#aquaman the lost kingdom

[sweetfictionalworld]

A New Beginning (Orm Marius x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Orm finds a new life on the surface.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie.

Author's notes: Watching Aquaman The Lost Kingdom and my beloved Orm again hit me with a wave of inspiration. Can't believe it's been five years since I last wrote about him. I know this won't get many notes, cause he isn't a very popular character, but I don't care. I finally got some inspiration again.

Standing on the balcony, you looked across the green landscape and smiled as Orm wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he murmured into your neck as he placed feather-light kisses on your skin.

Blushing, you leaned your head to the side and sighed blissfully as his lips traveled down your skin and you started reminiscing about how you met.

"Here you go, Sir."

You put down the cheeseburger in front of Orm and he looked up at you with those curious, blue eyes you'd grown accustomed to seeing every day. Eyes that made your belly flutter from the first day he looked at you.

"Thank you, y/n," Orm said and smiled. "And I've told you. Please, call me Orm."

You smiled shyly and fluttered your eyes down as you nodded. "You know, Orm. You've come here every day for a month now, eating the same thing. How on earth do you stay in such good shape?"

Orm shrugged his shoulders. "Good metabolism, I guess."

You let out a soft chuckle and walked away to the next table. Orm watched as you worked, jealous of the other men receiving that beautiful smile of yours. It wasn't just the cheeseburger pulling him back here every day. Ever since that first day you served him, he had been lost in your smile. At first, he hated you for it, hated himself for allowing a human to have this power over him. But over time, he came to like these humans and their ordinary life. You humans weren't so bad after all. And you...Orm wetted his lips. Should he muster the courage to ask you out? Orm frowned. When did he become so shy and uncertain of himself? When he was King, he had no problem getting women. Or perhaps, the true reason for that was because he had been King...

You took a deep breath and smoothed down your apron as you looked over at Orm's table. You studied the short, soft curls on his neck, imagining running your fingers through them...Your eyes landed on his broad shoulders and arms, wondering what he looked like underneath his clothes. You lowered your gaze and a shy smile grazed your features. You wanted to ask him out so badly, but wasn't sure he felt the same way about you. Sure, he had given you looks indicating that he did. But who knew? You'd definitely been wrong about these things in the past. Perhaps, you were being delusional? After all, what would a handsome man like him see in you?

"Y/n?"

You were drawn back to reality by Orm's voice. You fluttered your eyes and looked up at him, pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind. You smiled and cleared your voice.

"Yes?"

"I..." Orm looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his head. He almost looked...nervous?" "I was wondering, if you would like to go out with me sometime?"

A pang of heat washed over you and you stared at the man in front of you, your eyes blinking slowly as if time slowed down. Orm saw the look in your eyes and knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"I would love to go out with you!"

It was Orm's time to stare at you, his mouth half-open in shock.

"Really?"

You nodded and smiled. "Really."

Orm's hands traveled down your stomach and slid underneath your nightgown, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers ran across the thin fabric of your underwear. His touch sent a warm spark of arousal through your clit. Moaning softly, you leaned back against his warm, naked chest, your hips bucking gently against his hand, searching for the pleasure you knew was waiting.

"I want a child with you, y/n," Orm whispered and pushed his fingers underneath your panties, groaning when he felt how wet you already were for him. His cock twitched in response, growing hard inside his pajama pants. He loved how in tune your body was with his, always responding so delightfully to his touches.

Your heart leaped at his words, making you unaware of the pleasure his fingers were rubbing on your clit. Turning around, you cupped his face and looked into his kind, blue eyes.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your sparkling eyes betraying your happiness. You knew he would be an amazing dad, but you never knew if the family life was something he wanted. Not until he'd asked you to marry him. Then you had hope that someday he wanted to have children with you.

"Yes. I've never been more certain about anything in my entire life," Orm said and grabbed your legs, lifted you up, and wrapped them around his waist. Truth be told, seeing Arthur with Mera and their son had awakened a longing in him. And he swore to be the kind of father he never had, a caring, loving dad who would do anything for his family.

Orm carried you silently into the bedroom and dropped you down onto the bed, his eyes burning with an intense passion you hadn't seen in him before as he looked intensely into your eyes. Your eyes traveled down his muscular body. Damn, you would never get used to how incredibly well-shaped his body was. He looked like one of those ancient God statues carved in marble.

Orm couldn't control himself anymore, the sight of the shape of your tempting breasts and hard nipples beneath the fabric of your silk nightgown making his dick twitch greedily.

"I will fill you up so many times you'll be dripping for days and my child is growing inside your belly," he grumbled through his tensed jaw and ripped your underwear off of you.

"Orm?!" Your eyes widened as you stared up at your husband, your lower belly filling with an uncontrollable, pulsing heat. What was up with him? You'd never seen him like this before.

Orm only growled and pulled his pants down, his gaze never leaving yours as he stepped out of the pants and crawled on top of you. He grabbed your legs and pushed inside you in one swift movement, making you gasp and clutch onto his lower arms. Orm groaned at your tightness and started thrusting into you deeply at a hard, relentless pace.

"Fuck!" you moaned in a breathy gasp, your nails digging into Orm's arms as he pounded you so roughly that the bed rocked and creaked. His cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you, creating a wave of pleasure searing through your core at every thrust. Feeling the force of an overwhelming orgasm approaching, you tilted your head back, your lips slightly parted as you closed your eyes and surrendered to the sensations flowing through your body.

Orm looked down at the pleasured expression on your face as he thrust into you, felt the tightening of your walls, and knew you were close. Straightening up on his knees, he grabbed your hips and thrust even deeper inside you, his breath quickened and chest glistening with sweat.

You gasped when Orm changed his position, and his thrusts grew harder and deeper. Opening your eyes, you looked up into his eyes filled with so much want and need.

"Please, Orm...fill me up. Put a baby in my belly," you whispered through his pounding thrusts.

Orm's eyes widened and darkened at your words, and you could feel his cock swelling impossibly big inside you.

"Fuck...," Orm grunted quietly and thrust faster until he pumped into you a final time, emptying his full load inside you. Throwing his head back, he growled as his hips bucked erratically, pumping every drop of seed he had to offer deep inside your belly.

"Oh, Orm...," you moaned as he came inside you, his swelling cock pushing you over the edge of climax. Lifting your hips, you cried out with pleasure as you clenched around him, your pussy milking his cock like a vice.

Looking down, Orm watched as his cock twitched inside you, filling you up with every last drop until you were full, and it began to drizzle out around his cock still lodged inside of you. The erotic sight made him rock hard again, his dick swelling inside your still twitching walls.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cock swell inside you, and a new wave of arousal spiked through your belly. Your pussy clenched in response, and Orm smirked down at you, an amused chuckle rumbling through his chest.

"I love you, y/n."

Smiling back, you cupped his face. "I love you too, Orm."

Orm quirked an eyebrow and smirked anew. "Ready for round two?"

You giggled softly and pulled him down for a kiss. "Always."

Thank you for taking your time to read ♡

[doormatty3]

Ocean Eyes - Masterlink (Orm Marius x Reader) //FINISHED

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Warnings: 18+, fluff, kissing, romance, smut, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, kissing, face-fucking, possessiveness, jealousy, semi-public sex, fingering

A/N: I couldn’t resist and had to write an Orm ff after watching Aquaman 2 - the plot was very very pretty after all. I wanna thank whoever decided to put Patrick Wilson in a compression shirt for 2hrs

Also: this is gonna be a bit longer with more chapters to go - a lot of fluff and smut as well as Orm being adorably lost at surface world stuff. AND beware, I will spoil some Aquaman 2 stuff here

ALL CHAPTERS:

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

One Shots:

Onions and Orgasms - You laugh about Orm’s horrible kitchen skills, and he shows you with what he *is* skilled.

[silence-burns]

The Death of Me //part 1

Fandom: Aquaman

Summary: (very small spoilers for the movie) Finding Orm on your doorstep was not something you expected. Having him move in was even worse. But the effect he still had on every part of your life would be the death of you.

The sun was blinding, but unfortunately, not enough to make the man standing before you disappear.

“You're in surprisingly good shape for a dead person,” you said.

“And you look terrible for someone supposedly alive,” said Orm.

You shrugged and immediately regretted it. The tight bandages keeping your shoulder in place worked as a poor reminder it was out of commission for the next few weeks.

“How I've missed that princely charm. Piss me off some more and, half-dead or not, I'm gonna kick your ass back into that desert I got it from. It might be the last thing I do, but if I become a ghost, I'll brag about it for eternity.”

Your mood soured further with every minute you remained conscious. Surprises and resurrections, you could deal with, but your ability to be polite left long ago. There were a lot of impolite and certainly unprincely words bubbling in your chest, but they all disappeared when the most magical, impossible, and straight-out-of-fairy-tales thing happened.

Orm, of his own volition, smiled.

The sun was still doing its best to blind your already red and swollen eyes—it failed yet again. You examined the strange occurrence, with the furrowed brows and all the small wrinkles and tiny folds in the skin that usually accompanied a person’s smile looking perfectly normal on his face. It was a genuine smile. You could only blink at him for a moment

“I thought scowling was the only expression you had. Like a factory setting, you know.”

“I'm glad to hear you are as sharp as ever, despite your current shortcomings.”

“Excuse you, I'm in great shape.”

The man in front of you politely didn't argue. It was rather clear from his expression that he had some serious doubts about not only the state of your body, but also about your mental capacity of acknowledging said state, but he made the wise choice of keeping these thoughts to himself.

Wise was your middle name; therefore, you allowed the silence to confirm your words. At the same time, you shifted more of your weight against the doorframe, hoping your grimace came across as menacing rather than painful. Your leg needed a bit of rest, nothing serious. It totally wasn’t almost crushed to pieces a few weeks ago.

The smile on Orm’s face, an expression you could get used to seeing, started to shift into a look of concern as he watched your eyes. You looked away, afraid of how much he could see. Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you inside the house.

It was a pretty house, very spacious, just like old rich men tended to enjoy—which might explain why Batman bought it a long time ago as a safehouse far from any prying eyes, and why he allowed you to occasionally use it as such.

Yet, despite all the initial spaciousness, it was rather easy to clutter if the person living inside had a few cracked bones, general lack of energy to move, and never invited anyone around to see the mess.

Orm raised an eyebrow when he noticed a sofa dragged into the kitchen area and the amount of empty, crushed packaging laying around it. You hated how much could be expressed without saying a word.

“Put me down.”

Your words came out weaker than intended. Orm held you in a bridal carry which put immense pressure on your cracked ribs and sent flashes of pain every time you inhaled. But he was so warm and close that your anger sizzled and faded.

With your head on his shoulder, you had the perfect view of his perfect profile and the perfect frown deepening the wrinkles between his brows.

“So, this is how you live now?” was all he said, in a controlled tone.

“I know you're not deaf and heard me the first time. Put me down. Preferably on my beautiful and completely normal kitchen bed, thank you.”

You sighed with relief once he finally listened. Even though the pressure of his arms around you disappeared, somehow you still felt his warmth, as if it seeped into your battered, bruised flesh. You felt your face getting hot and decided against following that train of thought.

Your heart, for a reason you also chose to ignore, skipped a beat when Orm turned on his heel and walked back to the front door. It took him comparatively less time than when you had to drag your ass to open it a few minutes ago.

But rather than walking outside and disappearing from your life again, Orm only closed the door. And then turned the lock too.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you said, in vain hope that all of this was just a bad dream you'd soon wake up from.

“What a shame,” Orm said with no shame whatsoever in his voice.

“Why are you here? I might be a little late with that question, but I'd still love to know the answer.”

Orm took measured steps to the kitchen table, assessing the seat with the least amount of trash surrounding it, and sat down. He sat upright, posture uncompromised in the face of a backless stool, and folded his hands on the table. How he looked royal surrounded by trash and cold leftovers was beyond you.

“As you have witnessed, thanks to Arthur, after that final battle I got a way out of my old life. I enjoyed it for the most part, and even wandered the surface world for a while. And then I heard about your accident and came to settle my debts.”

“You don't have a debt to me.”

“When I was awaiting sentencing for my crimes, you were the one that took care of me. And not so long ago, you helped Artur break me out of that prison. That alone guarantees my utmost respect.”

“Your debt is paid, you owe me nothing.”

“That's not how it works.”

“I don't need a nurse, especially one who isn’t wearing a sexy costume.”

“I'm afraid that part is not negotiable.”

“Wait.” You squinted, doing your best to focus your thoughts despite a rising migraine. “This cottage is in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest town a few hours on foot and only if you already know the way. And the only people that knew I got… a little roughed up, were those in the Justice League. Did Artur give you a ride here because he felt guilty he didn’t stop that building in Venice from falling on me?”

“Every day I am thankful that I don't know the inner workings of my brother’s mind.”

“So he did.”

You let your head fall back onto the makeshift kitchen-bed. It was too much for you.

You grabbed the pills from your secret under-the-pillow stash of meds and swallowed some painkillers.

“I'm going to kill your brother.”

“May you have more luck than I did. Now, do you even own any clean clothes?”

[lina-lovebug]

New Years Kiss

Orm Marius x fem! reader

_

Orm Marius couldn't admit he liked you.

As the son of King Orvax, he was prideful, cunning, malicious and stubborn. He always knew he'd have to fight for his throne, and because of that reality, he's spiteful.

But he's also Atlannas' son. He never spent much time thinking of how they both cared to the brink of it hurting them, or how his love was displayed in actions whilst hers was in encouraging her son to do better with his newfound freedom. In looks, he is his mothers son, but his pride held onto him steadfast.

"(Y/N) is coming."

"(Y/N)?"

Arthur mused, "oh now someone's paying attention."

Orm said nothing but rolled his eyes. His elder brother, Arthur, had a habit of teasing him. Sure, he had grown used to it and had his own retorts, but it had only gotten worse since Arthur figured out that Orm has a crush.

On a human.

"She's hosting, so you better not fuck this up."

Orm sneered, "what are you talking about?"

"New Years Kiss, little bro!" He went to mess up his hair, but Orm dodged him, "when the clock strikes midnight, humans have a tradition of sharing a kiss," Mera explained to him whilst feeding Jr..

"I don't know why you're telling me this because I have no intentions of courting her-"

"When you sound like that, you don't," Arthur cut in, his voice loud even from the kitchen.

Orm is Atlantean, (Y/N) is human.

Logically, it would never work out.

So why even try?

But even as Orm would remind himself of such a glaring difference, the thought would vanish the moment he saw her. He had seen hundreds of Atlantean women in his time, even mermaids, but somehow they were dull in his eyes compared to her. She wasn't just different because she's human, but she genuinely cared about everyone around her. He first claimed she was strange for giving her food to the homeless, or how she was odd for asking the barista how her day was.

Because it's a pure act of innocence that he hadn't seen in a long time.

And its what drew him in even further.

Despite his claims, Orm still found himself picking off any piece of lint or fur on his clothing and made sure he smelt just like that candle she loved so much.

And a dash of that cologne that Arthur wears.

"Oh, he just keeps growing! Jr, I thought we talked about this. You need to stay cute forever," (Y/N) loved seeing Jr.. Her face lit up in joy anytime she saw the little prince, and Orm felt a pang of jealousy.

Then realized.

He's jealous of a toddler.

"Help yourself! The potato skins are almost done," You had done the most to avoid Orms intense gaze but with those eyes? It was nearly impossible.

"Orm, how was your Christmas?" You asked, a tad bit nervous as he came inside and took his shoes off. He was always respectful of your home.

"Arthur gave me a fish."

"Did you name it?"

He looked at you for a moment, ". . .his name is Triton."

His deadpan voice with that line made you smile, and you brought out a small box from your back.

"What's this?" He asked carefully, watching it in your hand.

"Well since I couldn't make it for Christmas, I thought you could have it today," you explained, a small feeling bubbling in your stomach. You saw it and immediately thought of him, but never saw Orm wear jewelry a day in his life.

"It's for me?" He felt his heart skip a beat as he took it carefully and unwrapped it. It was a small box and went it opened up, his pupils dilated at the gift inside.

"I know how it feels to not be able to go home," you explained as he pulled it out of the box, admiring it, "so I thought you'd like something that reminds you of it."

It's a ring with carefully carved ocean waves along the side. You could relate to Orm in that way - being exiled. Well, it wasn't exactly exile, but it was always one way or the highway with your parents.

Choosing your own happiness came with a cost.

"And it's stainless steel, so it won't tarnish in the water," I added nervously.

"It's beautiful," he finally spoke up, slipping it on his right hand. He met your gaze with a nervous smile, "you didn't have to-"

"(Y/N), I think the potato skins are burning!"

"Fuck!" You shouted, running to the kitchen. Orm admired the ring for a bit longer, enjoying the warmth it brought it him before joining the others.

The evening was quite eventful, to say the least.

Arthur ate half of the food all whilst sharing pictures of Jr., and then Mera had started to feel ill. You apologized if something was overcooked or undercooked, but Mera insisted she had been feeling off all day.

Leaving you and Orm.

Alone.

He sat on the couch like a stuff board, suddenly hyperaware of his own breathing and kept glancing at you across the couch.

"I-"

"What-"

You chuckled, "sorry. You first."

Orm said softly, "it is nothing of importance. Please."

"Want to see the fireworks? It's almost midnight," Orm hadn't heard much of them before being banished to the surface. Only that they were loud and he refused to go outside.

But for you?

He'd say yes.

Since it was cold outside, you grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around you before slipping on shark slippers.

"I'm sorry if this has been a rough New Years Eve. I'm usually a better cook than tonight," you apologized, "I've just been feeling weird lately."

"Is it a human sickness?" Orm questioned, still keeping a small distance from you, for fear his heart might burst from his chest.

You blushed lightly, taking a small step closer to him, "something like that."

"Well. . .I hope you feel better."

Dense as always.

You took the initiative to step closer to him, your hands keeping themselves on the railing of your porch. The wood creaked lightly, and Orm wanted nothing more than to hold your hands.

"Humans get cold easily, correct?" He knew this but wanted to sound dumber for this.

"Yeah, why?" You asked, looking up at him.

He said nothing else but gathered your hands in his, cupping them together. You faced him but looked down, completely sure your face was scarlet.

"Guess I should have worn gloves," you muttered.

"I like it better this way," Orm confessed, meeting your gaze in your own shock.

It's now or never, he thought.

"I hated your kind," what a fucking way to start, "and what you did to the ocean. I wanted to blame all of you, for surely no one was innocent. . .but I have never seen something so pure in their efforts. You are shameless with your kindness, and it used to befuddle me. Why would anyone do things without expectations? Nothing to return back?"

"Orm," you breathed out. Surely he wasn't going to say it? Surely the fucking Prince of Atlantis didn't fall for a land dweller?

"You're incredible," He confessed, a small smile teasing at his lips, "You're the best of your people, and. . .and I. . ." He felt like words couldn't describe what he felt.

So he led with action, and kissed you.

His lips were nothing like you'd imagined. They were soft, and supple against your own, which you were lucky enough to remember your strawberry chapstick today. You leaned further into the kiss, and one hand came up to cradle your cheek. He wanted to continue on, memorize your lips against his - the very euphoria it brought him.

But a loud bang separated you both.

The fireworks started, bright reds, greens, blues - all lighting up the sky. You leaned your head against his chest with a laugh, "that scared the shit out of me."

His arms wrapped around your frame, ensuring your warmth as the colors in the sky danced in his eyes.

"I was your New Years kiss," He said absent-mindedly, and you looked up at him.

"Did Arthur tell you to plan this?"

He chuckled, "oh no. He may be older but he's not that smart."

"You're so mean," you playfully smacked his chest.

"But never to you," He planted a loving kiss on your forehead, silently thanking his brother for having Mera fake her illness so that he could do this.

I'm a fucking dumbass. I wrote this but passed out at 1am 🤦‍♀️

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

lil smutty drabble idea. thots, thots, thots!!! and who knows if i ever manage a full smut fic again so. we'll take what we get, right?

sooo yes! aquaman smut ahead. since broad, tattooed, long-haired men get me going, this is oral fem!receiving. have fun with it lmao. 18+ ofc please proceed with caution

The air feels heavy around you, weighing you down onto the bed as the silence of the room fills with your curses and cries and whimpers and begged sounds of "please" and his name. A sheen layer of sweat coats your chest, your stomach. Your hand digs hard into his hair, cramps into his curls, pulls him closer and closer and closer, even though that has to be impossible. He groans into you, with his tongue buried deep inside and his fingers circling your clit, setting your nerves alight, burning every inch of you.

You feel like you can't breathe. He's eating you out like a man starved, devouring you, feasting on you. He's dragging you towards your third orgasm of the night, just on his tongue, on his fingers, on his tongue and his fingers and his fingers and his tongue.

His palms are splayed firmly against your thighs, grabbing at them, grasping at them, holding them clasped around his head, not letting you move an inch away.

"Arthur", you whimper, catch your lip between your teeth as he hums in response, sends the vibration right through every part of you. You let slip a "fuck", even though you hadn't meant to. But you can hardly think. You can hardly do anything except lie there and take what he's giving you, let him take what he wants to give, give what he wants to take. Your mind is foggy and slow and can't catch up with your mouth, but it doesn't matter because you've already pushed the quintessence of it past your lips.

"Me", you add breathlessly - and just for good measure, you repeat: "Fuck me."

[missingdadneto]

Surfing Session gone wrong

Dad! Orm Marius x Fem Reader x Daughter

[ A/N: I am dying because of the limited Orm fanfics there are, so I decided I wanted to write onee, This is all for fun so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.]

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-wordcount: 1196

After Orm was erased from Atlantis, he no longer lived in the waters, he is now one with the land. The home of the Surface Dwellers, and soon enough it became a land weather he fell in love with Arthurs's best friend, Y/N, a Meta-Human who could adapt to any living circumstances, making her able to breathe in the Waters. She was a part of the Justice League but she rather lives her day-to-day life in her cottage beside the sea, close to Arthur’s house. Orm would spend time with Y/N as much as he could, they would talk for hours, about how Y/N’s interest in the sea rises, as well as how Orm’s interest towards the surface land also rises. 

Soon enough Orm and Y/N were together, and a year later they got married and had their daughter Pearl. She inherits her Dad’s blonde hair, with her vision colors resemble her mother's green hue. Junior on the other hand was Mera and Arthur’s son, he had curly red hair and tan skin. 

Pearl and Junior were as close as ever, their cousin relationship felt as if they were siblings because of the 2 year difference. As soon as they reached their teenage years they would meet up every Saturday morning to go surfing in their Ocean backyard. 

Orm was cooking breakfast as Y/N was reading on the sofa, Pearl came down the stairs and ran to grab her surfing board. She makes a quick stop to hug her Mother as well as to her Father. Orm hugged her back as he kissed his daughter’s head. 

“Be safe, and don’t forget to always watch out for whoever's in the Waters,” Orm warned his daughter every time, every week, and every second she was going in the Ocean. Despite her being half Atlantean. “There are people always hunting for us and if they do-”

“I Know Dad! Besides I’ll always be with Junior so I won’t be alone” Pearl laughed as she went away from the hug. She smiled at her Mother as she opened the back door. “See you guys!”

“Bye Pearl” Both Orm and Y/N smiled as their daughter went to the Waters. 

Pearl ran to Junior as he was already setting up in their usual meet-up spot, they lived quite near to each other as the beach they lived in connects, resulting in them meeting right in the middle.  “Hey, Pearl! I bought this new surfboard and it’s rad I would say” Junior showed off his board to Pearl as she looked somewhat amused. 

“That’s cool Alright, now come on! Let’s go!” She motioned her board towards the bog waves hitting the fine Morning, the sun rises higher and higher as their skins are getting tanner each weekend. 

They surfed as usual, with Junior always making it a competition on who gets the higher waves. Strangely enough, Pearl stopped as she sat on her board to see the corals beneath them. “Junior come look! The corals are more colorful than before…” Pearl spoke as Junior sat on his surfing board as well while looking below. “Hm, that’s weird, yesterday none of them had any colors” Junior confessed as Pearl looked back to him with her eyes rising out of her betrayal state. 

“YOU WENT SURFING YESTERDAY? AND I DIDN’T KNOW!?” She exclaimed with Junior laughing and defending himself, “See in my defense you were not home, YOU WERE OUT!”. Pearl stopped what she was about to say as she looked at the waters once more “Wait look Junior, the water is turning purple”. The color scattered slowly as Arthur and Orm were just about to greet their kids. “HEY PEARL!” Arthur shouted to the two teenagers as Orm followed, “Hi Junior, you guys okay?”

“Hi, Uncle Arthur!” Pearl shouted with Junior following “Hey Uncle Orm!”. “The corals are more colorful but the water is getting purple and it just looks-” Pearl stopped her sentence as he dad shouted to Junior and her. 

“GET OUT NOW!” Orm commanded as he looked at Arthur with a stunned face, Junior and Pearl were confused but they paddled as fast as they could before the purple waters reached their touches. Orm and Arthur swam as fast as they could to grab the surfboards of their child as they pulled them to the shore. 

As soon as they reached the shore Arthur and Orm reached for their child full of worry, Orm hugged Pearl quickly as he looked at her hands and feet that touched the waters. The two Fathers checked for any signs of infection in Junior and Pearl’s skin as Junior cut off the awkward state that they were in. “Uh guys, is everything alright?”

Arthur hugged Junior as tightly as he could and Orm’s arm half hugged Pearl, a relief stance of a Father for their child. “Chemicals have been reaching close to our waters, but we didn’t know that it would be this fast, and thank the Gods it didn’t reach any of you, Atlanteans touching such waters could leave a more damaging stance than humans. Orm sighed as he looked at his daughter as well as Junior beside her. 

“What, who would drop these chemicals?” Junior looked at his Father, Arthur breathed as he shook his head. “We’re going to find out…but let's just go home first and we’ll meet together at lunch okay?” The family agreed as they went back home. 

Orm helped Pearl with her surfboard as he looked at her when they reached home, “Those chemicals….” Orm stopped as Pearl waited for her father's confession “Those chemicals were the same consistency that killed Atlantean children years ago, I just can’t lose you two, I can’t lose you” Y/N opened the door as she heard Orm’s sentence, she looked at Pearl as she also checked any signs of infection in a quick pace. 

“Mom, please! Dad already checked me” Y/N is afraid to lose her only daughter as she looks at Orm. “Oh God, I know you’re fine but I’m just double checking…it’s so close to us we need to be alert sweetie.” 

Pearl shook her head as she washed her foot that was full of sand, “I’ll get ready for lunch, It’s just still a shock” Orm nodded as he smiled slightly, after Pearl went up to her room, Orm and Y/N looked at each other in the backyard, looking at the sea. 

“Have Arthur called for help from Atlantean soldiers to clean the chemical corals?” She looked towards the sea as small waves were being created, somewhat like a small tornado in the waters being summoned by Atlanteans. “I seem like it hun, I was just-” Orm stopped as Y/N’s hand reached Orm’s cheek, “It was this closer to Pearl and Junior, if they have touched the waters they-”

“Shh I know, but Thank God they’re safe now” She smiled as she looked at the waves once more. Orm then leaned to kiss Y/N’s cheek as he went inside to get ready for lunch at Arthur’s house as well. This is going to be a heavy topic for lunch.

[rexit127]

グッドご兄弟

[pedge-page]

Ya'll I saw Aquaman 2 and lemme be real, the first fan fics I wrote were of Patrick Wilson's Orm back in 2019 and that was the theme of my main blog. I got like 3 parts in to a 9 part series and then quit and haven't had the guts to continue writing (also looking back the writing was baaaaaaaaad) but anyway Patrick Wilson is my OG middle aged man crush before Pedge and my word Mr Patrick is the WHOLE package. 50. 6 pack and massive titles. Singing voice of an angle. Fantastic loving husband and one hell of a horror movie actor (thank you James Wan)

I'm also really happy he got TWO shirtless scenes in this movie because he worked so hard for the first one but he said he was disappointed that all you actually got to see was one half of his massive biceps. And then he got even bigger for this role and they gave him his spotlight for that hard work.

[james-stark-the-writer]

alright, we're at the final movie before we're done with the series. it's been a pretty bumpy ride with some incredible highs that represent some of the best of the genre (Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn, the first hour of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice — Ultimate Edition, Aquaman) and some incredibly low lows that are a shitstain on the existence of cinema (Wonder Woman 1984, Suicide Squad (2016)) though a lot of it has largely been pretty good and fun and interesting, like i at least liked 11/15 movies in the DCEU so far, so let's see how this one fares.

now seated for James Wan's Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom (2023). what i know going in: nothing. other than that it was written by the same writer who wrote the first one, and that Jason Momoa has a story credit bc i saw it while checking the watch order. no idea about the story or anything, haven't even really heard or seen people's takes on the movie. so i'm just hoping it's good, and that the franchise goes out on a high, bc it would be really annoying and sad if they had two mediocre movies as the last two entries and the fucking Flash movie had to be the last good one, as much fun as i had with it and as well-written as it is. i'm hoping this is also himbo cinema like the first one tbh. anyway, enough talk, let's get into this.

oh, one last thing: justice for Amber Heard, i hope she's actually in this as she was supposed to be, and that shit article that came out about her being cut from the movie during the trial was a lie. i mean WB stood behind Ezra Miller of all people, and keep paying Gal Gadot money (free Palestine) so i'm hoping she's actually in this. alright, let's get into this.

[doormatty3]

Pushing Further (Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Josh Lambert x Female Reader] [Josh Lambert x You] There is nothing more stressful than moving day - the campus is packed with freshmen and their parents. And you just want some peace and quiet. However, amidst the tumult, a tall, broad, and handsome man grabs your attention that is until he sends you sprawling to the floor. Annoyed you go on with your life and meet Dalton who you soon befriend. When you find out that the stranger is his father - you're doomed. Josh Lambert is everything you want in a man but there are reasons why you should not give in: He's almost two decades your senior, divorced and most importantly your friend's dad So you go out of your way to avoid him and walk the tightrope between attraction and avoidance. That doesn't make him any less hot though - even more when you discover that the attraction is mutual. OR: And they were friends - except you fucked his dad.

Wordcount: 7,134

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues

A/N: There is a criminally small amount of Josh Lambert ffs, so I decided to change that

ALSO: Insidious 5 plot (Josh Lambert) >>>>

You hate move-in day. 

The college campus swirls with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Freshmen, wide-eyed and eager, navigate through the labyrinth of unfamiliar buildings, their parents hovering nearby, taking in the scenery, a mix of pride and reluctance in their gaze as they prepare to part with their newly-minted scholars.

The sun bathes the bustling scene in its warm rays, transforming the campus into a vibrant panorama. The old grey stone building looms tall and resolute against the canvas of the sky. It wears the patina of years with a dignified charm, its weathered facade a testament to the countless stories etched into its walls.

As you observe this annual rite of passage, a sense of nostalgia mingles with a tinge of wistfulness. Your own move-in day, with its mix of excitement and trepidation, feels like a distant reverie. Now a senior, the campus teeming with eager newcomers stirs conflicting emotions. The excitement and youthful energy are heartening, yet the multitude of people and the bustling activity feel almost too much, too overwhelming.

You sit at a secluded spot beneath the sprawling canopy of one of the many trees that grace the campus. From this vantage point, you observe the ebb and flow of people, hesitant to venture into the dorms that will surely be crowded.

The leaves above gently rustle in the breeze as you sit, absorbing the sights and sounds of the day. 

Your attention is drawn to a cluster of fellow students distributing flyers, unmistakably advertising a fraternity event that you have never attended and will never attend - the frat boys just creep you out. Self-assured and arrogant has never been your type to hang out with.

However, amidst the lively scene, your gaze lingers on a lanky young man strolling by, seemingly impervious to the flyers being thrust into the hands of passersby. 

Artist, you think. Everything about him just extrudes an artistic flair and you’re sure that your assumption would be right if you were to ask him.

You watch him stride away from the frat boys and you can’t help but think that he made a good choice by not interacting with them.

Your attention shifts from the bustling crowd to the presence of a man making his way down the path. Intrigued, you furrow your brow, momentarily curious about whose father he is. Your eyes linger on him, drawn by a magnetic quality.

As he walks, you find it hard not to notice his striking appearance. Despite the rough edges, there’s a rugged handsomeness about him. He is tall, with broad shoulders and his short, wispy light brown hair catches the sunlight, adding a subtle sparkle to his presence. A scruffy stubble grazes his face, enhancing that rugged charm.

Your gaze can’t help but follow the flex of his muscles as he carries a considerable amount of stuff for his child. The hot summer day is a blessing, you think, since it prompted him to don a tight polo shirt and shorts. You silently appreciate the view - the way his biceps and triceps tense with each step, and the way the shirt accentuates the breadth of his shoulders and chest.

Silently observing, you witness him engaging in conversation with the fraternity members, taking one of their flyers, presumably for his child. You can see him being a frat boy in his younger years - he certainly has the looks. 

As he walks away, the flyer securely in his grasp, your eyes remain fixed on him. The contrast between his mature, composed stature and the frat boys is striking. His steps are deliberate, and everything about his presence seems secure and strong.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you watch him and you’re somewhat surprised - even if also glad - that he doesn’t acknowledge your burning gaze since you’re practically undressing him.

Part of you hopes that you’ll see him more often on the campus and that that won’t be the last time your paths cross - maybe you’ll be able to strike up a conversation with him.

Your gaze lingers in the direction where the broad man disappeared and you find yourself momentarily lost. The vibrant energy of those who come after him seems to pale in comparison, they fail to capture your interest and it begins to feel boring.

With a sigh, you stretch your limbs, the pull of your muscles urging you to stand up. The prospect of a quieter atmosphere within the dorms becomes increasingly tempting, and hope that the flow of people there will have dulled. 

_____

Rounding the corner and approaching your dorm, you eagerly open the door, hoping for a reprieve from the bustling crowds. However, your optimism is quickly diminished as you find the space still densely packed with a mix of eager freshmen, parents, and the occasional irritated senior, annoyed at the number of people - a hive of activity and a melting pot of an array of voices.

Undeterred, you press forward, determined to make your way to your room despite the persistent throng. 

Navigating through the diverse sea of faces you make your way down the corridor. The air is charged with a blend of anticipation, familial warmth, and a touch of exasperation from those who had hoped for a quieter return to their familiar living spaces.

The sounds of conversations, laughter, and occasional sighs create a lively symphony that fills the air, providing a vivid backdrop to the varied emotions playing out in the cramped dormitory corridor. 

Turning another corner, your curiosity is piqued, and you slow your pace to observe the activity around you. As you walk past a series of doors, your attention is drawn to the scenes unfolding in each room - freshmen unpacking with enthusiasm and parents offering last-minute advice.

Lost in this observational moment, you’re caught off guard as someone collides with you, sending you sprawling to the floor suddenly. A breath escapes you and you blink disoriented.

In the abrupt stillness that follows, you glance up to see the source of the collision, and to your surprise, it’s the handsome man from earlier. In the fleeting seconds your eyes lock, and you notice the striking shade of blue in his gaze and the sadness that seems to emanate from him.

Rather than offering a hand to help you up, he mumbles a quick apology and resumes his stride without missing a beat. A sense of frustration flares within you - as handsome as he is, his manners are clearly lacking.

Arsehole, you think as. you gather yourself from the floor with a shake of your head.

The brief encounter leaves you with a mix of bewilderment and a lingering sense of irritation as you make your way to your room.

______

Professor Armagan’s voice reverberates through the expansive art studio, commanding the attention of her assembled freshman class as she introduces you. 

“Today, I want you to meet one of our seniors—she’s really gifted, and it’s important to me that you get to know more students of mine,“ she declares, her enthusiasm evident in the cadence of her words.

You raise your hand in acknowledgement, a subtle greeting to the newcomers, and take a moment to let your eyes wander across the room. The art studio, a sanctuary of creativity, is filled with eager faces, each potentially harbouring a unique artistic voice.

As your gaze travels through the room, you spot the lanky boy from the first day. 

Ha, I knew it, a quiet sense of validation washes over you - your intuition about him being an artist appears spot-on and judging by the strokes on his canvas, a talented one at that.

The lesson unfolds with a straightforward tempo, and your role is mainly confined to sharing insights about the college and providing a glimpse into how art functions in Professor Armagan’s class. The information is delivered efficiently, and you find yourself relieved as the session concludes.

“Hi, I’m Dalton,“ the lanky boy strides up to you, extending a hand in greeting.

You reciprocate with a friendly smile, taking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Dalton,“ 

As your eyes fall upon Dalton’s pencil drawing, you can’t help but offer a genuine compliment. “Wow, this is really good. You’ve got some serious talent,“ you remark, appreciating the skill evident in his work.

Dalton’s face lights up with a grateful smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that,“ he replies, the sincerity in his tone confirming your initial impression of him as a genuinely nice individual, and you find yourself thinking that Dalton is the kind of person you could see yourself being friends with. 

“You have to work on your disguise though - I could tell from a mile away that you chose the art program and was just wondering whether you made it to her class,“ with a playful grin, you jest to Dalton.

Dalton chuckles at your remark, and there’s a warmth in his response, “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious, huh? Can’t hide the artist in me, I suppose.“

As you both exit the art studio together, the door softly closes behind you, the ambient sounds of the campus filling the air. The sunlight casts a warm glow over the pathway as you begin to make your way through the bustling campus, the occasional laughter and conversations of students blending into the lively background.

Turning to Dalton, you initiate a conversation about his college experience so far. 

“So, how are you finding college so far? How’s it treating you?“ you inquire, a casual smile accompanying your words.

Dalton reflects, “It’s been an interesting ride. Meeting new people, navigating through classes, and, of course, diving into the art program. It’s everything I hoped for, honestly.“

The two of you continue to stroll, the campus unfolds around you. 

Dalton shares more about his classes and the artistic projects he’s eager to explore, and you reciprocate with your own anecdotes.

Continuing your conversation, you find a natural segue to inquire about Dalton’s residence on campus. “By the way, which dorm are you in?“ you ask curiously with a casual tone.

Dalton smiles, “Oh, I’m in the last one down the path. How about you?“

As he reveals his dormitory, you can’t help but feel a spark of excitement. “No way! Me too,“ you respond, a genuine grin spreading across your face.

Dalton’s eyes light up with joy, and you pick up on the enthusiasm that suggests he might not have a large circle of friends. 

He suggests, “We should totally hang out sometime. And you’ve got to meet my roommate, Chris – she’s really cool.“

You quirk an eyebrow and playfully tease Dalton, “Rooming with a girl, huh? The administration must have a wild sense of humour.“

Dalton chuckles, “Yeah, it was a bit of a surprise for both of us. Chris is fine, though. We make it work.“

You share a laugh, the notion of unexpected room assignments becoming a shared source of amusement. “Well, I’m definitely looking forward to meeting this mysterious Chris. Maybe the three of us could grab a coffee or something,“ you suggest, already envisioning potential hangout sessions.

Dalton’s eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm. “That sounds awesome! Chris will love it. She’s been itching to make some new friends around here.“

“How about this? There’s this amazing little coffee shop I’ve been a regular at since my first year here. It’s got this cosy vibe, and I think you and Chris would really enjoy it,“ you suggest, your enthusiasm echoing through your words.

Dalton’s eyes light up even more, his excitement matching yours. “That sounds awesome! I’m in, and I’m sure Chris will love it too.“

As you and Dalton walk through the dormitory halls, he suddenly comes to a stop and points to a door. “This is my room,“ he says with an appreciative smile, gratitude evident in his eyes.

You return the smile and quip, “Well, look at that! I guess I’ve been on the unofficial welcome committee. My room’s just further down the hall.“

Dalton laughs, appreciating the light-hearted exchange. “Thanks for walking with me. Do you wanna stop by tomorrow? I’d introduce you to Chris and we can get that coffee?“

“Absolutely, sounds like a plan,“ you respond. “See you tomorrow, dude,“ you add with a nod and a parting wave, continuing down the hall to your own room.

_____

The next day, you make your way to Dalton and Chris’s room, thankful to do something today. The familiar dormitory halls lead you to their door, and you give a light knock before it swings open.

Dalton greets you with a welcoming smile. “Hey! Glad you could make it. This is Chris,“ he introduces, gesturing towards a short, black girl with braided hair, vibrant clothes, and a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you! Dalton’s mentioned you,“ Chris says and extends her hand, you grab it and shake it.

Upon entering the room, your eyes are immediately drawn to Dalton’s paintings adorning the walls. “These are really nice,“ you remark, genuinely appreciating the artistic talent displayed.

Dalton beams with gratitude. “Thanks,“ he responds, a hint of pride in his voice.

As the three of you settle into conversation, you decide to delve into a bit of small talk. “So, Chris, do you also major in art?“ you inquire, curious about her academic pursuits.

Chris chuckles, her demeanour warm and friendly. “Nope, not at all. I’m actually a math major. Total left brain-right brain dynamic we’ve got going on here,“ she says with a playful twinkle in her eye.

As the conversation flows, a sudden knock interrupts the camaraderie. Chris and Dalton exchange confused glances, both wearing expressions of mild bewilderment. “Were you expecting someone?“ Chris asks, looking at Dalton.

Dalton shakes his head, equally puzzled. “No, I have no idea. Were you?“

“Nah,“ Chris mirrors the headshake.

The room falls into a brief silence as Dalton opens the door, revealing a man standing on the threshold. Dalton’s confusion is palpable as he utters, “Dad?“

A breath hitches in your throat as recognition sets in. It’s him - the handsome man from your first day, the same person who unintentionally sent you sprawling to the floor and didn’t have the decency to help you up. The lingering ache in your hip serves as a constant reminder of that memorable encounter.

“Hey. Sorry for the surprise visit. I was in the area and thought I’d drop by and talk to Dalton,“ he says, his eyes widening a bit as they lock onto yours. Recognition flickers across his face. “I’m Josh, by the way.“

Holding his gaze, you find yourself momentarily captivated, drinking in the details like a starved soul. His blue eyes, once a passing detail, now reveal a depth that draws you in. The slight curl of his hair at the nape of his neck and around his ears adds a touch of casual charm, accentuated by the scruff of his beard that now appears more prominent. Your gaze appreciatively lingers on the nuances, savouring the details.

Your appreciative gaze shifts downward, taking in the way his dark blue, tight dress jacket with rolled-up sleeves complements the form-fitting light blue t-shirt beneath. The fabric spans deliciously over his broad shoulders, chest, and the little tummy he has, accentuating his physique effortlessly. It makes you want to be under him, your bodies pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly with his strong body - you’re sure that he’s soft in just the right places while being muscular and powerful.

The spell of fascination is abruptly broken as Chris, standing next to you, coughs purposefully to snap you out of your trance. The sudden interruption startles both you and Josh and you tear your eyes away from him. 

You can’t shake the feeling that the attraction is not one-sided. Josh’s lingering gaze and the subtle shift in his expression suggest that he, too, was captivated.

The realization that the attraction might be mutual, even in this unexpected and somewhat inappropriate context, leaves a tinge of discomfort. Josh is not just a stranger; he’s Dalton’s dad, Dalton who is your friend. You silently hope that Dalton didn’t pick up on it. 

Meeting Dalton’s gaze, you instantly sense that hope is futile - his raised eyebrow speaks volumes,

Josh clears his throat and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, your eyes involuntarily follow the movement, captivated by the subtle gestures. 

For a brief moment, you indulge in the thought of his lips on yours, and his tongue on you. You wonder, if the stubble would scratch you, leaving marks on your skin so you could remember and feel him days later.

“Well, I should get going—I didn’t want to interrupt you,“ Josh says, directing his gaze at you again. “It was nice to meet you.“

As Josh offers a tight-lipped smile and exits the room. Once he’s gone, both Dalton and Chris turn their attention toward you.

“What was that?“ Chris’s inquiry comes with a hint of humour.

“Could you not undress him with your eyes next time - he’s my dad,“ Dalton says to you and you feel your cheeks heating up.

“I’m sorry, man,“ you mumble, a tinge of embarrassment colouring your words, “It isn’t my fault he’s hot.“

_____

The next time you encounter him, you’re on your way to your dorm as Josh is just leaving.

“Hey, Josh,“ you greet him with a bright smile.

He responds with a big, bright, and goofy grin etched on his handsome face. You can’t help but think that he looks good when he smiles. 

“Hey, it’s nice to see you again,“ he greets you, his eyes sweeping over your form, lingering longer on the neckline of your tight shirt than is appropriate. 

“I’m sorry for running you over when he first met,“ he starts, scratching over the hair on the back of his head, “ Or at least just walking away and not helping you up again.“

You reach out to place a reassuring hand on the skin of his arm. Intending for it to be a featherlight, brief touch, as soon as your fingertips trace over his arm, it feels like electricity is being passed through you. 

Josh, in response to the touch, swallows heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a visible display of tension. Instead of pulling away, he surprises both of you by taking your hand in his. Intertwining your fingers, he begins to rub soothing circles over the back of your hand with his thumb.

You notice the size of his hands—big and fitting for a man of his stature.

At that moment, it feels as though time stands still. Both of you just stand there, locked in a gaze, drinking in each other’s presence. 

As he moves a bit closer, you become acutely aware of him, and his scent engulfs you like a private cocoon. It’s uniquely him - a blend of cologne and something inherently Josh. The cologne carries a woody fragrance, specifically dry wood, with nuanced undertones of sandalwood and amber.

The sun casts shadows on his face and accentuates the contours of his features. You observe that the short beard framing his face is threaded with salt-and-pepper hair. The interplay of light and shadows makes him more than just attractive—it renders him captivating. 

His blue eyes, sparkling in the sunlight, reveal a depth that draws you in. They are akin to fire in water, reflecting a passionate intensity that burns within the warm sun-lit undercurrents of his gaze. 

The healthy shine of his hair catches your attention, and you can’t help but notice the vibrancy it adds to his overall appearance. Your fingers itch to push the wayward locks behind his ear again, to feel if it is as soft as it looks.

The enchanting moment is abruptly shattered as someone carelessly bumps into you, jolting you out of the reverie. In the sudden disturbance, Josh releases your hand.

“I-,“ he clears his throat, the remnants of the charged moment still lingering, “should get going.“

There’s a palpable pause, a shared awareness of the disrupted connection. At that moment, you sense that he, too, is affected by the sudden intrusion into the private bubble you unintentionally created. The unspoken understanding between you deepens, and as he looks at you with an intensity that mirrors your own feelings, you find yourself nodding in agreement.

As Josh begins to move away, you’re left standing there, your gaze fixed on him. Your eyes trail along his departing figure, captivated by the sight of his muscular back.

_____

The inappropriate thoughts about Josh weigh heavily on your conscience, creating a turbulent storm of emotions within you that refuses to settle.  Part of you acknowledges the relief of not having seen him in quite some time, while another part feels a twinge of sadness - There’s an undeniable sense of loss or longing; you want to see him again. 

But you cherish your friendship with Dalton and don’t want to jeopardise it. It feels like you walk on a tightrope between desire and loyalty, especially because you’re fairly certain that this perpetual tension will snap at some point. So you find yourself consciously avoiding Dalton and Chris’s room. The fear of running into his handsome father fuels you, in particular, because he seems to make frequent visits - and the question lingers in the front of your mind: does he purposefully stop by so often, driven by a desire to see you?

Your gaze drifts around your dorm room, and you spot a sketchbook that isn’t yours. A moment of realization hits you like a sudden jolt—shit, that’s Dalton’s. He’s forgotten it again.

With the certainty that both Dalton and Chris are currently in class, you entertain the idea of stopping by to return the forgotten sketchbook. The timing seems opportune—no risk of encountering them, and by extension, no chance of a surprise visit from Josh, Dalton’s father.

The thought forms a plan in your mind, and you decide to seize the moment. The dormitory halls echo with quiet solitude as you make your way to Dalton and Chris’s room.

The door swings open, and to your surprise, the room isn’t as empty as you expected. There, standing in the middle of the room is Josh,

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes with him, and an involuntary thought escapes your mind— Jesus, your memories really didn’t do his handsomeness justice.

You find yourself taking in the details—the way the room frames him, the play of light accentuating the contours of his features, and the way his presence seems to fill the space.

All the subtle nuances of his appearance, from the slightly tousled hair to the hint of scruff on his jaw, draw your attention. His blue eyes, usually a captivating shade, seem to shine darker than normal, adding a layer of intensity to the moment.

“I didn’t expect you here,“ the words escape your mouth, almost breathlessly, and you curse the involuntary reaction you have to Josh.

Instead of responding immediately, he looks you over, his gaze lingering on your form. Then, he opens his mouth and says, “You’ve been avoiding me.“ 

It’s not a question; it’s a statement, and it holds a truth you can’t deny. You have been avoiding him, but it’s more about not trusting yourself in his presence than anything else.

As you remain silent, Josh takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand lands on the wood of the door, near your head, applying gentle pressure. The muscles in his chest and arms tense as he leans against the door, closing it with a quiet click. 

Instead of moving away, he keeps standing there, effectively boxing you in between the door and his body.

He maintains an unbroken gaze on you, his eyes locked onto yours. The close proximity allows you to observe the intricate details of his eyes. They are not uniformly blue; instead, there’s a fascinating interplay of shades. A ring of light blue delicately encircles the pupil, creating a mesmerizing gradient with the darker blue that surrounds it. The hues blend seamlessly, forming a captivating dance of colours within the confines of his gaze.

The fragile silence hangs in the air, and a subtle fear lingers—fear that any spoken word or sudden movement might shatter the enchanting spell woven between you and Josh. In the cocoon of quietude, you choose to remain still, each heartbeat echoing in the confined space, cautious not to disrupt the delicate equilibrium of the moment. 

You can’t help but feel lazy arousal starting to pool through your veins, fueled by Josh.

“Tell me to stop,“ Josh speaks, his words almost a whisper, “tell me to walk away.“

The quiet plea hangs in the air, revealing the internal struggle he faces. He’s your friend’s dad, divorced, and almost two decades your senior—valid reasons to resist the magnetic pull drawing you both in. Yet, in this charged moment, those rational arguments seem to lose their significance in the haze of him that clouds your thoughts. 

Your eyes flicker to his lips, and as quietly as he had spoken, you finally respond, “Kiss me.“

And so he does. 

Josh’s lips descend to yours, capturing you in a kiss that feels both urgent and consuming. His warm hand gently cups your cheek, adding a tender touch to the intensity of the moment. It’s a kiss that feels like an act of hunger as if he’s been starved and you are the only remedy to satiate it.

Your hands find their way to his strong shoulders, instinctively pulling him closer as you reciprocate the kiss. The texture of his lips against yours becomes a tactile language, each brush and press conveying a depth of emotion words might fall short of capturing. You feel his stubble scrape over your skin. The taste of his kiss is a fusion of want and need, a shared desire that resonates between you, eclipsing any reservations that linger in the back of your mind. 

Josh breaks the kiss, and both of you are left breathless. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,“ he confesses, his voice laden with a mixture of desire and relief.

He starts leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, and you laugh quietly in response. “Well, I have an idea,“ you playfully remark and reminisce of when you first met him - you wanted to do that since then. 

“Yeah, tell me,“ Josh smiles, his hand finding its way into your hair, tightening its grip. He is looking directly into your eyes smouldering blue burning into you as he leans down to bite into your bottom lip lightly.

“Josh,“ was all you managed to say in a breathy voice.

His lips move to your jaw, leaving soft kisses and sucking a mark into the soft skin of your neck, letting his teeth nip over the spot before moving on. You let out a moan and dig your fingers into his shoulders, before loosening your hold and roaming his whole back. You feel the strength of his muscles between your hands as well as the heat he emanates. 

Not being able to contain yourself, you are desperate for some skin so you lift up the hem of his shirt and slip your hands under it, feeling his skin. 

With a groan Josh presses his hips into yours, making you feel the hardness of the erection he is sporting. You grind against it as you feel your heart beating fast in your chest.

Josh pulls back, his eyes dark and glinting with arousal. 

He slips his thick fingers under the thin straps of your dress and pulls them over your shoulders, leaving burning pathways in the wake of his touch. At that moment, you’re so glad you decided to wear a dress. And you second that again, when he tucks down the upper part of your dress, exposing your breasts to his nimble fingers and hungry eyes.

Almost instantly his hands find their way to your tits and you groan when he rubs the pad of his thumb over your nipple. 

Josh takes his sweet time exploring you and finding out which sound he can wring from you by just his hands touching your chest. Deliberately, he flicks his forefinger against the hardened bud before capturing it between two fingers, rolling and tugging on it.

His lips skate over your collarbones, nibbling and sucking leaving more marks in his wake. 

Something shortcircuits in your brain when you notice how his hands span over your ribs, making you feel fragile beneath him. And in that moment you want nothing more than for him to just lift you and impale you on him, manipulate you to his liking until the only thing you can remember is his name. 

You hook your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips against yours, wishing that he wasn’t wearing anything. You feel the hardness of his cock pressed against your belly as you grind down on him. 

When his lips and fingers leave your skin you almost whine at the loss of contact but Josh wraps an arm around your back, pulling you flush against his thick frame before covering your mouth with his own again, possessing you.

He presses one of those strong thighs between your legs, pressing it against your clothed cunt, locking you against the wood of the door again. Without a coherent thought, you moan into his mouth as the rough fabric of his jeans rubs over your wet pussy.

Frantic your hands undo the belt and open his jeans, pushing it down, before tugging on his shirt, desperate for more skin. Josh takes pity on your frazzled attempts and takes off his shirt, pulling it over his head as well as letting his jeans fall to the floor with a quiet thud. 

His skin is damp, a thin sheen of sweat giving it a dewy glow that catches the light of the room. Your eyes trace over him appreciatively, taking in the details that make him undeniably attractive as he just watches you with dark, hooded eyes. 

The rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by a scattering of sparse chest hair, draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on the muscles that play beneath the softness of his belly. In this moment, you find that he is a perfect harmonious mix between being ripped and soft.

Driven by a need to touch - to feel - him your fingers trace a delicate path across Josh’s chest, shoulders, and belly, exploring the terrain of his skin with a gentle curiosity. 

As your fingertips navigate the expanse of his chest, you feel his breath and breathing heart, a subtle rhythm syncing with the beating of your own heart. The transition to his shoulders unveils the sinewy strength that lies beneath, a testament to the physicality that drew you in. Moving lower, your touch encounters the softness of his belly, tracing the trail of hair that leads into his briefs. 

Without warning you cup his hard cock that’s straining against the fabric of his underwear, making him groan, a deep sound that reverberates through his chest. 

Josh wraps his arms around you, lifting you up as he dips his head to kiss you. He bites your lip, the sharp nip of his teeth making you whimper into his mouth. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass as he carries you, prompting you to wrap your legs around his thick middle.

With one fluid movement, he sets you down on the desk, dimly you register the books on the table being swept to the floor. He slots himself between your legs as he tangles his hand in your hair to tilt your head back to force you to meet his gaze.

“If you want to stop - at any point - you tell me,“  Josh’s voice is a quiet, husky murmur, the darkness in his eyes reflecting the pleasure shared between you. His lips, now deliciously pinked from your kisses, hover close.

Wordlessly, you nod. In this moment, he embodies everything you desire and more, a captivating presence that has ensnared your senses. If this is your only chance at tasting him, feeling him, having you - you’ll gladly take it. If not somewhat sad, because you’re sure you will not be able to forget him.

He captures your lips in another short kiss while hitching your dress up higher. Josh’s hand is between your legs now, rubbing one finger over your clothed cunt. You just know that the cotton has to be damp, that he now feels how much you want this - want him.

When he applies more pressure, scraping over your clit you arch your back into his touch. His eyes are on yours, drinking in your every reaction. 

Josh repeats the act and you rake your fingers over his back so hard you’re certain to have marked him. It’s making him moan, low, deep and frantic as if he’s enjoying this as much as you. Your entire skin fizzles with electricity upon his reaction.

In one fluid motion, he seats himself beneath your things and yanks your ass off the edge of the desk. His fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he pulls them down, off your legs.

Just the sight of Josh between your legs edges you closer to an orgasm. His big hands are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you open for him. If you had to describe the look in his eyes you don’t know if another word than feral was fitting. 

He makes you want to paint him, to capture this moment for eternity, with his messy hair and dark eyes.

Your head falls back and every thought becomes impossible when he presses a featherlight kiss on your clit, the stubble prickling like electricity. You cry out when he draws a circle around it with his wet tongue.

“You need to be quiet, sweetheart,“ he says, voice low, rough and deep. “Wouldn’t want anyone to come in here, right?“

You can’t do much other than nod - you know that you can try but you also surely know that you will fail.  

As soon as Josh presses his palm across your stomach to hold you down and tastes your cunt with a long lick you lose that train of thought again. 

He builds you up with a slow and dexterous tongue, determined to make you cum beneath him. Your back arches off the desk, only held down by his strong arm as you whimper. 

You feel your cunt clenching and you’re sure that you’re staining the desk with your wetness. 

Arousal crashes through your vein and you feel yourself getting closer - and he apparently also does because he hooks his arms around you, to pull you closer to his mouth. 

A curse rolls over your tongue when he sinks two of his thick fingers into your cunt, curling them inside your so you spasm around him.

While you know that your orgasm is drawing closer it still hits you like a freight train. The mixture of his fingers and his mouth on your clit brings you over the edge. 

You cry out and your back arches off the desk, fire pulsing through you. Josh’s mouth is still on you, licking through your wet cunt, catching every drop. You feel like your muscles are locking up and the fire has extended to your lungs as he continues to work you through it. Only when you whimper against him, overstimulated he pulls back. 

Josh’s neck and chin are coated in your wetness, glistening in the light of the room. A blinding smile is etched across his features, reaching his eyes. The pleasure radiating from him is palpable and genuine, he likes how you react to him.

Your fingers instinctively dig into the firm contours of Josh’s shoulders, a desperate longing urging him to rise and meet your lips. In response, his strong arms envelop you, pulling you irresistibly close as your mouths meld together in a fervent kiss. You taste the salty tang of yourself on his tongue. 

His hard cock is pressed against your bare cunt and you grind down on him, making him groan into the kiss. Just from feeling him, you know that he’s big and you ache to get your hands on him.

You reach into his briefs, following the trail of hair. Josh’s cock is thick and twitching in your palm as you smear precum over him to jerk him off easier. 

God, he’s going to split you in half, make you burn from the stretch as he forces you to accept every thick, hot inch of him.

Driven by need you push his underwear over his hips, mesmerizes as you finally see him naked. His dick stands proud and hard in neatly trimmed pubic hair. You wrap your hand around him again, tracing the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. Josh jerks his hips into your hand and you wet your lips as you clench around nothing. 

It’s almost surreal, the realization that this handsome and gorgeous man is as captivated by you as you are by him and you itch to return the favour and take him into your mouth to see what sounds you can elicit from him.

But when you show signs of slipping from the desk he stops you with a long-fingered hand on your thigh. 

“You can return the favour next time, we have to be quick,“ Josh’s voice is husky and dark as his eyes are on you intently.

Next time? Fuck, yes, you really hope that there will be a next time because you don’t think you can get enough of him.

His arms wrap around you again to claim your mouth before lifting you up from the desk. The dig of his fingers into your skin lingers are you just hope that they will bruise. He walks both of you over to a bed in the room, laying you down on your back.

Josh is a solid form above you, chest heaving as he braces his weight on his elbows. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, before licking a stripe along the length of your pulse.  

The feeling of his weight pressing you into the bed with his bare chest on yours is indescribable. The soft swell of his stomach against yours is heavenly s you claw into his shoulders and back to pull him further on you,

“Fuck me, please,“ your voice wrecked and hoarse as you buck against him, feeling his hard dick press against you.

He pushes his cock against your cunt, nudging your clit with every stroke, just slicking himself with your wetness. 

You whimper when you feel the tip of his broad dick slide into you, keeping it buried inside you, “Josh, please .“

Josh takes pity on you. He leans forwards and his eyes are on yours as he fills you with short and shallow thrusts, inching his cock further and further inside you. Your eyes fall closed at the overwhelming feeling of him in your cunt and he stops again.

Your eyes fly open when his hand finds its way around your throat, wordlessly telling you to keep your gaze locked on him. The slow drag of his dick elicits a high-pitched whine from you.

When his hips are flush against yours, he stills, giving you time to get used to him.

“Just like that…. You’re doing so well,“ his voice is low as he praises you. 

The combination of the barely contained edge in his voice and the praise causes you to clench around him, making Josh groan. You’re drunk off him, off how you feel every ridge, every vein against the wall of your cunt. 

When he pulls back and only leaves the tip inside you again, you whine. That is soon replaced by a loud moan as he slams his whole length into you. 

He feels impossibly deep in your cunt, like he’s carving himself inside with every slap, stroke and thrust of his hips. There is nothing you can do but lay there and take it.

With every thrust, he almost growls into your ear as he possesses you. The slap of his balls against you and the wet squelch of your cunt is loud in the room as he continues to wreck you.

The head of his cock drags over that spot that makes you see stars and you twitch and jerk against him, completely overwhelmed by him. 

You hiss when he reaches between you to press the pad of his thumb against your sensitive clit. He flicks it against it before starting to rub small circles that make you quiver under him and clench around him. 

Josh’s face is the epitome of concentration as he drives his dick inside you again and again, his brow furrowed as he fucks the both of you towards your high. 

You scream when you come. Blinding pleasure shoots through your veins, expanding from inside you and engulfing you. His lips come down to kiss you, capturing you in a feverish and feral kiss. Your teeth click together as he devours you and continues to slam into you. 

With a load groan, he pushes into you as deep as possible, clutching you tightly as his hips jerk and he spills inside you.  

He kisses you, hard and short while he keeps his hips flush with yours as he rocks them, milking himself dry. 

It feels almost soft when he pushes your damp hair from your face and cups your cheek as you catch your breath. The kiss you share is lazy and soft, your hands comb through his hair lightly. You wrap your arms around him tightly, holding him close and savouring the feeling of his body on yours. 

The post-orgasmic bliss disperses suddenly when you feel him soften inside you, his cum leaking onto the bed.

“Shit, Josh,“ panic is evident in your voice, “Get up.“ 

The realisation hits you, that Josh just ruined you in the room of his son  - on his desk and bed. You know that you can’t pretend that this never happened, not when you know how perfect he feels inside you or how he looks when he comes.

His quiet laugh irritates you at first but your eyes flutter closed again when he presses his lips against yours. 

“It will be fine,“ Josh’s blue eyes shine bright as he traces your lips with his thumb, “Let’s get cleaned up first. And then I’d like to take you out for some food.“

“Yeah… yeah,“ you start, a smile on your features, “I’d like that.“

[whamicon]

amber heard 🤍🏹☁️

[lina-lovebug]

"What were you thinking, boy?! She's a Goddess, and not just any Goddess! Poseidons wife!"

"You don't think I know that?!" Orm shouted at his father. Orm had never dared to raise his voice at Orvax, but he was whipped.

In love.

"You will start a war," He pointed in his sons face, "a war we cannot win."

"She wants to leave him. She's-"

Orvax laughed in his sons face, "you think she has a choice? Zeus cheats on Hera any chance he gets, yet she has not left his side. Why do you think that?"

Orm had no answer.

Orvax hissed in his sons ear, "you are property. There is no "I" when you wed a God. She will stay with Poseidon if she wants to live, and you will stay far away from her."

Orm tried puffing out his chest in defiance as he let an angry breath out, "you won't make me do this. I won't leave her."

"You forget yourself, Orm," Orvax told his son, "we are Kings because of them. You may rule the seas once I am dead, but Poseidon controls the very movement of every wave. Her children may love their mother, but if word of this gets out, we won't be Kings. Poseidon will make you beg him to kill you."

Just testing out the waters for my potential Orm Marius x Amphitrite (Poseidons wife) fanfic.

Edit: first chapter is up

[sunflower-of-versace]

Aquaman the Lost Kingdom

[angelicwolf98]

I REALLY NEED MORE ORM MARIUS FICS! I am like hyper fixated on him right now and I feel like I’ve already read all the available fics on him, twice!! I’m like super fidgety because I don’t know what to do now that I can’t find any more fics! Please, if anyone has recommendations for Orm fics or knows a blog that writes for him, please let me know!!! 😭🥺

[starpunz]

“Every second we waste is another second Aquaman gets to live.”

Utilizing the curse he was given from the sea to his advantage, he traded his eyes for the sake of having power to kill a god, Aquaman. His power, unbeknownst to everyone, dwells from the heating depths of the trenches under Atlantis, with his intellect, he was capable of figuring out the magic behind the process as mere science, knowing everything had a solution.

His corals are integrated into his skin as a cooling system for his lasers, his hair allowing adaptations in his skin to the environment, effectively camouflaging.

His fins are tailor made to withstand the pressure of the ocean currents pushing against him, his entire suit is a testimony to human adaption, all for hatred.

(A design for Suicide Squad: X, a dnd me and my friends are doing)

[alive-sum]

Aurora and Emperor