mouth had rendered properly.

You and Dick always liked to try something new every now and then, to add more heat to the flame of your endeavors together, and today was the day you’d let your fantasies come alive. Stemmed straight from one of the novels you’ve been reading during the trip, it was quite ludicrous but your boyfriend didn’t have to know that.

“You’re an extremely good boy, baby…” His forehead leaned onto yours and he stared into the light of your eyes, harboring it for himself as he took your cock into his hand and stroked it to the accelerating pace of his heart. “And since you were such a good boy, how do you think daddy should reward you?”

“Hm…” Your mind ran across many thoughts, but then fell silent upon realization, breaking character when you whispered as if there was an audience watching your performance. “Babe, we don’t have lube—“

“Oh shoot… what about the sunscreen—“

“Dude, did you not read that post about this guy going to the ER and having his dick numb because—“

“Okay, so no sunscreen…”

“Oh!” The lightbulb above your head flickered, and you grinned, pulling him close again as if there wasn’t a brief intermission prior. “Ahem, well… there was something I’ve been wanting to try…”

Dick pressed a laugh into your lips, half-kissing you while a grin remained as you had his curiosity piqued. “What’s that?” His hand maintained the blood flow to your erection, stroking and thumbing the head at times.

Your shoulders rolled back from the tender touch and in midst, took Dick’s cock into your palm and pressed it lower, to where you stepped closer to him, flushed against his chest and Dick held you stable now, and released once it cushioned snug in between your thighs. Your cock pressed up against Dick’s pelvis, and your arms twined back around his nest while his was anchored around your waist. 

“A good boy who’s able to suck cock well, and think on their feet. How did I get so lucky?” He softened another chuckle into your lips, where you inhaled him like oxygen, and fused your affection for each other into one when he began thrusting, slow and short to keep your cock confined against his pelvis. 

“I think you’re just rubbing off on me, if I’m being honest.” Your nose pressed into one another as you held each other impossibly close, buckling into each other’s bodies as Dick sandwiched his thick cock in between your pillowy thighs, your own cock throbbed and dripped with thick pre-cum as it pressed to his body.

“Well, I’m definitely rubbing something.” His hands dropped to your ass, where he began kneaded at the mounds as he stabilized his position into keeping a rhythm to his thrusts. His thick cock rubbed in between your thighs, and he’d groan when you clenched around him, restricting his movements to mere bumps. 

“Shut up—“ You could feel his pre-cum spreading thick along your flesh, and you squeezed once more to pull another delightful sound of him, another drip that layered on your sweaty skin.

In midst, you held his arms tight, admiring his muscles whenever they flexed as he fucked into your tight thighs until he breached through with several desperate plunges, moaning when the cold air met the slit of the sticky head. His body was your rock, your support, as you thrusted your cock over his pelvis. It slid and pressed into his skin as you thrusted, finding a rhythm of Dick’s own hips, and your bodies collectively move together like a dance. Humping each other like animals when you felt close, then slowed at an excruciating pace to a symphony of moans into the night air.

“Fuck me, daddy— fuck.” You begged into Dick’s lips, hissing because you felt your cock become swollen than before, beating red at the tip as if he was the cause of this pleasurable allergic reaction. You humped him desperately, rubbing your cock against him while allowing your thighs to stick to Dick’s large cock like glue. 

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you…” He pressed into you, harder and deeper. It was unfulfilling at first. He wasn’t exactly fucking into anything, but he loved the control he had of your body in this position. Dick clutched into your ass, separating and squeezing the mounds as he maneuvered your body to his liking. “Taking my cock in any way you’d like…”

Back and forth, Dick pulled your body into his and met every plunge of his cock in between your thighs. Occasionally, he’d pull farther for a change of pace, rubbing his cock against you for a brief frot. The stimulation seized drips of pre-cum to layer upon your cock and Dick’s for a slimy friction, mutually gliding over one another. The two cocks mingled, caressed, and slid while you two held each other close until Dick took it upon himself to cushion his cock back in between your thighs and began fucking you again.

Breathless, Dick fucked into your thighs while desperately holding onto your body in fret of letting you, as if he wasn’t the one in control. His nails sunk deep into your ass, but you only took it as his love for you, wearing the indentation like battle scars while you humped into him. Your balls fit the curve of his cock, rolling over the ample shaft with pride, and you rubbed Dick’s chest. Broad, sweaty, and muscular, pinched at his nipples, and then tugged because you needed him close.

Closer than before because you were close. 

“Keep fucking me—“ He slapped your ass once, growling into the open-mouthed kiss, and you jolted into him, fucking your cock against his pelvis at a snappy rhythm. Your thigh clenched from your stance, providing Dick a confinement that was a nightmare to breach through, but when he did, it was incredibly fulfilling and eye-rolling, slipping completely out to repeat the cycle as the addiction for the brief catharsis had only been building.  

Moans deposited into another’s mouth, swallowing and taking each other in with complete rapture, and then withdrew when your chest swelled and stomach pumped with a familiar feeling that had been accumulated through dry-humps and desperate yet intimate endeavors.

“Dick—“ You choked out, clutching onto his shoulders, then his hair, then his arms, because your legs felt weak, wobbly like spaghetti noodles, like all the strength had been lost in your calves when you thrusted for the last time, and relieved yourself in heavy, thick ropes. “F-fuck, fuck!”

A shudder in midst of Dick’s eager and continuing thrusts, you shot cum all over his pelvis, stomach, and even aimed high enough to have stain his chest. Tremors surged, and Dick held you close to keep them confined, but to also selfishly reach his own heaven as he neared his climax within seconds of watching you in awe, emptying yourself all over him.

“Baby, I’m going to come—“ His lips collided into yours for a messy kiss. Tongues chased pink flesh after pink flesh in pursuit of the sweet taste of one another. Swiveled and swirled while Dick violated into you with his big cock, mingled with either sides of your thighs, bruised your ass with his hands, glued his chest to yours with your cum; all of the simultaneous friction built his stomach to bubble in a powerful acclamation. He was as breathless as you were, shaking the haziness in his vision as you fed into the fog with your touch and voice. You stroked his chest, squeezed them, then his biceps, and then his toned stomach, made him feel loved and worshipped as you moaned at the mere sight of his muscles flex and pulsate as his high approached.

“Oh fuck…” Dick delivered several more thrusts into your thighs, you held them close to prevent an opening, before spilling and shooting his thick seed all over your soft yet toned flesh. One load shamelessly came after another, pulling multiple moans out of Dick, and you swallowed them all as you felt yourself layered thick and warm with his cum from beneath, bathing in them as if it was the summer sun. Throughout his climax, your hands maintained its wander, easing the tremors that sent Dick’s body into subtle jolts and goosebumps with cascading warmth and affection, and then kissed him once more, like you always did towards the end.

“You always make such a mess.” Lethargy quickly crept over you, and you practically pushed all of his weight into Dick’s arms as your muscles almost gave out, yawning, but the sticky and thick cum uncomfortably dripping down your legs kept you alert. 

“You seriously cannot be complaining.” He scoffed, stepping back so you would get a view of how drenched his toned body was, kudos to your loads.

“That’s just sunscreen—“

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!