#a lead female film character of all time for me
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Re-watching romance movies I stumbled upon as a child and rooting for the âvillainsâ this time is an eye-opening experience :/
#well the somewhat decent ones that is#most of the times these villains in romance films feel copy-pasted from one character that became a hit#but what i get flabbergasted by is the amount of yandere coded villains i found in this saga#i NEED to know where the storywriters got the inspiration for this from#especially since they don't really do villains like these anymore#now that i notice all these apparently âgoodâ heroes are so boring#and most of the times their relationship with the female leads aren't even well cooked#but what is even better is how i finally understand all the wrong and questionable stuff they implement in these stories in the name of love#yikes#sitting through some of them was literal torture#i absolutely need a ratio who can roast these films with me#anyway at least i got some inspiration :>#harmonysan.txt
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
âLook at the jugs on her,â one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. âThatâs a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; Iâd be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, Iâd never even be tempted to stray.â
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesnât bother you, youâre used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isnât one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. Itâs almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isnât normal.Â
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe itâs exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps youâre just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
Itâs about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
âWhatcha think; gotta admit sheâs a fine thing, ainât she Lieutenant?â he asks, nodding back at the screen. âCome on, even you gotta admit sheâs perfect. Couldnât hope to find anyone better.âÂ
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to.Â
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows heâs finally found you.Â
It looks like youâve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you donât hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you.Â
âGod, youâre so beautiful baby,â you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. âJust standinâ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.â Â
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isnât in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections.Â
âOh, come off it,â you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. âI do not.âÂ
There is no hesitation in his reply. âIâm serious,â he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. âYeah, sure,â you again dismiss him. âWhatever you say.â
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks, concerned. âSomethinâ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.â
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. âI donât know, itâs nothing,â you shrug, but he isnât buying any of it.Â
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. âI think ya do know,â he says. âWill ya tell me?â
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. âItâs just,â you say hesitantly, âI guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know Iâm usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like sheâs the most gorgeous thing in the world. Sheâs so perfect and⌠IâŚâ
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
âIâm not. I know itâs fucking stupid and I shouldnât care about all that, it doesnât really matter, but sometimes itâs just hard to ignore. Iâm not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like Iâm the most irresistible person in the room.â
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer.Â
âWho the fuck said ya ainât perfect?â he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. âGimme that bastardâs name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckinâ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.â
âNo one said anything like that, itâs just the way I feel,â you answer honestly. âAnd youâre only saying that because you like me.âÂ
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. âReally? Ya donât think your body can drive someone wild? Then whatâs this, hmm?â he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. âSee whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think thatâs lyinâ?â
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
âYa donât think I catch the men lookinâ at ya from time to time?â he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. âYa donât think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckinâ likinâ? Just cause they wonât say it out loud doesnât make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.â
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. Heâs not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.  Â
âDonât let what ya heard back there hurt ya,â he says softly. âYeah, ya donât look like that bird on the screen, but that doesnât mean you arenât an absolute beauty. Youâre the most gorgeous thing Iâve ever seen and I ainât just sayinâ it, baby. But ya donât just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.â
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
âIâve already showered,â you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. âDonât care,â he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. âCanât be havinâ those fuckinâ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.â
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesnât let up; he canât, heâs captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out.Â
âWhat if someone comes in?â The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. âAlready locked the door sweetheart.â
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure itâs right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them.Â
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking.Â
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you.Â
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
Itâs minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. âStay with me luv,â he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, âI ainât done just yet.â
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. Heâs on his knees, all 6â4â of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands.Â
âYouâre perfect just the way ya are, baby,â he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. âJust like this: real, curves for fuckinâ days, so much skin I get drunk tryinâ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that itâs all mine.â
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. âMine, all mine.â
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon.Â
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
âYa think I get on my knees for any girl?â he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. âYouâre the only one who can bring me to fuckinâ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. Iâm at itâs goddamn mercy.âÂ
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip.Â
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesnât matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you donât slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isnât until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum.Â
âSecond course,â he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight.Â
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
âThose little boys just donât know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckinâ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that donât know the treasure heâs got. But I know what a fuckinâ feast ya are,â he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower.Â
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. âThey donât know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givinâ and givinâ. But I donât have that problem, sweetheart.â
Simonâs devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
âFuck,â he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind. Â
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
âDonât concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckinâ princess when youâre in his arms,â he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. âCause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckinâ goddess of a woman.â
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. âSay it again,â you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure.Â
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. âYou are so fuckinâ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckinâ inch of ya. My princess.â
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesnât matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. âYes, yes,â you whimper out.Â
âCome for me again,â he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. âCome on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.â
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. Itâs close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
âLet go for me,â he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all.Â
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
Itâs quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; youâve been in here for too long, but Simon doesnât seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again.Â
âTheyâll just have to fuckinâ wait,â he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. âThey can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, Iâm still busy and youâre not goinâ anywhere.â
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost smut#simin ghost riley#simon ghost x you#ghost#cod ghost#cod mwf2#cod
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The Red Dress
Label Mature 18+
Summary You are acting as Austinâs romantic female lead in his latest film, however thereâs just one problemâŚ-he isnât acting and he wants to make the relationship a reality.
â¤ď¸âđĽPassionate Smutâ¤ď¸âđĽ Shy Austin ⢠teasing â˘flirting ⢠unwanted advances â˘romance denial ⢠Austin simping + slight stalking ⢠sleeping with a costar ⢠BJ⢠cum eating â˘dirty talk ⢠nipple play ⢠fingering ⢠orgasms ⢠protection
đ Master List
đ Proodreader @purejasmine
The Red Dress
For weeks, you and Austin had shared long days and late nights on set, working through scenes and running lines. You were the love interest in his latest film, and from the first day, it was clear he had a crush on you.Â
It was in the way he lingered when he spoke to you, his eyes lighting up whenever you entered a room, the subtle touches on your arm as he spoke to you that felt like his way of claiming just a little more each time.Â
But he wasnât your type. Austin was used to bubbly, adoring girls who hung on his every word. You were professional, confident, and had little patience for playing into his charms.
Every advance he made, you played off with a practiced ease, the kind that kept him guessingâand somehow that made him want you even more.
Tonight is no different as you stand before the bulb-lit mirror, carefully slipping into the red dress for the next scene. You and Austin are set to film your first kiss, and youâre well aware of just how eager he is to perform, even if itâs only in character.
So when you hear a faint knock on your trailer door, you already know exactly who it is.
Smiling slightly, you call out, âCome in,â and sure enough, Austin steps inside, his eyes fixated on his script until he glances up, his gaze landing on you just as you are pulling the red dress over your hips.
You are curvaceous in all the right places and the fullness of your chest subtly bounces in your bra as you adjust the straps.
For a moment, Austin is stunned, his eyes widening as he takes in the way the fabric hugs your every curves, framing your body in a way that leaves little to the imagination.
His gaze lingers, more than what is modest, trailing over you with an intensity that makes the room feel suddenly warmer.Â
You can see the struggle in his expression as he forces himself to look back down, pretending to be fascinated by his script once again.
âIs there something you needed, Austin?â you ask your voice light, with a subtle hint of amusement.
He clears his throat, gripping the edges of his script. âUh, yeahâŚI just wanted to, um, run the scene with you before weâperform.â His voice is slightly breathless, betraying just how affected he is by the sight of you.
You give him a slight, teasing smile, peeking over your shoulder, as you reach behind your back. âWell then, before we start⌠could you zip me up?,â you ask, holding his gaze, watching the way his expression shifts from surprise to the arousal he can barely contain.
He steps forward placing his script on the vanity table, his hand moving to your zipper. His fingers brush over your skin, warm and slightly shaky, then you feel him pull the zipper all the way up, his hand lingering before he lets go.
His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and for a moment, it looks as if heâs about to say somethingâsomething unguarded, something real. But he holds back, his lips parting just slightly before he catches himself.
You turn to face him, leaning casually against the vanity, taking in the sight of him.Â
Dressed for the scene, he looks extremely handsome. His cheeks are tinged pink, his eyes eager yet uncertain and thereâs hint of a desperation there that heâs trying to hide, but it only makes him more endearing.Â
Without a word, you reach over and take his script from the vanity, slipping easily into character, your gaze lingering on him as you step closer, letting your fingers trail along the edge of his sleeve.
âI just⌠I canât stop thinking about what couldâve happened,â you say in character your voice filled with longing âIf you werenât thereâŚâ you say trailing your hand on his arm.
Austinâs eyes widen, caught up in the moment, but then he blinks, his mouth opening and closing. Heâs forgotten his lineâa rarity that makes you giggle, breaking character with a sparkle of amusement.
âWhatâs so funny?â he asks, his expression softening with a flicker of self-doubt, a small falter in his pride that you find unexpectedly charming.
With a smile you lean in, placing your hand on his chest as you read from the script. âItâs ââlâll always be there for youââ
The line brings an intensity to his eyes as his expression shifts. He straightens, his jaw set as he steps forward, closing the distance between you in a way thatâs far more direct than you anticipated.Â
âIâll always be there for you,â he says softly and his hand slides to your waist, pulling you in.Â
He kisses you deeply, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, lingering in a shared space as he finally pulls back, just inches from your lips.
âHow was that?â he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours, his face so close you can feel his breaths.
Your lips are still parted, your hand resting lightly against his chest, caught somewhere between surprise and a flustered blush.
As he leans in to kiss you again, you press your hand firmly against him with just enough pressure to make him look down, keeping him at bay. Â
âSave it for the scene,â you whisper, and quickly step past him, feeling his gaze trailing after you as you make your way to set.
Thereâs a quiet energy as you arrive to film the scene, the usual routine already in motion. The director stands near the monitor, giving instructions to the crew as the camera sits ready on its track.
Austin takes a deep breath and stands on his marker as dozens of people move around him. He clears his throat as he glances at the bright lights overhead, the camera crew adjusting their angles, as the sound guy holds a boom mic steady over your heads.
Make up artists dart between you both, brushing up his hair and touching up your lipstick with quick, practiced strokes.Â
Itâs all the routine organized chaos of a film.
The space grows quiet as final checks are made. âQuiet on set!â someone calls, and the director nods, signaling the start.Â
The slate claps and when the director finally yells, âAction!â everything falls silent.
You and Austin both deliver your lines with a practiced ease, the moment building, tension mounting until itâs time for the kiss.Â
âI just canât stop thinking about what couldâve happened,â you say, your voice filled with desperation as your fingers trail lightly along his wrist. âIf you werenât there for meâŚâ you say with unmistakable conviction.
The air grows heavy, and the crew seems to hold their collective breath, waiting as everyone looks to Austin, the pause stretching, the anticipation undeniable.Â
For a moment, you almost think he wonât say it, the weight of the scene bearing down on him.Â
 Then, his voice breaks through, soft and unsteady, but filled with something real. âIâll always be there for you.â He says, his delivery is so quiet, so tender, that youâre not even sure of the mic catches it.Â
But his focus is entirely on you, his gaze locked on yours as the words linger in the space between you.Â
Then his lips find yours with a kiss thatâs entirely more than what was rehearsed. Heâs passionate and intense, his lips brushing against yours as if youâre the only thing that matters to him.
Your resolve slips as the moment consumes you, his kiss is breathtaking, overwhelming in a way that you werenât expecting.
Your hands move instinctively, finding his face, your fingertips brushing along the sharp line of his jaw as he pulls you flush against him.
Austin is hardâthe thought stuns you, his cock pressing against you unrestrained as he pours everything into his kiss as though words would never be enough.Â
The sound of the set fades away, the weight of his presence anchoring you in a moment that feels far too real.
âCut!â the director yells, but Austin doesnât stop, his lips linger, his hands holding you as though he canât pull away. It isnât until you gently press against his chest that he finally lets go, his breaths ragged as whispers from the crew spread through the set.
But Austin doesnât seem to care. His gaze stays on you, his lips slightly parted, looking as though heâs ready to dive back in.Â
The director reviews the footage, studying the monitor with a critical eye as you both wait, tension still hanging between you.
Then the director leans back and smiles. âWe got it,âand the crew erupts into applause.
The kiss scene is the final shot of the day, and after the applause fades, youâre quickly ushered away from Austin back to your trailer to remove your dress.Â
Once back in your own clothing you are guided to your car by a staff member and driven back to the hotel where the rest of the cast is staying.Â
The drive is quiet, but your thoughts are entirely on the intensity of the scene still replaying in your mind
The realization creeps in, unhidden and undeniableâAustin was hard. The thought replays again and again, and your pulse quickens as you shift in your seat, your gaze flicking toward the dark window, trying to push it aside.
But you canât. Itâs not just the physicality of itâitâs what it meant, the way he seemed completely lost in the moment, as if the line between acting and reality had vanished entirely. You realize that for Austin, it wasnât just a scene he wants the real thing.
You arrive back to the hotel at the same time as the rest of the cast, their lively chatter filling the lobby. But the moment your eyes meet Austinâs, everything else fades. His gaze locks on you and his need is clearly written across his face.
Without a word, you turn and head toward the elevator. You can feel his eyes following your every move, the tension between you hanging in the air, as though the decision has already been made.
He doesnât follow you in, and for a moment, you think he will let the tension simmer between you. But as you walk in silence down the hallway toward your room, you hear the elevator chime behind you.
Glancing over your shoulder, you see itâs Austin, though somehow, you already knew. The unspoken tension between you building until neither of you can ignore it.
As much as you try to resist, to keep your composure, the heat in his eyes makes it impossible to deny the way your body responds, the way your resolve begins to waver.
When you reach your door, you pull out your keycard, wondering if he will head to his own room.
But he doesnât.
Instead, he hesitates, standing just behind you.
You glance at him over your shoulder, noticing the way his jaw tightens as if heâs trying to summon the courage to speak.Â
For a moment, you think he might say something, but when the words donât come, you grin, beeping your key card and entering your room as the door begins to close behind you.
Before it can, his hand shoots out, stopping the door in its tracks and he follows you inside. Before you can say a word, he pins you against the entry wall, the soft click of the door closing echoing through the room.
Heâs panting now, his chest heaving as he presses against you, his hands firm on your wrists.Â
His grip tightens slightly, his gaze flickering as if heâs searching for the right thing to say. âIâŚdonât â he starts, his voice rough, barely above a whisper as he regains control . âI donât know why we do this to each otherâ he breathes his voice low and rough, the words carrying all the restraint heâs clearly been holding back.
âDo what?â you tease, leaning your head slightly, your eyes locked onto his, unwavering and steady as you silently dare him to make a move.
His breath stutters, but then his resolve seems to harden as he looks at you.Â
âThis,â he says, closing the distance in an instant his lips crashing against yours in a kiss thatâs filled with his frustration and need.
The intensity of his kiss pulls you in, igniting something youâve tried to ignore. Slowly, your lips begin to move with his, matching his urgency, the heat between you building with every second.Â
His hands release your wrists, sliding down to your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you close and heâs hard all over again.
His touch is firm, roaming over every curve of your body like heâs trying to memorize every detail, as if this might be his only chance to have you like this.
He pulls back from the kiss, his breath ragged as his eyes drop, taking in the sight of you. His hands move up, cupping your full chest, his thumbs brushing your nipples through the fabric. â fuck â he pants his brows knitting.Â
âYou want me, that much Austin?â you tease, your hands sliding down the length of his hard cock and the way he his hips jerk from surprise, makes you laugh softly, a knowing sound that only fuels his eagerness.
âYes,âhe breathes, his voice tight with barely restrained need and your eyes trail downward, catching sight of his impressive size straining hard and ready against his pants.
âItâs so big Austin,â you praise your tone filled with amusement as your fingertips brush along the shaft, making him harder.
âIâm sure you must get your way all the time,â you grin, teasing him as your fingers trail lower, pressing your palm against him, feeling the weight of his cock in your hand.
âBut not this time,â you say intrigued, your tone turning darker as his breath stutters, his body tensing beneath your touch. His hips shift slightly seeking more as if he canât stop himself, then his eyes look up to yours when you donât give him what he wantsâand it only fuels your resolve.
âI want to make you beg for it,â you decide, your tone firm as your finger tip traces a slow delicate circle on his cock head.
His adamâs apple bobs as he swallows, and the wide desperate look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.Â
âOkayâ he readily nods and at this point you know he would agree to just about anything.
You take your time, bringing your hands up and unbuttoning his shirt with excruciating slowness, each button revealing another inch of his perfectly toned body.Â
Your fingertips graze his skin as the fabric parts, sending shivers down his spine, as the shirt falls to the floor, leaving him exposed, eagerly awaiting your next move.
Heâs already a mess, practically shaking, his eyes glued to you with a desperate kind of worship. âPlease,â he whispers, his voice barely a rasp, and you grin, savoring his need.
âBegging already, Austin?â you tease, your tone laced with heat. âI havenât even started with you yet.âyou reveal as you undress slowly, letting the fabric of your dress slip away to reveal your silhouette.Â
Your curves flow effortlessly, your full, breasts mesmerizing him as he admires every inch of you of your body as if heâs witnessing something rare, something heâs always wanted but thought he could never have.
âYouâre going to ruin me,â he says under his breath, his voice low and uneven as he takes in the sight of you.Â
Your lips quirk into a smile as you answer,â I knowâ laced with desire.
His hands slide around your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands roam every curve of your body as if heâs trying to memorize each detail, to have every inch of you imprinted in his mind, squeezing your breasts with an intensity that draws a soft gasp from your lips, and you pull back slightly, meeting his gaze.
The wild anticipation in his eyes is unmistakable, but you slyly smile not ready to give him exactly what he wants yet.
âHow badly do you want me, Austin?â you ask, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers slip through his hair, tugging  him down gently to your breasts. The movement draws a shudder from him as his lips brush over them in reverence.
âMore than anything,â he whispers against your skin, his voice trembling, with desperation and need as he begins to suck your nipple into his mouth.
You smile softly, your fingers gently pulling his hair back to make him look you in the his eyes. âThen let me give you everything,â you say, your voice heavy with promise.
His body tenses, every muscle in his abs drawn tight as you slowly lower yourself before him. He presses his palms against the wall for balance barely able to contain himself as he watches you settle on your knees.Â
Slowly, your fingers move to his zipper, drawing it down with a deliberate slowness that heightens his anticipation. When you pull him out every inch of his thick cock is throbbing with an undeniable need.Â
You look up at him and smile as you finally to take his cock into your mouth and his lips part as a symphony of raw, unrestrained sounds spill from him.Â
With his his eyes locked you, his body trembles, his hips barely able to hold still as you suck him with a skilled, taunting rhythm, dragging him to the edge and pulling back, drawing out his pleasure until heâs whimpering, panting, his voice barely more than a plea as he tries to beg.
His moans are desperate, but you keep sucking him until heâs trembling, twitching, writhing, pleading, âPlease let me fuck you,â he begs breathlessly, his voice breaking with need, and you finally relent.
You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, the heat between you undeniable. Before you can say anything, his voice breaks through, raw and unsteady.
âDonât move.â He says as he kneels and retrieves a condom from his pocket. You grin seeing heâs prepared, revealing his true intentions all along. You watch as he rolls  the condom on his heavy cock with steady hands.Â
Without hesitation, he pulls you toward him, his need undeniable as he leads you to the center of the room and pushes you down onto the softness of the bed.
You laugh at how eager he is as you prop yourself up on your elbows and as you meet his gaze the heat in his eyes is unmistakable.
âCome Austin,â you tease, your voice inviting as you pat the bed.Â
He doesnât hesitate as he climbs on top of you, his weight dipping the mattress as his hands find your hips, pinning you beneath him, his gaze locking on yours for just a moment before he lowers himself.
His mouth finds your breasts with an almost desperate hunger, his lips brushing against your skin before his wet tongue flicks over the sensitive peaks, sending jolts of pleasure through you as your fingers thread through his hair keeping him close. âYouâre doing so good, Austin. Just like that.â You encourage him.
Your words spur him on as he squeezes them in his hands, his warm breath ghosting over your skin in between each kiss and lick, his attention entirely focused on you. As he sucks your nipple into his mouth, the heat and pressure draw a soft gasp from your lips, the sensation shooting straight through you.
The intensity of his focus, as he lavishes you without hesitation leaves you aching and breathless, his mouth moves hungrily over each breast, his tongue flicking and swirling over your sensitive peaks, as your nails lightly graze his shoulders.
He pauses just long enough to let his breath skim your nipple before he takes it into his mouth again, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine.
The wet, obscene sound of his lips and tongue against your skin only heightens your need, each suck drawing soft gasps and moans from you. âYouâre making me feel so good, Austin,â you say, your voice trembling slightly.
He groans against your skin, his mouth never leaving your breast as his hand moves lower, slipping between your thighs finding your clit, already swollen and slick from arousal.Â
He firmly presses it before his fingers slide into you effortlessly the obscene squelch of his quick thrusts makes your cheeks flush as your body arches into him.Â
âYouâre so wet for me,â he says against your breast, his voice rough and heavy with desire, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.Â
âI want more⌠Austin donât stopâ you whisper, your tone breathy and encouraging.
Without hesitation, he pulls your tender nipple back into his mouth, his tongue swirling and flicking as he sucks harder.
His fingers curl inside you with precision, as your moans spill out uncontrollably, blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his mouth and relentless pace of his fingers inside you.
Your thighs shudder as your body coils tight, every muscle trembling under the relentless build-upâthe slick noise of his fingers plunging into you, the wet pull of his lips on your nipples and the unbearable tension in your core finally snaps.
Your orgasm rips through you, as your hands clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to as the waves of pleasure crash over you.
As he finally releases you his touch softens, his fingers easing out of you while his mouth lingers for a moment longer, pressing gentle kisses against your heated skin.Â
He positions himself to enter you, his tip pushing in as he murmurs things that are almost incoherent, broken phrases laced with desire and disbelief as he glides his cock into you and begins to thrust.
âYou feel so⌠you feel too good,â he gasps as his hands roam over your body like he canât decide where to touch first, wanting to claim every inch of you.
âDonât hold back,â you pant softly, your voice trembling with need. âI want all of you, Austin.â
Your gentle praises seem to unravel him as his hips begin moving in a desperate rhythm, each thrust more intense than the last, his body tight with the effort.
âThatâs perfect,â you whisper, your fingers tracing over his shoulders, your voice laced with sweetness. âJust like that Austin ⌠donât stop.â
He groans, his voice rough and almost incoherent as he loses himself completely. âYouâoh, fuckâhow do you feel this good? I canât⌠I canât stop.âÂ
His words tumble out, disconnected and wild, as his body grinds against yours, his grip tightening like heâs afraid to let go.Â
âYouâre driving me crazyââ he groans, his voice raw and trembling with need.
You grab his jaw firmly, forcing him to meet your gaze, your eyes blazing with equal intensity. âThen lose your mind for me,â you pant, your voice light and commanding. âShow me how badly you want me.â
His hands grip your shoulders, anchoring himself as the tension within him surges to a breaking point. He thrusts into you with force as your tits jiggle, the rhythm of his movements so consuming it feels like the air is being knocked out of you.
Your wrap your legs around his hips in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, but itâs futile. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge as his hands tighten their grip, his ragged breaths hot against your skin as your name spills from his lips.Â
âCome for me,â he begs, his voice low and rough reverberating through you like a command your body canât ignore. The tension peaks all at once, your orgasm crashing over you in waves so powerful it leaves you crying out, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body spasms beneath him.
He doesnât slow, riding out every tremor, his hands sliding down to your waist, holding you steady as he pulls you to him again and again, prolonging the moment until youâre left utterly spent, gasping for air,trembling in his grasp.
His entire frame tightens, every muscle unyielding as a low, guttural sound escapes him, raw and unrestrained, and he surrenders to the overwhelming release.
A look of relief and ecstasy washes over his face as he comes, his expression almost vulnerable as he rides out the final waves of pleasure.
His breaths are still shuddering as he slowly pulls out and collapses beside you, his chest heaving as he stares at the ceiling.Â
He looks stunned, as if he still canât believe what just happened. His lips part slightly, but no words come out, his expression a mix of disbelief and something softerâalmost awe
Finally he turns his head toward you, his breath still uneven, his voice heavy with exhaustion. âDo you want to go with me to dinner?â he asks, his question startling in its simplicity after what just happened.
You canât help but laugh as you sit up understanding he wants to date you and brush his hair back with a teasing smirk.
âDinner?â you ask, sitting up and leaving him sprawled out in bed. âYou havenât even begun to figure me out yet.â you grin.
He watches you saunter toward the bathroom, his eyes trailing your every move. You pause at the doorway, glancing back over your shoulder. âCome along, Austin,â you say, your voice soft and inviting, âLetâs see if you can handle me again.â
His hesitation lasts only a second before he scrambles off the bed, his movements hurried and desperate as he follows you without a second thought.
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It's wild that the whole global trend of gay-focused happy ending romance shows and movies has only been going on for *looks at calendar* a measly ten years!
Just ten years ago. 2014. That's when you get the discovery of a market for queer romance series and films with happy endings. That year the OG Love Sick in Thailand came out. Brazil puts out The Way He Looks, which deserves so much more credit than it receives for influencing the aeshtetics of the genre. Looking premieres on HBO, and although it had low ratings, it's an important touchstone. And, despite Nickelodeonâs censorship and shifting the program from tv to its website, the Legend of Korra confirms Korrasami in its season finale.
The next year, in 2015, we get Love Sick season 2, and China, pre-censorship laws has a few options: Happy Together (not the Wong Kar Wai one lol), Mr. X and I, and Falling In Love with a Rival. Canada, premieres Schitt's Creek. In the US, Steven Universe reveals Garnet as a romantic fusion between two female characters, and will proceed to just be so sapphic. Norwegian web series Skam premieres and sets up a gay protagonist for its third season, which will drop in 2016 and entirely change the global media landscape.
Then, 2016! This is the MOMENT. That aforementioned Skam season happens. Japan puts out the film version of Ossan's Love and anime series Yuri!!! on Ice. China has the impactful Addicted Heroine, which directly leads to increased censorship. The US has Moonlight come out and take home the Oscar. In Thailand, GMMTV enters the BL game and Thai BL explodes: Puppy Honey, SOTUS, Water Boyy, Make It Right, plus, the Thai Gay OK Bangkok, which, like its influence, Looking, is more in the queer tradition but introduces two dramatically important directors to the Thai BL industry, Aof and Jojo.
By 2017, Taiwan enters the game with its History series. Koreaâs BL industry actually kicks off with Method and Long Time No See. Thailandâs got too many BLs to mention. Call Me By Your Name, though not a happy ending, makes a big splash that will send ripples through the whole genre, and God's Own Country offers a gruff counter-argument to problematic age differences and twink obsessions. This is also the year of Netflix reboot of One Day At a Time bringing some wlw to the screen, and the Disney Channel has a main character come out as âgayâ on Andi Mack ( Iâm am ready to throw fists with anyone who thinks the Disney Channel aesthetic isnât a part of current queer culture). And I'd be remiss not to mention the influential cult-following of chaotic web-series The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo: "Sometimes things that are expensive...are worse."
All this happened, and we hadnât even gotten to Love, Simon, Elite, or ITSAY, yet.
Prior to all this there are some major precursors some of which signaled and primed a receptive market, others influenced the people who'd go on to create the QLs. Japan has a sputtering start in the 2010s with a few BL films (Takumi-Kun, Boys Love, and Jujoun Pure Heart). Most significantly in the American context, you have Glee, and its ending really makes way for the new era that can center gay young people in a world where queerness, due to easy access to digital information, is less novel to the characters. And the QL book and graphic novel landscape was way ahead of the television and film industries, directly creating many of the stories that the latter industries used.
There's plenty of the traditional queer media content (tragic melodramas and independent camp comedies) going on prior to and alongside QL, and there are some outlying queer romance films with happy endings that precede the era but feel very much akin to QL genre tropes and goals, many with a focus on postcolonial and multicultural perspectives (Saving Face, The Wedding Banquet, Big Eden, Maurice, My Beautiful Launderette, and Weekend). I don't mean to suggest that everything Iâve listed ought to be categorized as QL.
Rather, I want to point out how all of these new-era queer romance works are in a big queer global conversation together, in the creation of a new contemporary genre, a genre that has more capacity and thematic interest to include digital technology and normalize cross-cultural relationships than other genres (there's a reason fansubs and web platforms are so easily accepted and integrated to the proliferation genre).
You're not too late to be part of the conversation. Imagine being alive in the 1960s and 70s and participating in the blossoming of the sci-fi genre. That flowering is where gay romance sits now. Join the party.
#just constantly gob-smacked to be alive right now#i know there's plenty of reason to be horrifically distressed about the condition of the world#queer history#thai bl#japanese bl#korean bl#chinese bl#skam
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Please, talk to me more about Barbie being aroace.
not once, not a single time in 113 minutes of runtime, did Margot Robbie's Barbie show romantic or sexual interest in Kenâor anyone else, for that matter!
first of all, it's kind of amazing that there was no romantic storyline whatsoever for a female lead (especially one who's so often culturally thought of in a pairâBarbie and Ken) in one of the biggest movies of the year.
it also stands out because we see some of the other Barbies paired up with Kens, seemingly romantically, which implies that Barbies CAN be allo, but this particular Barbie isn't! she explicitly says that she's not interested in Ken that way!!
and obviously they never say the words "aromantic" or "asexual" in the film bc it's hollywood and most people don't really understand what that means anyway. but at least in my mind, a story doesn't have to have explicit representation in order for me to feel seen and validated by it. if nothing else, Barbie is an incredibly aroace-friendly story, not only because of its lack of romance, but because the main character doesn't want a relationship and is never questioned about this (other than by Ken, which the narrative resoundingly condemns), or told that she's supposed to or she should at least give it a try, or any number of the things that aro and ace people hear all the time.
anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk, and go watch Barbie (2023)
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Ęá´ęą á´É˘á´Ęá´ęąęą || Part One
đˇđđ đđđđđ đđđ˘đđđđ˘ đđđđ đ˘đđ? đˇđđ đđđđđ đđđ˘đđđđ˘ đđđđ đ˘đđ đđđ đđđđ đ˘đđ? đˇđđ đđđđđ đđđ˘đđđđ˘ đđđđ đ˘đđ đđđ đđđđ đ˘đđ đđđ đđđ đđđđ đđđđđ đđđđđ đđđ?
â§đđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ : Pre-War!Cooper Howard x fem!Reader
â§đđđđ˘đ§g: E / MATURE! Minors, DO NOT interact!
â§á´á´É´á´á´É´á´: Smut with plot, virgin!reader, cheating, lowkey alcoholic reader, oral (female receiving), fingering, penetration
â§đđđ§đ đđĄ: ~6k
â§đđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛: From costars to strangers, itâs like fate keeps bringing the two of you together.
â§É´á´á´á´:  Lots of switching from present to past tense as events happen. Also, added new parts from what the teaser had. Realized I wanted to make this a story with more than one part. If I kept just one part... it would be far too long.
You have been in the acting game for far too long. Originally you were advertising royalty. Your mom first put you into commercial gigs at the young age of five. Luckily for your mom, BlamCo Mac & Cheese was looking for the new poster child. Your face was plastered on billboards all around Hollywood. âNothing says dinner like BlamCo Mac & Cheese. Bring the family together for a dish everyone will enjoy.â This phrase will forever be etched into the grooves of your brain. But as all gigs go, you outgrew BlamCo. Once you hit age ten, you couldnât be the cutesy little kid telling families to eat the most disgusting mac and cheese known to man. Like many gigs will do, you were dropped from the gig. It paid well. Well, it paid your mom well.Â
She would go on lavish vacations without you. Only leaving you with a babysitter. This babysitter ended up raising you. Your mom would also buy herself expensive dresses and handbags. What would you get? Hand Me downs of whatever wardrobe on commercials could give you. This was a common theme early on in your career. The money you made was promised to you once you hit eighteen. Enough money to go to college and make a name for yourself professionally. After the BlamCo gig, you hit a dry spell. No one wanted a kid going through puberty as the face of their brand. With money getting tight, your mom signed you up for every and any background character role in a film and TV show she could. Thatâs where Nuka Cola noticed you.
Upon hitting sixteen, Nuka Cola representatives came up to your mom offering you a four year contract to be the face of Nuka Cola. It paid insanely well. So you did it. Another gig with your face plastered everywhere. From highway billboards to full body cut outs of you in Red Rockets across the country, you were back in the limelight. But those four years went by quickly. Once the contract ended, you were eighteen. You were excited to throw your acting career away. Child stardom was too damn much. College was going to be a fresh start for you! To no oneâs surprise, you never got your money. To make it worse, your mom kicked you out of the house. She didnât see you as profitable anymore. Mainly because you are old enough to go your own way.Â
Due to all these gigs, you never had time to make friends. So you took to crashing on random old co-starâs couches. You were back to background gigs. Which paid okay but not enough to help pay for college. Sadly, that was a dream you could never catch. It took three years for you to finally get your foot back in the door with big acting gigs. That gig being A Man and His Dog. A film in which you play the main female character who is supposed to seduce the main lead. It wasnât really a film expected to go anywhere. The lead was a man straight out of the Sino-American War who had never acted a day in his life. This was also your first big gig, youâre not one to talk. Unknown to you, that man would become western movie royalty. A young and disgruntled Cooper Howard.Â
First day on set was odd. No one really talked to you. Not even the director. There was no way you were to know if you were doing the role justice. They had you in a wedding dress with white face paint. It was embarrassing. You stand near your trailer, lighting up a cigarette during lunch. Rent was due that night and you had no money to pay it. If this gig didnât make a lot of money, youâre screwed. With a shaky breath, you look down at the ground. Youâre getting cigarette ash all over this dress. Wardrobe is going to kill you.Â
âNow whatâs a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?â
The southern voice takes you out of your thoughts as you look up. You rub your eyes, messing up the makeup you have on. Now your hand is stained white. Great. Cooper walks over to you before leaning against your trailer. He takes out a cigarette of his own and begins to smoke with you. This is the first person to speak with you and it's the lead of the film. You try to act natural but youâre smitten. There is some charm he holds. Maybe itâs the fact youâre playing weird lovers in the film or the fact you have never been in contact with such a gorgeous man before. This moment right now makes you realize youâve never had your first kiss. Your life has been acting gig after acting gig. No time for personal relationships.
âAre ya just gonâ stare at me?â He chuckles, voice smooth like whiskey.Â
You clear your throat and shake your head.
âSorry, Iâm not used to small talk.â Is all you can truly muster.
He offers you a kind smile. One that feels like sickly sweet honey on a hot day. It makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. He already has you wrapped around his finger. Maybe itâs the southern drawl that burns like a good bourbon. He is one hell of a charmer.Â
âAinât small talk unless you want it to be.â He takes a long drag from his cigarette, licking his bottom lip.
âYouâre killing it by the way. The director is- pardon my language- a dick.â Cooper scoffs, shaking his head. He flicks his cigarette onto the ground and stomps on it which causes you to do it to your own.
You canât help but chuckle at that.Â
âYou can say that again.â You turn to face him, leaning against your own trailer.
Maybe this set wouldnât be as bad as you thought.Â
During set, you would crash at Cooperâs apartment. A tiny place near filming. You ended up getting evicted because you couldnât afford rent. It was only logical you still find somewhere to crash. Youâre lucky you became close with Cooper. Heâs a gentleman. Made you feel at home. You opened up about your childhood and he opened up about war. War. It was a scary thing. His stories kept you on the edge of your seat. Here you were, thinking you had a tough past. Almost all of Cooperâs friends are dead because of the war. You could only comfort him.Â
Itâs not like he didnât have a support system. He had a beautiful fiancĂŠ who would stop by sometimes. You couldnât help but feel a bit of jealousy when she came by. Of course you and Cooper were just friends but no one had shown you kindness the way he had. Maybe you fell for him out of convenience⌠or the feelings were real; Yet, the way he held her and the way she made him laugh was something youâll never have with him.Â
There were late nights at Cooperâs apartment where he would be on the phone with his fiancĂŠ nonstop. But then there were nights just for you. All his attention on you after wrapping. The two of you would share a few drinks and shoot the shit about set. Make fun of the director or one of your costars. There was one night in particular where the both of you got overly excited about drinking.
It was a tough day after set and the two of you were sitting on his couch drinking the stress away. This was after filming an explicit scene with him. The way he was on top of you was burned into your brain. While there was no real sex that had happened, the performance was perfect. Hungry kisses were pressed to your neck and you fake biting his collarbone causing him to hiss in painâŚÂ
While sitting next to him, three rum and Nukas in, you were getting handsy. So was he. He laid a hand on your knee and you have a hand on his chest.
âNever acted out a sex scene beforeâŚâ You slur, biting your lip.
âIt was kind of obvious, darlinââ Cooper takes another sip, causing you to swat at his chest.
âCoop! Câmon. It wasnât that bad was it?â You whine and lean back against the couch.
âWell⌠I mean, think of it as if it was real. That should help your performance.â
You look up at Cooper and your cheeks turn red. It took a moment for him to realize what you were getting at. When he did, his own cheeks heated up.Â
âYouâre not sayin-â
âI am.â You say and he pulls his hand off of your knee. âNever kissed anyone either.â
Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was pent up lust from the set, but he leans in. Against your better judgment, you lean in too. You could taste the rum against his soft lips. Wrapping your arms around him, you donât question this one bit. Running his tongue over your bottom lip, you invite him inside your mouth. You run your tongue over his, feeling the rough bumps. He bites your tongue softly, sucking on it. It was enough to make you moan. You curl your fingers in his hair, tugging at it. Cooper pushes himself against you where you could feel just how hard you were making him. He bites down on your tongue once more before you realize what is going on. That this wasnât acting. That you were actually making out with Cooper Howard. The taken actor. One whoâs fiancĂŠ, Barb, considered you family.
You pull away and only a trail of spit was what was connecting you. You were going to apologize but he got up, leaving the room. No words were shared for the rest of the night. You feel guilty. But you were too damn drunk for this. So was he.
After filming wrapped, you were thrust into the world of press. The both of you seemed to forget about the kiss. The one you shared with him while drunk. Thank god for that. The press tour with Cooper was something else. The director wanted you two to lean into a facade. He wanted the both of you to act like lovers. This was to sell the film, lean into that romance your two characters had. You couldnât flirt for shit without a script. Cooper, however, was a complete natural.
You followed Cooperâs lead. You know it was all an act but you were falling for him. Hard. He was the first man to ever give you the time of day. You knew it was fake flirting but every blush that he caused was real. The film ended up being big enough to push both Cooper and you into the spotlight. Now youâre landing gigs like crazy as well as him.
One night you called his hotel room, drunk. You had gone to his bar after a press interview with your other cast mates. Cooper stayed in. At a payphone, you rang him. It was right after a man tried to hit on you and take you to his place. It was less romantic and more forceful. He was a balding older man who seemed to hug his cup of on tap beer. Ultimately, you punched the man in the face. He tried to grope you. You had the right to fight back. Maybe you had a tough relationship with alcohol. Youâll address that later in life. But while at that payphone, you whined and cried to Cooper. This night you barely remember other than the fact that he came and got you. He went out of his way to help you.Â
You both play lovers again in another western B-film. This one didnât have the same success as the prior film but it was still another film you did with Cooper. You loved working with him. It was always such a delight. But mid-this film, he got married. That ruined the tabloid rumors of the both of you together that were thrusting you into stardom with him. Hollywood loved rumors. You werenât even invited to the damn wedding. That had put a rift between the both of you. He never told you why you werenât invited. He was supposed to be your closest friend. After getting married, things changed. He didnât act as friendly towards you. Actually, he ignored you. Barb started showing up to set more and more. You did not know at the time it would be the last time youâd be acting with him.
After that film, you two were no longer casted together. He did a lot more solo cowboy films while you still got put into that innocent lover girl stereotype. But Hollywood really started to make you jaded. Any man who approached you only wanted sex. No one liked you for you. Your personal life was shit. You had no one. But Cooper? He seemed to have it all. A wife, a kid on the way, and a successful career.You only had a career. You yearned for love.Â
About three years later, you worked on a western film; one with no relation to Cooper. You were the star. Maybe people started to realize that you werenât as innocent as films made you seem. You played a jaded mayor who took matters into her own hands when the town, mainly men, started to turn on your character. The director and writer were women which made the set far more comfortable than anything you have ever experienced.Â
Once that film wrapped, you were invited to an after party at the directorâs home. Not just for your film but the other films that were filming in the lot. It was about time you had fun. For years you were on your own. No parties, just work. When you got there, the place was packed. It felt odd being dressed in a skin tight black dress, you were getting glares from older men and women. You shared hugs with a few cast and crew members before heading for the open bar. You get a vodka cranberry and find a secluded place away from most people. When you thought you were alone, you heard a familiar voice arguing.
âDid you have to invite all your coworkers?âÂ
Cooper. His voice is as sweet as the first day you met him. Youâd recognize it anywhere.
âIf we want to settle that commercial deal, you might as well get friendly with them.âÂ
His wife.
You scoff, rolling your eyes. Maybe she was nice. But it was almost like she knew you liked her husband. The awkward tension soured any companionship that could have happened. But that was for the best when you think about it in hindsight. You were under the influence at the moment, not exactly in the best state to talk to your ex-costar. Besides, his wife was a higher up at Vault-Tec, something a lot of actors and actresses seem to hate. There was a lot of drama going on with that. You better ignore those two like the plague, for your own sanity.
Looking from your hidden spot, you see his wife had walked away from him. She probably went to grab a drink. It made sense. He stood with a cigarette in between his fingers, still as pretty as the last time you saw him. Cooperâs eyes catch yours and you duck back to your secluded spot. You curse to yourself as you hear his footsteps come towards you.
âAinât no way thatâs Y/N.â His southern accent is strong, causing you to swoon.
You step out of your hiding spot and sigh, offering him a friendly smile. He hugs you, acting like nothing happened. Like it hadnât been years since you last saw him. He had a charming smile on his lips.
âOh hey.â You shrug.
âSeen your latest picture, you killed it.âÂ
âThanks.â
You didnât know what else to say to him.
âHow have you been?â He asks. It was a question youâve been dreading.
âFine.â You shake your head.
âFine?â
âMhm.â
You down the rest of your drink, needing the liquid courage. You didnât need to hear about how great his life was. How he had a beautiful wife and a child. Cooper seemed to take the hint, getting agitated himself.
âI can tell when Iâm not wanted, darlinâ.â He teases you. That nickname makes you want to vomit.
âYouâre not wanted?â You scoff. You were being a bit of a dick but youâll blame your actions on the alcohol. âSays the man who decided he couldnât be my friend after getting married.â
âYou think that was my choice?â
That shut you up. You look at him, confused. Then he continues, âShe knew, you know.â
The kiss. He had to be talking about the kiss. Itâs the only thing she could have known.
âHow?â
âI told her.â He admitted, shrugging. âHow could I not? Sheâs my partner.â
âWow, what a gentleman.âÂ
He shakes his head, sighing. âIf you were in a relationship, youâd do the same. Like, if a guy came and kissed you, youâd tell your partner.â
âI didnât kiss you.â You defend.
âBut you kissed back. You could have stopped me.â Cooper shrugs.
Youâre about to explode at him until Barb comes up to the two of you with drinks in her hands. She offers you a fake smile, passing a drink to him and wrapping her arm around his arm.Â
âY/N! I havenât seen you in ages! How are you?â She asks. You must keep things civil.
âHi. Iâve been just fine, so busy.â You laugh awkwardly.Â
âI didnât know youâd be here. Cooper and I actually have people to talk to but itâs been great seeing you.â
Just like that, she tears him away.
Good riddance.
You spend the rest of the night drinking. People try to talk with you and it's just useless networking. Networking is great until you have to do that for hours on end. You watch Cooper and Barb, seeing them exchange kisses. The living room becomes an impromptu dance floor for couples. He tries to get her to dance with him but it's fruitless. They leave the living room to go somewhere. You hope they leave for a moment until you look at the time.
Youâre about to leave when a handsome man approaches you. Hollywoodâs newest playboy. Tall, brown slickback hair just like James Dean, and a killer smile. He wears a designer suit, sliding up next to you.
âYou come here all alone, pretty thing?â He asks.Â
Fuck it. You take his bait.
âYes. It's been such a bore here all alone.â You pout, jutting your bottom lip out slightly.Â
He wraps an arm around your waist, smirking. âShare a dance with me. Promise I donât bite, baby girl.âÂ
You sway with him, hips pressed against his. His hands rest on your hips. You are far too drunk for this. All you can think about is Cooper. Itâs wrong to think of Cooper when with another man. But when this manâs hand snakes up to cup your cheek and your lips connect, you think of your first kiss. The one you shared with Cooper. This doesnât help one bit. But now youâre on the dancefloor, kissing this man as if heâs your reason for living. You moan against his lips, whining when he bites your bottom lip. He takes this as an invitation to squeeze your ass with his other hand. You open your eyes, making eye contact with Cooper. No Barb by him. Just him on his own.Â
Maybe it was evil to do this, you keep your eyes in focus with Cooperâs as you kiss this stranger. He looks angry. Why should he be angry? In his words, heâs a married man. You close your eyes again, letting your tongue slip into this strangerâs. Staying like this, youâre content. That is until someone pulls the man away from you. You open your eyes and see an angry Cooper standing in front of you. Whining, you cross your arms.
âHey, listen, I have dibs.â The man says, rolling his eyes.
Cooper looks at you with a certain flame in his eyes you canât place.
âArenât you gonna say anything?â He scoffs.
All he can do is drop mister heartthrob on the ground, grabbing your hand. âWe are leaving.â
Before you can protest, Cooper has dragged you outside. Itâs only the two of you.Â
âWhy would you do that?â You whine, leaning against the nearest wall. Your head was pounding.
âI canât watch you whore yourself out for some low-lifeâs attention. Youâre better than that.â âWhore myself out? What the fuck is your problem, Howard? Donât you have a wife to get back to?â
âShe left.âÂ
Before you can get any other word out, he hungrily presses a kiss against your lips. He tastes like cigarettes and expensive liquor. You donât protest. His hands grip at your hair, tugging the strands harshly. He pulls your head back so his lips can attach to your neck.Â
You canât deny the feelings you still hold for him. Heâs the reason you havenât been with anyone else since. The reason youâre in your late 20s and still a virgin. He bites down softly on your neck just to cause a reaction. You moan, tugging at his hair. Cooper finally pulls away, smirking. You look at him, face red. Itâs easy to tell that the both of you are under the influence.Â
âHow many men do you fuck when you go to parties?â He asks, moving a hand down to cradle the small of your back.
âNone.â
That causes him to snap out of whatever haze he was under.
âNone? Nice lie, darlinâ.â
Would it be embarrassing to tell him youâre still a virgin?Â
âNot a lie, Coop.â
You look at him, eyes innocent in this moment. Youâve been waiting for him, as embarrassing as it may seem. Cooper looks you up and down, a sickly sweet smirk plastered on his face. Maybe his wife doesnât touch him anymore. Thatâs the only logical thought on why heâd be acting like this. But nothing is ever logical with Cooper Howard.Â
âYouâre hopeless.â He chuckles to himself before letting you go. Next thing you know, heâs turning to walk away.
You rest against the wall, not wanting this moment to end. You grab his wrist, pouting.
âDonât leave me this time.â You beg.
âI gotta get homeâŚâ
âFuck home.â Youâre feeling gutsy.
âNo. I have to go. If I stay, who knows what Iâll do, doll.â Cooper shakes his head, pulling away from your grip. He walks off to the end of the driveway, signaling a cab.Â
Just like that, heâs gone.
A week later and Cooperâs face is already plastered on billboards for Vault-Tec. Heâs in a stupid blue and yellow suit. His signature colors. It didnât matter where you went, Cooper was there. Itâs a sick reminder of what youâve been through. As more time passed, the more jaded you became. You lived in a shitty studio apartment in the hills. At night youâd drink away your sorrows. You had enough money to buy your own place but a big mansion would feel like you were overcompensating for something.
Roles started to stop coming in. No one wanted to hire you. You were this close to going back to ads. No offense to ads but you were over that. You were nearing your thirties. One evening your agent called, you thought he was going to drop you right then and there. Instead, he wanted to introduce you to someone. Being single this long and being in the spotlight makes rumors spread. A single woman? Label her a communist. Thatâs what started to happen.Â
You meet this man your agent wants you to meet. Low and behold, itâs mister James Dean look-alike. His eyes light up, pressing a kiss to your hand when you meet again. Just like that, you were dating him and getting roles. You played his lover in a film about greasers. You were the innocent good girl next door. Tabloids ate that up. You moved in with him in his mansion. A big beautiful place with a hot tub and inground pool. You were arm candy for him. For you, it was almost like you had never aged. The only thing about you that made it noticeable that time passed was that you became more and more jaded.
One night you have to head to your boyfriendâs premiere for a western he was in. You wear a long red dress that hugs your curves and shows off your breasts. From all directions paparazzi called for the both of you. Now your boyfriend never told you what this film was about but you damn near had a heart attack when you saw Cooper Howard on the carpet with his wife in his arms. He was wearing a black velvet suit with his hair slicked back. Just the sight of him made you nearly choke on air. When he catches a glimpse of you, he bites his bottom lip; however, he notices the man who is holding your waist. That smirk of his falls. Who is he one to judge?Â
You find a spot in the theater and sit down. Looking around, you see Cooper with his wife. Theyâre overly flirty together tonight. Something you have never seen throughout your whole time knowing him. Once the lights dim in the theater, you lean over to your boyfriend and whisper something about going to the bathroom. You make it out of the theater and you never realized how jealous you were. Your relationship now? All forced. You didnât even like the guy. Hell, he kisses like a fish out of water.Â
Going to the family bathroom, you nearly kick the trash can in anger. In this moment you are hit by how fake your life is. How much shit youâve been through and how love is not real. Well not real for you. You grab the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Youâre wearing more makeup than normal. Itâs like you put makeup on a goddamn pig. Right now you have to play the role of a loving and loyal girlfriend. But is that you? Do you love him?Â
Before you could continue questioning everything, the bathroom door opens. You must have not locked it.
âMy bad I-âÂ
That fucking voice. Just hearing it right now is like the universe is taunting you.
âDarlinâ.âÂ
âCooper.â
You face him, a frown on your face. He doesnât look any better. Itâs like heâs seen a ghost. He comes into the bathroom, locking the door. Why would he do that?Â
âHavenât seen you in months⌠glad to see youâre doing well. Iâm sorry about that party. What I did was wrong.â He begins to apologize. âIf I knew you two were-â
âWe werenât.â You cut him off. âI should be going.â
Youâre about to push past him and out of the bathroom until he grabs your wrist.
âListen, I miss you. You were my best friend for a while anâ I just threw ya out like an old toy.â
You donât answer.
âYou look so pretty tonight. That dress⌠you look so good, sweetheart.â
âDonât.â
âI-â
âI donât get you, Cooper Howard. I donât understand how you work the way you do. Youâll kiss me and then act like nothing ever happened. You make me feel insane! What is it with you? Do you do this with any woman you act with? If you do, I feel horrible for your wife.â
His soft expression sours. You know whatâs to come next.
âYou are not one to talk.â He starts, âYou know itâs crazy, I used to like you.â
That makes you laugh. Of course he did. âOh sure you did.â You roll your eyes.
âI did!â He defends.
A part of you wants to believe him but he has been nothing but in love with his wife since day one. What makes him think now it is okay to say this? Is it because youâre with a guy? That youâre not single? At this moment, the tension in the room is too tough. You couldnât even cut it with a knife. For once, you kiss him. Youâre the one pressing your lips against his. Both of you are sober at this moment. Kissing him sober is so much better than before. Your cherry red lipstick is smearing across his lips. Neither of you seem to care. He has you pushed up against the sink, you can feel his arousal in his pants. You push your hips into his, moaning as he bites down on your lip. This time feels different than any time before. Itâs like you know youâre going to cross a line. He lifts up your dress, pressing a finger against your soaked panties. He nearly growls at the feeling.Â
âCan I?â He asks and you nod.
He instantly drops to his knees leaving you confused. In one swift motion, he pulls down your panties. Before you can look down, his tongue runs over your clit. You twirl your fingers in his hair, tugging at it softly. All the times youâve almost had him have led up to this moment. Softly, he sucks on your clit. Youâre about to moan his name but something else takes your attention. Heâs shoving two fingers into you.Â
âCoop!â You hiss, grinding your cunt against his face.Â
He chuckles, swirling his tongue over your clit. You swear youâve died and gone to heaven. No one has ever made you feel this good. Thereâs a fire in your core. He curls his fingers and starts to rock them in and out of you. This just started but you swear youâre going to cum soon. He nips at your clit, playing with it between his teeth.
âClose. Fuck, Iâm close.â You moan out.
Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of you. Pressing a kiss to your thigh, he looks up at you. Without his fingers inside of you, you whine. Looking down at him, you meet his eyes.
âYouâre going to cum on my cock, got it?âÂ
He stands up, struggling with his belt. You try to help him take it off but he swats your hands away. Once the belt is off, he pulls his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. Heâs big. You donât know how heâs going to fit inside of you. Itâs possible but it looks like he could split you in two. Who knew he was packing this whole time?
Cooper lifts you up onto the sink so youâre on display. He pulls your dress up around your waist before coating himself with your arousal.Â
âBeg for it.â He demands, âHow badly do you want me?â
Youâve never begged before. But fuck it. âBadly.â
âHow badly, darlinâ? Use your words.âÂ
Heâs constantly rubbing himself up and down your slit. Everytime he brushes against your clit you lose it, a tiny moan slipping past your lips.
âI want you to fuck me, Cooper. Like all those times youâve kissed me. I need you. I ache for you.â You whine.
He accepts that, slowly pushing into you. It hurts. Itâs bigger than any toy youâve used on yourself. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, whimpering. Cooper doesnât seem to pick up on the discomfort because heâs already starting to thrust in and out of you. He rests his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes and he fucks you. His jaw is hanging slightly as it seems heâs thinking with his cock rather than his head. Every time he hits a certain spot inside of you, you moan louder.Â
âYouâre tight, sweetheart. Bet your boyfriend doesnât fuck you like this.â Cooper grunts, pressing a messy kiss to your lips.Â
âBet he doesnât know how to make you cum.â He taunts.
Youâre already starting to moan again, head tilting back. Maybe once this is over you can tell him that heâs your first. That youâve been waiting for this day. To avoid saying anything stupid, you press a desperate kiss to his lips. Itâs mainly to shut the both of you up. Youâd never let your boyfriend touch you like this. Heâs not Cooper. Heâll never be him. You feel nothing but bliss right now as Cooper fucks you. His thrusts are getting faster, messier. Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead back on yours. Using a free hand, he starts to play with your clit. You feel like youâre on fire.
âGonna cum. Fuck, Coop.â You moan.
This seems to encourage him, heâs getting sloppier. âCum for me, sweetheart. Make a mess all over my cock.â He nearly growls.
You feel a knot explode in your lower stomach as you hit your climax. Youâre digging your nails into his suit as you scream his name. Anyone outside the bathroom could hear the both of you. This was a risky game the two of you were playing. You clench down on him as you orgasm. His cock twitches inside of you as he quickly pulls out. Youâre trying to catch your breath and heâs jerking his cock off. Itâs aimed right at your clit.Â
âGonna cum all over your pretty pussy. Fuck.â He grunts, rambling to himself.Â
His head falls back as he cums. Itâs a lot. Some of it lands on the sink, your pussy, and your dress. Youâre covered in his cum. Still trying to catch your breath, you look at Cooper. His hair is no longer slicked back, itâs falling into his face. Not just that but heâs drenched in sweat. Heâs made a mess of himself. Made a mess of you.Â
While the both of you catch your breath, you feel the urge to blurt something out.Â
âI was a virgin.âÂ
He looks at you, confused and horrified. Confused because he could have sworn youâd have had sex by now and horrified because he took your virginity in the bathroom of a theater. Quickly, he pulls back up his pants.Â
âIâm sorry.â Is all he can muster. Heâs ashamed that your first time was here. That it wasnât special. To him, you deserve nothing but the best in life. Thatâs why he was always scared to hurt you.Â
His reaction is making you feel sick. This isnât how it should be. It should be a cute moment shared between the both of you. Youâre about to open your mouth but he quickly leaves the bathroom. Now youâre feeling ashamed.Â
You take a few minutes before getting up. You wipe whatever bit of his cum off of you that you can. Next thing you do is leave the bathroom and go back to the theater. Sitting next to your boyfriend, the only thing on your head is that you smell like sex.Â
You smell like Cooper Howard.
tag list: @djarinsgirl27 , @cupid-club
part two coming soon
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#pre war cooper howard#fallout#fallout series#x reader#fic: los ageless#ghoul x reader#the ghoul x reader
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Propaganda
Yvonne De Carlo (Frontier Gal, The Ten Commandments, Casbah)â Although most famous for playing Lily Munster in The Munsters, Yvonne De Carlo had a successful movie career throughout the 1940s and 1950s, appearing in such films as âThe Ten Commandmentsâ, âSea Devilsâ and two Munster movies later in life.
Setsuko Hara (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, The Idiot)â "'The only time I saw Susan Sontag cry,' a writer once told me, his voice hushed, 'was at a screening of a Setsuko film.' What Setsuko had wasnât glamourâshe was just too sensible for thatâit was glow, one that ebbed away and left you concerned, involved. You got the sense that this glow, like that of dawn, couldnât be bought. But her smiles were human and held minute-long acts, ones with important intermissions. When she looked away, she absented herself; you felt that sheâd dimmed a fire and clapped a lid on something about to spill. Over the last decade, whenever anyone brought up her lipsâ'Setsukoâs eternal smile,' critics said, that day we learned that sheâd diedâI thought instead of the thing she made us feel when she let it fall." - Moeko Fujii
This is round 2 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]
Yvonne de Carlo:
The woman who brought Burt Lancaster to his knees.
Setsuko Hara:
One of the best Japanese actresses of all time; a symbol of the golden era of Japanese cinema of the 1950s After seeing a Setsuko Hara film, the novelist ShĹŤsaku EndĹ wrote: "We would sigh or let out a great breath from the depths of our hearts, for what we felt was precisely this: Can it be possible that there is such a woman in this world?"
One of the greatest Japanese actresses of all time!! Best known for acting in many of Yasujiro Ozu's films of the 40s and 50s. Also she has a stunning smile and beautiful charm!
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She's considered by some to be the greatest Japanese actress of all time! In Kurosawa's The Idiot she haunts the screen, and TOTALLY steals the show from Mifune every time she appears.
"No other actor has ever mastered the art of the smile to the same extent as Setsuko Hara (1920â2015), a celebrated star and highly regarded idol who was one of the outstanding actors of 40s and 50s Japanese cinema. Her radiant smile floods whole scenes and at times cautiously undermines the expectations made of her in coy, ironic fashion. Yet her smile's impressive range also encompasses its darker shades: Hara's delicate, dignified, melancholy smile with which she responds to disappointments, papers over the emotions churning under the surface, and flanks life's sobering realizations. Her smiles don't just function as a condensed version of her ever-precise, expressive, yet understated acting ability, they also allow the very essence of the films they appear in to shine through for a brief moment, often studies of the everyday, post-war dramas which revolve around the break-up of family structures or the failure of marriages. Her performances tread a fine line between social expectation and personal desire in post-war Japan, as Hara attempts to lay claim to the autonomy of the female characters she plays â frequently with a smile." [link]
Leading lady of classic Japanese cinema with a million dollar smile
Maybe the most iconic Japanese actress ever? She rose to fame making films with Yasujiro Ozu, becoming one of the most well-known and beloved actresses in Japan, working from the 30s through the 60s in over 100 hundred. She is still considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses ever, and in my opinion, just one of the greatest actresses of all time. And she was HOT! Satoshi Kon's film Millennium Actress was largely based on her life and her career.
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I am going to be sentimental and serious for a second. The fact that a mainstream show (Marvel of all franchises) is giving us canon gay characters, with a main canon ship being WLW, is so healing for those old enough to remember the days of shipping women in a show or film who were constantly partnered up with men. For those of us who know all too well the pain of being queer-baited or having to experience queer characters through online forums, roleplay, fanfics, AU edits and fan sites.
The fact that Agatha All Along is a successful series with an all-female lead cast and two gay characters at the centre of the story (portrayed so fantastically by Kathryn Hahn and Joe Locke) is so refreshing to see. Especially as there is no heterosexual man in sight, whether as a lead character or in the form of a love interest. It is clear that Agatha only has eyes for one WOMAN.
I just feel like if I went back in time to tell my younger self that she would get to see queer characters and queer love celebrated and at the centre of mainstream stories, she wouldnât have believed me. Yet here we are.
It is so heart-warming to witness, and Iâm so pleased our community is being platformed and written humanely, with wit, complexity and warmth above all else. Too often we see queer characters who are simply just there to be the token gay but with Agatha All Along, queerness is at the very heart of this coven and I cannot express how much Iâve needed a show like this in my life. Oh, to write a thesis on what this representation means⌠If only I had the time.
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willow (Cillian Murphy x Actress!reader) - evermore series
evermore series
A/N: I had an idea up on my masterlist about falling in love with Cillian while filming a movie so I just decided to merge it with this. Also I saw the picture of him and Emily Blunt walking in costume on the set of Oppenheimer and I thunk thoughts. (sidenote: I cannot write a summary to save my life)Â
Extra info: I never say the title of the movie you guys are filming in the fic because I didnât really want to get too detailed about it, but then I thought of the plot of The Delinquent Season the entire time lmao (I just changed random things because Iâm a sucker for an age gap). Also, weâre pretending Oppenheimer hasnât happened yet because it works for the story.Â
Edit: I feel like the ending sucks but Iâm too tired to change it. Sorry.Â
Summary: When you met Cillian Murphy on set, you were already a fan. When you left, you were so much moreâŚ
Word count: 9,772 (oh my gosh I went so overboard with thisâŚ)Â
Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, age gap, PinV sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, toxic!Cillian, like 0 communication between characters, secret relationship, not proofread but they never are (please let me know if I missed any)Â
Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.Â
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You met Cillian Murphy for the first time five hours before you kissed him. Despite being cast in the lead female role, you were a rather late addition to the movie. Issues had come up with the actress initially cast and you had gotten a phone call about two months before shooting started to get yourself to the studio to sign contracts and start costume fittings. This was an amazing opportunity, and regardless of the rush, you were excited to have it. You had been in movies before, of course, but this was your first lead role and if you did a good enough job, it could skyrocket your career trajectory. Aside from all the good things it could do for your career, you were simply excited to get to work, and to get to work with such a good cast and filmmaker.Â
On top of all of that, you would be working closely alongside the Cillian Murphy. When you were told that he was to be your costar, you had been in shellshock for a moment before pressing an obnoxious kiss to your agentâs cheek. Cillian Murphy was one of those actors that only came around once in a lifetime. He was only in tasteful, and well done projects, playing a variety of the most interesting characters you had ever watched. You had seen Peaky Blinders, Inception, Dunkirk, and though you had no interest in superhero movies, you sat down and watched all three Batman movies just to watch him play a villain. In the few interviews you had done up to now, you had mentioned once or twice that you believed him to be the best actor of your lifetime, someone who was left unrecognised at awards shows but deserved all of them and more (as you walked onto set for the first time, you really hoped he hadnât seen any of those interviews). So, to say you were a fan before the movie might have been an understatement, but you had worked with other people who you were fans of before, and Tom Glynn-Carney only had nice things to say about you afterward; you could be professional and a fan.Â
You had been put up in a hotel the night before you were to be driven to the studio lot, your new home for however long you were going to be filming there, and in the morning a polite chauffeur arrived in a blacked out car to take you there. You felt a little giddy during the drive, as you always did before starting a new project. You hadnât learnt the rhythms of the set yet, the directorâs process, whether it would be a rush of technical work or a more relaxed set. You hadnât worked with most of the other actors, you didnât know how they approached the job, whether they were welcoming and friendly or preferred to focus on the job then return to solitude. It was all the unknowns that made your stomach feel swoopy, but you had come to like the feeling, viewed it as a challenge, the beginnings of an investigation to learn about your job and home for the rest of the duration of the project.Â
You were deposited into the custody of one of the many assistants running around, and hurriedly walked to your trailer with a warning that you would only have five minutes to put your things down, change into your costume, possibly have a sip of water, before you would be taken to hair and makeup and given your costume. You smiled brightly at her, nodding and affirming her over and over that you understood. Your first actual job on a movie set had been as an assistant, you knew her job was hard enough without an actor giving her attitude, so you simply followed her.Â
The area you walked through was like the other studio lots you had been to before, large buildings that looked like warehouses on the outside but probably held the coolest sets or the most intricate technology on the inside. People drove around in golf carts, some assistants sprinted while yelling down the phone, others hurriedly rolled clothing racks between buildings. You could see someone giving an interview in the distance but they were too far away for you to tell who it was.Â
The trailer you were led to was in a wide space filled with other trailers, what you imagined the setup area for a circus looked like. It was bland and white on the outside, your name in big letters surrounded by the shape of a star (some intern clearly had fun with Canva) on the door, and you felt that bubble of excitement all over again. You let the assistant open the door for you, thanking her and shooting her a smile as if inviting her to join in on the excitement you felt before stepping in. It was exactly as you had expected it to be, and that made you happier than anything else. There was a small kitchenette area with cupboards and a minifridge. A counter separated it from a little seating area, couch seats against either wall, before a tiny hallway (which could barely be called a hallway) that had the door to the bathroom on one side and led into a little bedroom (which was just a bed with a little space on the side to walk and nothing else). Your clothes were hung up on a little hook on the bathroom door.Â
You deposited your tote bag on the counter and went to the minifridge, pulling out a bottle of water and taking a big gulp. Ice cold and delicious. You scrunched yourself up and did a happy little jump and squeal because you were living the dream, and nothing could be better than that. You messaged your parents and friends that you had arrived, sent pictures and a little video of the trailer, before picking up your costume and getting into the little bedroom to change.Â
It was a simple pair of mom jeans, well fitted and slightly higher than your ankle, accompanied with a plain white blouse that had blue detailing around the neck and off the shoulder sleeves that ended just after your elbow, something you could imagine a mum wearing on vacation in Greece. It was comfortable, and you made a little note to ask the costume designer where she got the pieces because it may or may not have been the best pair of jeans you had ever worn.Â
You were able to take another big gulp of water before a knock and a voice at the door was telling you to get to hair and makeup. The trailer for hair and makeup was closer to the actual block of buildings you would be filming in, and a little golf cart was ready to take you there. You let out a little laugh as you settled yourself inside, chatting with the driver as he manoeuvred around people and other obstacles to get you there.Â
It was quieter in this corner of the studio, more people walking than running, less things being shifted around in a hurry, and you felt a sense of calm in the air (or at least whatever semblance of calm one could get on a movie set). The driver stopped right in front of the doors and you thanked him, laughing at the parting joke he told you about a dog getting loose in the lot. You went up the first two steps for the trailer when the door swung open and you had to jump back to avoid being slammed into the wall with it. Someone came walking out with their head down, turning back to smile at someone else who had wished them goodluck from within the trailer. They paused when they finally noticed you, and you opened your mouth to say something but not a word came out. They smiled with a huff of a chuckle, and all you could think was that he was so much more beautiful in person than what any camera could capture.Â
âI hope I didnât whack you with the door,â he winced apologetically and you just took a deep breath in, shaking your head then breathing out quickly and laughing at yourself.Â
âNo, no, I just managed to avoid it,â you breathed out, giggling because your stomach was suddenly tingling and you couldnât quite feel your hands (or maybe you could feel them too much).Â
âOh, good,â he nodded, âwould not have been a good way to introduce myself. Cillian Murphy,â he held out his hand, smiling and polite, his eyes piercing through your skin. They were so bright, so blue. You blinked then kept staring into them as you brought your hand gently into his, hoping your grip wasnât too limp nor too firm.Â
âY/n L/n, it is so nice to meet you. Iâm sorry, Iâm trying really hard to hide how starstruck I am and I think Iâm failing,â you admitted, cheeks suddenly burning. You always talked when you were nervous, which meant you always overshared when you were nervous. But he just laughed, a deep chuckle that made his chest shake and drew your attention to it. He was broader than you, and wearing a cosy looking black sweater that you desperately wanted to push your face against and feel rub against your cheek. The sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows and you could see the round collar of a white t-shirt poking out at the neck.Â
âDonât worry, you were doing a good job so far, until you admitted it anyway,â he did that little huff-laugh again and you pressed a hand to your face, scrunching your eyes shut in shame at the bombardment of thoughts running through your head that made you feel brainless at the same time.Â
âAlright, well then,â you laughed, shaking your head and stepping to the side so he could finally walk past you (which you thought he had wanted to do the entire time but was too polite to point out). âIâm sorry for keeping you trapped here, Iâll let you go wherever you need to go Mr. Murphy.âÂ
âPlease, itâs Cillian,â he frowned in that way that said âdonât bother with such formalityâ, and waved the hand in the air that was carrying his script as if to bat the title away.Â
âRight, sorry, Cillian,â and you smiled brightly because he was looking at you with those beautiful, beautiful, eyes, and watched him walk down the steps, wave back at you, run a hand through his hair that had been styled messily, and head for the door of the first building.Â
When he had disappeared through the door, you slammed the heel of your hand against your forehead until it stung a little and made it feel like your brain had moved around in your head, grumbling âMr. Murphy? Seriously? Youâre an adult too, ya know? You can call people by their first names now, for fuckâs sake.âÂ
Cillian chewed on his lip as he sat in the foldable chair on set, waiting for everything else to be set up, his co-star to arrive, and the director to start dictating everything. He enjoyed these few minutes before filming, they helped him focus in on the set, get into the mind of his character, evaluate the situation and what would be needed from him. But he had a little extra time today, and he didnât mind either because his mind was a little distracted.Â
He didnât think he had ever been called âMr. Murphyâ by a co-star, and it made him laugh because it felt a little ridiculous, but it also made him wonder if you were just young or overly respectful. A quick google search told him you were younger, much younger, but didnât necessarily answer the question.Â
Regardless, he liked you, thus far anyway. He liked the way you looked, your hair was pretty and you had kind eyes, and you smelled nice, a soft flowery perfume. And he liked your voice too, a little loud sometimes, a little too quiet others, but it was nice. He hadnât seen any of your movies, but he was feeling positive about you. Perhaps too positive, but he shut down that thought process with a snap.Â
The makeup artist was best friends with the hairdresser and they were both some of the sweetest people you had ever met. They chatted with you the entire time, laughed at your story of embarrassing yourself in front of Cillian, comforted you that he was a nice, easygoing man who wouldnât hold it against you, and offered you the little snacks they had lying around. Your hair was put into a simple braid, slicked down with pommade to control the flyaways you were plagued with, and the makeup was so natural you would question if you were wearing any if you hadnât been there while she was rubbing and brushing the products onto your face.Â
The costume designer had left some jewellery for you with them, and they helped you clasp the necklace and earrings while you rummaged in your bag for your script. The director had come in while your hair was being done and told you about some of the last-minute changes to the script and the scenes that were being filmed. The âfirst kissâ scene was going to be filmed at the end of the day instead of in two weeks time because of scheduling complications and the intimacy coordinator would work with you and Cillian during the break at midday while they filmed some of the scenes that didnât have either of you in them. You had simply nodded, you couldnât have argued anyway, you didnât have any authority here even if you had a lead role, and just told him youâd look over your script and mark it out. He had patted you on the shoulder with a smile and hurried back out and you had resisted the urge to press your face into your hands lest you ruin the makeup.Â
Of course you were a little annoyed, you had been told to prepare for certain scenes and those were the scenes you had prepared for, but as you took deep breaths and rifled through the many pieces of advice your therapist had given you, you knew this wasnât a problem to waste your feelings on. They would be lenient because of the last minute change, and if they werenât originally then they would have to be because you werenât a magician. A few deep breaths and reading your lines for the first scene you would be filming calmed you down and returned you to the necessary headspace for filming.Â
You thanked both the makeup artist and hairdresser, then put in your headphones as you slowly walked toward the set. You needed to be in a sombre mood, needed to feel that apathy and sadness clawing at the edges of your mind. Your character was struggling, her life was falling apart and she felt like she had no solution, only minor escapes during her trysts with Jim, Cillianâs character. You tucked the script under your arm as you got to the set, taking out your earbuds and looking around for the director. You met eyes with Eva Birthistle who smiled widely and waved at you, excusing herself from the assistant director and walking over to you.Â
âHello, hello!â She hugged you tightly and you returned the greeting against her shoulder.Â
Eva was the only member of the cast you had gotten to meet before filming began. One of your fittings had been at the same time as hers and you both had gotten to chatting about the movie. She was an absolute sweetheart, someone you could see as a mentor for yourself, and you were glad to see a familiar face on the set other than the director, a bonus that it was one as welcoming as hers. She wrapped her arm over your shoulder and led you over to the cluster of chairs behind the camera where Cillian was already seated, chatting with Andrew Scott. They both looked up and smiled at the two of you as you came and sat down on the remaining two chairs, Eva already engaging them in conversation.Â
Looking at all of them sitting there, it hit you for the first time that you were the youngest person here, in both age and experience. These were all people who had done multiple movies in a variety of roles, had been acting by the time you were born, and had made names for themselves. A wave of shyness hit you that you scolded yourself for, your cheeks burning as you sat down and shook hands with Andrew. Thankfully, the wave didnât last, because Eva and Andrew were chatty, and both ready to include you in the conversation.Â
You were glad for this little moment, though it took you out of the headspace of the character you were trying to settle into. These were all people you would be acting closely with, yelling at or kissing on camera for the next few months, and the more comfortable you could get with them the better.Â
Andrew was sweet, asking you questions about past jobs, the interview process, how you felt about your character, an endless supply of questions, jokes, and responses that made him an instant friend. Eva chimed in with her own stories and jokes, piling on top of his and making you laugh until your stomach hurt. Cillian was quieter, only speaking when directly spoken to or simply laughing along with the jokes, but his simple presence was enough for you to feel warm in your bones and excited at the prospect of acting with him. He was so nonchalant, so calm and focused but not deterrent or rude. While you seemed to learn a multitude about both Eva and Andrew, you learnt little about Cillian other than that he preferred living in Ireland to anywhere else.Â
You thought maybe it was better that you didnât get to know him too much. It would make the intimate scenes feel less personal, less intense. He genuinely was one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen and it was too easy for an actor to fall prey to the emotions of a scene in real life. You didnât want to suddenly be sitting there after a sex scene wondering how similar it was to the real deal with him. You were here to do your job and nothing more.Â
The conversation had quieted down as different checks were done on set and it was almost time for you all to convene with the director to get filming started. Cillian was reading quietly from his script, a pair of rectangular glasses with rounded edges and dark rims sat on his nose as he rubbed his index finger back and forth across his bottom lip. You watched him for a moment, the soft movement of his lips as he silently formed the words. Then the director was calling you all up and you felt like you were being snapped out of a trance you hadnât known you had entered in the first place.Â
âAlright, you guys have had a small dinner get-together at Jim and Danielleâs house. This is a sort of regular thing, every couple of weeks, maybe once a month, you have this dinner get-together. Youâre all sitting at the dining table across from each other, picking at the final pieces of your meals. Jim and Danielleâs children are asleep upstairs and you guys are simply drinking wine and talking.â He walked you all over to the dining table and pointed out the seats, sitting you down first next to Eva before scrapping the idea and having you sit across from her and beside Andrew. Once you had all been assigned your seats, he turned to Eva and Cillian.Â
âYou two have been married for a long time, you have two children, youâre in a place in your lives where you believe youâre simply secure in your relationship, but if anyone pokes into this itâs fragile, and youâre not sure if youâre secure and still in love, or youâre just going through the motions of a life you have lived for a long time and donât actually enjoy. You donât question anything anymore, just go to work, come home, kiss each other, cook dinner, have a little chat before bed, and do it all over again, day by day.â Then he turned to you and Andrew. He looked at you for a moment before reaching out, pausing just before touching you and silently asking if it was alright. You nodded happily, and he gently pulled your braid to rest over one of your shoulders, moved the pendant on your necklace so it rested a little more to the left, and pulled one of your sleeves a little further down so just the edge of your bra strap was exposed.Â
âYou two have also been married for a while, but things are a little different. You married Chris right after graduating uni, most of your adult life has been married life. Chris is older, was already pushing forty when you guys got married. All of your friends are his age, mostly couple friends, and youâve always felt pushed into this older, more mature role, that you donât necessarily feel successful in. You lean on him quite a bit during these situations, deferring to him to answer difficult questions or when talking about your family life. Chris takes this in stride, itâs how it has always been in your relationship, even after years of marriage and a child. Chris is struggling silently recently, heâs easier to anger, feels a little distant, but honestly? You donât even realise. You donât know what heâs hiding, you donât even know that heâs hiding anything. Andrew, the weight of the disease, hiding it from his family, all those private struggles, are always in the back of Chrisâs mind, ok?â Both of you nodded and as you went to sit down at the table, he beckoned you and Cillian over to the side saying, âjust a moment.âÂ
Cillian stood next to you with his arms crossed, the black sweater still pushed up to his elbows, and the edge just brushed against the skin of your arm. You shivered and stretched out your neck for a moment, a nervous tick, before returning your eyes to the director speaking in a low voice.Â
âAlright, you two are sitting diagonally to each other at the table. You guys take the term âfriendsâ loosely. Youâre friends because sheâs friends with Danielle and youâre Danielleâs husband. Youâre friends because youâre both couples who are friends, but youâve never spoken to each other without your spouses in the room. Ok? But there is a little bit of intrigue, I guess. You glance at each other, not for long, just barely a look, or you meet eyes while one of you is talking to the group. I donât want chemistry, I want the possibility of chemistry. Jim is laidback, especially compared to her husband. Sheâs pretty and young, especially compared to the other people at the table. I donât want to notice anything between you yet, I want to come back and watch the movie one day in the future and suddenly notice that thereâs something there, but too subtle to hint at the future affair. Ok?â You nodded as he spoke, feeling yourself settle into that focus you usually found just before filming, no more smile and twinkle in your eye. âAlright, break a leg,â and he was walking back to the cameras. You turned to Cillian for a second and he nodded at you, those eyes that you would never forget looking over your face for a moment before he headed for his seat at the table. You clenched your jaw for a second, staring at his back as he walked away, before shaking your head and holding it up high on your way to the table.Â
âAlright, change costumes, change the lighting, weâre moving to the living room scene for the next couple of hours, I need the kids and Eva there, please. Cillian and Y/n, head down to studio three after changing, the intimacy coordinator is already there, you have a couple of hours to get it together before we start filming. Hop to it everyone!âÂ
You were happy to be moving on. Though you had been in films that took even longer for singular scenes, you were starting to feel stale in that environment and reverting to the exact same routine over and over. An assistant was quick to come up alongside you and direct you back to hair and makeup.Â
âYour costume is already there, and once everythingâs been changed, someone else will come get you to take you to studio three,â he told you, not once looking at you but rather at the clipboard in his hand filled with typed and handwritten notes.Â
âOk, thank you,â you nodded, watching the assistant nod goodbye before doubling back to find Cillian to relay the same information. You stood still and watched him for a moment, the glasses tucked into the neck of his sweater as he nodded at the assistant.Â
The longer hair looked good on him, you thought. It was going a little grey in the places around his ears but you liked it more that way. His cheekbones cast shadows on his face in the dim light, but you could still see the faint freckles over his nose and the very light smattering he had on his neck. You could even see the freckles on his forearms and it made something warm bloom in your stomach. He looked up and directly at you. Those eyes⌠those eyes you could spend hours talking about, uncaring that you probably repeated yourself multiple times simply because of how beautiful they were. You smiled, something that could just barely be considered a smile with only the corners of your lips twitching up for barely a moment and your eyes fluttering, before turning away and walking out of the studio.Â
You ended up changing in the corner of the hair and makeup trailer, both the women standing with their backs turned to you as they organised pins and palettes and chatted away. Your next costume was a set of oversized mauve-coloured pyjamas that felt a little too thin for your liking. You were a little relieved that it was only the first kissing scene being filmed. You had read the entire script twice over, and you knew about the other scenes to come that required a lot more of you. You had only ever filmed one âintimateâ scene before, and even that had only been a rather simple kissing scene. While this scene was definitely more than that, it didnât feel as big of a leap on the first day simply because it cut off after the kiss.Â
Your hair was let down from its braid, mussed up with the hairdresserâs hands and sprayed with hairspray. All your makeup was wiped off before they went to work again. Dabs of eyeshadow in strategic places made your eyes look slightly puffy, like you just woke up from a haggard sleep. Purple under eyes appeared out of nowhere and the faintest bruise was brought to life on your right cheekbone. Little dabs of red on your lips made them look bitten and your nails were chopped roughly to look like you had been chewing on them on and off. Again, you thanked the women and in a simple pair of slippers made your way outside to meet with the assistant responsible for guiding you to studio three.Â
It looked like a school drama studio on the inside, with blackout curtains hung all the way around, a black linoleum floor and big wood blocks wrapped in fuzzy material pushed to the edges of the room. You would have taken your shoes and socks off outside the room out of habit if you had known what it looked like on the inside. You smiled to yourself at the thought, before quickly shuffling over to where Cillian stood talking to two women who looked like the opposites of each other. One was dressed in plain white pants, a white blouse tucked neatly into said pants, and a cream coloured cardigan. The other wore a poncho-style dress that fluttered as she moved her arms and was covered in dizzying bohemian patterns. Ten necklaces were draped over her chest, anything from chains to rope, and she had a bandana neatly wrapped to keep her hair out of her face.Â
âHi! I hope Iâm not late!â You called, stopping just beside Cillian and smiling at the two women who looked old enough to be your grandmothers (the realisation that you would be making out with someone right in front of them was not a pleasant one).Â
âNot at all, we were just talking about boundaries,â Poncho Lady told you warmly, reaching out to shake your hand. The one in the cardigan followed suit, though she was quieter, and you simply smiled brightly at both of them before waiting for instruction.
âAlright, give your scripts here and just stand in front of each other.â Poncho Lady gently pried the script from your hand, took your tote bag from your shoulder, and set them both down on one of the wood blocks Cardigan Lady had pulled over. âOk, so weâre just here to make sure you donât feel uncomfortable doing this scene, that no one pushes past any hard boundaries, and to make it seem natural without being unprofessional. Now, before you get to it, is there any place on your body that you would be uncomfortable with your partner touching?â You shook your head and watched Cillian mimic the reaction.Â
Awkwardness was cloying at the back of your neck and you desperately wanted to open your mouth and make a stupid comment about how it would just look weird in the movie if he grabbed you between the legs anyway, and it took every ounce of your willpower to keep your mouth shut. âAlright! Letâs get started then! Weâll interrupt when needed.â You turned to fully face Cillian, tilting your head back slowly when you realised how close he was standing. He was still wearing the same jeans and sweater, but the shirt underneath had been changed to a black one, the neck perpetually poking out.Â
You dipped your head down again, pressing your hand to your face as you began rambling about how stupid you were and how insane it was for you to be asking him to have an affair with you. Your eyes were squeezed so tight you could see white flashes on the backs of your eyelids. Then, gently, he was interrupting you, voice low as he told you that it was fine, everything was fine, you did nothing wrong, he completely understood, you were tired, emotional after everything. But you kept berating, spitting out words about how he was so good looking and so loyal and you were you, a horrible friend and obviously never a second thought on his mind. And then he was cutting you off, rambling in return about how youâre a beautiful woman, and he canât lie that he hasnât thought about you, heâs a man who can appreciate beauty after all. But he could see that you werenât calming down, could see you slowly folding in on yourself in your panic. Then he was grabbing your hand. Gentle, soft fingers wrapping around your wrist, skin warm and making your own feel tingly. You took a deep breath, your chest visibly shaking, and he brought his other hand to your chin, slowly tilted your head back up to look him in the eye with his fingertips. You blinked, eyes big and wide, and he pressed your hand to his chest, covering it with his own.Â
The sweater was so soft under your fingertips, and you desperately wanted it for yourself. His palm was warm on top of yours, warm and firm and unrelenting. You tuned into the sensation of his heart, a wild beating, and your face changed to just hint at concern.Â
âCan you feel that?â He asked, voice so low it was almost a whisper.Â
âItâs racing,â you breathed out, flexing your fingers against his chest so they caught a bit more of the material of his sweater.Â
âYeah,â he huffed out with a smile, and you moved just a little closer, reaching down to grab his other hand and pressing it to your own chest. His fingertips were a little cold, and your entire body shivered, a small sound leaving your lips. Your fingers were slightly threaded with his, and you pressed his palm to the place where your collar split away and exposed your chest. His hand covered so much of your chest, his pinky and index dipping under the fabric, and was so gentle on its own that you pressed it more firmly against the skin. You wanted his fingerprints imprinted on your skin. He breathed out shakily, almost loudly, and your next breath mimicked it as you closed your eyes. It was so hot in the room.
Both of you stood there feeling each otherâs heartbeats for a moment, his head dipped lower so your foreheads almost touched. You were standing so close you could feel each otherâs breaths against your lips and the sides of your noses just brushed every so often. He gulped, licking his lips as sweat began to build on the back of his neck and the need to rip the sweater off was soaring in priority in his mind. Your lips just brushed each other, cupid's bows just grazing-Â
âAlright, so thatâs where you say âfeel my breastâ and begin guiding his hand under your shirt,â Poncho Lady interjected, looking up from the script in her hands.Â
You let go of Cillianâs hand and stepped back quickly. It felt like stepping into an air conditioned room from a hot sunny day outside. Your insides were still warm, and the heat that had been tinging your skin hadnât completely gone away, but you were more awake, more aware. You licked your lips and gave a small smile that you hoped didnât betray the sudden embarrassment falling upon you.Â
You had been in the scene, you had been lost in it. There had been times before when you were acting and when stopped abruptly felt like you were suddenly reentering your body, like your soul had been extracted for a few moments into a different person and then quickly pulled back and thrust into its original form. But this was a different level. This had been you and not you at the same time. You had been doing those things, had wanted to do those things, but you were also being controlled by something outside yourself, being told to do those things. You quietly excused yourself, saying you had left your water bottle in the hair and makeup trailer and would just quickly run and get it. As you turned back one last time at the door, you watched Cillian run a hand through his hair and smile at Poncho Lady as if nothing had happened since he had walked into the room.Â
After the door closed behind you, Cillian happened to glance at your tote bag on the block, and saw your water bottle peaking out. He laughed quietly to himself as he sat down next to it.Â
He understood how you were feeling. Intimate scenes were always hard, regardless of how many times an actor has done it. Especially intimate scenes when two people have palpable chemistry. If Poncho Lady hadnât interrupted, he would have kissed you right then.Â
Usually kisses between actors were saved for only when they were filming, but he had been lost in that scene, lost in you. Your eyes, teary and pained and so big, were so authentic that it had been easy to fall into his role, the saviour, the anchor. And as you guys had stepped closer and closer, and his senses were bombarded so much, he had lost himself more and more. Your perfume from earlier had worn off, but your skin smelt so good, like cocoa butter body wash.Â
From his line of sight, he could see a sliver of your neck where your hair had fallen behind your shoulder. In the moment a sudden, impulsive thought had flashed in his mind, the intense need to lean down and press his mouth to your neck, to kiss it and let his tongue just poke out and drag over the skin. He could even see it now as he sat and waited for you to return, the place where your neck joined your head and the skin went up to behind your ear. He closed his eyes and let himself linger there.Â
Then the scene moved on and so did the little movie in his mind. Your hand in his, so soft and gentle as it settled against his chest. Then his hand in yours, your fingertips slightly sweaty and shaking. For a moment he had considered letting his hand stay limp, wanting to see how you would manage to drag the weight of his arm, but that was another intrusive thought that had to be pushed away.Â
The skin on your chest was firm but with how firmly you held his hand against it he could feel the slight give of your flesh. His finger had just barely stroked your collarbone as his hand had rested there and he had wanted to move his hand so much more, to so many other places. Up to your neck to feel the soft skin there, to see if he could make you do that full-body shiver again. Down to your breasts, to the delicate skin stretched over them and then to cup them, to feel the weight of them in his hands.Â
Cillian opened his eyes and took your water bottle in his hands, opening it and drinking from it as you came back into the room. You looked directly at him and he smiled at the wide-eyed, almost scandalised, look you gave him. He brought the bottle down and screwed the cap back on, putting it right-way up on the block for you to clearly see. He could see a little flush in your cheeks, and watched you rub the tips of your ears with a mischievous smile.Â
Poncho and Cardigan Lady didnât even notice that you returned without a water bottle.Â
The intimacy coordinators only made you rehearse the scene two more times before letting you go. They said you both seemed comfortable enough, that you understood what the other person was and wasnât comfortable with and you were left to your own devices. You left without a glance back and told an assistant you would be heading back to your trailer. She nodded, telling you that someone would come get you for touch ups on your makeup in an hour, and then you walked the entire way back to the makeshift trailer park.Â
You only got about fifteen minutes on your own before someone was knocking on the door. You had washed all the makeup off, reasoning that you could simply head back early on your own and give them the time to do it all over again. As you walked, you tied your hair up in a ponytail, awkwardly opening the door with one hand. Cillian smiled politely up at you, arms crossed over his chest and you simply stared at him with wide eyes, blinking stupidly.Â
âHi,â his smile was jovial and infectious, but the one you offered in return felt forced. You felt so awkward around him now, as if you had violated some trust by being so caught up in the moment. âI thought we could walk around a little bit, get to know each other. I think it helps a little bit when filming roles like these.â You paused, fidgeting with the door handle.Â
You had really wanted to take a nap, to reset yourself before filming the scene all over again. But this was such an enticing invitation. And maybe it would help you push past all this awkwardness. Maybe getting to know the other actor was better than not knowing. Maybe feeling connected worked better because you had more to think about, more defence in the moment.Â
You nodded, holding up your finger for him to wait a moment so you could put your sneakers on and deposit your slippers in your tote bag. He waited patiently, leaning against the outside of the trailer while thumbing through the script. You hopped down the steps and waited for him to take the first stride before following alongside him, taking a winding path back up to the studios.Â
âWhat do you keep in this all-important tote bag?â He asked, eyes squinting in the sun as he teasingly tugged on one of the straps.Â
âOh, heh, just little on-set essentials. Phone, headphones, little snack,â you paused, âmy water bottle,â you added quietly, pursing your lips as you watched his smile widen.Â
âThatâs quite a nice idea, I should think about getting my own,â he nodded as he spoke, and you just smiled. Both of you walked for a little bit without saying anything, and just as the urge to open your mouth and spew out whatever comment happened to be on the tip of your tongue became almost unbearable, Cillian spoke again. âHave you filmed scenes like this before?â He asked, and you knew there were other questions behind it, insinuations. You felt embarrassed all over again, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking straight ahead to the path you were walking.Â
âUm, once. And it wasnât even this intense. I was working on this show, a supporting role with a romantic storyline. I was working with Tom Glynn-Carney?â He let out a little âahâ nodding his head in recognition, muttering a âgood ladâ. âYeah, it was really small, like a chaste âthis guy has been my boyfriend for the past two years and Iâm just leaving for workâ kind of kiss.â He laughed at that, genuine and melodic, as he looked at the floor and shook his head before looking up to the sky like he was exasperated with your silliness. âAnd Tomâs really sweet so it went really well, but this has a lot more expectation on it. It feels like going from the kids' pool to the deep end.â You chose to leave out the fact that his very good looks and insane acting abilities made it that much more difficult.Â
Both of you paused for a moment, turning to each other in the late afternoon light. He stared at you and you wrapped your arms around yourself again, suddenly feeling like you were exposed to the elements. Slowly, he reached up and pressed the tip of his index finger to your cheek just under your eye. You stared at him, at his lips as he breathed in, and the moment was so slow, so natural, that for a moment you considered stepping forward and kissing him. But someone hit fast-forward again and he pulled back, holding up his finger to you.Â
âIâm sorry, you had an eyelash,â he explained. âMake a wish,â he whispered, holding it close to your lips and you waited a beat, looking into his eyes as you leaned closer and blew the little eyelash away. You felt like you couldnât breathe. You turned and began walking quickly, a rain of dread suddenly drizzling onto your shoulders. Maybe it was a premonition, maybe it was delusion, but something told you that all these moments were leading to something and you wouldnât necessarily come out of it for the better.Â
You pressed his hand to your chest, breathing in slowly and looking into his eyes as if everything youâve ever wanted was held there. His fingers flexed, just slightly, and you began to move it down, dipping it under the edge of the pyjama shirt.Â
âFeel my breast,â you whispered, guiding his hand into your shirt until you could feel it searing the flesh of your breast. He was breathing heavily now, chest shaking as he pressed even closer to you, moving his head so his nose lightly brushed your nose. You tilted your head up further so your lips were aligned and only a little move was necessary to connect them. You looked into each otherâs eyes for a moment, thoughts racing, trying to decipher what the other person was thinking but also knowing exactly the thoughts that rain through their head, peaking themselves out into their eyes. And then he was kissing you, mouth slightly open, pressing your bottom lip between his. You moved the hand on his chest up to cup the side of your neck, steadying yourself as he gripped onto your chest and devoured your mouth. And his tongue was in your mouth, delving in and pressing to yours, and you couldnât breathe but you didnât want to either and his thumb was pressing against your nipple and your entire body was tingling and-Â
âCut! That was perfect, guys!âÂ
You pulled away slowly, so so slowly. Your lips still stuck to his a little as you moved away. His hand was almost lethargic in its pace to snake out of your shirt, and you moved your own down from his neck to his chest before bringing it back down to your side. You were both breathing heavily, glancing away from each other then back, away then back before you finally turned away and walked off the set toward the chairs and cameras. You licked your lips as you walked, trying to savour the taste of him.Â
The director let you all go for the evening, telling you heâd see you all bright and early on the other side of the studio lot for the âsecond meetingâ scene. You hauled your tote bag over your shoulder and practically ran to the golf cart. You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed.Â
You didnât bother eating dinner, just did your night routine and lay down on the bed. There was a little window in the bed area covered with blinds that had been left unfolded. Yellow light from somewhere on the lot was shining in through the cracks but you couldnât be bothered to move them. You lay in a state between sleep and wakefulness until midnight. Your brain was buzzing with too many thoughts but you were too tired to think through them.Â
Five minutes past one, and there was a knock at your trailer door, three soft thuds. You shifted on the bed, lifting your head up slightly to listen for another one. It came, the person was trying to be quiet, and you slowly slid out of bed. You tiptoed to the door and only opened it an inch. Cillian stood directly in front of the trailer, so close to the door that if you opened it wider he would basically be inside. He was wearing a plain white round-neck shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, his hands shoved into the pockets. His hair was still relatively neat, which meant he hadnât gone to bed yet, and you suddenly felt self-conscious, patting down the back of your head as you blinked up at him. He smiled, a small thing that didnât reach his eyes, and you opened the door a little wider, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie down so they wrapped over your fingertips.Â
âCan I come in?â He asked quietly, low and serious. You nodded, moving back and letting him close the door behind himself.
You both stood in the little space between the kitchenette and the door. You felt fully awake now, but everything in the world was still. There was pin-drop silence and you two simply looked at each other. Then he was moving forward, slowly, one step at a time, until he was standing as close to you as he was when you were both filming earlier, maybe even closer.Â
Every breath you took made your chest brush his. You could feel your nipples tightening and pushing against your hoodie. He brought both of his hands up to cup your head on either side, then leaned down and kissed you firmly. It was slow, a little pull back and then he was pushing in, kissing you again. Everything inside you was slowly heating up, like a saucepan set on a low fire. Your limbs were filling up with it, there was a lump at the back of your throat, and your core was slowly tightening into itself. Your hands shook and you lifted them to press into his sides, clenching your hands into the soft material of his t-shirt. He kissed you again and again until you were heaving your breaths in and leaning your upper body onto his.Â
Cillian pulled away and looked at you, a pause as if waiting or asking, and you simply pointed behind you at the little hallway that led to the bedroom. He nodded, just one little movement of his head tipping down, then he pulled away, grasping your hand in his and walking you both to the little bed area.Â
The blinds were still spilling orangey-yellow light into the room, and he simply sat you on the bed before turning around to adjust them so they were closed a little tighter but still let small slits of light into the room. Then he got on his knees right in front of you, pushing himself forward so he was between your legs and your knees pressed into his ribs. You were taking deep breaths in, staring at him with parted lips as he brushed your hair away from your face and kissed you once.Â
Everything felt so⌠small. The room was only the space you two inhabited, your breaths were his breaths, your eyes only looking into his eyes, your lips only existing to kiss his. His fingers gently burrowed under the fabric of your hoodie and began lifting it up. He waited for you to raise your arms then slowly removed each of your sleeves, dropping it into a heap next to himself. You were only wearing a bra underneath it, and he lightly caressed your stomach, watching you shudder out breaths at the sensation. He reached up with his other hand and slid one of the bra straps down your shoulder, touching the little mark it had left behind before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to it. Then the other strap was shifted down, another kiss on your shoulder. Your mouth was dry, your hands shaking. You wanted him to consume you.Â
You reached out and lightly tugged on the collar of his shirt. He instantly leaned back and took it off, exposing pale skin and softly defined muscles. Each ridge was gentle, like the artist had painstakingly smudged out any harsh lines. You wanted to feel his body pressing down on top of you.Â
He gently tugged your shorts down your legs, waiting patiently for you to lean back and lift your hips up so he could get them off. His right hand moved to splay over your stomach, gently pressing until you were laying flat on your back while his left hand lifted your legs to rest over his shoulders. He slowly pulled you forward until the small of your back was curved to the edge of the bed and all the weight of your lower body was on his shoulders. He looked up at you once, bright blue eyes so shiny in the dim light that you wanted to stop and take a picture. But you only breathed out a little shuddering moan as he pressed his lips against your pussy, poking his tongue out and gently licking between the folds. You clenched your eyes shut, one arm thrown carelessly above your head as you bit down on your other hand.Â
It was warm and wet and hot. The room felt humid and your skin burned. His lips were so soft, his tongue skillful, and your hips rolled with every movement, warm tendrils of pleasure moving in waves through your body. He licked until your thighs were messy and you could feel his cheeks stick to the insides. He pressed the tip of his tongue inside you until the pressure at your entrance was making you convulse and the sounds leaving your lips were a little too loud for your own liking. You bit so hard into your hand that you were sure your teeth marks would be there the following morning and let your body quiver on the bed as he pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.Â
You could see his chest heaving up and down and you pushed up to lean on your elbows, watching him push the sweatpants off his hips before draping himself over you. You closed your eyes and fell back onto the bed, letting him spread your legs and drape them over his hips. When he pushed into you, you curled around him. Your legs tightened around his waist, your arms wrapped around his torso and you pressed your face into his shoulder, muffled sounds spilling from your lips and into his skin. You could hear him panting directly by your ear, feel the wet breaths against the shell of your ear as he turned his head to nip at it. He began moving, backwards and forwards, pull and push, drag and rub. You pushed your hips up against him, a little âunhâ sound pushing from your chest when the little space below his belly button pressed perfectly against your clit.Â
You lost yourself in the pleasure. Time didnât exist in that space, only the feeling of your insides climbing up, reaching for something that would make stars burst behind your eyes. It was the feeling of the bed sheets rubbing against your skin, the clasp of your bra pressing into your back. It was his skin sticking to yours, your hands digging into his back, his lips on your cheek, behind your ear. It was the sounds of your hips meeting, soft consistent thumps that slowly began to increase in speed.Â
And then you were there. The moment where everything was just right. When the weight of him inside you and the press against your clit lined up perfectly. When his lips were pressed against your cheek and somewhere a star aligned in the universe. It was like warm flowers blooming inside your stomach, so brightly it was almost painful. You clenched around him, pressed your knees to his ribs as tight as they would go. You clenched your teeth tightly together but pressed your mouth to his shoulder so all the sounds came out muffled and weird, high pitched from the back of your throat or deep from the pit of your stomach.Â
He groaned when he finished, hands gripping your hips so tightly you felt them even after he let go. His eyes were scrunched shut and when his hips convulsed a few times he almost hissed at the sensation. He quickly pulled out, falling down right beside you. Neither of you moved for a long while.Â
When your joints finally felt like they would no longer fall apart if you moved, you slowly turned to lay on your side. He was already looking at you, eyes soft and tracing over every feature of your face. He reached out, blunt fingertips gently brushing hair off of your forehead and cheeks. He stroked one with his thumb, then moved forward to press the gentlest, most loving kiss against your lips. You kept your eyes closed even when he pulled away.Â
He was gone when you woke up in the morning. You thought you dreamed it for a moment, the most vivid dream you had ever had in your life. But you were naked under the blanket, and you never remembered pulling it up from the edge of the bed so someone had tucked you in. Your hoodie and shorts were folded and placed on the tiny nightstand beside the bed, and your blinds were fully closed. When you shifted to get out of bed, you could still feel the way fingertips had pressed into your thighs and a soft soreness throbbing between your legs. Not a dream.Â
But then everything felt weird when you left the trailer. You didnât see Cillian until you were on set for filming and he was busy with the director until âaction!â was called. You followed him after âcut!â but he only sat and watched the scene over or read from his script. He smiled politely at you, gave you a wave when he caught you looking, but made no special effort to come over to you.Â
You felt off-kilter the entire day, like a joke was being pulled on you but you couldnât figure out what it was. But then, as you curled up in your bed after sunset, watching the sky darken through the window, he knocked on your door again. And you let him in, let him kiss you and take you to bed. And in the dead of night he wrapped you up in the bed sheets, whispering little jokes, telling stories, watching you like you were precious. And then the cycle started all over again the next day.Â
You reasoned with yourself. You guys were still at work, you needed to be professional on set, and it seemed to explain everything away. He snuck into your bed at night, wrapped his arms around you and kissed you, coaxed you into sleep eventually, but never in the daylight. Not even a touch other than the ones on camera.Â
You couldnât feel yourself getting attached, couldnât see yourself manoeuvring your life around him until you knew you would beg for him to just take your hand in the daytime once, let you call him your man. You came when he called, followed where he went. You didnât realise until you were devoted, didnât realise until the willow had bent to the wind.
Taglist: @4ria790
#cillian murphy#cillian x reader#cillian fic#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillianmurphy#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy characters#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x oc#willow#willow by taylor swift#willow taylor swift#evermore inspired#evermore#taylor swift inspired#evermore series#album series#inspired#the delinquent season#willow inspired#willow taylor swift inspired#song fic#song inspired fic#music inspired fic
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Monsters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
âHe ate my heartâ
Pairings: Manjiro âMikeyâ Sano x female reader, Izana Kurokawa x female reader
Series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now youâre going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
Content warning generally: DARK CONTENT, Tokyo revengers AU, female reader, virgin reader, heavy smut, polyamory, Dark Impulse Mikey, Manipulative Izana, inaccurate/inconsistent university terminology, heavy angst with little comfort, betrayal, misogyny and sexism, emotional, physical and mental abuse, mental break, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual harrassment, dubious consent, noncon, drug, alcohol and substance misuse/abuse, extreme violence, use of weapons, Torture, criminal activities, PTSD, paranoia, emotional incest, power imbalance, character death(s) (not reader), anal penetration, mention of self-harm, religious guilt and trauma, religious themes, Vouyeurism, gangbang, masochism, sadism, hard kinks, strangulation (non sexual), psychological horror (more warnings to be added soon)
main masterlist||taglist link||playlist [available on a03 + extra chapters and wattpad]
Chapter 1: Warning Signals
chapter summary: Being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.
cw: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.
wc: 10.1k
Chapter 2: Shots Fired
chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesnât take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.
cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, religious guilt, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, implied domestic abuse, victim blaming, blackmailing, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break, psychological torture, use of firearms
wc: 11.6k
Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils
chapter summary: Emma has a suspicion that both her brothers are into you when you all go shopping. She couldnât be farther from the truth.
cw: coming soon
wc:
Chapter 4: The Calm
chapter summary: After your college professor tries to harass you for grades, you turn to the oldest Sano for help. But nothing comes for free, not even for Emmaâs sweet friend.
cw: coming soon
wc:
Chapter 5: Act on Dark Impulses
chapter summary: You knew better than to trust Mikey and Izana. Yet you fall for their plan hook, line and sinker and live through the worst night of your life.
cw: coming soon
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Chapter 6: The Closest youâll ever get to being in Love
chapter summary: Things get sicker and twisted with the two brothers and Emma is none the wiser.
cw: coming soon
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Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulations
chapter summary: You learn the hard way what happens when you refuse to be their stress relief because of your important exams.
cw: coming soon
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Chapter 8: Divine Intervention
chapter summary: You are called home to bury your mother and learn that nothing has changed since you left.
cw: coming soon
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Chapter 9: Lead me not into Temptation
chapter summary: Emma notices that something isnât right with you when you come visit her in the Sano residence.
cw: coming soon
wc:
Chapter 10: Deliver Me from All Evil
chapter summary: Youâve finally broken the cycle, but at what cost?
cw: coming soon
wc:
authors notes: updates are irregular, depending on when i have time. some chapters have been re-written to fit the original storyline. don't pressure me to update and please don't be rude to me. I do not condone any negative actions done on this fic. comments, reblogs and asks are very much appreciated. if you are a minor, please refrain from interracting with this series.
taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra
#tokyo revengers masterlist#tokyo revemgers series#mikey sano#izana kurokawa#manjiro sano#manjiro sano x reader#izana kurokawa x reader#tw. dark content#read the labels
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Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!
I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?
The things I had been told going in about this show:
it's about car racing (this bores me)
it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)
it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series
it's high heat
(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)
Here's a definition of omegaverse:
Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)
In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)
Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.
Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:
Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him
Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen
Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence
Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role
Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh
All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.
And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.
Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems
This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.
My initial reaction:
the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is
how dare
but also
what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?
we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?
apparently this is my reality now
I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,
yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...
Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars
and I'm beginning to think they may be right
BL is now the platypus of the film industry
4 days later:
Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.
But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.
On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?
More random thoughts:
Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.
The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...
Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)
Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.
None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!
I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.
Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.
How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.
I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)
Controlled burn?
Anygay, see you all next week.
Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once
[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]
3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)
Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.
Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).
Wait wait:
Calling Daddy Actual
(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)
Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.
Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.
Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)
Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.
Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.
File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.
Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.
This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.
Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?
Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.
Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?
Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.
Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.
nuh-uh
Linguistic corner!
Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.
Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.
I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.
Get it? Snake.
He and Babe should end up together.
The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?
Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.
Also...
WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)
I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.
Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.
Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.
But one should be with Noh.
Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux
Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.
How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.
I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.
Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.
Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.
Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.
Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.
Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.
I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.
So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.
#giveWayaboy2023
Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible
Hereâs the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now itâs kind of like a soap opera. I donât hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamantĂŠ scenery (completed with death glitter). But...
If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.
Instead, right now, I donât know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. Iâm kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. Itâs uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers.Â
Also... I have questions.
Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?
But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?
That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. Itâs very traumatic and Iâm not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying.Â
On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:
Thereâs absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.
#giveWay2Kim2023
Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?
Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?
What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.
Plot thickens.
Hah.
Thickens.
(I am an immature idiot.)
Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?
Look, BLabies, I didnât get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasnât anything worth capturing.
I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now.Â
Is that?
NO.
Don't get the plastic bowl.
No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope. Â
I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.
AND the main boys are back together.
I donât find their relationship or Babeâs lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.
Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.
BUT I do love the sides.
Jeff = the introvert precog who canât/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesnât understand him.Â
Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants?Â
I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.
On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!
In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and itâs probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.
Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?
This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.
Whatever.
Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.
Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?
The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)
Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.
Please & thank you.Â
Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.
I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.
That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.
Hello, my gender is... enigma.
 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e! Also sometimes switch-eeÂ
Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.
Funfunfun
Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.
OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?
3 seconds later.
Noooo.
Wait come back.
Noooooo.
Thatâs what I actually want to watch!Â
OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?
I flipping love Alan.Â
Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.
Poor Way.
But nice crying jag, and I donât say that often in Thai BL.
Now let him go, Way.
A boy with his arrows is waiting.Â
(source)
Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.
#pit babe the series#pit babe#thai bl#abl trash watches bl#Pavel Naret Promphaopun#pavel phoom#trash watch#2023 bl#currently airing bl#watch along#Nut Supanut#Pon Thanapon#ŕ¸ŕ¸´ŕ¸Šŕšŕ¸ŕšŕ¸
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Why Twisters is an amazing movie
Brought to you by snapghoul and their film degree
I really love analyzing films and I need to talk about this movie so badly. Get cozy, grab a nice drink because this is a long one.
Spoilers below
[ Part 2 ]
1) Disaster film - Human vs Nature
Disasters films are one of the most difficult movies to write and shoot because itâs human vs nature and people can only do so much. They are to remind us that we are very fragile, nature very dangerous, and a visual metaphor for the illusion of control. Making a film like this also requires a lot of CGI or a balanced mix of practical effects which in most films today is not as common due to budget.
When looking at films like San Andres (2015) or Day After Tomorrow (2004), both films are more action based. San Andres is written worse to worse before it gets better which is externally common in films like these, the earth quakes that lead to a tsunami and so on. The film also ends with the hopeful âwe wonâ with the American flag and everyone recovering.
What makes Twisters stand out is the presence of the disasters are there but they arenât what drive the characters solely, the tornadoes themselves are actually a subplot. Itâs not tragedy after tragedy, like thereâs an ungodly amount of tornadoes at once and people are dying left and right. And when people died it wasnât graphic, I appreciated that very much that it was only people being swept away and not bloody. The tornadoes themselves only take up about 30 minutes of the 2 hour movie, which is very little compared to other storm films.
The main story is Kate working to overcome her trauma and relearning how to love chasing and being in the field again. They are an obstacle that do end being the âantagonistâ towards the end of the film where Kate drives into the EF5 to stop it. Twisters is more written in a way to respect nature, to see the beauty and the power of the earth. Twisters also ends more ambiguous, there is the moment of triumph but itâs very short lived before the resolution of Javi, Kate and Tyler at the airport.
2) Kateâs Character & Relationships
Kate is one of the best written female protagonists Iâve seen in a very long time. Through the film she is struggling to over come a lot of trauma while also trying to juggle her crumbled friendship with Javi and her disconnection with her mother. Her struggles are very real, they werenât played down or exaggerated, she had realistic response to being in a tornado again after the death of her friends. They also show her reliving that event many times, in the beginning we see a âghostâ of Jeb telling sheâs okay, the moment she sees a tornado with Javi up close, she stumbles back and the voices of Jeb as theyâre riding out the storm in the pool and how she grabs Tylerâs hand for a second to see if he was still there.
I personally loved that she refused to acknowledge her fear when around others because that is a very human thing, many people do it which makes her very dimensional and relatable. How she didnât give Ben her last name, how she told Riggs she wasnât scared. Itâs such a real things that it makes me froth at the mouth because it such good writing.
As many people are upset that Kate and Tyler didnât kiss, I actually agree on why they cut it out, itâs not about their budding romance. In movies there are many different subplots, in Twisters, Kate and Tyler are I would say around subplot C. Which I LOVED, i loved that they didnât have all her problems fixed by a love interest or how his character downplayed her intelligence. In fact he elevated her character, Tyler is there to remind her the passion and fun of their field, he is also a blank slate with Kate, he has no preconceptions about her or history which allows her to open up and reignite her passion she had before.
And her hair symbolism! How we see it slowly gets more brown and less bright beach blonde that we see in New York.
Kate and Javiâs relationship I would also place at subplot B, Javi trying to get Kate back in the field but doing it in a not so right way. They have some unresolved issues between them regarding the trauma they share and it rears its head multiple times. The line âthree of my best friends died while you were trying to land a big fat grant.â Was a real nail in the coffin for them but also it opened Javiâs character development up for the end of the film. Not only that but they and audience known that he agreed to getting the money at the beginning. So them splitting up was good because neither of them could get what they wanted or process anything when they were together. And in the end the come back together when they grow and change.
Also have to mention Kate and her mom, because itâs more growth for Kate, her mom comes in as the mentor character type, she refused to let Kate throw anything away and pushed her and Tyler together because she saw what he was doing.
3) Tyler Owens & The Wranglers
Of course I have to talk about our favorite tornado cowboy. His character is so interesting, he adds so much to each character, like a said above he only lifted Kate up.
But what I loved most about him was the infectious enthusiasm and passion he just oozed about weather. Even with the cocky YouTube personality he was having fun which was a contrast to Javi and Kate who were there on business. He is also very bright, instead of having a self taught chaser he had a degree, he knows what heâs doing and how to be safe while doing stupid stuff. The scenes where we see him showing her science side were some of my favorites, seeing him geek out over the storms and setting up models just showed heâs as much as a nerd and Kate.
His character is also very compassionate as well as the wranglers. We learn they sell merch so they can provide free food and water to survivors, that Tyler and Boone spent a while looking for a dog and that Lilly offered Kate food before she left. We see Tyler put himself in danger for the safety of others many times but not in a hero archetype way, heâs not a hero in any way, heâs a man who deeply cares, understands tragedy and knows how important friends and family are.
4) Music & Sound
Oh my god, the music in the film is phenomenal. Sound makes up a good majority of a movie, without good sound a film can flop. What I loved most about it was a lot of the music was diegetic: taking place in the world and can be heard by the characters. Seen(or heard) Ainât No Love In Oklahoma playing through the speakers as the wranglers roll up, accompanied by a shot of the loud speakers on the motor home and the audio editing to make it sound like itâs coming from said speakers. (Ghost) Riders in the Sky blasting while they go to shoot fireworks, seeing Tyler whipping the truck through the field very recklessly also sets up that these characters are wild and obnoxious. Boone singing along to Dead End Road while loading flares, it adds another element of fun for them to interact with the music instead of it there so let for aesthetics.
If there was music for the action scenes, it wasnât overpowering, in fact i barely noticed it until my third watch through.
The soundtrack is also really good, Iâm not a huge country fan but my god did I by that OST vinyl so fast.
5) The Trucks
This is an honorable mention, but the red sped up dually ram was a character in its self. Once again showing the rugged and fun loving wranglers when put next to StormPARâs pristine white trucks which is also a metaphor for Javi that we see it gets dirtier and dirtier as the film progresses and his character changes. But also how the red ram represents Tyler, heâs very safety oriented and the truck is a part of him and protects Kate during the final storm. She puts her trust in it and lets nature run it course instead of fighting it, something Tyler was trying to teach her. Not to run from it but to ride it.
But also Tyler ripping that rig through fields going 75mph is also just so funny to me.
I love symbolism.
Iâm gonna stop it here before I write a whole essay about this which I might. But if you havenât seen this movie I highly recommend it, itâs PG-13 so I suggest being careful watching this with little ones if you have them, the CGI storms can get a little freaky.
(Please let me know if you want more, I will gladly talk more)
#twisters#daisy edgar jones#anthony ramos#twisters movie#glen powell#glen powell tyler owens#tyler owens#daisy edgar jones kate carter#kate carter#boone twisters#the wranglers twisters#javi twisters
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Hii! I love your work!! Could you do a halloween party imagine with any of your characters? or all of them meeting our poor y/n, it'd make a cool crossover
Free form however you like!!!
âââââŕźşâĄŕźťâââââŽ
YANDERE!HAREM X FEM READER
HALLOWEEN PARTY // AU IMAGINE.
warnings ;; mostly crack, yandere behaviour, male yandere(s), female yandere, mentions of drinking, demon summoning (silas), mentions of blackmail (none to Y/N), alternate universe, not canon to anyone's plot.Â
a/n ;; Hi Anon! I know halloween is over but this is such a good idea i couldnât miss out on it!! By the way, in each one of the yandere stories, Y/N has a slightly different personality. So I wasn't sure whether you wanted me to do multiple Y/Nâs or just one. So I decided to combine the personalities into one. Good luck<3 (please let me know if there are any mistakes.)
CLICK HERE FOR MY MASTERLIST (intro to all the yanderes)
â°ââââŕźşâĄŕźťâââââŻ
Hopeless. You felt hopeless as your left arm was dragged around like a piece of meat by the girl no one swore to mess with
âCome on babe~! Wear the angel wings, we have to be matching!â Reina grits her teeth as she attempts to place the wings onto your unwilling back. The fire headed girl gives up with a scoff in her throat before walking over to your mirror and reapplying her dark red lipstick, adjusting the horns that perfectly matched with her crimson wavy hair.Â
How did she even get into Y/Ns house in the first place?
You remember pretty clearly. Today is the 31st of October. You were well aware that it was halloween and perfectly content with staying inside your humble abode. Youâd buy a bunch of bulk cheap candy and scarf it down whilst watching some classic horror movies. Not enough to scare you, but to make you physically cringe.
That was the plan, Perfect right? There would be nothing to stop you from having a peaceful night of binge watching shitty films.
Apart from the three vastly different individuals who were all pining over you. Though they were complete opposites, they all had a way grinding your gears and irritating you to no end.Â
Reina, the delinquent who made your life as the school president 10x worse. Sheâd constantly hang around you during lunch and break, surrounded by her delinquent friends whoâd make jokes you wouldnât get but would laugh in fear of getting made fun of. Not to mention the lessons youâd have to miss in order to supervise her during the detentions she had purposely got. You think you spend more time with her then you spend eating the gross lunch your school provides.
Kieran, the playboy who suddenly switched up his entire role once he realised you werenât interested in him like the others were. God, if only you pretended like you were. Maybe that wouldâve stopped him from bothering you in all your science classes with his weird sexual jokes or flirty overbearing personality. Yeah he was a bit funny and maybe he sometimes made your day with his stupid jokes but that came crashing down once he would say his tenth pick up line to you all in one lesson.Â
And then thereâs Alex, the jock whoâs the captain of the football team, a tad bit stupid but still had the personality of the literal sun, which made him the most tolerable but still pretty overwhelming for your average dream life. He was the last one to pop up in your weird harem, he stuck around you like a lost puppy once he realised you didnât like his team. âIâll make sure you like me, no matter what!â â were his exact words.Â
These individuals had a very high reputation in school, most people liked them and often idolised them. So, why were they all vying for your attention? People would go to great lengths to be in your shoes, yet all you desired was to lead an ordinary student's life.
Your internal monologue was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of your phone, and you didn't even have a moment to guess who might be calling before the sound reached your ears (You would've had two guesses). -- In response, Reina let out an exasperated groan and struts over to you.
She confidently picks up your phone and shuts it off before snapping her fingers in your face.
âHow have you still not put the wings on.. god what would you do without me!â If you didnât know any better, from the tone of her voice youâd think she was annoyed. But in reality you noticed the glint in her eyes. She was genuinely pleased that she had gotten to help you. Happy that you had to ârelyâ on her.
âProbably live a peaceful lifeâ You murmur under your breath, not realising the close proximity of you two until she snaps her sharp eyes to your tired gaze.
"Excuse me?" The green-eyed girl arched her eyebrows, her lips forming a grimace of annoyance.Â
âI said I would probably live a very sad life.â You quickly defer, letting out a sigh of relief once she relaxes her eyebrows and shows you a soft smirk.
 Reina grabs her bag and sprays perfume onto her body, walking over to your bedroom door before abruptly stopping, throwing her arms up. âCome on then! We can't be too fashionably late~â You curse whoever invented halloween parties, and trail behind her.Â
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Just ten minutes into the party, and you were already contemplating grabbing that cowboy-clad strangerâs prop gun and pretending to shoot yourself with it. Music boomed against your ears, drawing out any coherent thought as the smoke from Reinas cigarette mingles in the air. It was as if your personal space ceased to exist, with the red haired girl's body pressing against yours, her presence enveloping you. The sensation became overwhelming, the close proximity sent shivers down your spine. You had no ability to escape, seeing as the delinquent had her friends form a tight circle around you both, acting as protective guards you didn't need or want. There was no room to escape for you, too intimidated to say a word.Â
âHey Y/N!! Is that you?!â A loud voice shouted amidst the music, crowd and smoke. Reinas whole friend group snaps towards the noise, seeing who dared to interrupt the leader with her âbelovedâ. Despite Alex being faced with gnarly stares, all he could see was his cutie dressed like an angel. He settles his drink down on a nearby table, exchanges hurried farewells with his football teammates, and rushes his way towards you. Â
The tall friendly giant had no struggles breaking the circle you were trapped in. It was like the sun beaming past a bunch of angsty rain clouds, two things you usually dreaded. But in that moment, you found yourself silently praising the towering, 6 '6 human puppy as he enveloped you in a massive bear hug.
 As he released you, his strong arms remained on your shoulders, and he beamed at you with eyes that formed crescent moon shapes.
He stuttered an apology for the sudden physical contact before staring at you up and down with his doe like eyes and a massive grin. âWowâŚyou look stunning, like a true angel. Youâre my angel!â He giggles proudly because of the cheesy line he made. The jock completely disregards his earlier apology as he wraps you in another tight hug. You murmur a âthanksâ and lightly tap his back in return, your lips thinning with a hint of awkwardness as you look around and notice Reina's friend group staring at the two of you as though you'd just committed a crime. Alex's firm grip gradually loosens as he comes to a realisation, and he reluctantly lets you go, you notice his boyish grin turned into a pout. âI invited you to this party, I bought a whole matching outfit and everything! You told me you couldn't come!â The brown eyed male whines , his brows furrowing as his beady eyes bore into your soul. During this moment, you couldn't help scrutinise his Halloween costume.
âDid he seriously just throw on his jersey with some fake blood around his neck..â you pondered silently, shooting him a disapproving stare due to the minimal effort he had put into his outfit
Your initial expression of curiosity transformed into one of slight disgust when you realised that the intended matching costume was going to be âthe jock and his cheerleaderâ
âHow originalâ You thought sarcastically.
For the second time this night, your thoughts were interrupted, but this time it wasn't a ringing phone. It was Alexâs voice, laced with sadness whining in your ear. He pouts as he gazes down at you, gently poking your halo headband, waiting for your response.
âBasically what happ-â
Before you could even begin to explain that you had no intention of attending the party, regardless of who insisted, not until the delinquent showed up at your doorstep and mildly threatened you, your words were cut short. The moment was disrupted as she forcibly pushed the sulky jock away from you.
Despite her noticeable lack of height compared to the towering jock, Reinas attitude definitely made up for it.Â
âSpeak of the devil..metaphorically and quite literally.â You snort at your own joke, before quickly composing yourself and directing your attention to the scene unfolding in front of you.Â
Alex and Reina, two people who couldn't be any more different but they were both madly in love with you. In school, you had always managed to avoid confrontations involving the both of them, but it appeared luck wasn't on your side tonight.Â
âWho do you think you are, barging into this conversation where no one invited you? Don't you have dumb shit to attend to? Like shotgunning a dozen beers?â the delinquent spoke with a withering glare, she grabbed your arm and forcefully pulled you away from him. The crowded party left little room to manoeuvre, so she practically made you turn your back on him to ensure you were separated.
Unfortunately for her, that allowed the charismatic loveable jock to shed his facade, and shoot her an uncharacteristically intense gaze. His eyes grew dark and his typically cheerful face contorted into a look of hatred and envy Though it only lasted for a second, anyone who wouldâve seen it, the memory would linger in their thoughts for days.Â
Reina, being unlike anyone else, didn't perceive his gaze as a threat, but rather as a golden retriever attempting to imitate a wolf. She scoffed and protectively grabbed your hand.
"I'm pretty sure forcing Y/N to be surrounded by your..." The jock paused, glancing at each of Reina's friends, carefully choosing not to insult them, not out of fear, but out of respect with his beloved watching. ".. interesting group of friends might not be comfortable for her. Anyways, don't you guys have more fun plans, like commit vandalism?" He delivered with a cheerful tone, tilting his head to the side in a display of âadorableâ confusion.
While the male may come across as unintelligent there are some quirks to his character that reveal a different perspective. He possesses a unique knack for framing his words and expressing himself in a manner that radiates positivity.
âHeâs so stupid and oblivious , he doesnât mean what he says!! He's just asking a question, he means no harm!â â is what most people think.Â
 But Reina, being a delinquent who often deals with various groups of people, can read him like a book. She knows heâs showing less than what he truly is. What he can truly become. And although she doesnât give a shit about how he acts around others, she knows heâs interested in her Y/N â and thatâs why he needs to stay away from her girl at all costs.Â
With Reinas anger level rising, she lets out an annoyed grunt before softly pushing you back, The delinquent puts one finger on the jocks chest.
You think for a second that you should probably step in, Not because you want to but because you have no idea who will win. Reina most definitely has a weapon in her bag somewhere and also her group of friends who would kill to protect her surround you three but Alexâs strength and height can cover that. Though from what you know the delinquent is a lot more aggressive than the âpacifistâ himbo so he may have a bit of a disadvantage.
Nonetheless, you decide not to intervene and just watch the two idiots fight it out. It's not your issue right? You didn't need any more attention than you already had coming to this party tonight.Â
As they both stare at each other, Reina opens her mouth to speak but gets cut off by someone tapping her back. One of her friends grabs her arm and she turns a whole 180 degrees, ready to scream at whoever is trying to hold her back. Her eyes are narrowed as she pushes the said friend away from her. âWhat the fuck is your issue, Thomas?!â You now learned who the guy's name was, Thomas. He was dressed as a pirate and barely flinched when Reina screamed at her. He must've been used to it. All he does is show her phone, and mutters âLook at who's calling you.â Reinaâs angry expression turns into one of disbelief as she roughly grabs the phone away from his hands. She looks at Alex one last time with a scoff before she excused herself for a moment and engaged in a heated argument with the caller. You couldn't help but overhear snippets of their exchange â it was clear that Reina was being pressured to leave the party. She hung up, her face etched with reluctance, and then turned to you.
"Babe, I've got to go, I'll still be at the party. " she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "Just promise me you'll head home soon, okay?" Your face drops into a frown, though you didn't particularly like the aggressive delinquent, she was one of the only people you knew at this party.. Well except for the man who's staring at you with love struck eyes as of right now. Before you could say anything, Reina left your side, with the group of delinquents who followed. She didn't forget to barge into Alex as she was leaving, though it didn't really affect him â he was too focused on the fact that he was alone with you right now.Â
 The overexcited jock happily grabs your arm and drags you around the whole house of the party, Although he was meant to be giving you a supposed âtourâ; you noticed he was just staring deeply at your face whilst speaking. You came to the conclusion that he didn't really know what he was doing, he just wanted to impress you.
Amid the swirling costumes and pulsating music, You felt as if you were caught in a whirlwind. Every step you took was accompanied by Alex, who remained steadfastly close. The bulky man stayed close, like an overprotective guard dog, as you both navigated the crowd. Y/N couldn't help but feel suffocated by his constant presence. You desperately needed a moment of peace, a brief escape from his watchful eyes. You decide to ask him for a favour, of course heâd help you.Â
 You finally mustered the courage to speak up, tugging at the edge of Alex's costume and turning to him with a gentle but tired smile. "Hey, Alex, do you mind getting me a drink? I could really use a break."
The jock beamed at you, happy that you trusted him enough to do something for you. âThat must mean you like him right?! That's how it works!!â
 "Of course, Y/N," he replied, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll be right back with your drink. Just stay right here, okay?"
You nodded gratefully, allowing yourself a sigh of relief as Alex disappeared into the crowd, determined to fulfil your request. The distance that had separated them, albeit briefly, was a welcome change, and you could breathe a little easier.Â
Although he told you to stay where you were, you began to wander around and observe the revelry around you. People in all manner of costumes danced, drank, and got a little too comfortable with each other.Â
You let out a yelp as you open a door to a couple grinding on each other. Murmuring a dozen apologies, you leave the room flustered.Â
As you lose yourself in your thoughts and in the house, you notice a familiar white haired male approaching you, with a wide cheshire grin, Kieran; the host of the party.Â
The playboy moved through the crowd with an air of confidence and intrigue. He was dressed up as⌠a prisoner with handcuffs. Or as heâd probably say âa sexy prisoner.â âPlease don't come here, please don't come here, please don't come here.â Is the phrase that repeatedly pops up in your head as you try to look at anything but him.Â
âBoo!â The playboy whispers in your ears as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He then turns you around and ignores the pout on your face, Inspecting your outfit whilst biting his lips.Â
âAre you done eye-fucking me?â you sneered, crossing your arms as you tried to move slightly away from the playful male. "Oh man, you would've looked prettier as a princess~" he purred, his voice carrying a flirtatious undertone, his words accompanied by a roguish grin. You were clearly no stranger to Kieran's personality and annoying nickname for you. You roll your eyes and retort "Well I'd rather not deal with the whole 'damsel in distress' shit tonight," a hint of sarcasm laced in your response.Â
Kieran laughed, unbothered by your resistance. "Ooh but I'd have so much fun saving you princess~!â he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But what made you change your mind coming to my party? I rang your phone like two hours ago and you didn't pick up.â He questions with a raised eyebrow, his sly smirk still displayed on his face before he laughs.
âMissed my face that much huh? Shouldâ just said! Would've came running to you.âÂ
You couldn't be bothered to talk about how you were forced to come to this stupid party, and also not wanting to mention Reina because for some reason they both had some weird dislikement towards each other. âJust had a change of heart.â You say before turning around and attempting to walk away from Kieran, but again luck wasn't on your side as he grabs your arm and tuts. The dimly lit room with the midst of the crowd, made you focus on the playful man's eyes and you noticed a shine in his eyes whilst staring at you. Before you could tell him to let you go,he whispers closely to you, so close that you could faintly smell the alcohol and mint laced in his breath. âHey this is my party yâknow? Let me show you a more secluded area, perfect for an introvert like you~â He teases as he drags your arm downstairs, and into one of the rooms which he had to twist to unlock. You silently cuss the playboy as you notice his entire group of so-called friends in the room. LEDÂ lights which displayed red, multiple couples in the room doing God knows what.
 As you both walk further into the room, Kieran, too busy dabbing up people who you never once saw in your life, You notice a pile of unlabeled drugs and drinks on the table that was in the centre of the room. Quickly looking away, you squint your eyes as you try to notice anyone that youâre familiar with. In the corner of the room, there's a girl wearing a red corset with red horns, matching yours. You notice her angry expression as she converses with the two people around her. It was Reina. She notices your gaze and her face slightly softens, As she approaches you, she notices your arm being held by Kieran. Her face returns to the expression of which you first saw in the room. The white haired male doesn't notice the vexed delinquent yet, and he stares at your face in confusion as he notices you watching something, following your line of view he finally sees the girl wearing the devil costume. âOh hey! Didn't know I invited you to my party?â He says playfully, but you notice the snark in his voice. Reina seems to notice it too as her face contorts into one of jealousy. âYou guys know each other?â She questions, her question directed towards mostly you. Your hands begin to sweat as you attempt to stutter out an excuse, but for the second time this night, the living sun in human form interrupts your conversation by walking into the room, except this time he didn't have a happy expression, it was evident that he was sulking.Â
Your eyes drift to his hands, noticing the drink in his hands that you had specifically asked for. âShit..â you think to yourself and for the first time you felt bad for the jock. You didn't mean to leave him for that long! It was more of Kierans fault for dragging you away. âI have your drink Y/NâŚâ He says with wide eyes and pursed lips, clearly upset that you had just left him. With an apologetic gaze, you gently take the drink away from his grasp with a thank you, as you look away with a little guilt. âOh my god, not this freak here again!â Reina scorns,disdain in her face as she stares at both Alex and Kieran, they stare back with disgust. The entire school year, these three constantly hung around you and you still managed to never make them interact whilst you were there, in fear of any of these bold characters causing a scene. But of course, the one day where you especially didn't want to see any of them, they all surround you possessively with jealousy tangled in their eyes. Could this night get any worse? -
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It most definitely can. You managed to calm them down and now you're all sat in a circle, with random people you don't know. Kieran sat down next to you on the right, while Alex occupied the seat on the left, and Reina sat across from you, clearly not happy with the seating arrangements.
Whilst the room was filled with chatter, one of Kieran's friends mentioned a board game that you've never heard about that supposedly had the power to âsummon demons.â
The suggestion hung in the air, Kieran laughed at the idea and laughed harder as he noticed the uncomfortable look in your face.Â
âDon't worry babe, i'll protect you~â He whispers in your ear, Reina notices you two conversing but can't hear what he told you, Her already green eyes appear even greener as she looks away enviously. The idea was met with hesitance, but with Kieran's playful persuasion, everyone reluctantly agreed to try it.
As the game commenced, Alex clutched onto your arm, his protectiveness reaching new heights. The friendly giants sends you a look of comfort. Reina, on the other hand, grew increasingly annoyed and impatient, wanting to leave this messed up party. Still, she begrudgingly stayed, unwilling to abandon her beloved in this situation.
The group followed the game's instructions, and to their shock, the room filled with an eerie energy. The lights began to flicker and in an instant it turned off, most of the room ran away screaming, not caring about the party anymore. Others began to laugh with interest and waited for what was going to happen next. a sinister figure formed in the centre of their makeshift circle. You freeze as you notice the demon (?), he is fucking terrifying but inspecting him closer the extremely tall thing is quite.. handsome? Â
A malevolent demon with smouldering eyes and a sinister grin, stood before everyone. Panic coursed through the room, and everyone, including yourself , scrambled to flee. As you attempted to escape, the demon swiftly locked the door, trapping you inside with Alex, Reina, and Kieran.
With a devilish chuckle, The demon introduced himself as Silas. The red faced man turned his attention to you. He took your chin in his hand, his touch chilling to the bone. His nails dug sharply into your skin. "You're prettier than the angels we have where I'm from" he hissed, his voice dripping with lust.
Your heart raced with fear and arousal as you looked into Silas's eyes, a shiver running down your spine. Alex and Reina attempted to interject, their voices laced with fear and anger, but Silas silenced them with a mere flick of his fingers, flooding their minds with endorphins that dulled their resistance. Kieran seemed to be less affected by whatever poison Silas had put out as he grabs Y/Ns arm towards his chest. âI don't know what the hell you are but she's mine, get in lineâ Kieran jokes, not scared of the situation at all. You send him the dirtiest look possible as Silas laughs mockingly at the playboys statement.
As the night wore on, and the party raged outside, Y/N, Alex, Reina, and Kieran were trapped with this demon who had an interest in you for some strange reason. Well, everyone in this room has some abnormal interest in you and it seems that you're quite literally trapped in a room with people who would do anything for you. Even if that means fighting a demon.
Desperation welled up in your body as you realised the dire situation that you were stuck in. "How am I supposed to leave now?" you whisper to yourself, noticing 4 gazes staring at you with different expressions but they all contained one thing, Lust.
Did Silas forget to mention that he was a succubus?
purerae<3
COMMENTS AND REBLOGS HEAVILY APPRECIATED.
#oh my god this is so long#only proof read once so sorry </3#this is rlly bad i tried writing it all in a day bcs anon submitted it on halloween but i couldnât <\3#yandere blog#purerae#yandere jock#yandere playboy#yandere demon#male yandere#yandere delinquent#yandere headcanons#female yandere#yandere#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#male yandere oc#yandere playboy x reader#yandere delinquent x reader#yandere jock x reader#yandere imagines#yandere special#alternate universe#halloween special#halloween party#reverse harem#multiple yandere x reader#female yandere x darling#male yandere x darling#yandere demon x reader
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Okay but imagine Tom Ryder falling for a fan who has ZERO and I mean zero clue on him being famous. Like he met the fan on accident and then was expecting the fan to go crazy when seeing him but the fan wasnât even interested
And heâs like so into it becuase this hasnât happened to him before!
Also female reader as the fan!!!
Tags/warnings: nothing I think.. Tom being an ass before being nice.
A/N: this was really fun to write. I'll be honest i had to keep myself from making him too much of an asshole, but i think this is pretty in character. Anywaysss tysm for your request and i hope you like itt<3
Tom Ryder has never met someone who doesn't know him. He's the biggest star of the world, everyone and their mother's knew about him. Or at least that's what he thought.
He was at his favorite coffee shop, undercover with a hat and black sunglasses. Usually he'd love the attention and praise from his fans, but today he wasn't really in the mood.
As the barista hands him his coffee order (a grande Caramel macchiato, 1/3 whole milk, 1/3 almond milk, 1/3 soy milk, 1 shot of extra espresso decaf, whipped cream and caramel drizzle on top), Ryder turns away to walk out of the shop.
Without noticing he drops his bank card which he used to pay with. You notice this while standing behind him in line and pick the card up.
"Oh, sir!" You call out as you rush after him.
Tom sighs and rolls his eyes before turning around to face the girl. "Here we go.." He mutters to himself.
"You dropped your-"
He instantly cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. "Yeah, yeah it's me I'm amazing and the hottest man you've ever seen blah blah I know.."
You stare at him for a bit while still holding onto his card. "What?"
"What do you mean what?" He looks annoyed, you're wasting his time every second that he stands there facing you.
"I found your card.. what are you talking about?" You hold the card up to show him, your face still scrunched up in confusion.
"I'm Tom Ryder. Did you honestly not recognize me?" He raises his eyebrow at you. Is this girl stupid? He thinks to himself.
"Was I supposed to?"
"Yes. Everyone does I'm Tom Ryder." He says almost baffled that you don't recognize him.
"You keep saying your name but it doesn't ring a bell." You shrug your shoulder
"Tom Ryder." He repeats once again as if saying it for the third time would help. "Action Pact franchise? Hot Earth? Bad Cop, Good Dog? Metalstorm? How about biggest moviestar of the world?" He explains to you like you're a child.
"Oh I did hear about Metalstorm. Isn't that with that actress Iggy? Was that her name? She's cool."
"What no- I mean yes she is in it, but it's my movie. I'm the lead actor." Tom says in an agitated tone. How could you not know him, everyone knows him. Yet for some reason you kept staring at him with those confused eyes. Those beautiful confused eyes..
"Right well- good for you." It's a genuine smile, it's adorable. Why are you smiling at him like that? You should be wanting to jump on him out of excitement. Tom has never felt so confused in his life.
"Don't you watch movies at all?" He questions you.
"Ofcours I do. Indie movies." You say with a soft smile on your face.
Indie movies. Right. Tom Ryder was known for big budget blockbuster films, not smallscale indie stuff. Although now that he thinks about it everything could be a blockbuster with his name attatched to it.
"Right- so my face means nothing to you?"
"I mean.. I guess it looks slightly familiar but no.. not really. Sorry." You smile apologetically.
A strange sensation washes over Tom as he realizes this girl does not care about him at all. It's oddly humbeling even for him. "No it's fine I guess, I just never met someone who isn't crazy about me."
"Well I could still do that." You chuckle and finally hand the bank card back to him. "I'll just pretend to be obsessed with you and then you can roll your eyes at me or something."
"You'd really make a fool out of yourself for me?" He raises his eyebrow at you. Sure he's used to everyone doing everything for him whenever he asks, but this felt nice, less forced than usual.
"Yeah, look." You smile and then turn your back to him. A second later you turn to face him again, your face laced with excitement.
"Oh my god, you're Tom Ryder! I've seen like all your movies and you're so cool and hot and so amazing. Can we take a picture oh and an autograph, will you marry me?!" You say acting like an obsessed fangirl that's in love with him.
"Alright alright.. I get it." He laughs, readjusting the sunglasses on his face. He was starting to like her more and more.
"Really? I can go on if you'd like. There's this whole part where I improvise your part in a movie." Yoi brush your hair back from where it had fallen in front of your face and Tom's eyes can't help but linger at every move you make.
"No it's alright." He chuckles. "But I will say you're missing out. I've won many awards ya know. I'm not just a pretty face." He says with a grin on his face, trying to impress her.
"Never said you were. Maybe I should go see your new film at the cinema then." You tease playfully.
He chuckles softly at that. The idea of you going to see his movie made him excited. He wanted to know what you'd think about the film eventhough he had just met you 5 minutes ago. Then an idea suddenly pops into his head.
"I have a better idea. How would you like to go to the premiere, hm?" He grins
A/N: Tysm for reading I hope you enjoyed it!! Comments and reblogs are so much appreciated you don't even understand. Love you guyss<3
Taglist: @earth-elemental18 @cockete @allaroundjejje (lemme know if you wanna be removed/added)
#aaron taylor johnson#aaron johnson#aaron johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson x reader#the fall guy#tom ryder#tom ryder x reader
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"Pot Liquor" Afropunk!Erik Killmonger
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Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Black Plus-Sized OC
Warning(s): 18+, Smut, Angst, Romance, Drug Use, Bisexual Characters, Threesomes, Foursomes, Queer Characters, Cursing.
Summary:
Three women. One man.
Erik âKillmongerâ Stevens is the guitar player for a female dominated Black alternative rock band fronted by the powerful larger-than-life lead singer, Oya Mason. About to perform in front of their largest audience ever on one of the most influential stages in the music world, Erik and Oya have to face band in-fighting, jealousy, drugs, sex, and the love of rock-and-roll.
Can they keep it together before their big night?
Word count: 14, 890
A..N.: Bringing this back for @blvcksundays !
"I said if I'm in luck I just might get picked up I said I'm fishin' trick and you can call it what you want then I said I'm wigglin' my fanny I want you dancing I'm a doin' it doin' it This is my night out
So all you lady haters don't be cruel to me Don't you crush my velvet don't you ruffle my feathers neither I said I'm crazy I'm Wild I said I'm nasty Say you will for a little while Say you will Say you will"
Betty Davis â"If I'm In Luck I Might Get Picked Up"
Begin at the beginning...
Eighteen-year-old Oya Mason stood in the middle of the stage of the National Poetry Slam Finals in Oakland, California ready to recite a three-minute free verse that took her two weeks to dream of and three days to write. It wasn't her best poem, but it was the most potent that she had ever written and would be reciting for the first time in public. She hated America and everything it stood for and the words swimming in her brain and marinating in cerebral spinal fluid were ready to erupt on stage.
Thick black leggings covered her dimply thick thighs that rubbed tightly together and the black Buckethead baseball t-shirt she had on accentuated her heavy breasts and generous stomach. Her toes were jammed into brand new black chucks and her nose septum piercing was a shiny silver like the frosted silver tips of her frohawk locs. She was a big beautiful Black woman with an even bigger first name to live up to. Her parents plucked the name from a book they had in their home. "Oya: In Praise of An African Goddess."
"We knew that if we had a little girl, we were going to name you that," her father, Teigen Mason, had told her.
Her Mama, Gia, squeezed out a big fat dark brown loud crying baby that grew up into a big beautiful teenager that could no longer be simply called full-figured or extra thick. No, those words were too small for her. She was a Goddess and a Goddess took up all the space she wanted. On that stage, Oya, the Goddess of the Hurricane winds, the warrior, and the protector of the dead looked out upon an eager audience of poetry spectators waiting for her to do linguistic tricks and over-enunciated theatrical emoting with her culled words.
Well...that didn't happen.
Oya Mason stood there with her Goddess frame and shrieked out every single word she had written in the depths of her gray matter and birthed her first metal song live onstage. The poem-turned-rage-clarion call was titled "To Sleep With Anger", an ode to the movie that was filmed in her grandparent's house in South Los Angeles way before she was born. She found the old Danny Glover movie online and watched it over and over until she fell asleep and dreamed of the actors walking in her family's kitchen, living room, bedrooms, and backyard, and the words to the poem came to her in the underworld of slumber and there was a burning there. A heated twisting of past and present that had her worried about her future as a big boisterous girl with a runaway mouth making it in society where Black women were expected to be quiet mules for the world.
Not her.
Oya dreamed about that old house for two weeks waking up enraged every morning and thought about what the movie meant and pondered why she was already hating a world that she was barely stepping into. It had to be ancestral rage. A fiery anger handed down like generational trauma and the unyielding hair texture on her head.
A three-day heat of writing on yellow legal pads and listening to Bad Brains and Mother's Finest while trippin' on shrooms in her bedroom while her parents were away, produced a piece of work that she could get down with.
Other poems in her extensive repertoire allowed her to advance in poetry slam rounds in local competitions and by the time she was on the National level, she was tired of the scene. The performative aspect of it seemed disingenuous. Many of the older poets she watched seemed to be interested in shocking people instead of sharing real evocative language that opened the heart and mind.
That was probably why Oya screamed her words and left the stage switching her meaty hips and not caring about her scores or if she won.
She did win that year.
The individual poet category. At her young age.
The previous winner, another full-figured Black woman with thick braids, full lips, and a body of work so blistering that she was named the Poet Laureate of her city approached her backstage.
"You don't belong here," the woman said.
Oya blinked. The fuck?
A sly smile creased the woman's glossy lips as she pointed at Oya with a commanding right index finger.
"You belong out there doing what you just did. This is too small for you," the former champion said.
Oya Mason bid adieu to poetry slams.
She returned to Los Angeles from Oakland and started a part-time job at Amoeba Records on Hollywood Boulevard. While selling records and sorting vinyl and CD bins, she met her best friend, Deidre who rocked short hair and a smooth undercut, Oya fell in love with Deidre's whole vibe instantly and they fell into creating their first band together.
To Sleep With Anger.
Oya named them that. Deidre played electric guitar just like Oya did and after work and university classes at USC, they shredded in Deidre's parent's garage in a sizeable house at the bottom of Baldwin Hills. The Black Beverly Hills. The house sat on forty-eighth and Crenshaw, so the upwardly mobile Black folks couldn't get too far away from the bustle of working class and working-poor negroes down the street. Oya's parents couldn't handle two loud Black metal chicks screaming about capitalism, death, and societal destruction right next door to the neighborhood church at their small home near Leimert Park. Deidre's house was ground zero for their start as a unit.
School. Work. Shredding.
That was life for three years until Oya had written a ton of songs that were good enough to put together a fuller and more serious band. They had both become better axe players. She and Deidre posted up an ad for a drummer and bass player at the Amoeba Community board and online, and that was how they met Shameika, a mean pocket queen originally from Long Beach who went to UCLA.
Deidre and Oya had to set aside their USC rivalry because Shameika was nasty on the skins. Their bass player, Jody, was discovered by accident when she came into Amoeba asking for Me'Shell N'degeocello vinyl. Anyone into Me'Shell had to be hip, and Oya asked the lithe light-brown beauty if she were a musician. The stars lined up. She was their missing link.
They were complete and of one accord by the time they began playing publicly at gigs around L.A. and making road trips to San Diego and also local music festivals. Shameika handled their webpage, Deidre handled booking, and Oya fell in love with Jody. Then broke up with her. Then got back together. Then broke up in one final blow-out that thankfully didn't tank the band. It did become a little awkward when Jody and Shameika became a couple, but Oya grew past it. They were picking up traction as a band. Getting better paid gigs. She was writing better songs. Blending genres. Learning to control her vocals better with a private coach. It took them awhile to be taken seriously as a band. People expected them to be an R & B singing quartet and did double takes when they walked into venues with their gear. They were tested a lot by the mainly white male audiences. Lots of booing at shows and sometimes beer bottles were thrown at them onstage. Oya was often brutally called names because of her size. She didn't know how many times she had climbed onstage to bring the noise with her girls, and there was laughter tossed her way.
"Look at this big bitch!" was a common jab along with a few expletives.
But the music shut them up. They could play fucking circles around many of the bands, even the headliners.
"It's here!" Deidre shrieked as they opened boxes for new stock.
Oya stared at the twelve-inch vinyl of a song she was hearing about on every streaming platform and alternative music chatroom. She knew the group.
Slippage.
An alternative band that she used to fuck with heavily until they started going a little too commercial and polished for her tastes. Oya did feel excitement about new music from them. She hoped they were returning to their roots of hard driving sounds and not the softened new-branding that recent major-label signed groups were morphing toward. Deidre was practically salivating, her copper brown skin glowing and matching the copper brown of her short fade.
"This dude right here...I swear, I would buss it wide open if he walked in here right now. You think the scars are real? I heard they weren't," Deidre said.
Oya picked up the album and stared at the four guys on the cover. One Mexican with long glossy raven hair. Two white guys with stringy pony tails and tats on their faces and arms. And the Black guy.
Erik Killmonger.
Gold grills. Perfect locs. Scars.
His upper body was covered in small shiny lumps of skin.
"That looks real," Oya said.
"That's hardcore. I get the tats and piercings...I mean I have that shit, but...cutting your skin like that. All over. You think he has scars on his dick?"
Oya burst out laughing.
"Only you would ask that!"
"That would be kinda sexy," Deidra whispered admiring the man's shirtless body as he held his guitar.
Deidra stroked the cover.
"He's so rude for biting his lips like that. Letting us see all that gold in his mouth," she quipped.
They stocked the store with all the new vinyl before heading to the registers to help customers purchase music. When they had a break, the assistant manager let them listen to the new Slippage single. Deidre loved it, but Oya turned her nose up at it. Killmonger sounded dope as always, but the song itself was weak. Defanged.
"We should make something like this," Deidre said bobbing her head and air playing guitar with her nimble fingers pretending to be Killmonger.
"I think the fuck not."
"This is good!"
"No it's not. It's just loud and...vanilla."
"You're buggin'. This is the best thing they've put out."
Oya stood behind the counter and watched Deidra, the assistant manager, and several customers nod their heads and give kudos to Slippage.
"Tasteless," Oya muttered as she grabbed a stack of country CDs from a young woman and began ringing up her purchases.
The music blared from their store speakers and Oya couldn't help but think about Killmonger's grill and the scars that went up and down his muscled arms, wide chest, and down his chiseled stomach...
Begin at the beginning one 'mo' 'gin...
They knew they had something special when Amoeba allowed them to play in their in-store mini-concerts when another group failed to show up because of a delayed flight from Phoenix. The four of them wore tattered jean skirts with leggings and old vintage bullet bras they found at a thrift store in Venice Beach. Oya had to add a bra extender for hers. Thick extra-large safety pins prevented the weak hooks from bending across her back and gave the right touch to the stylized look. She kept a t-shirt handy in case a titty or two broke free and slapped a customer unexpectedly, which would've been the most punk thing ever, but luckily that old 1950's find held on as she sweated her way through raw, screeching vocals that caught her boss by surprise. Hamp was forced into a bind with a store full of patrons waiting to see Desert Troll City, so he gave in when Oya said they had equipment in their cars ready to plug in and rock out. Instead of ambient new vanguard trip music, the customers were treated to ear-splitting altie sounds that tip-toed between experimental and...what? Oya and her bandmates hadn't quite found a true name for their sound, but the crowd there loved it. The music attracted spectators from off the street and it became their first viral performance online.
Hamp started acting like their musical godfather, allowing them to sell their CDs at the counter on consignment as part of their local indie musician sales program. It was a boost to their confidence watching people buy their homemade EP. Gigs followed. The new visibility started their small music festival appearances. Their biggest live performance before their second full album came out was the Joshua Tree Music Festival. The drive to the desert had been joyous. They performed before the closing night's headliner and killed it. They were so good that the headliners gave them a shoutout during their set making Oya feel like a Queen.
And like any great rock-and-roll story, it was where the first rift in the band appeared. All because Deidre felt the need to insert an unnecessary guitar adlib that threw Oya off their closing number. The audience, blitzed out on 'shrooms, weed, liquor, pills, and whatever choice narcotics they brought for fun, became mesmerized by Deidre doing Jimi Hendrix tricks on her axe. Oya could concede that Sis was in her bag at that moment, but they had always stayed in tune with one another by using eye contact and onstage whispers to let each other know if they were going to go off. Sometimes it was just a well-placed guttural sound from Oya's throat to clue the others in, or Deidre would swing her guitar a certain way with a slight chord change. J Tree organizers had the performers on a strict time allotment, and Oya knew they had to finish with a new song in just the right intro...but Deidre fucked it up by trying to upstage Oya with the ole razzle dazzle. The normal thunder growl that would erupt from Oya's diaphragm kicking in "Acid Babe Blues" was usurped by some random guitar wah wah licks from Deidre's foot pedal muting her guitar.
Oya felt the "Acid Babe Blues" lyrics dry up in her throat as her eyes cut to Deidre's. Sister girl was oozing with charismatic energy and the people ate it up. Rightfully so. Oya stood down for twenty seconds before she turned to Jody on bass with aPlease gather this bitch uplook.
Jody slapped her bass and snapped Deidre from her moment. Time ran short, so Oya had to improvise and just gave an improper snippet of the new song before their time ran out. That meant Deidre had to sing the bridge to start the song, and Oya had to fake her way into the second verse. The fierce tone she gave thrilled the music lovers, but Oya was full of piss and vinegar. "Acid Babe Blues" was their lead single from the new joint, and the audience didn't even hear the true beginning.
As the crowd switched their positions to watch the main stage for the closing act, Oya and the others packed up their gear. Her hackles were up.
"What the fuck were you doing?!" Oya snapped.
"Vibin'," Deidre said.
"You stole valuable time for 'Acid'."
"They heard you scream when you first started twenty-five minutes ago. It still sounded great without a closing field hollerâ"
"That's not the point, Deidre," Shameika interjected as she shoved her drumsticks into a case, "it threw us all off."
"Ohmigod, we murdered this gig. It's good to shake it up sometimes.Ididn't hear a mess upâ"
"It would've been nice to know what you were going to do. I'm the lead singer. I wrote that song. We all agreed that 'Acid Babe Blues' was to bring it all home and we practiced the hell out of it and you fucked it up!" Oya said,
"They loved us. That's all that matters."
Deidre did her usual lip pout when she was done discussing anything.
"I know you're feeling yourself right now, but this is becoming a habit with you," Oya barked helping Shameika break down the rest of her drum kit.
"So I can't get no shine too?"
"We all get shineâ"
"Only when you let us. Don't forget, I write a lot of the songs too. I'm on the cover of the EP too. So is Jody and Shameikaâ"
"Are you failing to understand what the problem is? Am I trippin'? I'm not talking about getting shine, I'm talking about you disrupting and switching up how we do things mid-performance without a cue or an okay from the rest of us."
Deidre pressed her lips tight. An irritated exhale followed with a roll of her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I was carried away by the energy of the crowd. I wanted to jam for a minute..."
Deidre clutched her guitar pedal to her chest.
"I wanted to be that bitch...okay? I mean, look at us. We look amazing in these little black latex dresses! We're serving hot and sexy and being all sweaty and nasty up here. Tell me you didn't feel that rush?"
"We felt it, but...teamwork," Shameika said with her soft-spoken voice.
"I'm tired," Jody said holding her bass case.
They were assisted by some J Tree staff as they loaded up their gear into Deidre's S.U.V, and Oya's Jeep Cherokee.
"Are we staying to watch the closer or what?" Shameika asked.
Jody stayed in Deidre's S.U.V. to sleep, and the rest of them sauntered back in their laced-up pit-stomping boots to watch Boredroom, a band on the brink, sing out To Sleep With Anger's praises. Deidre turned her head and smirked at Oya as the lead singer of Boredroom pointed to all their latex-wearing greatness and shouted them out on the mic.
"See?" Deidre said, "We are the shit."
"It's about the music, Deidre, not just showing off," Oya grumbled.
Oya new instinctively that Deidre wanted to be the main shit. She wrenched her eyes away from her friend and tried to engage with the rest of the festival, but there was a sour taste in her mouth. That taste would grow and root deep. Then it would spread, choking them all.
Begin at his beginning...
Oya knew how to hustle a job.
When Amoeba became less flexible for gigs, she took a job at KCRW assisting the COO. On Saturday nights she worked the cashier booth for a trashy West Hollywood dance club to supplement her income.
Those were rough days for To Sleep With Anger ever since Deidre left for a high-profile band's line-up switch the year before. It was right after a showcase with an East Coast label. They were all broke, still hungry to make their own music, and lucked out when an A & R rep from Sony Music Group caught their live show at the Austin Music Festival.
Hair cut into a short bob that she slicked up to look like a match flame, dramatic make-up, and low-cut tight dresses with oversized coats that doubled as capes became a signature look for Oya. Her shoe game grew sick, with custom thigh-high boots, and walking canes to match her seductive stroll onstage. Their band logo was a black flame with red highlights. Her signature do always matched the logo onstage, and it became an instant hook with their audience. Sophisticated Punk. Seductive Alternative. Oya leaned into the sensual side and the other women found their looks too. Deidre became pure femme fatale, Jody, the edgy stud, and Shameika was their darling Goth ingĂŠnue.
Oya's lush body became the center of think pieces in the music scene and she welcomed the coverage and even took the hits with some women musicians who questioned the overt sexuality of the band. Were they sex kittens, or hard rockers? Cock teases for a gimmicky come up? A flash in the pan for some future music history footnote? She ignored them and the other women did too. Her favorite moments were to stroll onstage after Jody plucked the bass like a beast sporting her flamboyant capes and big hats and do a twirl wielding her cane before dropping the cape to the floor revealing couture that accentuated breasts, flared hips, thick thighs, and a rump to die for. The more popular they became the more she found herself amazed at how people projected onto her. She rarely showed any explicit skin other than the tops of her breasts with dep cleavage, but the audacity of her being her bold self with tight clothing was a problem for so many people. But a revelation to others.
Especially men.
Often teased for not having a body that conformed to whatever was in fashion at the moment, that quickly changed when she sang. Her voice shifted the critiques. People had to listen to the music because it was fucking divine. Oya's talent made people notice she had a face. A gorgeous one. And that face was attached to a stunning big body. Online chatter brought out the lovers of her plus-size physique, especially when she catwalked up and down a stage and pointed her cane at the audience, then stuck it in front of her as she wiggled down and back up from the floor with it. There was a shift in the air. The thirst for her was just as great as her other bandmates.
They were on the cusp of reaching greatness and Oya was going damn near bankrupt funding her on stage style to create her visual greatness. They all were.
The Sony Rep schmoozed them and set up the showcase for the "Yes Men". Oya could taste victory, money, fame, freedom...
The showcase was a disaster.
Not because Oya didn't incinerate the Sony office with her talent or the girls didn't bring it with their playing. The Yes Men wanted Deidre to front the band and insisted on smoothing out their rough sound. Less edge. More mainstream puff rock. Less 90s Trent Reznor-esque proto Black Girl Rock/Metal and more old school Gwen Stefani cutesy kitsch.
Oya put her foot down. Get set aside because they found Deidre the more marketable? She didn't have the voice. She didn't have the vocal chops to strike people down from the stage like Oya did every time they performed. To Sleep With Anger laid out the roots of Betty Davis, Bad Brains, A Band Called Death, tastefully gave homage to Tina Bell, Mother's Finest, plus a smidgeon of early Prince with the heavy guitar opening of "Bambi" that Oya played herself, and all they could mention was Nine Inch Nails and No Doubt?
They weren't signed.
Deidre left them.
Six months later Deidre was on tour and became a media sensation by joining Ark Ten. They were top tier. Grammy winners. Global fanbase. English darlings credited with reviving the UK rock scene. Deidre joined them right when they went in to record a second studio album. An all-male band that fired their lead guitarist, Ark Ten recruited Deidre to become the new focal point of hyped publicity for the group's sophomore outing. She looked like a High Rock Glam Priestess on their magazine photo spreads. Their album went triple platinum within months as Oya took credit cards and damp dollar bills at a cashier's booth while listening to her ex-bandmate's overdone guitar flourishes in songs at her crappy club job.
Shameika and Jody moved in with her in an upstairs apartment near Slauson. They turned the small dining room into a second bedroom and pooled their resources to perform where they could. Oya wrote new songs and just as Deidre predicted, Shameika and Jody followed her lead without pushback.
After a long day in Santa Monica, Oya walked into their kitchen and made an announcement.
"We're going to audition a new guitar player. We need a fourth member. I'm better at singing and not playing at the same time."
Jody fried up some sliced potatoes and onions at the stove. Shameika washed dishes.
"Another woman?" Shameika asked.
"Black?" Jody added.
"Let's just put the call out and see who shows up. I have a hook up for a try-out space next week. There's a music studio moving to another location in Santa Monica. KCRW used it for live shows and one of my co-workers has access to it for a Saturday before they leave. We can sneak in and use it for four hours. Six to ten at night."
"But you're great on guitar," Shameika lamented.
"I can't do all my theatrics if I'm playing the whole time too. It's too difficult. Plus, it's part of our brand. Jody?"
Jody set down the spatula in her hand and turned down the fire under the food.
"I want another Black woman," Jody said.
"But if we can't find one?"
"Hold another audition?" Shameika suggested.
"In time for Afropunk?"
"We can do a stripped-down show. Jeans, tees, and chucks."
Oya put hands on her hips and closed her eyes.
"No, we go full out. We need this moment more than ever. We have to look ready-made."
Shameika stopped stacking plates in the drainer.
"You don't think we'll ever make it big, huh?" "It's not just making it big...it's our music... we could change the game. I'm tired of us struggling and trying to be creative. I'm tired of us eating potatoes and spaghetti all the time."
"We'll make it," Shameika said.
"I'm tired,"
Oya let her arms drop to her sides. Jody pulled her in for a hug and Oya buried her face in the woman's neck and wept.
"I'm tired of seeing her out there...winning," Oya huffed.
"We'll do the audition. We'll make it work," Jody said.
Her fingers trailed up Oya's face and wiped away her smeared eye make-up. Shameika joined them and threw her arms around Oya's waist.
"Look at me blubbering like some loser. We're not losers."
"No, we're not," Jody said.
Her lips touched Oya's cheek and the loving pats from Shameika made her feel tons better. She broke away from the two of them.
"Just a tiny woe-is-me moment and now we'll get this new axe. Right?"
Jody and Shameika nodded sharing gentle smiles with her.
"We're too talented," Oya said taking up the spatula and turning over the potatoes for Jody.
She kept that mantra up as they sat inside the borrowed music studio a week later watching woman after woman jam with them. Oya watched Jody's weary face as she cradled her bass and studied a new guitar player plug in and prepare to audition. Shameika twirled one of her drumsticks in her left hand and gave Oya an encouraging wink, but the sentiment didn't help. After two hours, they hadn't found one musician who felt right. Benji, Oya's co-worker, sat next to her on plush red couch. There was a small line of women taking up the sidewalk outside waiting to come in and it gave Oya a headache.
"Give me a minute," Oya said, "I have to pee."
In the restroom, she splashed water on her face to hide the tears that threatened to drop.
"Please..." she whispered as she rinsed her hands and dried them.
Oya stared at her face in the mirror.
"Go back out there with your game face. Our new guitarist is coming. She is going to walk in and wow everybody. The band will be whole once more. We'll go to Atlanta and the record deal will come. We'll bring the heat. We'll bring the bodacious Blackness. Deidre won't be the only success story."
Oya walked back into the studio and nearly shit in her cargo pants.
Benji stood chopping it up with Erik Killmonger.
Killmonger wore dark shades, but Oya recognized the braided locs, the scars on his skin shown by his sleeveless white t-shirt, and the gold slugs in his mouth. He was bigger in person than what she imagined. Her eyes glanced over to Jody and Shameika and they were equally starstruck along with the white woman with tattered dreads waiting to audition.
"Oya, this is my old buddy, Killmonger. Killmonger, Oya. Lead singerâ"
Oya did a one-eighty and hot-footed back to the restroom. She pressed her back against the door. Her breath sped up and she couldn't stop hyperventilating. Leaning forward to lower her head to her knees, she squinted her eyes and blew out long streams of air.
"Fuck."
Clenching her fists, Oya patted her hands up her thighs until she stood upright.
"Fuck."
She went back out to the studio area and threw her shoulders back.
"I thought I left the water running in the sink," she lied.
Killmonger sat on the couch next to Benji. Oya avoided contact to help keep her voice steady and non-chalant.
"Oh. Well, I'm sure you know who Killmonger plays forâ"
"Played for," Killmonger corrected.
Oya felt a tickle in her stomach. His scratchy voice had a rasp to it like he'd been smoking before he came in. He probably toked a good expensive strain that rich people smoked. They always had memes of him up every Four Twenty with kush sitting on his guitar. The shades were off and his bright brown eyes planted themselves on her face.
Played for?
"You're not with Slippage anymore?" the white woman asked.
Nosey.
Killmonger's eyes cut to her and the woman shrank into her guitar.
"How 'bout you play and mind ya business," he said.
Oya took her seat and stared at Jody. She mouthed the words "Play" to her homie, and Jody slid her index and middle finger down the neck of the bass to begin "Palo Alto", a song they liked using to test the guitarists. It had several difficult chord progressions and they wouldn't have to waste time seeing if a person could really play or not. The woman, Heather, got halfway through the song before they knew she wouldn't cut it. Deidre and Oya could slide through the song like butter. Even Jody could fake her way through it when she played around with Oya's guitar.
They allowed Heather to play another tune and jam for a minute before Oya took to the mic and sang a bit with the entire ensemble. They sent her away after asking a few personal questions about her background. When she left, Oya ran her hand over her hair. Jody adjusted the volume knob on her bass and Shameika tapped her sticks lightly on her ride cymbal. No words were needed to veto Heather. A statuesque Black woman came in next with a bright smile and high energy, and they all perked up, but she wasn't able to improvise all that well as they jammed together. Another no. They had an hour left and only two candidates had viable potential from the fifteen women they saw from the first three rounds. Oya was happy she pre-screened so many musicians online ahead of time. They were efficient and knew what they were looking for. The only problem was, no one fit.
They had a fifteen-minute break slotted before the last three candidates scheduled would come in. Benji gave Oya a supportive grin.
"Don't throw in the towel yet, Oya," he said shaking his ginger curls.
Killmonger stood up and walked over to their set up. He moved like king. She tamped down on the squeal in her throat fighting to come out.
"I can't believe Killmonger is in the same room with us!" Shameika blurted.
Thank God. Someone finally said it out loud. Jody and Oya laughed with relief.
"He ain't nobody," Benji said punching Killmonger in the arm.
"How do you know each other?" Oya asked keeping her eyes off of Killmonger.
"Before he was a big head star, Killmonger used to nag me to play his shit on KCRW years ago. We used to sweep up this place together as interns."
Killmonger glanced around.
"The place is a little different from when I worked here. Didn't last long though."
"Slippage?" Oya asked.
Dark orbs captured her gaze.
"Yeah."
"But you said something about not being with them earlier."
Benji stepped in.
"News is just now getting out," Benji said hitching his shoulders.
"Can I?" Killmonger asked pointing to Oya's guitar.
She stepped away from it and he lifted it off of the stand near her and draped the strap around his body hooking it to the instrument after adjusting the leather. It only took him two seconds to launch into "Acid Babe Blues" and Shameika brought in the drums automatically. Jody slapped her bass and they played for two minutes before Oya felt brave enough to jump in and sing.
Killmonger knew their song. By heart.
He stood in the middle of the recording studio slaying Oya's electric guitar and ripped into a blistering riff that made her jump and lose her shit in front of her desperate band.
"Give it to me from the top!" he yelled.
His fingers thrummed out the beginning again, and Oya gave a Black rebel yell,
"Show me someone not full of herself, and I'll show you a hungry person!"*
They tore through the song with Killmonger's lips peeled back to show glints of gold as he howled encouragement with whoops and loud shouts to them.
"C'mon Jody, dig into that bottom!" he called out.
Jody let her thumb do the most as Oya felt the vibration of Shameika sitting in her pocket on the drums from behind as she followed Jody's dip into a groove that Killmonger supported with tasteful licks from his fingers. They jammed for twenty minutes until Oya noticed their next band candidate standing wide-eyed and mouth agape staring at Killmonger.
"Sorry," Killmonger said unhooking himself from Oya's guitar.
They finished seeing the last three women and sat down on the floor together in a circle to discuss what they liked and didn't like. There were three women they agreed to call back for another try out just to be sure.
"We have to lock one in fast. Get them set with our music and stage cues," Oya said picking at her nails.
"When's your next performance?" Killmonger asked.
The three women glanced over at him on the couch. Benji had his arms folded watching them too.
"End of the month. Atlanta," Oya said.
"Afropunk?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Let me play for you."
Oya thought her lungs would implode in her chest right behind her heart.
"I'm not doing anything. I quit Slippage. I like your sound. Benji says you want more festival exposure. If I play with you, you'll get that."
"That would be a boss move...but..." Oya's brain grew dizzy.
"But what?"
"People would want you. Not us," Jody said.
"Then hire me. Let me join the band."
Benji chuckled but then he shut up when he realized Killmonger wasn't joking.
"Why?" Oya asked.
"I like your sound. Your style. I quit Slippage because it's tired. I outgrew it. Y'all got something fresh...different. Sticks to my ribs."
"People would just think it's your band," Oya said.
"How's that?"
"Your famous. You'd overshadow us."
"Did I overshadow Slippage?"
"You were Slippage," Jody mumbled under her breath.
Oya reached over and tugged on one of Jody's long straight backs. Jody slapped Oya's hand away from her hair. Killmonger chuckled.
"You have a strong personality," Oya said.
"Benji told me to come here to give you some tips. The best thing for you is to let me become part of To Sleep With Anger. You don't even have to pay me cuz you know I'm set. I just want to play pure music that's slowly becoming its own thing. I miss that."
"Will you dump us when you get bored?" Shameika asked.
Shameika tilted her head and the purple tips of her hair on the left side of her head touched her stomach. The right side was shaved with one long tuft left on the temple that was beaded with cowrie shells. When Killmonger's eyes landed on her, Shameika's top teeth tugged on her bottom lip making her lip ring more visible.
"Who would get bored with you, Princess?" he said.
Oya caught the territorial glare from Jody, but Killmonger's smoldering drag across Jody's lean athletic form made her flustered and forget the man was flirting with her woman. He flirted with Jody openly too. Dropping his body on the floor next to them all, he held out his hands.
"Let me come to Atlanta and play. Just as a featured guest. We can talk about permanent stuff after."
"You do sound good with us," Shameika said.
Killmonger pointed to her.
"See? Taste."
Oya's heart pounded in her chest from being next to him. She could smell his light cologne and the hair oil he used for his air. The scent of roses and pumpkin spice lingered near him. Moisture left her mouth and everything tasted like cotton. A miracle walked into their audition and served himself up for their use. Oya glanced over at Jody and Shameika. They were just as gone as she was by what was being offered. She swallowed dust and thought of Deidre. Ark Ten was a smart move for her career, but what she would never have was the baddest guitarist around who left an exceptionally better band, and wanted to play for them. But knowing Deidre, she would be flattered to be replaced by someone like Killmonger. Oya ground her molars and pushed her fingers into her thighs. Her cargo pants pocket vibrated. The cell alarm went off. Their time in the studio was up. It was now or never.
"What do you think?" she asked the others.
Shameika held a thumb up and they all saw her sultry eyes turn gooey staring at Killmonger.
"He makes us hustle and I like that," Jody said. Her forehead creased.
Oya gave her a curious look when she took forever giving her answer.
"Me and Shameika are together," Jody finally said.
"That's not a yes or a no," Killmonger said.
"I see how you are and I want you to know the dynamics," Jody said pursing her lips.
"That's your lady, aight beautiful, cool...so am I in?"
Shameika lowered her eyes and Oya felt second-hand embarrassment watching the jockeying for the drummer's attention.
"What's your vote Oya?" Jody asked.
Those magnetic eyes of Killmonger's became daggers on her skin and Oya couldn't shake the arousal affecting her decision-making. He pushed them into excellence with just one jam session. Imagine what they could glean from him with full rehearsals?
She raised a thumb, and Shameika squealed. He wrenched his eyes away from Oya.
"Jody?" he asked. His voice was a raspy assertion. Answer him.
Oya saw the attraction Jody had for the man too. They all were drenched in it. Carnal danger oozed from his pores.
"Okay...yes," she said.
Killmonger clapped his hands and jumped up from their circle on the floor.
"We rehearse at our place in the mornings when our neighbors are at work," Oya said shifting her body to stand up. Her foot fell asleep and she shook out her leg to get the circulation moving.
He took out his phone and they all exchanged numbers.
"I'll bring my stuff at nine if that's cool," he said.
"Yeah," Oya said.
She was almost his height. There was a gleam in his eye as he flashed them all big white perfect teeth and four gold slugs. Two at the top and two at the bottom. His scars were real and if she didn't know him a little better from hanging with him that night, the man could come off menacing. He took up so much space.
Oya threw back her shoulders again.
So did she.
Begin at their beginning...
Afropunk brought two things to fruition.
To Sleep With Anger became that bitch and Deidre felt the heat.
They didn't announce that Killmonger was with them. Flying into Atlanta with hours of tight rehearsals behind them brought them to a different level of being. He was a task master, but he made sure they were in control. Over four weeks Oya saw how he could influence them without it being obvious manipulation. Helping them improve their songwriting, playing, and bolstering their confidence to challenge themselves was something she came to love about him. Oya fell for him quietly and in secret, and unlike his first time meeting them, all flirtations vanished. He was about the music twenty-four seven. She wrote several songs with him at his home studio in Silverlake, and he even helped Shameika compose her first solo creation. It was a cold ass song and Oya wanted them to open with it. Shameika burst into tears when Oya said that and Killmonger gave their sweet Goth girl a hug and encouraged her to write more and take chances with her lyrics.
They left the stage itself in shambles after their quick set. It was like they took a grenade, pulled the pin, tossed it, and made sure the destruction was complete before their exit. No one wanted to follow them after that performance. The shock of Killmonger leaving Slippage hadn't fully been processed before the world saw him on a smaller stage obliterating all competition around them in Atlanta.
Shameika beat out a master class of percussion before Jody sank her teeth into the bass ushering in the deadly claws of Killmonger's fingers making his guitar roar as Oya stalked out from behind him. The moment the audience saw him, shocked gasps rippled out and then she pounced on them all, lacing her voice around Shameika's lyrics throughout the soundscape they weaved for the audience. Her signature flame upswept do became the rage after their first performance as a re-grouped band. The biggest surprise was that Killmonger didn't steal their thunder. He harnessed it and threw it out for the world to accept as a class act worthy of recognition. They trended on social media. Deidre and Ark Ten had been number one for two hours because of their new Coachella line-up announcement. To Sleep With Anger knocked them out of the top ten trending topics soon after. Pictures of their Afropunk performance were shared all over. Oya couldn't help but float and feel hopeful.
The man made her feel reckless and powerful onstage. Their styles meshed and the thrill of prancing around and growling at him with throaty moans while he jerked that guitar around her shirtless like he was working his manhood made her invincible. He underplayed his position as mega star to allow them all the shine. He got off on it. Flirted heavily with all of them while he worked the stage. Oya threw him solos but he would bring in Jody, opening her up to the point where she was dancing around the stage which was something she rarely did that fiercely.
The fans loved Shameika's song and they played it again at the end for their encore. Their short set grew longer because of Killmonger and he pushed it. Shameika broke one of her sticks by the end and it was the omen of more good things to come.
Standing there with applause washing over them, Oya looked over at Killmonger. His eyes were slightly hooded. He was faded in a good way and she was too. They shared a joint before hitting the stage and she watched him make smoke offerings to someone named Bast. Oya gave a final bow and Killmonger leaned over covering her mouth with his lips. The crowd roared and she reached over with fresh acrylic black nails to scratch the scars on his nude shoulder. He bowed down to her like she was a queen and the audience lost it again.
"Let 'em see you, O," he crooned in her ear.
Oya swung her wide hips to the left and right of the stage with her black wolf's head cane in her hand. Her black laced combat boots matched the black mesh drawstring skirt and tank she wore with a short-waisted red bolero jacket. Their black flame logo was emblazoned on the back in satin emboidery. She sauntered over to Jody and Shameika who were shy about prancing around, but they basked in the sea of applause. Oya pulled them next to her so they could get their due.
Taking the mic from her hand, Killmonger stepped to the center edge of the stage.
"You're looking at three of the baddest musicians to come out of L.A. It's a privilege to play for them. Don't fuck around and miss out on this moment. Follow them. Support them. Snatch their EP at the merch table before it become a collector's item and you can't afford it. Take plenty of pictures so you can say you were there before they blow up. Give more love to Oya, Jody, and Shameika...To Sleep With Anger!"
Offstage they were mobbed by people trying to talk to them and get pictures. Killmonger was adamant that he took no solo pictures with fans. It was the group or nothing. That didn't stop people sneaking shots of him sipping on juice or talking to people. Security had to help them when the reality of his status went into warp drive. They had to have more security with them for the rest of the event.
Gracious, accommodating, protective, and a total fanboy, Killmonger acted as their professional handler. His personal bodyguard, Tyson, was a bruising giant that suffered no fools when it came to his boss. If Killmonger felt a fan was being rude to them, he sent Tyson after them. By the end of the festival night, Oya was exhausted by the lack of respect fans had for the personal space of huge stars. Oya wanted the same accolades, but the rudeness was astounding. So used to being ignored, or looked over, she adjusted to it quickly until a male onlooker reached out and squeezed her ass cheek near a speaker as she watched a headliner from Canada. She shoved the man and his weed-laced eyes narrowed. His lips became a snarl when he realized she wasn't interested in his tasteless unwanted sexual advances.
"You should feel lucky, bitch!" he spat.
A fist sliced across her peripheral and the next thing she knew, the man's face was punched in one direction while two of his teeth flew in the opposite. A crowd of male fans snatched him up and carried him off while Killmonger stalked after them cursing him out. Tyson pulled Killmonger back but he jerked away from his grasp. A random girl with long pink braids picked up the teeth with a napkin and ran after the owner of them.
"Shit!" Oya finally exclaimed. Killmonger only needed a bodyguard to protect fans from his fists.
Jody and Shameika were stunned and the crowd stood back from them when Killmonger returned.
"You alright, O?"
"Yeah."
He shook his head as Tyson made a wide berth for them to continue their evening.
"I've had my ass slapped, my dick grabbed, kisses placed on me without my consent..."
Killmonger's eyes looked them over before giving them a dimpled grin.
"See what you have to look forward to?" he told them with flashing gold teeth and drying blood on his fist.
On the way to Coachella and uneasy alliances...
Oya carried bags of Chinese food and soda to the apartment. She had to carry four bags carefully by herself because no one answered their cell to come help her. Climbing up the stairs and fumbling with keys, she entered the apartment hearing music, and smelling frankincense incense, weed, and burning vanilla-scented candles. The room divider from the living room to the dining room was up and Oya saw shapes moving behind the shadows of flickering light. Jody and Shameika were at it on their bed. They probably thought Oya was going to take a long time picking up food, however, she called ahead for once.
She ducked into the other doorway that led to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. Clearly there was no rush to eat. Oya needed time to shower. Turning her head, the flimsy curtain they used to separate the kitchen from the dining room was parted and Oya could see Shameika on her back with Killmonger on top of her.
The hell?
She froze.
This was the fucked up shit that killed bands throughout history. Illicit sexual liasons...
Wayment.
Jody's fingers slid down from behind Killmonger's back and pinched his nipples. He turned his head to the side and they shared tongue kisses. Oya watched the man pull out his dick from Shameika, and dear God, he threw Jody down onto her hands and knees and plunged his sheathed thickness into her from behind. She watched him turn Jody into a quivering mess on her bed while he pulled on her hair. Shameika bent down and licked her tongue from the middle of his chest up to the side of his neck.
"Bounce on it," he whispered to Jody and she threw her ass back on him while Killlmonger
slipped fingers inside of Shameika's pussy. Oya could hear the squelching wetness and the woman's whimpers twisted around Killmonger's groans.
"Oooh, fuck!" he roared as Jody gave it her all.
Jody pulled off of his length and flipped over allowing Shameika to fall against her with her legs up in the air. Killmonger sank into her as Jody played with her peach-sized breasts and anchored her girlfriend's body for him. Their eyes stayed on that man's dick as it plowed deep and hard.
"Fuck me...Killmonger...!" Shameika was losing it.
"Shit," he yelped biting his lip as he hunched over her.
He was deep in her guts now and the thrashing she did under him made Killmonger double down on the snaking of his hips. Her arms flew back and Jody cradled them, sucking on Shameika's fingers before Killmonger pulled out again. Both women scrambled to get at his mouth for kisses and he held them both close to him as he fondled both their asses with greedy hands.
Oya slipped out of the kitchen and heard more movement. She wondered what position they were in now before jealousy seeped into her heart. She closed her bedroom door and sat on her cold bed in the dark. It was sad to think of how long it had been since she had sex with anyone. She didn't count the clumsy attempts of a man trying to fingerfuck her the previous year at a party, or even the coat check girl at her job. They were unconsummated misadventures.
She had no clue the three of them were fuck bodies. Killmonger kept sexual energy on stage and in their real life he was a gentleman guitarist coaxing the best out of them for work only. It was obvious Shameika had a big crush on him, but they all just settled into a mentor Rock-God relationship with him. He was playful during downtime, bossy during rehearsals, and flirty for shows.
"Cum in my mouth!" he shouted
His voice roared through the door and Oya pulled a pillow over her face and screamed. They were getting all that sculpted body. All that dick. All that mouth. Kicking her feet, Oya threw her pillow across the bed. Fuck 'em.
She turned on the lights and prepared to take a shower, not even bothering to keep quiet. They kept being loud even as she went into the bathroom and took a long shower.
Twenty minutes later she could hear their bed still rocking and rolling. Bitches!
Hunger trumped all and she made a ton of noise going back into the kitchen to fix a plate for herself. Dumping fried shrimp rice and walnut chicken on a paper plate, she yanked open the fridge to get a can of Pepsi.
Jody tumbled into the kitchen and washed her hands at the sink. She was fully dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and Oya could tell she was pretending that nothing had went on in the next room. She also wouldn't look Oya in the eye. Whatever.
Oya padded into the living room with her plate and drink and found Killmonger on their couch watching TV.
"Sup?" he said ogling her plate.
The shower went on again and Oya assumed it was Shameika in the bathroom. Jody walked out of the kitchen with two plates. She handed one to Killmonger who took it with gratitude as he tucked in with a fork.
"I would've gotten some egg rolls had I known you were coming over," Oya said with a little bite in voice.
"No worries. I just popped over."
"Yeah. I heard."
Jody's eyes almost fell out of her head. Pressure began to build behind her neck and Oya tried to eat her food next to Killmonger on the couch, but she barely tasted it. When Shameika came into the room with a small plate, Oya couldn't hold back.
"Is this going to be a regular thing?"
"What?" Killmonger said.
"Nigga, don't play dumb. You're fucking two of my bandmates. I'm really not trying to have no bullshit when it blows up in your faces."
Shameika's lip trembled. Jody studied the paint on the wall.
"It's none of your business what we do," he said poking out his full lips.
Oya knocked his food out of his hand.
"Oya...fuck..." he grumbled picking up the mess all over the floor.
Shameika jumped up to clean it and Oya shoved her back.
"Let him pick it up since he's trying to create a mess."
Oya's jaws clenched and she stood up to tower over him while he cleaned. He jumped up to face her.
"If you want some dick too, just say so. We don't need all the dramatics to get my attention."
"You think I wanna fuck you?"
"Every time you see me you want to."
"You said you wanted to see us win. This threesome will interfere with the work."
"Yeah...you wanna fuck."
"Killmonger, stop," Shameika said.
"Kill-monger, stahpppp," Oya said mimicking Shameika's mousy voice.
"Don't do that," Jody said stepping to Oya.
"Whatchu do? Let her fuck him so you wouldn't lose her?"
"Fuck you, Oya!" Jody shouted pushing her in the chest.
Oya pushed back and Killmonger stood between them.
"You are such a weak little pussy!" Oya shouted as the rage surged through her body.
Shameika ran to her bedroom and Jody followed after her.
"Weak bitches," Oya shouted to them.
A shock of pain blasted up her arm as Killmonger grabbed it and pulled her toward her bedroom. He opened the door and shoved her inside flicking on the lights and slamming the door behind him.
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"Why are you fucking them?"
"Why is it your business?"
"The band is my business. You fucking up my business."
"What I do with them is between me and themâ" "How long has it been going on?"
Killmonger rolled his eyes and she couldn't help but stare at his teeth and the locs flopping in his eyes. His blood was up and the look on his face was mean and it turned her on. She wanted to punch him and kiss him, but if she did that, it would only prove that she did want to fuck him and was angry that her friends got to him first. Wasn't she good enough? He was always gassing her up as the Queen Bee but he settled for drones...
Oya closed her eyes.
That was cruel. Jody and Shameika were her girls. Her sisters. She was acting like Deidre. Thinking she was better than all the rest. Fuck. Maybe Deidre was.
Oya flopped down on her bed.
"I'm sorry," she said.
His eyes were still tight, but he uncrossed his arms.
"What's going on?"
"I don't like being left out."
"Left out of what?"
"Inner circles. I thought we were a team...I feel left out."
"Because of sex?"
"No...yeah...I dunno. I'm stressed...Coachella is coming..."
Killmonger sat next to her and threaded his fingers in hers.
"Coachella is big for you guys, but it's just a music festival. Like all the others you've played before."
"Easy for you to say. We only got there because of you."
"So."
"People are saying that's the only reason we were invited to play."
"So."
Oya shook her head and he squeezed her hand.
"If you're scared because Ark Ten is playing just say that."
"I'm not scared of Ark Ten."
"Deidre then."
"She's a star."
"You're a star. You, Shameika and Jody."
"This has to be the best performance of our life, and I want to show her up. I want her to regret leaving usâ"
"She's living rent free in your head and not even thinking about you. We had three dudes jump ship on Slippage before we even signed with Warner. Shit, I wasn't even in the original line-up. People leave when opportunities open up for them. Deidre is where she's supposed to be. I'm where I'm supposed to be. So are you. This is your come up, O. Enjoy it. Stop worrying about Deidre and stop worrying about my dick."
She punched his arm and he kissed her cheek.
"You stink," she said wiping his kiss off of her skin.
"I smell like good pussy."
"Please don't play with them."
"We're having fun."
"You're having fun. They are in a serious relationship."
"I hear you, okay?"
Killmonger released her hand and left the room to shower and clean up. Oya meandered into the kitchen then knocked on the wall near the curtain divider.
"What?" Jody called out.
"It's me. I want to apologize. Can I come in?"
There was no answer.
"Jody? Shameika?"
Jody pulled the curtain aside. Her face was contorted with anger. Oya saw Shameika on the bed bundled up under the sheet, her eyes wet and puffy from crying.
"I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to talk to you both like that. I don't want this thing you have with him to blow up in our faces. Shameika, sorry for teasing you...I was...jealous."
Shameika cut her eyes and Jody crawled onto the bed and put her arms around her. They both ignored her.
"Sorry," she said again and left them alone.
Oya went to her room and broke out her weed pipe and smoked alone on her bed. With her bedroom door open she saw Killmonger walk out wrapped in a towel brushing his teeth.
"I stole a toothbrush from the pack under the sink," he said.
Oya shrugged and he ducked back into the bathroom to rinse his mouth. He returned fully dressed and barefoot. He grabbed the pipe and lighter from her and took a few puffs and cooled out on her bed.
"They are pissed at me," she grumbled.
"You were foul."
"I know. I apologized."
They smoked and the high was easy. Languid. She fell back on her back and stared at the ceiling. Killmonger curled around her and threw an arm across her stomach.
"I wrote a new song," she said.
"Lemme hear it."
She giggled.
"I'm high and my lips are rubbery right now."
Killmonger licked her face and it felt like warm velour caressing her skin.
"Sing it to me."
He nuzzled his face in her neck and kissed her there.
"You ain't slick," she said moving her neck from him.
"What?"
"Tryna get in my panties too right now because I'm floatin'."
"I would never do that. My dick is tired anyway. They had my shit spittin',"
"Oh God, TMI."
"I couldn't get it up if I wanted too. Give me the song."
"Hmmm..."
"It sucks."
"Shut up!"
She slapped his cheek and he cradled her hand and kissed her palm. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers.
"Sing," he said.
Oya closed her eyes and thought of the yellow legal pad she wrote the newest song on. The words floated above the paper as the melody danced around her ears.
"There is no place for a soft Black woman... there is no smile green enough or summertime words warm enough to allow my growth...and in my head...I see my history standing like a shy child...and I chant lullabies...as I ride my past on horseback...tasting the thirst of yesterday tribes..."*
The words flowed from her lips and Killmonger caressed her hip as he listened to her. He gave her suggestions for word changes when she was finished, and they moved from the bedroom to the living room to work out the song with her electric guitar. He played her instrument while she sang to him. Shameika and Jody emerged from their bedroom to listen and after a few more word changes they joined in on bass and drums that sat ready in the room all the time. They jammed, worked out a decent intro with the drums and Killmonger shoehorned a bass-heavy bridge that added a full body sound to the lyrics. Oya felt the sexual tension between the four of them. It was thick and undeniable. They were all drenched in sweat by the time they had a complete arrangement that worked well.
"We should close with this," Killmonger suggested.
Oya glanced over at Jody and Shameika.
"What do you think?" she asked them.
Jody shrugged and Shameika stared at Killmonger.
"You like it Shameika. I can hear it in your drums," Killmonger said.
Shameika's foot tapped on the floor. Killmonger stood Oya's guitar on a stand and he walked over to Shameika and pulled her up to her feet. He blocked their view of her as he talked softly with her. Oya left the room to grab a bottled water and when she returned, Killmonger had his lips on Shameika and she had her arms around his neck. Jody stood with her arms resting on her bass watching them.
"You good," Killmonger asked.
Shameika nodded her head and Killmonger went to Jody and gave her a hug.
"Team, right?" he asked Jody.
Jody twisted her lips and Killmonger grabbed her chin and tilted it up toward him.
"Jody?"
"Yeah. We're a team."
Killmonger pressed his mouth on Jody and she gave in. His hand squeezed her left butt cheek and she swatted his chest with a laugh in her throat. Fiery eyes raked over Oya's form as Killmonger strode over to her.
"I'm not leaving you out," he said.
His mouth devoured hers overwhelming her with the pressure of his large tongue sweeping around her teeth and making her own tongue submit to his will. A trembling in her thighs commenced, and she grew bolder as she pressed her body into his. Whatever he said about his dick not being able to rise to the occasion again was a blatant lie because the hardness she felt pressing against her mound had her panties damp. His arm slipped around her waist and he walked her backward a few inches before he let go of her lips. He reached for his shirt and took it off allowing the hard slick scars all over his chest excite her even more.
No words were spoken as he forced her back into her bedroom and undressed her. He groaned when her breasts were freed from her bra, and she moaned as his thick fingers pulled off her underwear revealing a glistening prize for his mouth. He ate her out on the edge of her bed, pushing her thighs back so that he could smear her juices all over his face. He licked her folds until she was clawing her bed. Sucking on her clit made her cry out and she knew Jody and Shameika heard her.
Killmonger stood up before she could release again and she watched him fetch a condom from his wallet and roll it down his turgid erection.
"You gon' play nice?"
"Huh?"
Breath was cut from her throat as he sank into her. He threaded his fingers in her hair and locked her body down good and tight. Hard thrusts made her pussy clench around his pipe. He brought his face close to hers and the gold in his teeth looked sharp and threatening.
"I'm giving you this dick, but you better place nice with the other girls from now on!" he growled in her ear.
Oya lifted up so she could see his dick beating up her walls. The aggression of his fucking made it hard to breathe. His hips swiveled and hit another part of her pussy that she wasn't expecting and she clawed his back. The scars on his body rubbed extra sensations into her needy skin and she whimpered into his shoulder to keep her bandmates from hearing, but the dick was so good that she was panting his name every time he sank back into her.
"Be a good girl, alright? Don't be jealous..."
"Killmonger!"
He palmed as much of her breasts as he could and forced her back to arch just to catch all the length he was throwing into her fast. She took the pounding gratefully.
"I'll be good! I'll be good...ooh shit! I'll be good...fuck!"
She went cockeyed trying to match his pace and gave up when he was balls deep and making her toes bunch up. His teeth tugged on her nipples and she took that moment to breathe deep and catch her bearings.
"Turn around!"
Killmonger stepped back from her and his heavy dick bobbed with her shiny slickness all over the condom. She dropped her legs down to the floor and shifted her body so that she faced the bed. Before she had a chance to position herself, he had his hand on the back of her neck pushing her down. Her ass jiggled as he thrust into her again, and she gripped the blanket on her bed to brace herself. Oya's ass clapped loud and she was unable to make a sound from her mouth. The shouting she had done made her voice hoarse, and she snapped her eyes shut and sucked on the blanket.
"Hold these ass cheeks open!"
Reaching behind her, she stroked her backside with her long nails and pulled her fleshy cheeks apart.
"Look at that pussy!" he choked out.
His groans rained down on her and once he started grunting and slapping her ass, she knew she would fall apart all over his dick soon.
"...being my good girl...pussy stretched all around me...fuck...Oya..."
She couldn't take it anymore. He was rooted in her way down deep until he bottomed out and gripped her hips.
"Right there! Right there!" he groaned.
"Fuckkk..."
Her orgasm exploded when he slipped demanding fingers across her clit and stroked her to completion. Bucking his hips, Killmonger's body went rigid and he cursed a stream of expletives until he collapsed over her.
Panting together, she felt kisses planted down her spine from his lush lips. He pulled out of her and bent down to kiss her pussy, licking the essence that flowed out of her. When she sat up, he left the room to go into the bathroom. Killmonger returned with a smile on his face.
"Let's record your song tomorrow at my place around nineâ"
"I can't, I have to work at eight."
"Jody...Shameika..."
He padded out of her bedroom nude and went to the living room. Oya grabbed her t-shirt and pulled it on. She rummaged for a pair of sweatpants and sought out Killmonger. He stood in Jody and Shameika's bedroom talking quietly. She watched his shadow on the living room divider and felt a bit miffed that he didn't bother to dress before going to them. Her scent was all over him. The divider shook and she watched Killmonger pull it aside. Jody and Shameika stared at her. The smirk on Jody's face made Oya feel uncomfortable. Nothing like fucking a dude her ex had just rode hours before. Messy.
"We'll record before you go to work then. We need to lay it down fast. Skip rehearsal in the morning and just record. Cool?"
She nodded. The others seemed pleased with the idea.
"It's a great song, Oya," Shameika said.
Her eyes were still shiny and the lilt in her voice was relaxed. That man was working them all over. It worried her. Worried her for the next two weeks that they recorded tracks at his house and took promotional pictures for Coachella with a photographer he hired. The PR machine for Coachella was going into overdrive. Killmonger made them cancel all appearances until the festival. He paid them all out of his own pocket to make up for gigs they passed up.
"It's to build anticipation," he assured them.
Their streaming numbers jumped, especially when they posted the new pictures of Killmonger with them on their official website. He was part of the group now. The man drove them to play until their fingers swelled up and bled and their voices felt like they chewed chalk all day. Their bodies ached from working so hard. Killmonger's work ethic was stringent but worth all the effort. Oya's stamina improved. Musically and sexually.
They all shared him.
He was more discreet with their liaisons. The new polyamory created a push and pull that made their music racy. Electric.
The only foursome they indulged in was a weekend before Coachella. They tripped on 'shrooms with Killmonger in his house after swimming in his pool, and danced in their swim suits his den listening to all the new music they had created together.
"If you bring this fire to Coachella, it's a done deal," he said lying on his floor gazing up at his skylight that covered half of the ceiling.
"Done deal?" Oya said watching her fingers grow watery-looking as she allowed her body to trip with the high she felt.
"Yeah, Warner will sign us," he said like it was no big deal.
She screamed with Jody and Shameika as they peppered kisses all over his face. He stayed on his back as they sat around him like a harem.
"All this work you put in, it's all simmering on the stove. I gave y'all some extra seasoning and now we're all cooked down to the pot liquor now," he said.
His eyes were seductive, and his mouth was lax showing them his bottom slugs. Shameika stroked his cheek and he smiled. Oya bent down and kissed him and he accepted her ripe lips with a moan and wandering fingers. Stripping for him, they all took turns riding his face and going through condoms as they rode his dick too. Reconnecting with Jody intimately was a sweet reminder of how they used to be years before. Shameika and Jody sucked on his balls as she ran her tongue around the bulbous tip of his glans and she felt extra special when he came in her mouth. Jody and Shameika cleaned him with lusty licks and were rewarded with slow drips of extra semen that spilled all over their lips. They slept together in a warm heap of arms and legs on the floor and she woke up with his Killmonger's tongue sucking on her tits. She climbed on top of him and bounced on his dick with her heavy breasts teasing his face, letting him cum hot and raw inside of her. Jody and Shameika watched her make Killmonger holler her name like he had the holy ghost and they giggled when his eyes rolled back from his orgasm.
All was well.
Until it wasn't.
Carrying coffee containers from Starbuck's, Oya and Jody returned to a final mixing session in the home studio catching Killmonger fucking the shit out of Shameika on the sound board. Jody dropped the coffee she had for herself and Shameika and cursed a blue streak. Killmonger yanked off the condom and fastened his pants looking confused by the reaction. Oya was just as confused when Jody snapped and she pulled her back before it turned physical.
"Why you trippin'?" Killmonger yelled.
Tears welled in Jody's eyes.
"You promised!" Jody screamed.
Oya glanced between them. Shameika hung her head in shame.
Shit.
It became clear to Oya.
"I thought we were all good," Killmonger said still searching for understanding.
"This is why..." Oya mumbled.
"It just happened!" Shameika shrieked.
Jody stomped out of the studio and left the house.
"Jody!"
Oya grabbed Shameika's arm to stop her.
"Give her a minute, Shameika. Just go to the bathroom for now and â"
"What is going on?!" Killmonger said still out of the loop.
Shameika cradled her waist. Killmonger stepped to her and stroked her arm.
"Shameika?"
"We had a rule. I wasn't supposed to be with you by myself."
"Well damn, why didn't you tell me that?"
"Cuz I wanted to be alone with you like Oya is!"
"Shameika, bathroom, now!" Oya pushed.
Shameika left them alone.
"I told you," Oya hissed.
"I didn't know about their rule. I would've respected it."
"That was their fault for not cluing you in from the beginning."
"Shit. Jody won't quit will she?"
Oya pounded her fists on top of her head. The doorbell rang. Killmonger glanced at his security video screens near the sound board.
"It's Doug and Anderson from my management. I invited them to hear the final mix. Fuck."
Oya left Killmonger and hustled Shameika out of the bathroom.
"Get it together. Deal with your problem at home, you hear me?" Oya clucked like a mother hen.
Jody wandered back in with her lips set in a scowl and she sat away from Shameika as they heard the playback in the studio. Doug and Anderson loved it. It was a full album worthy of representation. Doug, balding, in his late forties, and deadly serious with his facial expressions kept squinting his eyes as he listened.
"What do we call this? Seriously? What is this sound?"
"Pot Liquor," Oya said.
Killmonger chuckled.
"What?" Doug asked.
"Inside thing," Killmonger said winking at Oya.
They played the album back again and the three men chatted with big plans for the band. But Oya could only watch the tension escalating with Jody and Shameika.
It was hell in a hand basket and Killmonger kicked it on its way by seducing them all into thinking they could handle open sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
Fuck.
The end of the beginning making way for new beginnings...
Oya stood behind the stage of the Mojave Stage tent with a nervous heart hammering in her chest.
The press, Killmonger's fans, and online pundits billed it the battle of the bands when Slippage was to perform after them, and Ark Ten before them. It bummed Oya when she watched smaller more talented bands get pushed aside for big name acts that didn't need the exposure that Coachella gave. A-Listers ruined the vibe for her. Everywhere she looked people were there to be seen. It had ceased to be about the music for many there. Influencers had some pull, and she was able to speak with a few before she dressed for their set. Shiny black dress. Blood red overcoat. Hair slicked down, titties propped up, she twisted all the silver rings that covered every finger on her hands. Two chunky silver chokers rested around her neck. They all agreed to dress their personality, and for Killmonger, that meant topless, black basketball shorts and black trainers.
Jody and Shameika were barely on speaking terms. Oya stayed at Killmonger's place because hanging around the apartment was brutal. Icy stares. Early morning cuss outs. Crying. She stayed out of the way as much as possible, but left after two days. All her time spent before Coachella was used to play her guitar, get her voice pampered and ready, and pray that the audience was receptive. They were part of the two Saturday weekend line-ups, and she prayed Jody and Shameika could keep it together for the following Saturday.
It felt like she and Killmonger had a lot to prove. Oya facing Deidre with Ark Ten, and Killmonger peeping Slippage without him.
"Is it mean to want the other band to suck?" Oya whispered to him.
"Nah. Slippage is a different animal without me now. They have new music. It's a new era for them."
"You miss them?"
"No."
"If people don't like this, you don't have to stay with us. We can say you were justâ"
"Shut up," he said slapping her butt.
The thumping of music from a small monitor screen drew her eyes toward it where she watched Deidre shred. They hadn't spoken since she left them high and dry. Deidre had on a revealing black dress that showed a lot of breasts without nipples, and a thigh high split that Oya hoped had a g-string at the top. Killmonger bobbed his head as he listened to Deidre do a solo. She was a star. It showed.
Oya inhaled deep.
"You got this," Killmonger whispered in her ear. He kissed her and she felt her nerves move to her neck.
So many people. So many high expectations.
Oya shook her hands and glanced over at Jody who paced with her earbuds on listening to meditative sounds. Shameika stood still tapping her drumsticks against the top of her thigh, her eyes glassy and focused on some netherworld.
Tyson stood nearby keeping his eyes on the crowd and people backstage.
Martina, the stage manager walked over turning down her headset.
"Ready?" she said.
Oya nodded and the band circled up. She stood between Jody and Shameika.
"Go out there and be yourselves," Killmonger said.
The glint from his slugs made her tamper down her nerves.
"You don't look nervous at all," Jody said.
"I still get butterflies. I want to do my best for all of you."
They bowed their heads and Oya did a simple prayer and they all squeezed hands.
"Do it Shameika," Oya said.
Shameika shook her hair, tugged on her tiny black halter and shorts and pranced out to her drums. Colorful lights made her look glamourous and there was a smattering of applause as their logo lit up above her head. One twirl and she slammed on the skins and got right into her lane as their pocket queen. Oya saw a sly smile spread across Jody's face and she stomped out to where her bass waited for her and hooked in. When the lights struck her face, her head whipped toward Oya.
"What?" Oya mouthed.
Jody put stank on the bass as her thumb slapped hard. Killmonger hooked into his guitar backstage and when he heard his cue, he began to play and a roar shook the open tent. Strolling out like he had always been with them made Oya grip the mic in her hand tight. She was bigger than life. Bigger than the stage. Bigger than the biggest galaxy in the universe. Switching on the mic she called out,
"Buckle up Coachella, you ain't ready for this shit. I promise you. Hold onto to your edges..."
She stepped out and her eyes bugged. Holy fuck. The Mojave Stage tent they were under was packed. More than packed, the crowd extended far out of the tent and many people had to watch them on monitors outside.
Killmonger sidled up to her to help her regain her focus as she felt disoriented for a second. She looked down at his fingers working his chords and he bit his bottom lip giving her a flash of his face when he orgasmed and her clit thumped thinking about the way he handled her body. Oya shook her hips and he moved against her body.
"This bad boy right here is ready...are you ready Coachella?"
The roar of the crowd rattled the stage and instead of feeling like an indie band, they performed like they were on the main stage as the sun disappeared. Killmonger took over and scorched the guitar intro that Deidre ruined so long ago at Joshua Tree. When his eyes sought hers out and he suggestively wiggled his tongue at her the way he liked to work her clit, she growled deep in her throat then let pure rage flow out as she threw back her head.
"Show me someone not full of herself, and I'll show you a hungry person! Ahhhh, yeahhhhh!"
Everything poured out of her and Killmonger drove the rhythm hard, pushing her to dig deep and leave it all on the stage. Sweat made his scars shine like perfect little jewels just for her fingers to touch, which she did like always making people scream with delight.
She dropped to her knees and he placed his guitar close to her face to simulate fellatio. She spun herself toward Jody who did the same as she screeched out
"Give it to me!"
The first song raised the crowd into a tizzy, and it was easy to slip into the next song. She adjusted to the more than expected size of the audience under the tent and outside of it. Fifteen minutes in she took off her coat and slipped on her own guitar and joined Killmonger for a battle and by the time she caught her second wind mid show, her eyes caught a familiar face in the wings.
Deidre.
There was a smile on her face.
Feeling a way, Oya strummed her guitar and stepped to her mic stand.
"I want to introduce you all to the newest member of To Sleep With Anger...you may recognize him from some other band...who did you use to be with?" she asked Killmonger.
The crowd laughed.
"Everyone put your hands together once more for Erik Killmonger on lead guitar!"
Killmonger showed off a bit, and they went off script and jammed.
It felt like magic. Oya's heart swelled and she felt generous when Jody finally noticed Deidre on the side.
"Would you all mind if I bring out an unexpected guest?"
The audience clapped.
"All the way from the Outdoor Theater across the way, Deidre Peterson of Ark Ten!"
Deidre held her hands up, but Oya put a hand on her hip.
"Don't make me come over there and drag you out!"
Deidre walked out humbly, her face showing doubt about what was happening. Her eyes lit up when she saw Killmonger looking at her, giving her dimples and a wink.
"Use my guitar, Deidre," Oya whispered in her ear when she leaned in for a polite hug.
She glanced around at Jody and Shameika before she took in the crowd.
"Go ahead," Jody shouted.
Deidre picked up the guitar and Killmonger gave her space as she strummed it then broke into the very first song she and Oya ever wrote as teenagers.
"Bitch!" Oya teased before Jody stepped to her mic.
"I won't let you suffer all the way through it. We were just learning!" Deidre joked.
Oya faced the audience.
"We wanted to be heavy metal queens because metal, like all good American music started with Black people... you know it's true!" she catcalled the audience.
Deidre played one of their last songs they performed together and Jody joined her with Shameika rounding out the sound. Killmonger followed the rhythm adding his gentle flourishes.
"Can we give 'em a tiny taste?" Oya asked.
Jody held it down as Deidre shared the mic with Oya and they harmonized two verses before Deidre stopped playing. There was too much emotion on her face and she unhooked herself from the guitar and placed it back on the stand behind them. She blew kisses to the audience and hugged Oya before leaving the stage in a near run. Killmonger brought the music back up and forced Oya to let go of the past and look toward the future. There was pain still there, but they were both where they were supposed to be. They couldn't hate on the universe for being correct in the outcome.
They jumped back into kicking ass and taking names with Oya showing off her octave range and playing off of her bandmates. Killmonger tried to spit bars to one song and she covered his mouth with her hands making the audience cackle as she took over and showed him how it was done. Their songs ran the gamut of sexual politics, race, class, love, and the rage of Black women who were overlooked and forgotten. She sweated out her hair and rivulets of her exertion ran down her neck and breasts. Wrapping up with a strong closing, they all knew that the world was their oyster now. They carried sharp knives on the stage to cut the oysters open from now on. She waved for Shameika to come away from the drums and the four of them stood side by side. Jody threw an arm around Shameika and Killmonger held Oya's hand as they took in the applause and whistles, and shouts for more.
Deidre was absent from backstage but it was just as well. It was To Sleep With Anger's moment. Not hers.
Bigger acts sought them out to chat and they took some time to watch Slippage perform. They weren't as good anymore without Killmonger. She saw the smirk on his arrogant face when their reception without him was less than stellar.
Killmonger had hired a crew to break down and pack up their instruments and they were driven home in a large black S.U.V. to Killmonger's house at the end of their Coachella stay that first weekend. Jody and Shameika went off to one of his guest rooms to work out some things leaving Oya alone with Killmonger. They had talked all night after their performance. There was hope.
"Think they'll make up all the way now?" Killmonger asked.
They sat inside his jacuzzi easing their weary bodies. It was early in the morning.
"They're in love. But we'll see what happens before next weekend."
Oya sat up on the edge when the water got too hot for her.
"What about you?" he asked.
"What about me?" she said flicking hair from her eyes.
Killmonger swam up to her and pressed his body in between her thighs and gripped her backside.
"You were letting the world know some things with how you were acting on stage with me."
"Know what?"
"We're feeling each other. More than just an occasional hook-up."
"We do have mad chemistry."
His eyes became dreamy looking up at her.
"You are amazing, Oya. Tonight...shit all three of you were just fucking raw. Coachella hasn't seen that in a long time. Fuck, music hasn't seen that in a long time. Period."
She stroked the top of his head fingering his locs and he closed his eyes and rested his head against her stomach. Rubbing gentle circles along his back, she touched his scars that had become so precious to her. He had become precious to her.
"Killmonger?"
He raised his head up and she lowered hers and kissed him. Their lips fought for leverage together and when their tongues sought heat and wet mouths, he stepped out of the water and held her hand. Her eyes felt heavy. Sleepy. She was still high from being onstage the night before.
"Where are we going?" she said.
"To make some music together."
"Oh, yeah?"
"All day, And the next day, and the next..."
He pulled her along and they took off their wet swimsuits and shared a shower together before he took her to bed. The man played hymns on her breasts with his calloused guitar fingers and hummed a sultry blues on her slick folds. Musical notes danced across her clit with the tip of his tongue and when he sucked sweet orgasms from her one after the other, she finally understood what Betty Davis meant by the lyrics in "Anti-Love Song" about a nigga making a woman "scrawl", because she was screaming and trying to crawl up the walls once he penetrated her, parting her folds like soft fleshy curtains. His short teasing thrusts had her begging him to fill her up with his entire length, stretch her wide open, and take her to the place where love rested easy.
They held hands as he went deeper and deeper and Killmonger made her lose all hope of ever letting him go.
The world made her a little less angry with him in it, and she was so grateful.
A.N. Song lyrics were from poems.
Nikki Giovanni poem ""Poem for a Lady Whose Voice I Like"
Sonya Sanchez poem "Present"
A.N.: This was originally published June 6, 2021. Brought it back for fun! I thought I would expand it as an indie book, but I'll wait on that!
#Afropunk!Erik Killmonger#killmonger fanfiction#killmonger smut#Erik Killmonger#Black Panther AU#Uzumaki Rebellion#Afropunk#Erik Killmonger Fanfiction
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The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez (Porn Star AU)
Series:Â The Sweepstakes
Pairing:Â Porn star Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader
Summary:Â It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now youâre not sure youâre brave enough to claim your sweepstakes prize.
Word count:Â ~3.2k
Rating:Â Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)
Content Warnings:Â reader is a full-figured gal, vague body descriptions, body insecurity, some ass smacks, ass worship, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (there is paperwork)
A/N: Huge thank you to @burntheedges for all her help with this!  Javi is a new character for me as is some of the subject matter Iâm writing about.  I hope Iâve done both justice!  Spanish translations are at the end, but everything should be able to be understood in line with context.  I hope you enjoy!
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
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âThereâs a kitchen to the left and a bathroom here,â Erin opens a door to show you a spacious full bath. âThe production room is at the end of this hall, which is where I will be if you need anything.â
You nod along and follow her down the hall.
âAnd of course, here is the room where youâll be doing your scene!â She opens the double doors with a flourish.
Itâs so⌠bright in there. Is it always that bright?
You look around the large bedroom. A bedroom you are very familiar with, as it is where your favorite porn production company films many of their videos.
You wrap your arms around your torso, feeling exposed even though youâre still fully clothed.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
You entered a sweepstakes you never expected to win. You saw the ad after a particularly satisfying session with your vibrator. It said, âEnter to win a night with your favorite performer!â
Your favorite performer had just given you a fantastic orgasm. In your dopamine haze it seemed like the best idea youâd ever had. Youâve never had an orgasm with a partner, but he gets you there every time. Could he do it in person?
The âheâ in question was none other than Javi Gutierrez. The friendliest porn star there ever was. Sunshine incarnate. You wondered and then you clicked submit.
Now, seeing the room in person, faced with the reality of the large bed and sunlight filtering through the curtains⌠your brilliant idea doesnât seem so brilliant anymore.
Erin leads you into the room and continues, âSince youâve opted not to be filmed, we have removed all the cameras except one.â She gestures towards a tripod in the corner. âThe lens cap is on though, itâs just for sound. We will be monitoring the feed just to be sure everyone is safe.â
âI⌠I donât know⌠if I can do this,â you choke out, your breaths coming faster and faster as panic builds in your chest.
âHey, itâs ok.â Erin places her hands on your shoulders and captures your darting gaze. âYou donât have to do anything you donât want to do. If you just want to meet Javi and call it a night, that is completely fine. He really is the sweetest.â She smiles at you, and you let out a long exhale, allowing your shoulders to relax slightly.
âHe wonât be upset?â
âUpset? No. Our performers are all very aware of how intimidating this is and would never judge anyone for backing out, Javi especially. I know he is excited to meet you, though.â
âMe? Why?â Thatâs just ridiculous. One of the most beautiful men in existence is excited to meet jiggly, squishy you?
âHeâs excited to meet everyone, all the time, but we did show him your photo and tell him a little about you from your paperwork. I believe his exact word was deliciosa.â She winks.
Delicious? What? Javi is always so complimentary to his scene partners, telling them how beautiful they are and how good they feel, but none of his scene partners look like you.
âWhat do you think? Want to meet him?â Erin asks you gently.
You nod. âYeah, I guess.â If Javi is who you think he is, then he will at least be friendly and kind.
âIâll send him in in a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable and remember, we are here for you, however you want this evening to go.â She leaves the room, closing the doors behind her.
You face the bed, the space youâve traveled to in your mind so many times now real in front of you. Youâll just meet him, and it will be fine. So what if youâll never know what itâs really like to be with him. So what if this once in a lifetime opportunity passes you by.
You hear the doors open behind you and quickly turn around only to be blinded by the gorgeousness that is Javi Gutierrez.
Heâs wearing a white tank top that shows off his broad, muscular shoulders, lightly freckled from the sun, and loose linen pants that hang low on his hips, revealing a thin slice of tummy and happy trail. His skin positively glows in the setting sun. His hair falls softly in ringlets of brown and gold around his handsome face.
âHello, I am Javi.â He introduces himself with a wide smile and open arms. You allow him to gather you into his broad chest, too stunned that this is happening to even introduce yourself properly. You mumble your name against him.
His scent fills your nostrilsâcitrus and the ocean breezeâand you breathe it in greedily. Too soon he lets you go and steps back. A look of deep concern fills his chocolate brown eyes as he considers you carefully.
âErin said maybe you want to leave.â His deep voice is so gentle and soothing. âIt is ok if you do, but I hope not.â
âYou donât have to say that.â
His brow furrows in confusion. âSay what? That I would be sad not to get to fuck you?â
âYou donât⌠really want to do⌠that with me. Itâs ok.â Your cheeks heat as you stutter your answer.
âOf course I want to, why would I not want to? You are so beautiful. Bonita.â
âNo Iâm not, you donât want this,â you gesture towards yourself, your tummy, your ass.
âI do want this. What is wrong with this?â He looks genuinely confused. âMay I touch you, bonita?â
âI⌠I guess.â
He takes your hand and brings it to his lips then trails kisses up your arm. You shiver as his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin.
âÂĄQue linda! So beautiful and soft,â he murmurs as he gets to your shoulder, dropping your arm and placing his hands on your waist. âWhy would I not want more of you to fill up my hands?â He slides his hands around to your ass, bringing your fronts together. You can feel his length hardening between you and your mouth falls open in surprise. He squeezes your ass, âThis. You. Are beautiful. And I do want to fuck you. Te deseo, bonita.â
He closes the distance between you to press a kiss on your mouth, currently open in shock. He teases your lips and chin as his hands knead your ass, pulling you against him. One hand travels up to palm your breast. He finds the hard point of your nipple and you gasp as he pinches it.
âDo you not want the cameras because you do not think you are beautiful, bonita?â he whispers against your skin as he drags his angular nose along your jawline.
You nod as you whimper. The idea of watching yourself like that⌠it makes your insides churn. You just knew when you saw the question in the paperwork that you would never want to watch it, so why record it?
He pulls back and holds your gaze intently. âIt is your choice, por supuesto. But I hope I can make you feel beautiful tonight. With me. Will you stay?â
His smoldering gaze is hypnotic and you find yourself replying, âYes, Iâll stay.â
âBueno, this makes me very happy.â The smile that lights up his face confirms his words.
You find yourself smiling back, your insecurities taking a backseat to the fizzy excitement now bubbling through your veins. His joyful presence is contagious.
Javi returns to your mouth, no longer in teasing nips, but with intent as he draws you into a deep kiss. His tongue slides against yours with languid, knee-weakening strokes. He leads you backwards until you feel the bed against the backs of your legs and directs you to sit. With your head tilted back, he continues to explore your mouth, standing between your legs, his large hands cradling your face.
He steps back and pulls his tank top over his head. He moves to return to your kiss, but you stop him with your hands on his chest. You have to see him, touch him, this beautiful man youâve fantasized about so many times.
âYouâre gorgeous, Javi,â you whisper reverently as you drag your palms down his golden chest, delighting when his nipples pebble under your fingers.
âGracias, bonita,â he chuckles softly. His fingers trace your jaw and the shell of your ear as you explore his body. âUndo the tie,â he murmurs as your fingers trace the edge of his trousers. You can already see the shape of him through the thin material, straining to be released.
You bite your lip and Javi groans, âFuck. Those lips, ay, son deliciosos.â
Carefully, you tug at the drawstring knot, it gives way, and his pants slide down his beautiful legs, revealing the full glory of his nakedness to you. His cock bobs in front of you and your mouth waters at the site. You shift, squeezing your legs together at the ache building at your center.
His glorious length, hard⌠for you. It boggles your mind.
âItâs so sexy, you looking at me like that,â Javi growls. âI canât wait to fuck you with this cock.â He strokes himself in front of you. Heâs so thick it sends shivers up your spine.
You look up at him and lick your lips. âCan I taste you, Javi?â The boldness of the request surprises you even as the words escape your mouth. Youâve become brave so quickly in the presence of Javiâs obvious desire.
âAbsolutamente. Whatever you want. I am here for you.â He smiles down at you as he stands in front of you next to the bed.
You take him in your hand and stroke lightly from root to tip, then bend over to retrace your path with your tongue. Javiâs approval rumbles in his chest as you lick and taste your way along him, ending with a swirl of your tongue over the head of his gorgeous cock. Grasping him firmly in one hand you draw him between your lips.
Javi caresses your neck and cheek as you pump him into your mouth. You close your eyes and focus on remembering the salty taste of his skin on your tongue.  You never want to forget.
You lose yourself in the rhythmic action, stroking him with your hand in time with your mouth until your jaw aches. You pull back to catch your breath only to have his mouth on yours again.
âYour turn, bonita,â he practically growls into your mouth. âI need to taste you. Por favor. Lo necesito.â
You remove your clothes with his help. You want to look down, away from his face, so you donât see his reaction to you, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. What you see looking back at you is pure lust and desire.
Goosebumps rise over your skin at the intensity of it, your nipples pebble and your pussy throbs.
âSo soft,â he whispers reverently, cupping your breasts. He squeezes and moans before taking your nipple in his mouth. He presses you back, so youâre laying on the bed. Out of habit, your arms move to cover your body, to somehow make yourself smaller.
âDonât hide from me, bonita.â Javi gently takes your wrists and pins your hands out to the side. âLet me see you. You are so beautiful. Quiero verte.â
Sincerity shines from his kind eyes. You take deep breaths and relax. You want to trust him.
He kisses your lips then travels down your neck, sucking at your pulse point and making you gasp. He gathers your breasts in his large hands and nuzzles into them before taking each peak in his mouth. He travels across your belly, licking and nibbling at your roundness, before grasping your thighs in his hands and licking a broad swipe up your slit.
You moan as his warm mouth envelopes your cunt and his tongue nudges at your sensitive bud. âDelicioso,â he groans between licks. He slips a finger inside you, and you instinctively roll your hips into him.
Him stroking you inside and out is divine, and you try to sink into the sensations and just enjoy, but a thought keeps worming its way back in. Your mind wonât let it go, so you clear your throat, âUm Javi? I need to tell you something.â
âWhat is it, sweetheart? Are you ok? Do you not like it?â he kisses the inside of your thigh, looking worried.
âNo no, it feels so good, donât stop. I justâŚÂ I⌠fuckâŚâ you lose focus, distracted as he resumes dragging his fingers in and out of your pussy, circling your clit with his thumb.
âI have read your papers, have you changed your mind about something?â
âNo, itâs not that. Itâs just⌠Iâve never⌠come with a partner.â
âHmm,â he murmurs into your skin, continuing to stroke you, âDo you come when you watch me?â
âEvery time,â you moan as his fingers find a spot deep inside that makes your arch off the bed.
âThen we will see. It is ok if you do not.â
âI want to. With you.â You do, so so badly.
Itâs something youâve thought about a lot. It could be a matter of skill, but you can get yourself off alone just never with a partner. You have a suspicion that how you feel about your body might be the reason. None of your partners have ever said anything to make you feel badly, but you havenât exactly let them appreciate you either, assuming that they wouldnât.
You cover yourself, turn off the lights, only partially undress, in the hopes that a partner wonât notice what you look like. As if they havenât been looking at you in all the moments leading to the bedroom.
But Javi didnât let you do that. In this bright room, you bared yourself to him and he said you were deliciosa. Â
âYou have my word, I will try very hard,â he places his free hand over his heart, sealing his promise with a nod, making you giggle. âAnd we have things to help, if you need them. It is ok. I will take care of you.â
âThank you, Javi, ohâŚâ you cut yourself off with a moan as Javi dives back into your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth and making your hips jerk.
You decide to believe him and work to clear your mind. Your eyes drift close as you focus on the pleasure he is pulling out of you. His warm tongue strokes wide and firm, circling your clit in determined strokes. You let your body respond how it wants. Your hips rock into him with each stroke of his tongue, seeking that perfect pressure. It feels amazing.
But you donât come.
Before you can get frustrated, Javi kisses his way back up to your tits and gathers them in his palms. âLook at you in my hands,â he moans, mouthing at your soft flesh, swirling his tongue around each nipple. You take the opportunity to run your fingers through his silky hair, twirling one curl and then another.
He groans in appreciation when you tug slightly. The sound goes straight to your core.
He looks up at you with a wicked grin. âRoll over, bonita.â
He rolls you on to your stomach, kneeling across your outstretched legs. He gently smacks your ass cheek, sending ripples through your body. You gasp and your pussy clenches around nothing.Â
âYesssss,â he hisses and he smacks you again. âLook how you bounce for me.â
He takes handfuls of your ass cheeks and kneads and squeezes them together. Suddenly you feel his cock slide through the cleft of your ass. You try to twist to see him but can only get glimpses of him staring down at you, slack jawed and wrecked.
Your body is making him look like that. It makes you feel powerful, and you wish you could watch him enjoy you. For the first time, you regret not allowing the cameras. Â
âFuuuck,â Javi growls, sliding his cock between your ass cheeks. You whimper and whine pinned underneath him. âI could come like this, bonita, you feel so good.â He lets your ass cheeks fall apart and smacks them again before gathering you back up around his cock. âSo juicy and plump. Fucking amazing.â
Youâre drenched with arousal and unable to relieve any of the pressure.
âFuck me, Javi, please,â you beg.
âSĂ, bonita, I will fuck you,â he growls.
Javi scoots back and rolls you over then wedges himself between your legs.
Taking his cock in hand he glides himself through your slippery folds, nudging at your clit with each stroke. You whimper as he teases you until he notches himself at your entrance.
He eases himself into your channel. Heâs a lot to take and works his way in gently, watching your face for signs of discomfort.
You let out a guttural moan as he bottoms out in your cunt. âSo good Javi, youâre so big. Fuck, Iâm so full.â The stretch of him is glorious.
He pistons his hips slowly at first as you both savor the drag of him through your walls. Gradually he speeds up until heâs slamming his hips into you.
Every thrust reverberates through your body. Your breasts and tummy wobble, but you donât try to stop them.
âLook how you bounce when I fuck you,â Javi groans, continuing his relentless pace, â itâs so sexy.â  His fingers dig into your thighs as he presses you open.
âYes Javi, more⌠yes⌠please.â You beg nonsensically as your orgasm begins to sparkle at the edges of your awareness.
âYou need to be filled up, donât you bonita? You need to be stretched around this cock. Thatâs it. Fuck. You feel so good.â He moves a hand in between your bodies to circle your clit and you cry out.
âI think Iâm close, Javi,â you whine. He circles your clit faster continuing to drag his thick cock in and out of you.
âLet go, bonita. Let me see it.â
You tip over the edge, an edge you have never found with a partner before, but youâve never felt so desired with a partner before and so free in your body. Javiâs skill with his cock and mouth and fingers is unparalleled for sure, but what does it is the look in his eyes and his filthy words when he fucks you.
He has made it so clear that his arousal is not despite your body, but because of it. And he made you believe it too.
âBonita?â
âMmmm?â you mumble as you come back into your body, the aftershocks of your orgasm spacing farther and farther apart.
Javi is next to you, holding the back of your hand up to his lips as he peppers it with kisses.
âI have a question.â
âWhat is it?â you crack one eye open.
âCan I go get Erin to set up some cameras? For the next one?â he asks, eyes wide and hopeful.
You bite your lip as a shy smile spreads across your face. âYeah, ok.â
âDeliciosa.â He smiles in return before bounding out of the bed towards the door, leaving you giggling on the bed.
You stretch out while you wait for him to return, feeling more at home in your body than you have in a long time. You wiggle your fingers and toes and smile to yourself. The next one is going to be fun.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -Â
Translations: Deliciosa/o/son deliciosos â delicious, they are delicious Bonita â beautiful Que linda â how beautiful/pretty Te deseo â I desire you Por supuesto â of course Bueno â good Gracias â thank you Absolutamente â absolutely Lo necesito â I need it Quero verta â I want to see you
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#the sweepstakes#javi gutierrez#javi g#javi gutierrez x reader#fav g x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal
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