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thequeenofcurses · 23 days ago

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Happy Birthday, Sylus 🖤❤️

cw: smut, birthday sex in the forest, kinda public but not really, forced orgasm?, sylus is sylus, im still learning how to write smut better, bear with me, didn't fully proofread so i can post in time whoops T...T wk: 3250

kinda based on the new sylus: where hearts live card, so spoiler alert?

lads masterlist read on ao3

Sweet Like Sugar

Three long hours of driving out of Linkon and you finally arrived at Sylus’ surprise birthday location. Thankfully, the trip wasn’t a complete bore, with Sylus’ constant quips and questions about where you two were going for the day.

You made the cutest “happy birthday” button, a hand drawn chibi of Sylus with a tiny little crow that he proudly wore.

The national wildlife park entrance was bustling with cars, yet Sylus being the VIP he always is cut right through to the front, waving his black card at the attendant.

“Welcome, Mr. Che,” the attendant stamped the passes you were holding and waved you two in. “And happy birthday sir!”

Once you two traded Sylus’ elite convertible for the land rover, today’s adventure truly began.

The sun dappled through the dense canopy as you and Sylus cruise slowly along the gravel path, windows rolled down, the scent of wildflowers and pine mingling in the fresh air. The wildlife park is quiet, tucked far enough into nature that all you can hear are birds, wind, and the crunch of tires over fallen leaves. No tour guides. No barriers. Just you, Sylus, and the wild.

The drive had started like any other: casual laughter, the occasional startled gasp when a bird flew too close to the windshield, and Sylus’s quiet hums syncing to the low thrum of the engine.

He’s at the wheel, one arm draped casually out the window, the other resting lazily at ten o’clock, though his eyes often flick to you more than the road.

“You’ve been staring,” you say, smiling as you glance at him from the passenger seat.

“And?” he smirks, crimson eyes dark beneath snowy hair. “It’s my birthday. I’m allowed to stare at whatever I want.”

That smirk lingers long after the comment, heating your cheeks. You look away, pretending to focus on a group of deer grazing in a sun-drenched field. Sylus doesn’t push, but the tension between you settles deeper with every passing moment.

Eventually, you find it; a quiet grove of sugar maples nestled beyond a split in the trail. He pulls the rover off-road.

“Looks like we found your birthday treasure,” you tease, stepping out of the rover and stretching. The ground is soft beneath your shoes, and the scent of nature is intoxicating.

Sylus follows, his boots crunching quietly behind you. “Treasure, huh?” His voice is smooth, low. “I thought I already had that.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk, but heat flares in your cheeks anyway.

“Let’s see if we can actually get some of that maple,” you say, stepping toward the nearest tree.“I read that the sap’s still sweet this time of year.” You reach up, fingers grazing the bark, sticky with sap. “Mm. Sweet,” you murmur, licking a dab off your fingertip.

“I thought you said I was the sweet one today,” he teases, stepping close enough for his breath to warm your ear.

You glance back at him. “Maybe I lied.”

“Oh?” His voice is a low hum now, lazy and dangerous. “Then maybe I’ll need to remind you what sweet really tastes like.”

You break eye contact with a laugh, hurrying toward the trees before you melt under the weight of that stare.

The two of you playfully chase after the dripping maple sap, swiping at bark, dodging low branches, Sylus occasionally flicking sticky syrup at you with a mischievous grin. It’s light and innocent… until it’s not.

At one point, you stretch on your tiptoes to try and catch a drop of amber from a higher branch. Sylus comes up behind you, steadying you with one hand on your waist.

“Careful,” he murmurs. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.”

Before you can reply, a blur of brown fur barrels into Sylus. A large labradoodle slams into him, sending both of you tumbling to the ground. Sylus takes the brunt of the fall, cushioning you with a grunt and a chuckle.

The dog licks his cheek as if in apology, then bolts back toward its owner.

The two of you stay there for a moment, breathless, laughter fading into a softer silence. The energy between you shifts, less playful now. More charged.

Sylus props himself on one elbow, his other hand finding yours, fingers brushing sticky-sweet sap from your wrist.

“You said something earlier today at the base,” he murmurs, voice a warm breath against your neck. “That I get whatever I want on my special day.”

You tilt your head toward him, your heart skipping. “I did. That was dangerous of me, huh?”

A soft huff of amusement escapes him. “Dangerous?” His hand slides to your waist, pulling you flush against him. “You know me, kitten. I am dangerous.”

You inhale sharply, your hands gripping the soft fabric of his jacket. The forest around you hums, but all you can feel is him.

“And what is it,” you whisper, “that you want?”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear like a secret. “You. Here. Now.”

And just like that, you're picked up, back against the tree, bark rough against your spine, while the sticky scent of maple clings to the air as Sylus kisses you, deep, slow, hungry. Like he’s been waiting all day to taste you. Like it’s the only thing he’s wanted since the moment the sun rose.

He pulls back slightly, eyes half-lidded and dark with want.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs, one of his classic lines, but this time, it sounds raw, honest, possessive.

You barely get out a breath before his mouth is on yours again, claiming. His hands slide under your shirt, calloused fingertips skimming heated skin. Your hips arch into his touch instinctively, needing more.

“Sylus,” you gasp as he mouths down your neck, sucking a mark just below your collarbone.

“Say it again,” he groans, voice thick with want.

“Sylus.”

His name is a prayer, a curse, a promise.

Your hands fumble at his shirt, and he shrugs it off easily, muscles flexing, eyes locked onto yours like he’s memorizing you. When he kisses you again, it’s harder, deeper, your back arching as he presses his body against yours.

“You have no idea,” he growls, voice vibrating against your skin, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you somewhere only we know.”

The sunlight filters through the leaves, casting gold over sweat-slicked skin and tangled limbs. Clothes fall away like they were never needed. He lays you down on his jacket, soft against the mossy earth, and kisses every inch of you like it’s sacred.

The birthday boy takes his time, exploring you as you both slowly explored the park today. Inch by inch, worshipping your body, while undressing you. His long fingers find that sweet spot of yours, rubbing through your panties, reveling in your wetness.

Despite the mild temperature and the fact he now has you naked, his body above you is keeping you warm. Sylus unbuckles his belt, his scarlet eyes, never leaving yours. His pants and boxers slide off of him and he leaves you for a split second, only to return with some maple sap on his fingers.

He drags them, slowly down your chest, down, down, down, to your pussy. Starting from your neck, leaves playful bites and kisses and then licks the sap pooling down your chest, savoring in the flavor. You can’t help but moan, the sensation overwhelming. Sylus continues to go lower and lower until his throbbing cock’s tip is just reddened, begging for stimulation.

Not yet, though.

It may be his birthday, but he isn’t afraid to give you a treat, or rather, take a treat from you.

He collects more maple sap and pinches it, letting it drip down just above your pussy.

“I can’t…” he starts licking and kissing your clit, lapping up your slick mixed with the sap. “Get enough of you.”

“Nghh, Sylus,” your fingers find their way to tangle in his white locks while he utterly devours you.

“I want to taste- mhm-, all of you,” he says between licks. “Don’t hold back, kitten.”

“Sy–” You’re abruptly cut off when he quickly slides one, then two fingers into you. His tongue doesn’t relent, the warm muscle savoring every drop of you while his fingers twist inside you. They’re so close to hitting that spot. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “Sylus, please, I-I can’t–”

“Give it to me, kitten,” his warm breath tingles against your folds and his fingers pick up the pace. Finally, finally, his two fingers curl and hit that golden spot of yours. His mouth sucks your clit just perfectly, his warm tongue tapping at your nub juuuust right when you–

“F-ffuck Sylus… I–” your red polished nails twirl his hair so hard, but he doesn't complain. Your thighs shake and tremble as they try to close around him. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, but when you open your eyes and see his throbbing cock, you know he wants more.

The way he crawls up to you, his face slick with your cum, the way his abs and pecs flex, how his scarlet eyes are full of desire, how his cock is leaking precum…

You grab him by his face and pull him into a deep, sloppy kiss, tasting yourself and the sap, on his lips and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing his hard body against yours.

You flip him over and straddle him, his eyes glued to your body. He bites his lip and groans, his hands running along your soft curves.

“Time for me to return the favor,” you breathe out.

“Hm?”

You give him soft sweet kisses, with cute little nibbles starting at his neck as you trail down his body. Your delicate hands grasp his length, feeling it throb in your hand. Your hand palms in comparison to his manhood, your fingers don’t even fully wrap around it.

“Kitten…” Sylus sighs, his hand reaching up to brush the side of your cheek.

“Don't worry, birthday boy,” you smile. “I'll take care of you.”

Your thumb circles around his tip, his pre-cum coating his cock. You start pumping him, earning a few low groans from him. Your lips find their way around his shaft and the first thing you do is lick up his precum.

“Fuck, baby girl, you're so sexy,” Sylus growls, watching as you bob your head on him.

The way you hollow out your cheeks, the way your tongue swishes around his cock, the way your lips pop when you come off his tip, the way his eight inch cock glistens when he's slick with your saliva…

Your mouth is so incredibly full and your eyes well up just from the pressure. WHY IS HE SO THICK!? He could kill you with his cock if he really wanted to. Your head bobs him up and down, your hands even find their way to his oh-so-full balls that were just waiting to be milked by you.

His fingers find their way into your hair and he thrusts up, a little too rough. You moan around him and he does it again. And again. The vibrations send his head spinning and the moans only make him fuck your face harder.

“Fuck, Kitten, wait-” You disappointedly slide his dick out of your mouth and look up at him, batting your lashes. There’s a cute trail of spit that stays connected to your mouth from his tip for a moment. It’s ridiculously adorable.

“Yes?”

“I need to be inside you so bad,” Sylus' hand moves to cup your chin.

You sit up and straddle him again, this time, hovering just over his tip. He can feel the warmth and wetness of your entrance.

“Beg,” you command.

“Kitten,” Sylus chuckles. “Do you know who I am? What I've done? I don't beg.”

“You're the one who told me not to hold back, Sylus.” You smirk, grinding on him a bit. “Now beg.”

“Baby girl, please, let me be inside you, please,” Sylus says.

You slide down his cock, inch by inch, letting him stretch you out. He feels so fucking good.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding up and down him, slowly.

Sylus' eyes are shut, his face contorted with pleasure. He's so beautiful.

“I love watching you like this,” you lean in and whisper into his ear.

“Like what?” Sylus grunts. He's using everything in his power not to bend you over against a tree and fuck you into oblivion.

“So pretty, enjoying yourself,”" you start going faster, his cock hitting the best spots inside you. "Enjoying me."

“Kitten,” Sylus wraps his arm around your waist and sits up, holding you on his lap. He kisses your shoulder. "I can't get enough of you. I never will.”

“Sylus,” you moan as he starts bucking his hips.

“Mm, you're so tight, baby girl,” Sylus breathes. “You're fucking perfect.”

“You fill me up so good,’ you whine, grinding against him.

“Shit, baby, I'm not gonna last much longer,” Sylus grips your hips and thrusts harder.

“Neither am I,” you kiss him and his hand snakes up to your breast, massaging and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“You're mine, princess, say it,’ Sylus growls.

“I'm yours,” you breathe.

“Say my name, tell me who you belong to,” Sylus orders, his lips on your neck, biting and sucking.

“Sylus,” his cock slams into you, so close to your g-spot. “Sylus, I'm yours, Sylus!”

“Cum for me, kitten, I want to watch you cum,” Sylus growls, and you obey, cumming on his cock. Your nails dig into his thighs as you try to balance yourself as his pace quickens and he fucks you through your orgasm, his name falling from your lips.

“That's it, baby, so good for me,” Sylus grunts and he cums too, spilling his seed inside you. He holds you against him, your foreheads pressed together.

Not even a minute after finishing, he's hard again, throbbing, and he fills you so completely you see stars. He feels even bigger now. Is that even possible?

He lays you in the grass, on top of his jacket, like you're the most precious thing ever, never disconnecting from you. His hips press yours into the ground, his weight warm and perfect and solid. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, until the sound of his voice is lost in a string of broken moans.

Around you, the forest watches in quiet stillness, birds flitting through trees, a fox slipping between the brush, unbothered by the irony of two humans fucking like animals in the heart of their world.

“So, a Hunter just lets their guard down in a place like this?” he murmurs into your ear between thrusts.

“As crazy as it seems,” you pant. “I know I’m safe with you.”

His smile reaches his eyes. That was an unexpected answer, but one that brings him happiness.

Sylus fucks like he loves, deep, slow, passionate. You cling to him, nails scraping down his back as the world melts away into nothing but sensation. The rough, hot friction, his breath against your ear, the smell of sweat and sex and the forest and him, all him, Sylus.

You lose yourself to the rhythm, to the way his body moves with yours, to the soft praises he mutters against your skin.

“Perfect…” he whispers. “So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Perfect.” Thruuuust.

Your body moves against his like it was made to be here, his rhythm relentless and sublime, your thighs starting to shake. His eyes meet yours, dark and desperate and needy. Your eyes squeeze shut as you arch beneath him, nails digging into his back as your hips stutter against his. His movements speed up, chasing his own high.

“Syy-Sylusss,” you're slurring at this point. Drunk on his cock.

“One more, Kitten,” he grunts, pounding into you. “Give me one more.” His large hands are bruising your hips as he gets a grip while his tip is kissing your cervix. Your legs feel like jelly, and if it wasn't for the fact that you're inside a semi-public area, you would want this to last forever. “C'mon, princess, for my birthday?”

“Syyy, I– ” he shuts you up before you even have the chance to finish.

Who were you to deny him? The birthday boy? The leader of Onychinus?

Sylus suddenly flips you over, and you show him the prettiest arch.

One hand firmly presses your head down and his other grips your ass as his hips snap forward, pounding into you mercilessly. If you won’t give him one, he’ll just take it.

It's too much. Too good. You feel his tip hitting your cervix, over and over and over, practically entering your womb—the pressure almost painful, the slap of his hips against your ass, the feeling of him stretching you out, his head keeping you down. It really is too much.

The sap, your fluids, his fluids, it only made it easier for him to slide in and out of you effortlessly. He felt bigger, thicker, and the noises you were making were getting louder, echoing across the forest.

Sylus' free hand slides up your back, grabbing the roots of your messy hair and pulling, the sting forcing a moan out of your mouth.

“So pretty, baby,” Sylus says. “Mine.”

You're both covered in sweat, the leaves, and dirt sticking to your skin. The sun is starting to set and the forest is getting darker.

“I- Sylus, I-I'm close,” you whimper, tears once again forming in the corners of your eyes.

He thrusts, harder, and harder, and harder. Giving, no – taking, what’s his today. Everyday.

“Me too, Kitten, just let go,” Sylus says.

And then you do, seeing white and feeling weightless, the forest spinning around you. Your release is mind shattering, your body shaking uncontrollably, but Sylus’ big warm hands steady you. Your eyes squeeze shut as you arch in front of him, your tight walls pulsating and milking his cock, nails digging into his sides.

The final crescendo is white-hot, all-consuming, as he groans your name like it’s the only one he’ll ever speak again.

“Y/n…” he chokes out. “Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n.”

He fucks you through your orgasm, hips stuttering, pace growing erratic. You kiss him, messy and desperate. It only takes a moment before he follows, and he kisses you back, hungry and starving and full of emotion he doesn't quite know how to voice.

You stay there for a moment, bodies still joined, hearts slowing. The wind rustles the leaves above, and the world goes on.

He's panting as he breaks away, eyes half-lidded, his mouth red from the kiss.

“Happy birthday,” you giggle breathless.

“It's been the best one yet, kitten,” Sylus smiles, a genuine smile. “Let's go home and I can thank you properly.”

You chuckle and nod, stealing another kiss before getting dressed.

Sylus takes his jacket, but before he can put it on, you snatch it.

“I'm keeping this,” you say, slipping it on and smiling.

“Fine by me, princess,” Sylus smirks, guiding you to the gravel path. “Now let's get back. We can pick up a few more things from the gift shop.”

“Okay!”

“You know, if it wasn't my birthday, I'd say we do that again, but somewhere even more public,” Sylus jokes.

“You're ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, but laugh, climbing back into the rover.

“You're perfect,” he compliments, following you in.

a/n also YES these are my photos except the shirtless one lol

#sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #l&ds sylus #sylus birthday #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus x y/n #sylus x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lnds smut #lads #qin che #qin che x reader

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sandumilfshous · 9 days ago

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i love tifa lockhart so much. small town girl who chooses to be friends with the kid everyone hates. has to give a guided hiking tour to a famous decorated war general/model and his squad and wears a matching cowboy hat + boots + crop top + skirt combo. has entire hometown burned down and family killed and becomes an eco-terrorist about it. entrepreneurial queen who starts up her own bar with a secret basement below the pinball machine. everyone else on the team has giant swords/guns/shuriken/claws and she's just out here punching and kicking dragons to death successfully. nearly got bisected in half and survived to kick ass. is a world-tier martial artist and brawler but still loves to dress up in fun cute girly outfits at every opportunity! is a girls girl but will also outdrink the lads. trusts her very obviously mentally fucked/potentially actively hallucinating and/or delusional best friend to the ends of the earth. takes care of him and successfully heals him when he inevitably fucks them up. goes toe-to-toe multiple times with an alien god armed only with her fighting gloves and wins. becomes a mother to adoptive kids and will fight to the death for them. and does this all while looking fucking good

#tifa lockhart #tifa ffvii #ff7 tifa #tifa ff7 #tifaweek #HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIFA!!!!!!!#THATS MY GIRL!!!!

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gayghostgrimoire · 5 months ago

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Scouser

Ethan wandered aimlessly through the misty streets of Liverpool, the thick fog clinging to his clothes like a cold, damp shroud. It was a far cry from the sunny California beaches he'd left behind, but the allure of the town had drawn him across the pond. The GPS on his phone had failed him, leaving him to navigate the maze of unfamiliar streets with only the faded glow of the occasional streetlight to guide his way.

As he turned into a narrow alley, the fog grew denser, wrapping around him like a living thing with malicious intent. The distant sounds of the city grew muffled, replaced by a foreboding silence that seemed to press in on him from all sides. That's when he heard it—a faint, yet distinctly mocking scouse accent echoing through the murk. "Lost, are ya?" it taunted. "Fancy a bit of company, then?"

Ethan's heart hammered in his chest as he scanned the alley, but the fog was too thick to make out any figures lurking in the shadows. His mind raced with the possibilities of who, or what, could be speaking to him. The accent was unmistakably local, yet the tone was eerily playful, almost flirtatious. He took a tentative step back, trying to blend with the brick wall behind him, hoping it would offer some protection.

"Oi, don't be shy," the voice called out again, closer this time. "We don't bite... unless you're into that sort of thing." The taunts grew louder, and he could now discern the laughter of two young men, their footsteps echoing off the wet cobblestones as they approached. Ethan's palms grew slick with sweat despite the cold, and his grip tightened around the strap of his backpack, ready to flee at any moment.

As if on cue, the fog behind him parted slightly to reveal the silhouettes of two figures. Suddenly, he felt a firm grip on his butt, and he spun around with a start. Two Scouse lads, no older than twenty-two, were grinning at him, their teeth flashing in the dim light. They were dressed in matching shiny tracksuits and Nike TN's that looked like they'd been stolen straight from a sports shop. One had spiky blond hair and piercing blue eyes, the other, a mop of curly chestnut hair and eyes so dark they seemed to swallow the light.

"Caught ya off guard, didn't we?" the blond one quipped, his voice thick with a Liverpool accent that was as smooth as it was menacing. "I'm Jamie, and this 'ere's me mate, Ollie. What's your name, handsome?"

Ethan, trying to play it cool, managed a shaky laugh. "I'm Ethan, just a tourist trying to find my way."

Jamie and Ollie exchanged glances, their mischievous eyes gleaming with something that was more than just playfulness. The grip on his butt grew firmer, and Ethan felt a knot of fear coil in his stomach. Despite their seemingly harmless banter, there was an underlying current of danger that he couldn't ignore. They were smaller in build than he'd anticipated, but there was something feral and unpredictable about them that made his instincts scream caution.

"Ah, a Yank!" Ollie exclaimed, his grin widening. "You're just what we need tonight, love." He stepped closer, his breath a mix of ciggies and cheap cider, and placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "How about we show you the sights, eh? Give you a proper tour of our lovely city."

Ethan's instincts told him to decline, but he found himself nodding, the fear momentarily overridden by his curiosity. The two lads began to walk alongside him, their arms brushing against his as they weaved through the foggy alley. The flirtatiousness grew more pronounced with each step, their touches lingering a little longer than necessary. The smell of their cheap aftershave made Ethan's nose wrinkle, but he kept his cool, playing along as if he was enjoying their company.

"So, you into footie, then?" Ethan nodded, his voice a tad shakier than he would have liked. "Good taste. Who's your team?"

"I'm more of a Man U fan," Ethan admitted, expecting a hostile reaction. Instead, the two lads just chuckled. "Ah, a bit of rivalry," Ollie said, nudging him with his elbow. "Don't worry, we won't hold it against you."

They strolled onward, the fog thinning as they ventured deeper into the city's underbelly. The buildings grew shabbier, graffiti more prevalent, and the smell of greasy food and stale beer filled the air. The conversation remained light, with Jamie and Ollie peppering him with questions about his favorite players and football matches he'd been to. They spoke with a passion that was contagious, and Ethan found himself relaxing slightly, his initial fear giving way to a morbid fascination with the pair.

Ollie fished a pack of ciggies from his pocket and offered one to Ethan. "Want a fag?"

Ethan hesitated, his eyes flicking between the cigarette and the smirk on Ollie's face. "No, thanks. I don't smoke."

Ollie's grin grew more playful, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, such a good boy," he said, his voice a seductive purr. "But don't you think a bit of naughtiness could make you look even more appealing?" He held the cigarette up to Ethan's lips, the tip glowing a fiery red.

Ethan took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dry taste that coated his mouth, and took a tentative drag. The smoke burned his throat and lungs, and he couldn't help but cough, doubling over in a fit of hacking. The two lads erupted into laughter, slapping him on the back with rough, calloused hands.

"Bloody hell, you're a right lightweight," Jamie said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Here, let me help you with that." He took a step closer, placing a hand on Ethan's back to steady him, while Ollie held the cigarette back to his mouth.

Ethan took another drag, this one less tentative than the first, trying to keep up with their bravado. The smoke curled around his tongue, leaving a bitter taste, but he forced himself to hold it in longer before letting it out in a puff that was more impressive than he'd expected. "Better?" Ollie asked, his voice still coated with that flirty lilt.

"Much," Ethan said, his voice a bit raspy.

Jamie chuckled, a hint of something more than mirth in his tone. "Looks like you're getting the hang of it," he said, leaning in so close that Ethan could feel the warmth of his breath. "But you know, you're basically kissing Ollie every time you do that."

Ollie's smile grew wider, revealing a chipped tooth. "Yeah, that's right," he said, his hand lingering on Ethan's shoulder. "Swapping spit and all that."

Ethan felt his cheeks warm despite the cold, but the fear was slowly dissipating. He took another drag of the cigarette, feeling a strange kinship with the two young men. They weren't like anyone he'd met before—flirtatious and forward in a way that was both confusing and exhilarating. As they strolled through the alleyways, the fog began to lift, and the neon glow of a pub sign flickered into view. The sound of shattered glass and raucous laughter spilled into the street, accompanied by the distant cheer of a football match.

"Looks like the party's already started," Jamie said, nodding toward the pub. The sign above the door read "The Red Lion" in faded letters. The smell of stale beer and greasy food grew stronger as they approached, mingling with the sweet scent of tobacco smoke. The door was propped open, and a warm glow spilled onto the cobblestones.

"Come on, let's get you a pint," Ollie suggested, giving Ethan a playful shove. "You'll need it to keep up with us."

Ethan allowed himself to be guided through the open door, the warmth of the pub enveloping him like a bearhug. The place was crowded, with locals shouting over the din of a live band playing a rowdy cover of "You'll Never Walk Alone." The scent of spilled ale and fried fish washed over him as they found a table in the corner.

Jamie and Ollie propped their feet up on the table, wagging them back and forth with teasing eyes. Ethan couldn't help but stare at the intricate ankle tattoos peeking out from their rolled-up tracksuit pants. One had a dagger with the word "Love" etched on the blade, the other a pair of cherries that looked suspiciously like a pair of testicles. Their flirtatiousness was palpable, and he felt his heart flutter in his chest.

"You know, Ollie," Jamie said, nudging his friend with an elbow, "you really need to sort out your pongy feet."

Ollie shot him a glare, but Ethan noticed the glint of a smile. "Why don't you keep your nose out of it, Jamie? Besides, Ethan here might like it." He winked at Ethan, who felt his cheeks flush.

Jamie chuckled, "Yeah, right. Like anyone would want a whiff of those stinkers." He nudged Ollie's leg with his own, the leather of his shoe squeaking against the plastic chair. "But you know what, let's not bother our guest with our stench. Get us a round of pints, will ya?"

Ollie rolled his eyes, but the mischief remained on his face. He hopped off the chair with a grace that belied his rough exterior. "Alright, alright, keep your knickers on," he said, swaggering toward the bar. As he moved away, the smell of his feet did seem to linger, a pungent aroma that was indeed quite potent.

Jamie leaned in closer to Ethan, his eyes dancing with a playful glint. "Ollie's right, though," he whispered conspiratorially. "My feet are the real horror show." He wiggled his toes, and Ethan caught a faint whiff of something that could only be described as a mix of sweat and stale cheese.

Ollie returned with three pints of lager, sloshing slightly as he set them down on the sticky table. "Here you go, lads," he said, his eyes never leaving Ethan's. He took a seat and leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest. "So, you're a dead ringer for our mate Tommy," Jamie said, taking a long pull from his pint. "It's uncanny, really."

Ethan's heart skipped a beat. "Who's Tommy?"

Jamie leaned back, his eyes misting with nostalgia. "Ah, Tommy. He was one of us. The life of the party, that one. Could charm the birds out of the trees," he said, taking a swig of his pint. "And he had this knack for making the lads swoon. Just a wink, and they'd be putty in his hands."

Ollie nodded, his smile wistful. "Remember when he convinced that posh bloke from the university that he was a secret prince?" He snickered, the memory bringing a sparkle to his eyes. "We had him running around town, doing all sorts for us. Thought he'd hit the jackpot with a real-life fairy tale."

Jamie's laughter was deep and infectious, and even Ethan couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of the story. "Yeah, poor sod was half in love by the time we told him it was all a joke," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "But that was Tommy. He had this way about him."

Ollie took a sip of his beer, his gaze lingering on Ethan. "He was a bit of a looker too, our Tommy. Could turn heads with just a smile." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And when he put his mind to it, could get a guy to do anything he wanted."

Ethan swallowed hard, his curiosity piqued. "What happened to him?"

Jamie took another swig of his lager, his eyes never leaving Ethan's. "Tommy? Oh, he kicked the bucket a few weeks ago," he said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. "Went out on his uncle's fishing boat and never came back. They found him floating in the Mersey, stiff as a board." He chuckled, a dark note in his laugh.

Ethan's smile faltered, the laughter in his throat dying. "That's terrible," he murmured, unsure of how to respond to their casualness.

Jamie shrugged. "It's life, isn't it?" He took another swig of his pint, the foam clinging to his upper lip. "But don't you worry about it, love. Tommy's spirit's still with us, in a way." He winked, and Ollie nodded in agreement.

Ollie leaned closer, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You see, we've got a little ritual we do for our mates when they pass on," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "It's like we keep 'em close, ya know?"

Ethan nodded, his curiosity now tinged with unease. He took a sip of the lager, the cool liquid washing over his tongue. It was a strange flavor, almost metallic, but with an undertone of something sweet, like candy. The more he drank, the heavier his eyelids grew, his thoughts swirling like the fog outside. The room grew hazy, the sounds of the pub melding into a cacophony of laughter and shouts that echoed in his head.

Ollie slid into the booth next to him, his arm snaking around Ethan's shoulders with the ease of an old friend. The warmth of his body was surprisingly comforting, and Ethan found himself leaning into the embrace despite the stranger's musky scent. "You're just like him," Ollie murmured into his ear, his breath hot and wet. "You've got that same spark, that same... vibe."

Jamie took the opposite side, his leg brushing against Ethan's under the table. His sneaker was grimy, the white leather stained with a pattern of dirt and who-knows-what, but there was something undeniably alluring about the way he nudged Ethan's foot with his own, a silent invitation to play along with their game. Ethan's inhibitions began to unravel like a cheap sweater, the tension in his body giving way to a strange, thrilling sense of abandon.

The three of them knocked back their pints, the alcohol hitting Ethan's system like a freight train. He felt lightheaded, his thoughts swirling with the laughter and music of the pub. "C'mon," Jamie slurred, slapping the table with the palm of his hand. "Let's go back to our place. Show ya a proper scouser time."

Ollie nodded, his eyes half-lidded with drink. "Yeah, you'll love it," he said, his voice dropping into that seductive purr again. "You're one of us now, aren't ya?"

Ethan found himself grinning, the idea of fitting in with these two rough-around-the-edges lads surprisingly appealing. He'd always been the clean-cut tourist, following the beaten path and playing it safe. But there was something about the wildness of Jamie and Ollie that called to him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He nodded, the room spinning slightly as he stood up, Ollie's arm still draped over his shoulders.

They stumbled out of the pub, the night air hitting him like a cold slap in the face. The fog had lifted, leaving the cobblestone streets slick with rain and the scent of the river hanging heavy in the air. They wove their way through the city, the neon lights of the clubs and pubs reflecting off the wet pavement. The laughter and music grew fainter as they left the center of town, heading into a more residential area where the buildings leaned together as if whispering secrets to one another.

Jamie and Ollie had an easy camaraderie, finishing each other's sentences and slapping each other's backs with a familiarity that spoke of a long history together. Ethan felt like the third wheel, but also like the most important person in the world as they both vied for his attention. They pointed out landmarks and told stories of their childhood, each one more outrageous than the last. The lager had loosened their tongues and their inhibitions, and Ethan found himself caught in their infectious energy.

"Here we are," Jamie announced, nudging Ethan as they reached a row of terraced houses, their red brick façades stained with time and pollution. "Home sweet home." The door to number 23 stood ajar, and the smell of stale incense and weed wafted out into the night.

Ethan followed them up a narrow staircase, the walls plastered with faded football posters and stickers from long-forgotten bands. The apartment was a chaotic mess—clothes and empty beer cans scattered across the floor, dirty dishes piled high in the kitchen sink, and a faint scent of something musky in the air. It was the kind of place that looked like a tornado had swept through it, but somehow, it felt oddly cozy.

The living room was dominated by an ancient sofa that looked like it had seen better days. The fabric was stained, the cushions lumpy, and the smell of male musk was as potent as the stale cigarette smoke that hung in the air. But it was the perfect perch for the trio, and they sank into it with a collective sigh, Ethan sandwiched between them.

Jamie tossed a pack of ciggies on the coffee table, the plastic sticking to the film of beer that had been spilled and forgotten. "Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the pack with a grin. Ethan picked one out, the paper feeling gritty between his fingers, and Ollie lit it with a zippo that had seen more action than a porn star. The first drag was harsh, but he managed to keep his cough to a minimum, earning an approving nod from his new companions.

Ollie leaned in closer, his arm draped over the back of the sofa, his fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of Ethan's neck. "You're a right catch, you are," he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and something else—desire. Ethan felt a shiver run down his spine, his body responding to the unspoken promise in the Scally's gaze.

"Yeah, you fit right in, like you were born for this," Jamie said, his hand resting casually on Ethan's knee. The touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing patterns through the fabric of Ethan's jeans that made him squirm with excitement. "You've got the looks, the swagger," he said, his eyes raking over Ethan's body. "We could use someone like you."

Ethan took another drag of his cigarette, feeling the warmth spread through him as he exhaled. The haze in his mind was thickening, the edges of his reality blurring. He didn't know what was happening, but he didn't want it to stop. "You guys are something else," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire.

Ollie leaned in even closer, his hand sliding down to rest on Ethan's thigh. "You like that, do ya?" he asked, his voice a silky whisper that seemed to resonate deep within Ethan's core.

Jamie grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the living room. "Yeah, you do, don't ya?" He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke in a ring that floated lazily up to the ceiling. "You know, love, you'd fit in so much better if you wore something a bit more... us."

Ethan's eyes widened slightly, the haze in his mind clearing just enough to process the suggestion. He'd never been one to dress like a local, but the idea of blending in with Jamie and Ollie was suddenly incredibly appealing. "What do you mean?"

Ollie's grin grew, his eyes glinting with excitement. "We've got Tommy's old gear," he said, nodding towards a pile of clothes in the corner. "You'd look right proper in them, like a real scouser." He leaned closer, his hand sliding up to Ethan's chest. "Right Jamie? All the lads in the pub, fighting over him like a pack of dogs."

Jamie chuckled, his hand sliding from Ethan's knee to his hip. "Oh, you'd have 'em eating out of the palm of your hand," he agreed. "And they'd be begging for more."

Ethan felt his cheeks redden, his heart racing at the thought. "Okay," he said, his voice a little unsteady. "Sure!"

Ollie clapped his hands together, a grin spreading across his face. "Perfect!" He hopped off the sofa and scurried over to the pile of clothes. "Here you go, love," he said, tossing a red Liverpool FC jersey at Ethan. It smelled faintly of sweat and something else, something that made Ethan's nose wrinkle.

Jamie took the lead, his eyes never leaving Ethan's as he began to unbutton the American's shirt. His hands were surprisingly gentle, his touch sending a thrill through Ethan's body. With each button undone, the jersey slid away, revealing the tourist's taut abs and the faint outline of a six-pack. "Nice," Jamie murmured, his voice low and full of appreciation. "You've been taking care of yourself."

Ollie whooped, his hand slapping Ethan's bare chest in a gesture that was half-celebratory, half-playful. "Look at the goods on him!"

Jamie's eyes never left Ethan's as he pulled the jersey over his head, his hands lingering on the American's skin longer than necessary. The fabric was rough against Ethan's skin, the scent of old sweat and cheap cologne mingling with the musk of the lads around him. It was a smell that would normally make him gag, but now, it just made him feel more alive. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with it, and felt his cock stir in his jeans.

Ollie was next, unbuttoning Ethan's pants with a flourish. "Let's see what you're hiding under these fancy trousers," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. Ethan's hands trembled slightly as he slid his pants down, revealing his boxers. They were designer, clean and pristine, a stark contrast to the stained white track pants Ollie held out to him.

The track pants were snug, hugging Ethan's thighs like a second skin. As he pulled them up, he couldn't help but notice the way the fabric clung to his growing erection, highlighting it like a beacon of desire. The smell of sweat and something else—something that was uniquely Ollie and Jamie—enveloped him, making him feel part of their world.

"Lookin' good, love," Jamie said, his eyes raking over Ethan's now scally-fied attire. The jersey was a size too small, the fabric stretching taut over his chest, and the track pants hung low on his hips, showcasing the waistband of his designer boxers.

Ollie whistled low, his eyes dark with lust. "You're a natural," he murmured, his hand reaching out to trace the outline of Ethan's cock, making him gasp. "Just like Tommy used to."

The words snapped something in Ethan, and suddenly, it was as if he could hear the echoes of his dead doppelgänger's laughter in his own voice. "Cheeky bugger," he said, the Scouse accent slipping into his words unbidden. It was a sound that was at once foreign and eerily familiar, as if he'd been speaking it all his life.

Jamie and Ollie erupted into laughter, slapping their knees and exchanging a look that spoke volumes. "Bloody hell," Jamie said, his eyes wide. "You've got the mouth on ya."

Ethan felt a thrill at their reaction, a newfound boldness surging through him. He leaned back on the sofa, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, and took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow, seductive stream. "Maybe I've got more in common with Tommy than you think," he said, his voice dropping an octave. The accent came more naturally now, rolling off his tongue like honey.

Jamie's eyes grew dark, his gaze lingering on Ethan's mouth. "Oh, you're a right cheeky one," he murmured, leaning in closer. "Just like him." His hand slid from Ethan's hip up to his waist, his thumb stroking the bare skin just above the waistband of the borrowed track pants. "Could be his twin, you know?"

Ollie nodded, his own hand joining the fray. "Yeah," he breathed, his eyes locked on Ethan's. "You're a musky fucker just like him. The way you're filling out those pants, you could pass for his ghost." His hand dipped lower, cupping the growing bulge in Ethan's crotch, making him moan.

Ethan's eyes sparkled with mischief as he took another drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air. "Maybe I've got his moves too," he said, his voice a smoky purr that was pure Tommy. He leaned back into the embrace of the sofa, the fabric of the jersey sticking to his sweaty skin. "You two ever wondered what it'd be like to have him back?"

Ollie's eyes grew dark, his pupils dilating. "You know what, love?" He said, his hand sliding down to cup Ethan's package. "I think we already do." And with that, he dropped to his knees, the floorboards groaning under his weight. He peered up at Ethan through a fringe of hair, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

Ethan felt a jolt of excitement at the look on Ollie's face, his cock swelling even more. Ollie reached out and gripped the waistband of the track pants, pulling them down just enough to expose Ethan's cock. It was already thick and hard, the scent of sweat and arousal mixing with the stale smoke from the pub. Ollie leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste Ethan's skin. "Mm," he murmured, his eyes closing in pleasure. "You're just like him."

The first touch of Ollie's mouth was electric, the heat and wetness of it sending shivers down Ethan's spine. His hips bucked slightly, pushing himself deeper into the warm cavern of the Scally's mouth. He watched, entranced, as Ollie took him in, his cheeks hollowing out with each suck. It was as if he'd done this a hundred times before, as if he knew exactly what Ethan needed, what Tommy had liked.

Jamie's eyes never left the show, his hand moving to his own crotch, stroking himself through the fabric of his pants. "Looks like you're enjoying that," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He leaned over the back of the sofa, his mouth grazing Ethan's ear. "You're just like him, aren't ya?"

Ethan threw his head back, the pleasure of Ollie's mouth on him overwhelming. He felt something change within him, a wildness that he hadn't felt before, a sense of abandon that was as intoxicating as the whiskey and lager swirling in his belly. He reached down, his hand tangling in Ollie's hair as he pushed him further down, his hips bucking in time with the Scally's eager sucks. He could feel himself losing control, the boundaries between him and Tommy blurring like the fog outside.

The room grew hazier, the smoke thickening around them as Jamie stood up, his eyes never leaving the erotic dance between Ethan and Ollie. He sauntered over to the pile of clothes, his eyes alighting on a pair of grimy, worn-out TNs. They were a stark contrast to the clean, polished loafers Ethan had been wearing, the kind of shoes that screamed 'tourist'. He picked them up, holding them to his nose with a grin, inhaling deep the musky scent of sweat and the Mersey mud that clung to them. "These were Tommy's pride and joy," Jamie said, strutting over to Ethan's feet propped up on the coffee table. "They're yours now."

With surprising dexterity, Jamie snatched Ethan's loafers and slipped them off, the sound of fabric sliding against skin sending a thrill through the American. He took a moment to appreciate the clean, fresh scent of Ethan's socks before peeling them away, revealing the pale, unblemished soles of his feet. "Perfect," he murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Just like Tommy's used to be."

The worn-out TNs looked almost black in the dim light of the room, the laces frayed and the toes caked with the grime of a hundred adventures. Ethan watched as Jamie took the left one and held it to his nose, inhaling deep. The scent was overpowering, a mix of sweat, the river, and something else—a scent that was as much a part of the fabric of the city as the bricks that made up the buildings around them. It was a smell that was at once repulsive and incredibly arousing, and Ethan felt his cock throb at the sight.

Jamie slid the sneaker onto Ethan's right foot, the fabric sticking slightly to the bare skin. It was tight, the grimy insole had molded to the shape of Tommy's foot, but it fit like a glove. The left one followed, and as Jamie laced them up, Ethan felt a strange sensation—like a jolt of electricity that shot through his entire body, making his toes curl and his cock pulse. He gasped, his eyes snapping open to meet Jamie's intense gaze.

The room grew dimmer, the edges of his vision blurring as if he were looking through a foggy window. The air grew thick with the scent of stale sweat and something else, something that seemed to fill his lungs and make him feel more alive than he had in years. Ethan's chest felt tight, his heart racing as if it were trying to break free of the confines of his body. He looked down at Ollie, whose eyes had glazed over, his mouth moving on Ethan's cock with a mind of its own. It was as if he could feel Tommy's spirit, squeezing into him, taking over.

A voice, rough and mischievous, echoed through his mind, and he realized it was Tommy's. "Cheers, mate," the spirit said, a chuckle that was part memory, part possession. "It's been a while since I've had a bit of fun like this." The words were accompanied by a feeling of pure, unbridled lust that flooded through Ethan's veins, making him feel like he could conquer the world.

Ollie looked up, his eyes wide with shock and excitement. "Bloody hell, you're him, aren't ya?" he whispered, his cheeks flushed as Ethan's hand grabbed his hair, pushing him down onto the thick shaft that was now fully under Tommy's control.

Tommy's voice, gruff and cheeky, filled the room as he spoke through Ethan's lips. "Miss me, lads?" he asked, his tone playful as he watched the two Scallys exchange glances that were a mix of shock and lust.

Jamie's hand paused on the laces of the second TN, his eyes wide with awe. "Bloody hell, Tommy," he murmured, a hint of fear and excitement in his voice. "Is that really you?"

The room grew even denser with anticipation as Ethan's hand—now Tommy's—reached out and knuckle-bumped Jamie's, the gesture playful and full of life. "Course it's me," the spirit said, a cheeky grin playing on Ethan's lips. "Couldn't stay away from you two, could I?"

Ollie, still kneeling, looked up with a mix of awe and hunger. "Welcome back, ya cheeky bastard," he murmured before taking Ethan's cock back into his mouth, eager to serve.

Tommy, now in full control, leaned back against the sofa, his body tensing as Ollie's mouth worked him over. The pleasure was intense, a mix of the physical and the metaphysical. He could feel the energy of the room shift, the very air seeming to thicken with the potent scent of desire and nostalgia. His hand found its way to Ollie's neck, his grip firm but gentle, guiding the rhythm as he neared climax.

"That's it, Ollie," he groaned, his voice a deep, guttural rumble that was unmistakably Tommy's. "Take it all, lad." And with that, he exploded, filling Ollie's mouth with a hot, thick load of his cum. Ollie's eyes watered, but he took it eagerly, swallowing it down with a gulp that sent a shiver through Tommy's entire being.

As the last of his climax subsided, Ethan's body went slack, his eyes fluttering closed. But the spirit of Tommy was far from finished. He sat up with a grin that was both cocky and predatory, his hand still tangled in Ollie's hair. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice still thick with lust. "But that's just the warm-up."

Ollie looked up, his lips glistening with cum, and nodded eagerly. "Whatever you want, Tommy," he said, his voice full of deviant longing.

Jamie, his eyes hooded with desire, took the cue. He stepped closer, his hand working his own cock through the fabric of his jeans. "You've got the taste for it now, don't ya?" he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. Ethan—no, Tommy—grinned, his hand sliding up Jamie's leg, gripping his cock firmly through the denim. "Oh, I've got the taste for it, alright," he said, his voice a perfect mimicry of the dead lad's.

Jamie groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as Tommy's hand worked him. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desire. "So fucking good."

Tommy's grin grew wider, a hint of the mischief that had made him infamous in life. "Aye, but I've got a bit of a thirst on," he said, his hand never leaving Jamie's cock. "How about we grab a pint before we really get down to it?"

Ollie and Jamie shared a look, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Whatever you say, Tommy," Ollie murmured, his own erection tenting his track pants. "But don't keep us waiting too long."

With a wink, Tommy stood, the worn sneakers feeling surprisingly right on his feet. The three of them strutted out of the apartment, their laughter echoing through the hallway and down the stairs. The cool night air hit them like a slap in the face, sobering them up just enough to realize that the world outside had gone on without them. The streets of Liverpool were alive with the sounds of the night—cars honking, drunken laughter, and distant sirens. But to them, it was as if they were the only ones who mattered. They walked in a tight pack, Ethan's body moving with a newfound swagger, his eyes glinting with the mischief that had been Tommy's trademark.

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 2 months ago

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OC Tag Game

saw @dragonologist-phd do this and put out an open tag so I figured I'd introduce the sad mushroom lady that I talk way too much about!

I'll tag @nuclearanomaly, @vargonautic, @urdnotgrunt, @dovahgarbage, @girlwonderers, @themilokin, @star-graze, @starlightsylph, @blujayonthewing, @parad0xymoron, @merrigelblogs, @ramblerogue, @msnoblesix, @ghilegab and anyone else who wants to do this! I literally only picked like the top folks I see in my activity feed but y'all know I love a good OC chat. Please feel free to join!

(art by @/ryuichifoxe, design by @/arlohawthorne)

— GENERAL

Name: Elowyn "Wyn" Bannon

Alias: Wyn is her nickname, but it's also what she chooses to introduce herself as. Elowyn is just too long!

Gender: Cis(ish) woman. I think she's probably got some gnc fuckery going on somewhere but honestly she's got a job (surviving Barovia) so she doesn't really care about that rn

Age: 31

Spoken Language: Common, Elvish, Infernal

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Formerly? Wandering cleric of the grave, offeror of last rites, funeral planner and overall aid to the living left behind. Now? Barovia tour guide to a bunch of idiots that she unfortunately has gotten to care a lot about. (And the rogue.)

—FAVOURITE

Colour: Dark green or dark blue! Ideal is that phtalo green color honestly

Entertainment: One of Wyn's guilty pleasures wrt her station is that she actually really loves professional live music. She isn't much of a theater person, but she has a singular love for orchestra or ballet performances, and absolutely has invited wannabe suitors out to see a show strictly as an excuse to make the trip. (And if she genuinely likes them? Well, those boxes ARE pretty dark...)

Pastime: Hiking, especially when it takes her out to scenic locales that she can paint. Painting was always her preferred excuse for carving out some time alone, and she much preferred the effort of getting OUT somewhere over hiding away in her studio. It was always too easy for someone to interrupt her at the family house.

Food: Poached pears, especially over yogurt or some kind of vanilla custard. Sprinkle some cinnamon granola over them and Wyn is in heaven.

Drink: A strong roasted oolong tea, or coffee. She's fine with alcohol when the situation calls for it - and admittedly, there have been MANY situations lately that have called for it - but she still mostly prefers the company of a drink with a different kind of bite.

— HAVE THEY...

Passed University: Technically no, but Wyn did get something close to a university education. Her parents were insistent that she be well-schooled, even if they wouldn't let her follow her brother to one of the actual colleges.

Had Sex: Enthusiastically, yes.

Had Sex in Public: Not really. Wyn has gotten a little handsy in public, sure, but she still requires a closed door when clothes start coming off.

Got Tattoos: Not yet, but she's not opposed to the idea.

Got Piercings: Quite a few ear piercings, but that's it. So far, anyway.

Got Scarred: Yes! Wyn has a nasty one where her neck joins her shoulder from a fight with one of the Viscountesses that got out of hand.

Had a Broken Heart: Oh, big time. Wyn learned early how to spot potential suitors who were only trying to use her as a status upgrade, or were just interested in a turn with the local devilspawn, but there was one lad who showed a genuine attraction to her, and Wyn began spending a lot of time with him. Unfortunately, he was also deeply ashamed of that attraction, and put a lot of effort into hiding their courtship from, uh, everyone that he could. Wyn dropped him the moment she found out, but her affection for him had been genuine too, and she spent a good long while afterwards nursing her hurt feelings.

— ARE THEY...

A Cuddler: More than she would ever admit. Wyn holds herself at a certain distance from most people unless she has petitioned them for an evening, but given time to cultivate some trust, she is extremely physically affectionate. She likes to be the big spoon. :>

Scared Easily: Of certain things, yes. Wyn is easily put off by wanton violence, and people that are capable of it tend to scare her pretty badly, but things like ghosts? Monsters? Death? It takes quite a lot of effort for things like THAT to get to her.

Jealous Easily: Not unless she has been given due cause to believe that something truly does belong to her. She tends not to covet items or skills very much, and she doesn't really lay claim to people often enough to be called easily jealous, but she WILL defend whatever has been deemed unequivocally hers.

Trustworthy: M...mostly... Wyn doesn't often choose to break covenant with people, but she might go into a bargain with the intention of betrayal. That is NOT outside of the realm of possibility. Usually, though, she's true to her word.

— FAMILY...

Siblings: Her late brother, Atticus. He was her favorite person in the whole wide world, and she tried to move heaven and earth to bring him back.

Parents: Her mother and father, Analyn and Maxim Bannon, who Wyn has a...strained relationship with. She's pretty sure they're not looking for her.

Children: Actively not something Wyn is trying to pursue. She's already been told that she's going to die early, and even if she wanted children, she wouldn't subject them to that.

Pets: Never something that was allowed in the Bannon household. I don't know if Wyn would have even asked. She does hold a special reserve of fondness for the party wizard's familiar, a raven aptly named Lenore, which is probably as close as Wyn will ever get to a proper pet.

#oc crap #the wyn tag #wyn bannon #frenchy replies #tag game #obviously no pressure to respond to the tag! i just wanted to cast a wide net. :>#i was thinking of doing val for this but unfortunately. I have the brainworms.#maybe next time! or if there's another tag :D #i need a curse of strahd tag #the barovia tour group

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steviestits · 11 months ago

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In The Family Way - Part 1.1

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Argyle/Jonathan Rating: T (E in later chapters) Summary: The Munson family has never had the typical values that most modern Americans have as they find thrill in all that's mysterious and spooky. Steve Harrington, a black widow omega, hadn't known this when he mated with the family's eldest alpha, Eddie, and thought that he'd be another easy mark that he could kill to inherit the millions that Eddie owned. However, not only do all his murder attempts fail, but Eddie actually enjoys them! And to make matters worse, the alpha wants to try for a pup! Steve has to find a way to off Eddie for good, before he gets pregnant and maybe actually falls for the death-crazed alpha. (Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester) Trigger Warning: Attempted Murder as a love language

The day Eddie met Steve Harrington was honestly the most horrendous day of Eddie’s life, and to be honest, Eddie couldn’t be happier. They met through Eddie’s adoptive brother, Argyle, of all people, after his omega, Jonathan, had a baby. The omega ran a photo studio out of their home, taking morbid pictures of newlyweds and family photos. He thought he would have to close the photo studio as he also had two younger siblings, El and Will, so Grandmama Joyce had her hands full with them and couldn’t help watch over the baby, too. However, Argyle insisted that Jonathan continue his dream and suggested they get a nanny instead to help out during his working hours. Jonathan had been hesitant at first, but since his studio was at home, if the baby needed him then he’d be only a few rooms away.

Finding a nanny proved to be a problem since most of the ones the agency sent over were quite disturbed. They ran away at the first sight of a bloody knife or a severed hand, leaving the baby unattended in the process. Eddie helped Argyle complain to the agency several times about their carelessness and demanded that the nannies be reprimanded for the neglect they showed in their duties. Instead of seeing the flaws in their hiring process, they proceeded to ban them from using the agency's services. At least, that’s what they had thought until another nanny showed up out of the blue. That beautiful vision was Steve, a very kind and sweet omega.

Steve took to the children well, and quickly became their confidant. Though El and Will denied it, Steve insisted that the kids desired to go to summer camp. And from what Eddie heard, the kids had a truly dreadful time. They made some new friends, led a rebel uprising, scalped some puritans, and set fire to a stage. Honestly, if Eddie had known summer camp was so much fun, he would’ve insisted that his uncle send him when he was a lad.

The departure of the children did make Steve lonely, however, but Eddie was there to comfort him and over the course of their interactions, the two of them fell in love. They eloped nearly the same day then took a flight directly to Hawaii for their honeymoon. Eddie hadn’t thought he’d like Hawaii because of all the sun, but Steve went the extra mile to make sure Eddie had a good time. He started by electrocuting him in the bathtub then introduced him to sex directly afterwards. And there was the impromptu shark tank swim that Steve sent him on, and the tour of the local volcanoes. One of which Steve, the seductress, tried to shove him into when the guide brought them to an active site.

Eddie had been worried that the magic would end once they returned home, but Steve continued to be affectionate and thoughtful. Their first day back, in their beautiful new home, his darling omega made him an explosive home-cooked meal after he placed a bomb in the tuna casserole. He then shoved Eddie off a two-story balcony onto a bed of spikes and dropped a grand piano on Eddie once after he returned home from visiting his brother.

Argyle had been worried about Eddie given Steve’s love of pastels, but Steve proceeded to set their minds at ease by staging a family execution. It was then that they were all convinced that even if he dressed differently from them, Steve was still a Munson through and through. The rest of the family welcomed Steve with open arms, happy that Steve would be able to make Eddie absolutely miserable for the rest of their lives.

Even now, several months later, Steve was still looking after Eddie. He could feel his mate’s love as he drank the whiskey the omega prepared for him. His mate was feeling feisty today as Eddie could tell that he had dumped a full bottle of arsenic into the alcoholic drink then added two spoonfuls of rat poisoning for some zest. He honestly didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky as to find an omega who took care of his needs as well as Steve did.

“How’s your drink, dear?” Steve asked through gritted teeth.

Whenever Steve fixed Eddie a drink, he’d always hover around him, waiting for confirmation that the drink he made was especially murderous. Such as today, Eddie had been reading in his study when Steve brought over the drink he had mixed for him. He then proceeded to hover around the room, pretending to be interested in various items all while keeping watch through the corner of his eye for Eddie’s reaction.

“It’s positively poisonous as always, my pet. Your best work yet.”

Steve’s knuckles clenched until they turned white as he said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He then stormed out of the room, stomping his feet as he grumbled about adding more cyanide next time. It was flattering that Steve dedicated so much of his time to thinking of ways to please him, but a little worrying as Eddie thought the omega needed activities outside his devotion to his alpha, otherwise the spark the two had might fizzle out from overindulgence.

That’s why Eddie had decided to visit Argyle today, to get some advice as to how he kept his relationship with Jonathan from becoming stale. Eddie finished his drink then went to the attic door, where Steve sweetly spent most of his time plotting Eddie’s demise, and told him that he was leaving. Steve replied by shouting that he hoped the alpha’s van didn’t crash, which made Eddie swoon as his omega had clearly gone through the trouble of cutting his breaks.

Masterpost ~ Part 1.2

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #anon prompt #inthefamilyway

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brummelliana · 28 days ago

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I just played through CBML and... oh.. my god. I've been trying my best to not laugh out loud since it is almost 2 AM. I LOVED IT!!! I can't wait for the next game!

I've been scrolling through your Tumblr and you seem to know a lot about The Beatles. I've just recently started to get into the fandom. I'd just like to ask you for any book or film recommendations of the fab four? Like The Anthology book and the series or something like that. I would love to know more about them! They seem so interesting, yet so disturbing to an innocent eye..

God I don't know, my knowledge has been cultivated by so much stuff over the past 7 years. To be honest, I now just look up info I need rather than read or watch Beatles stuff for fun (besides what I mention later).

Tune In the extended edition is super super thoroguh, but it only goes up to 1962. That's right, 1000 pages (?) of just the beatles childhood and beginning of the band.

I haven't even read all my books, you know why? I spend all my time drawing bitch. I used to be such a reader. It does make it difficult when I know if I crack open a book it will be full of horrible events by these terrible naughty lads.

Just read any Biography that interests you, but keep in mind some biographers have their biases, or are less credible than others. I tend to enjoy ones that focus on a certain topic (like Beatles in Hamburg, or Beatles 1963) cause you'll have more specific information or anecdotes. The broader ones that are just about the Beatles, or about one Beatle tend to be of a similar length, and can't go into detail on everything, so tend to cover the same stuff.

I will say, don't rely on video essays or short form content (like tik toks!) for information, or at least don't take them as fact. There is a fair bit of fake info about these guys online, so be a critical thinker!

The most fun way to get a sense of the Beatle boys is to watch interviews and performances of the era. I've come to prefer straight up experiencing them from the source.

Watch the movies! A Hard Day's Night (especially considering my next game), Help!, Magical Mystery Tour, even Yellow Submarine and the Beatles Cartoon (peak).

Be careful though because post 60s Paul loves to be a fat lying slut and tells the same fucking stories over and over for literal decades. I used to have a cute little list of them.

The problem with documentaries is that they just turn into a really felatiatory circle jerk of people who really want to ride their dicks, which I find annoying.

The BeatlesVideos01 on youtube is a great source, they upload so many, there are a lot of gems of interviews and performances that aren't the most popular ones. KistuBeatles has a lot of great remastered videos.

Or right, Get Back. Watch get back, there's the beatles straight up existing for 6 hours. (even if its a very specific period for the group).

To be frank, I don't think I've watched Anthology all the way through, but I think I already heard the stuff they talk about in it, and it gets parroted in biographies cause it came out a while ago.

If you would rather look up info online (that isn't gen z slop), here are some websites I have bookmarked:

(this one has so many pictures, It was the biggest help dating all my photos)

Here's my personal as comprehensive as I can get archive of photos and videos and more!

Happy Beatling.

#thanks for the compliment I'm hard at work at my next game.

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on-a-lucky-tide · 6 months ago

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I can’t believe I’m about to say this as an American but, help me British man!

How are weights marked in the gyms over there? I know you guys use the metric system (like most of the world besides us) but I don’t know the nuances of where the weights are marked, what intervals they’re most commonly measured in and things like that. I know over here, the largest *common* weight for a loadable dumbbell is a 45 pounds but the fixed weights I’ve seen go up to like 70 pounds (and I’ve seen even higher on both but that’s in the big boy gyms) and the smallest is 5 pounds; where they usually ascend by 5 pounds a weight until they reach the max. God I hope this question(s) makes sense. I’m asking for fic reasons.

Sir, I am at your disposal. Because I am a visual person and I like to conduct research in the field: behold, images of the weights, which I took while gasping for air and wishing I could replace my left arm with Bucky's from Winter Soldier.

Dumbbells are in multiples of 2 from 4kg up to 50kg. Except near what I'll call the flex area ('cause of the giant mirror), where they have odd intervals.

Barbell has weight in multiples of 5 from 5kg here up to 25kg. Some places have higher I've seen but can't see why they would. There are also 2.5kg and 1.25kg discs around that I use for preacher curls. (Yes, I spent 5 minutes sorting this clusterfuck, I couldn't leave it.) Pre-weighted barbells too.

There are two types of cable machine we have here. The weight intervals are pictured.

Weights on some random machine. (Breeding bench, heh heh heh.)

If it's a CoD fic, the lads will be doing a lot of body weight work, cardio and explosive movements like box jumps. Not bulking too much cause they still need to be able to move and my powerlifting lads aren't quick. 😬

Bonus progress pic of your tour guide today: one aspiring otter heading home for a shower and protein shake (sunglasses recommended due to ghostly skin tone).

#mikey speaks #rawr lifts #gym cw #there are whole areas of the gym #the floor where i do sled pushes and rope pulls #and practice running with sandbags #all the machines too #squat rack cardio area

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love-and-deepspace-wiki · 4 months ago

Text

Linkon City Hall

Location: Unknown

Category: Administrative

Details:

Linkon City Hall serves as the primary means of communication between irl Infold developers and in-game Deepspace Hunters. While it has been repeatedly referenced in-game, it's physical location in Linkon City has yet to be revealed.

Speculation: Since irl city halls are the administrative headquarters of a city, this would suggest Linkon City Hall is located in Bloomshore District (since it is the administrative district of Linkon City). But this has yet to be confirmed in-game.

Thus far, it has facilitated the delivery of rewards, holiday messages, notices, and reminders.

During the "Touring In Love" event, it was revealed that the event was sponsored by Linkon City Hall (bottom right). Within the event, Deepspace Hunters have access to Linkon City Hall's Tour Guide booklet (left, top right).

Speculation: I initially found it odd that the Tour Guide booklet is sourced from the city hall, as opposed to the Linkon City Tourism Bureau. But this could be because it is specific to the Touring In Love event that the city hall sponsored.

Interesting Facts:

In the real world, city halls (also known as town halls, civic centers, guildhalls, or municipal buildings) are where local government conduct business. They are also where city residents can interact with city leadership and can get important documents like birth certificates and marriage licenses.

People who work at city halls typically include the following:

The mayor

City clerks

City council members

Administrative staff

Parks and recreation leadership

Police department/law enforcement leadership (Bloomshore District Special Task Force?)

Fire department leadership

Public works department head

Urban planning leadership

Etc.

Since many of these roles have yet to be expanded upon in-game, I'm excited at the possibility of more information about them! I want to meet the mayor!!

#love and deepspace #lads #lads linkon city #linkon city #lads linkon city hall #love and deepspace linkon city hall #lads tour guide #love and deepspace tour guide #lads touring in love #love and deepspace touring in love

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aeolianblues · 30 days ago

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Someone had sent a confession on alt rock confessions a while ago about how people immediately seem to discredit artists for having any training at all; if they come from a school or have been told anything about the music industry, they are 'being groomed' as if knowing about the industry isn't simply the only way of making good, informed decisions.

They've been doing that again on the Fontaines subreddit, it is so infuriating to me. Knowledge is power. These people's thinking is loosely along the lines of 'if you have the music industry equivalent of financial literacy, you are not pure of heart' which is just dumb and backwards. What the hell, man. Look at this nonsense, directly quoted off Reddit.

I happen to have been in BIMM at the same time and can tell you for a fact that the band were nurtured by the college. Not “manufactured” per say but definitely groomed into the industry. The same happened to The Murder Capitol (sic) also. It didn’t matter what these bands made they were going to get signed and were destined for success based of their connections, markability (sic. Ed: marketability?) and network. BIMM had classes called Artist Development where teachers would pair students into groups and cover songs as weekly assignments. A significant element of the bands image, style and aesthetic arose from those classes and assignments. The band still had to find their way afterwards and build an established reputation but a Lot of groundwork was done in BIMM before they took a foot into gigging and touring etc and most of it was guided by tutors. FDC (and TMC to a lesser extent) had years of experience and were well schooled in the music game a long time before they toured. Anybody that says otherwise is talking bollox, this is straight from the horses mouth of someone that went through the trenches with both of these bands and knows the story.

If you think spending an hour in classes where you write and cover songs is industry insiderism, you are insane. I am not a professional musician, and even I have sat in on these classes. I've built a portfolio of songs written during classes. It doesn't make me a professional musician. To say that these bands had an 'unfair advantage' because they... wrote songs in classes is insane. That's like saying anyone who wrote code as part of their assignments in my computer science class had an 'unfair advantage' over someone who didn't go to school, and so accordingly should be seen as a less good computer scientist than the pure-of-heart basement coder. You sound insane.

(I'm not going to even address the claims on their image. What 'image' did Dogrel-era Fontaines have? They were Just Some Guys who turned up and played music. If anything, their look was the 'metrosexual bearded city man' look of the 2010s. If my job was to tell people to grow their hair long and make a manbun a few years too late into the long-hair-and-manbun era, I would be bad at my job. It's not like they recommended designer Lady Gaga fits for the lads. Ffs. The only time Fontaines have had a look is now, aged 28, when Romance rolled out.)

Let's put aside these tepid claims and delve into those who say there are classes that teach you how to navigate your way through the music industry. If you're a musician on some path to a music career, you've probably been to some sort of industry event. Played or attended a showcase festival. They often have talks that are meant to teach you the same things. You can go ESNS for the entire week for €100. NXNE full fest passes go for $29. Canada Music Week (arguably more of an industry-mechanics event than NXNE) costs $75 for the whole weekend (they're renaming it Departure? What? Anyways). SXSW is a tech event now and I refuse to count it. Focus Wales costs £80 for the whole weekend. The Great Escape is £108.

What I'm saying is, you get a chance to do that networking, meeting people in your industry, those starting out, those who have already been where you've been. There will be people giving advice on what to avoid, what is a myth in the industry, what a record deal means. This is not an 'unfair advantage', these are things you SHOULD know if you're going into the music industry.

It sounds as wishy-washy as anti-intellectual sentiment about those who read being 'above' you or whatever. Knowing the first thing about the music industry just means you don't die penniless at the end of your life because a horrible record contract crippled your finances and life.

#music #musicians #Fontaines D.C.#but this goes beyond them boys #music industry #good for them if they went to school? That doesn't make a career #fontaines dc

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thewriterg · 2 years ago

Text

drowning, falling into you

pairing(s): miles morales x black!reader, mace morales (earth!42 miles) x black!reader, rio morales x black!reader, morales twins x punk!reader,

summary: In no shape or form did you see yourself in or wanting to go to Visions academy but you didn’t have much of a choice did you welcome the change with open arms? Hell no you happened to be angry at the world actually and you made sure to make it just about everyone’s problem

word count: 2.0k

warning(s): RUSTY Spanish, semi bullying, rocker reader, twins are like 17 pushing 18, descriptions of violence, stealing, reader can be read w an accent, wounds, and language

playlist; fiction (dreams in digital) by orgy,

A/n;—Pics from Pinterest— new series!? 🙀

she’s lost in coma where it’s beautiful, intoxicated from the deep sleep

You hummed out a response at your tour guide that you had been paying little to no mind to as the boy Kayden or Kyle you couldn’t quite care to remember showed you around your new school looking over a copy of your schedule accordingly and showing you which classrooms you had to make it to neither were you offended at the look you got when he saw all of your core classes were indeed AP

You walked behind the blonde with a slight stride in your step you were about an inch or two taller than him with the boots you wore giving you a boost in height also your electric guitar swayed gently on your back the neck of it peering over your shoulder while the body sat against the back of your thighs

“Well you’ve already got your dorm information, your locker, I think you’re all set” You now we’re in front of your first class how the hell were you going to get through a precalculus class as a junior at eight o’clock in the morning for the next seven months was beyond your comprehension

“Yeah, ‘preciate it mate” You muttered before taking a step into the classroom and just like every corny, cliche high school Disney movie eyes were on you but instead in usual desks they were all standing in various places of the classroom as the teacher a heavier dark skinned woman her gray locs pinned into a bun at the crown of her head as she stood with a clipboard originally reading off names before your presence interrupted

“You must be Miss y/l/n it’s wonderful to have you with us” The middle aged woman greeted not before double backing at your outfit that was no where near school uniform you stuck out like a sore thumb with your black leather jacket pins littering the the front and collar, your a size too big straight cut jeans black washed, and a old ripped in some places long sleeve shirt for the cooler November weather

“Y/n is fine mam, and I would say feelings mutual but I would be lying through my teeth” You could hear various snickers and giggles from around the room which you ignored waiting for further direction from the woman who sighed in tiredness any other time you would feel a slight bit of remorse for teachers who were not paid enough to do the job they did but today you couldn’t seem to care hell the school system was corrupted and narcissistic anyhow

“Well we’re in the middle of our seating arrangement change and who you’ll be sitting next to is the person you’ll be working with for the rest of the year” Not like you would be working with the poor lad anyway as time passed the occupation of seats were filled up some silently cheered at their shoulder partner while others groaned and soon you knew it your name was finally called

“Lastly we have Miss Y/l/n and Mr Morales” Mrs Brinker you had learned the woman’s name easily when it was being called over forty times in requests of a seat change called out directing you to your seat which you opted closest to the wall making sure to sling your guitar off your shoulder to sit it against it

“Hey I’m Miles! I know you’re new and if you want I can help you out and—” You watched the toffee toned boy with attentiveness which on his side looked like you were just glaring him down before you kissed your teeth opting your line of sight to the front of the classroom

“Okay” The brunette muttered awkwardly taking his seat next to you directing his attention to the smart board he had to admit that you reminded him of his twin a lot but he was still determined on getting you to speak to him… eventually

Whispering small comments to himself as Mrs Brinker went over practice problems over the board to refresh their memory over the weekend a sheet of paper was eventually passed back to you both with the instructions of one partner gets odd numbers one gets even and to finish the paper by the end of the class bell

Miles had never struggled with math but this section in particular was very difficult for him luckily it was only the second section but something about the law of sines and cosines didn’t seem to want to stick in his head so opting to look over at you and instead of working on your problems you were writing in some type of journal tapping your foot steadily even your resting face looked unapproachable

You and Mace would get along great

“Uhm do you mind helping on these last few problems… please?” The boy spoke out his last few words pleading as a squeak slipping through his teeth and he watched as you turn your body towards him a slight sigh resting on your lips as you did so

“X=1 so carry the X or the 1 whatever works best for your mental, over your total and then sum it together…” Suddenly in the middle of your explanation Miles forced himself to focus in on your voice scolding himself when his eyes drifted on your side of the two seat table along with the discovery of the small notebook had realized you’d finished your problems with the piece of paper he had to give you, he noticed you chose all odd number instead of even opposite of him who fought as if he was in war when it came to even numbers

Hed liked to think that you'd both get along fine… if he could get over the fear that settled in him when you looked at him with siren like eyes that had squeaks and helium sounds produced from his vocal chords the dark eyeliner around your eyes just enhancing the fact so with the missing part to his formula he finished the rest of his problems quicker than usual soon taking his and your paper up to the turn in bin making sure to staple it together before the fact just in time for the bell to ring

While students blared through the door out of the classroom when he was finally able to return back to his seat to get his books you were gone without a trace he didn't have time to dwell on it before he heard police sirens blaring in the distance he huffed looking up on the wall watching as the clock read 12;17 the longer red hand moving around the face faster than any other he had a conference at 12;45 as he contemplated his decisions

He could make it

💌💌💌💌

He could not make it.

“What took you so long?” He heard the distorted voice coming from a mask that could have sent chills down his spine, the looming presence that could make goosebumps rise up on his skin, could even make his knees shake.

“Got caught up in… traffic” The boy muttered the spandex of his suit clinging to his body while he could hear a deep chuckle from under the mask that made him huff

“Yeah well tell moms that you ‘just got caught up in traffic’ when she kicks your ass for being late” Miles could feel the eyeroll from under his twins mask as his claw swung slightly at his side his double braids sitting on his shoulders neatly

“Hah, so funny. What’s going on?” The slightly taller boy questions balancing off the balls of his feet as he scanned the street listening to Mace huff out a grunt in a response

“Some cow lookin’ joint, calls himself the spot. Perdiendo mi maldito tiempo, pregúntame.” The last fraise was muttered under his breath before he dropped down off the building his low gravity boots helping land smoothly and soon Miles was following after checking the time on his watch

12:27

The twins watched as the the… spotted being struggled to steal from an ATM politely asking the store owner who they referred to as “pa” to let him rob him… in peace chase him around the store with a bat in amusement Miles slipped a beef patty from the case into the microwave waiting for it to heat up while Mace simply watched the scene unfold sitting on the counter in front of the register eyes squinting behind the mask

“Why do people say ATM machine? The ‘M’ stands for machine.” Miles hung from the ceiling biting down on his snack mask pulled just over his nose watching as the… being scrambled to stand tall in his presence which sent him through another one of his own portals in response the teen jumped down from his place above the floor pushing the half of pa Lenny that wasn’t with the rest of him

“Ayo pa, how much we owe you for a beef patty and these chips man” Mace called voice even more gruff as his accent mixed with how distortion of the mask

“Prow, Spidey if you catch him? It’s on the house.”

“Woah Spiderman! This is real.” The spot hyped himself jogging in black while Miles watched him In nothing more than curiosity after he turned the isle to be faced to… black hole with him

“So are you like a Cow or… a Dalmatian?” He questioned in genuine curiosity causing a small chuckle from his twin that he wouldn’t have been able to catch without his enhanced abilities his attention adverting back to the criminal

“I am… the spot. We meet again Spiderman” Miles struggled to keep from laughing trying not to choke on the food in his mouth as loaf of bread fell through the portal of his stomach denying the accusations with his hands up

“So is that a costume orrr?”

“Unfortunately for both of us this is skin… you see I’m from your pas-” The vigilante interrupted the criminal as his phone went off causing the dotted figure to huff out a mock whine Mace checked his also getting the same notification he did fixing Miles with one look

“My bad but I really gotta wrap this up” shooting two different webs from the shooters on his wrist they traveled through a portal coming back to smack him in the face quite little as he struggled to get the sticky fluid off his mask the spot traveling out of the store before he followed chasing after him Mace sighed out a huff with a roll of his eyes sliding five dollars across the counter

“Keep the change”

💌💌💌💌

“Cant you just act like a regular supervillain so I can catch you!” Miles struggled traveling through different portals of the spot the scene was unpleasant to say the least while Mace softened the blow of things a new addition to his claw that lowered the faculty of gravity

“We’re crunching on time Hermano!” He called out after lowering a taxi to the ground after keeping it from crashing into another bodega

“Almost… done” The teen groaned dodging different fists that came from a portal before tying it with a web and before he knew it all different limbs of the spot were tied in web fluid the spot in the middle of it all after before running off

“Come back here nemesis!”

“And don’t escape!” He called back swinging from building to building Mace not far behind him on their way back to academy he was able to see the police cars he heard over all surrounding a local pawn shop that had probably got stolen from and was able to hear the head of police say something along the lines of

“That damn cat is becoming a pain in my ass”

💌💌💌💌

Hey… hey, how you guys doing 😖

Not going to lie to you started school in early EARLY August and these honors classes have been kicking my ASS.

I’m also In drama club, student council, & yearbook club so please bare with me

Trying to learn to balance everything out but I’ll get it eventually‼️

Also I’m so ready for autumn 🍂 <333

Enough with life updates,

More of the twins than anything to get us started but it’s okay because I’m HOPING to post every Monday or every other Monday

Also thank you guys so much for 1.4K I’ll start crying in here 😖

Have a good day and be safe writers !<;33 -G

#miles morales #mace morales #miles morales x reader #mace morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader #romance #fluff #fem!reader #angst #avengers x reader #avengers x you #i love you #thewriterg #2023

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uramilf · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write car sex with Matty

Absolutely I can 🫶

Backseat

Matty Healy x fem!reader smut

Warnings: SMUT. Oral (f&m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, spit, fingering, handjob

You and Matty were heading home from a small get-together at George’s house after the boys had played live on the radio that day, as a kind of going away party for them going back on tour. You were so proud of your boys, and you hugged them all tightly on your way out. “Bye lads,” Matty called as you finished saying goodbye to Adam and Carly. He placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you to the car, opening your door before jogging round the other side and getting in. He looked gorgeous with his hair falling in its natural curls around his eyes, and he was wearing blue jeans, his Harley Davidson sweatshirt and red converse high-tops. As he reversed out of George’s drive, you looked over at him and sighed contentedly. He was so beautiful without even trying.

Matty noticed you staring and smirked. “What are you looking at love?”

“I’m just looking at my pretty boyfriend,” you replied reaching over to touch his soft hair. He took one hand off the wheel and offered it to you, and you took hold of it. His thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand as you hummed along to the radio. Matty stole glances at you as he drove, smiling every time. His hand let go of yours and fell to your thigh instead, only moving every so often to switch gear before returning to the same spot. His hand crept a little higher, pushing the hem of your black skirt up.

“Do you know how sexy you look tonight darling?” he smiled.

“Shut up Matty,” you replied.

“I’m serious baby, you look beautiful. Always look so beautiful.”

You scoffed at him, replying with “as if. You’re the beautiful one, Matty. Half the girls in the world are going crazy for you right now. And when you go back on tour it’s just gonna get worse, because they’re gonna get to see your shows and I’m not even gonna be able to touch my boyfriend for months.”

Matty looked at you, an almost hurt expression forming on his face. He couldn’t believe you felt that way, as if he wouldn’t be thinking about you every minute of every day on tour.

Matty pulled over into a small, secluded car park beside a picnic site. It was abandoned entirely as it was nearly 1 in the morning. “What are you doing?” You smirked. Matty’s expression darkened slightly. “Get in the back.”

You clambered into the back seat of the car, knowing exactly what was to come. You were already getting wet just thinking about what he was going to do to you. Matty climbed in beside you and crashed his lips onto yours. Your head was tilted back against the window and he was hovering above you, one hand in your hair, controlling the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan. He swallowed every sound you made eagerly until he decided he could wait no longer. He kissed down your collarbone and yanked your top over your head, exposing your braless tits. He swirled his tongue around your nipple. “Baby, don’t you ever think that you’re not good enough. I love you more than anything else in the world. I need you, darling.”

With that you decided to take control over your beautiful boy, pushing him back until he was the one resting his head against the window. There was a bulge in his jeans and you ran your hand over it, making him cry out. “Darling, please! Touch me.” You helped him to pull his sweatshirt over his head, pressing a kiss to the area of his “We Are Kings” tattoo that was revealed above his jeans. You unbuttoned his jeans and slid them over his hips, along with his black boxers. His cock sprung out, hitting his stomach, hard and already dripping precum. You leaned down to take his tip into your mouth, sucking it for a few minutes. He was moaning, crying out your name, telling you how much he needed you. He fucked up into your mouth without warning, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, however this just spurred him on. He began a steady rhythm of fucking your mouth, making you gag every so often. Every sound you made caused him to let out a moan. He wasn’t holding back, as no one could hear him out here in the middle of nowhere. You pulled away from sucking his thick cock, pressing a kiss to his soft lips. You pulled your short black skirt up around your waist, revealing your lack of underwear to Matty, leaking him groan. He started to kiss him again, tongues fighting against each other. Meanwhile, you took his cock into your hand and began stroking up and down. He reached down and swiped a finger up your slit, collecting your wetness before using it to circle your clit. You cried out, covering your mouth quickly and looking around.

“Don’t worry baby, no one can hear us out here. I want you to be as loud as you can for me.”

You continued to touch each other, his fingers eventually pushing into your dripping cunt and fucking you harshly, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You were both crying out each other’s names, nearing our releases. Just as you came hard, seeing stars and feeling white hot pleasure throughout your entire body, Matty came too. Spurts of cum now decorated his tattooed stomach and chest. He was whimpering, his legs shaking as the last few drops of cum dripped down the side of his cock slowly. You tan your finger up his shaft, collecting his thick, warm fluid and sucking on the end of your finger. You used your fingers to scoop up the rest of the cum on his chest, raising your hand to his mouth where he opened obediently and swirled his tongue round your finger, tasting his own salty cum. He couldn’t wait to taste you later, but now he just needed to be inside you.

Matty pulled you by your hips closer to him, already hardening again. He lifted you up to straddle his hips, and you began sliding back and forward over his dick, causing him to throw his head back and groan. Finally you slowed, lifting your hips to line up with his hard cock. You slid down onto him, both of you moaning obscenely as he bottomed out. He took hold of your hands and looked in your eyes. “Are you ok, baby?”

You nodded, panting.

“Good girl, let me feel you darling.” You started to grind on his cock, lifting up before dropping back down, feeling him fill you up again and again. “Fuck, Matty, you’re so big,” you whimpered, leaning forward to kiss him anywhere and everywhere you could reach. You pressed kisses to his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and his gorgeous soft lips; and all the while he was grunting softly as he fucked up into you roughly. Matty let go of your hands, one hand falling to your waist and the other grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing and occasionally slapping, making you yelp in pleasure.

You continued to ride Matty’s cock, feeling every ridge of him as you moved up and down. You decided to switch things up, climbing off him and turning around before sinking back down onto his cock and bouncing up and down, giving him the prefect view of your ass bouncing on him. He kept slapping your ass every couple of minutes, leaving red hand marks on you, branding you.

You were getting closer and closer to your second orgasm, and so was Matty. He twitched inside you and yelled out your name as he came, his warm cum filling you up and pushing you to your own orgasm. You came with a loud moan, clenching around him. “Fuck Matty, I’m cumming,” you gasped. His hands caressed your waist, guiding you through your high. You lifted yourself off his cock and he pushed you down on the seat before burying himself between your thighs and licking through your wet folds. You cried out, sensitive from your orgasm. He was determined to catch every drop of his own cum from your cunt. He brought himself back up to meet your lips, spitting his cum into your mouth. You swallowed obediently and he kissed you hard.

“You’re perfect, darling.”

—————

A/N: Thanks for reading 😃 going to listen to Matty on radio1 now bye

#matty healy smut #matty #the 1975 smut #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #smut #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann

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anjelicawrites · 1 year ago

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Cringefail Throuple 💡

I’m loving all the new cringefail content! So so good! While I was reading the last fic, I couldn’t help wondering if you could tell us about a time the cringies went on a vacation together?

They’d take a train, obviously. Billy has gotten to a point where he can stand being in a car for short trips around town, but anything over about 15 minutes is still too much. This limited their destination somewhat, but the real limitation came from the fact that (1) Michael and Reader are students, and (2) Billy works in a pub.

They end up staying in the UK, going somewhere where they can all get the enrichment they need. Michael with his need to always be the smartest and show off his knowledge, Reader with medieval art and artifacts (she loves old swords and weaponry), and Michael with time he can spend with his boyfriend and girlfriend without having to worry about work, his family, or anything else that bothers him.

And of course, they make sure they get a room with a king sized bed…

Managing to decide the destination of your week long holiday with your boyfriends proved to be the more complicated part, even more than jotting down the actual itinerary, or pick the AirBnb you three were going to book.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

Warnings: kissing, grinding, titty sucking, implied fingering, implied use of ice cream during sex, being sunburnt, a bit of arguing.

Billy wasn't truly an issue, he was game with every location, as long as it was reachable by train, and wasn't London; you and Michael, predictably, butted head, both too stubborn to bend the knee and accept the other's suggestion, to the point that even Billy was starting to lose his patience and, one night, he had put his foot down: you three were going to Edinburgh, or not going at all.

Both you and Michael grumbled, tried to argue and Billy simply told you two to go back to your respective colleges, because he was truly tired of having to listen to the constant fighting.

Did you and Michael bicker during the whole walk back? Yes. Did you two try to pin the fault of having angered Billy on one another? Absolutely. Were you two a couple of extremely smart imbeciles? No doubt about that.

Planning your week in Edinburgh had been less of an hassle: both boys didn't really care about the AirBnB, as long as it was reasonably priced and the bed was big enough to house you three. You bought the tour guide and Michael wrote the budget needed to cover all your expenses (by dividing everything by three the trip became fairly manageable for everyone involved); no one expected the heath wave that hit Northern Europe during that last sliver of summer.

***

You three stumble into the small one bedroom apartment defeated by the heath and in a puddle of sweat. Both Michael and Billy are sporting suspiciously red cheeks and arms and are complaining that their scalps feel hot (did they wear hats the way you suggested? No); you saved yourself thanks to your black umbrella, yet being a goth in a heath wave is no joke!

In pure young lads fashion, your boyfriends leave their sweat soaked t-shirts on the floor, showing you the unwilling tan lines they are developing, even though they both used sunscreen: they are both so fair skinned that the sun has burned them nevertheless.

"It starts to itch between my shoulders." Michael whines.

Honest to God, the skin covered by his horrid t-shirt has reddened, him trying to actually scratch the hitch himself isn't helping; you have to bat his hands away and order him to the shower: you're not going to put after sun cream on his sweaty skin! Billy is in no better shape, in his case his scalp and nape have started to peel already and you can see his fingers itching to start scratching himself until he bleeds.

***

The cold water on your skin feels heavenly; you can't wait to put some cream on and slide into one of Billy's T-shirt, to simply lounge on the bed.

If you're not considering the weather, you're having fun listening to Michael show off his knowledge (mostly in the science related leg of the trip) and are loving all the museums you three are visiting; Billy is valiantly trying to stop you from buying from all the gift shops and ends up carrying your bags for you (unlike another boyfriend who says he's in love with you and bitches about it). It's a wonderful trip, and a much needed chance for you three to be together somewhere no one knows who any of you are: it's freeing.

The apartment is a literal shoe-box, thankfully it doesn't have direct exposure to the sun and it is cooler than the outside. Once you're done with your shower you slip inside the darkened bedroom and are welcomed by the sight of your boyfriends laying on the bed, both on their tummies to give some respite to their reddened shoulders and backs. They're both wearing their underwear and nothing else, their skin looks ruined.

"We don't have to go anywhere, right?" You can hear Billy moan.

You were supposed to still be out and about, but whatever attraction you three planned to visit can wait: it's truly too hot to function and you three can hole up in the apartment for the last two days, if the heath doesn't abate. This is supposed to be fun, not chasing death!

You grab the after sun lotion and kneel on the bed, between your lovers. You're trying to decide who needs the cream more when Michael turns his head and focuses his owlish gaze on you.

"You're naked." He states.

"That's what usually happens when a person takes a shower."

"Bring your boobs over here."

"Nope."

"Do it!"

You simply push on the reddened skin of his back.

"Shut up, let me do my job."

Michael yelps when the cold cream hits his overheated skin and he mumbles when you start massaging it on his back and arms: he's always a pain, he can't help himself!

Billy behaves better, as he usually does. He does hiss when you squirt cream on his ruined skin, but he thanks you profusely once you're done and are laying between them.

"Why aren't you as burned as we are?" Michael asks, still morose: there's a reason he doesn't like the outside world!

"I wear layers and the umbrella you made fun of truly helped!" You respond, blowing a raspberry for good measure and curling against Billy for protection.

"Come closer and do it again." He threatens, without real heath behind his words, he feels to tired to do anything.

"Can we please just have a nap?" Billy's voice is smaller than usual, he is truly knackered and his brain feels like mush.

"Do you want some ice on your head?" You ask.

You couldn't put the cream on his scalp and you fear layers and layers of skin will shed.

"I feel better." In the darkness Billy can feel your eyes focusing on his face. "I truly do. I'm not saying so not to worry you."

"You'd better." Michael says form behind you.

He feels too hot to cuddle you two, but doesn't want to feel left behind when you snuggle into Billy's chest, so he puts a hand on your naked hip, before falling asleep.

***

You wake up later, thoughts muddled by the long, unexpected nap.

"Billy?"

"He's gone out. Facing the heatwave to buy ice cream."

"Yeeee!" You squeal happily as you turn around.

Michael is peeling some dead skin off his shoulders, only to throw it on the floor.

"Stop doing that!"

"It's gone already." He replies, insufferable as usual.

"Still disgusting! Let it shed by itself before you truly hurt yourself!"

"Come closer and tell it to my face."

You do and, unsurprisingly, you find yourself on your back, to give Michael's ruined shoulders respite. Your lips are locked with Michael's, your tongues are battling for a dominance neither of you is ready to concede, your nails embedded in the meat of his ass to force him to move faster against your wet cunt, his erection delicious against your clit.

Billy's voice announcing he's back with ice cream is lost in the rumble of the blood in your ears; you whimper when Michael's lips leave yours, only to slide between your breasts.

"Took you long enough." He says, before latching on one nipple with harsh sucks.

You arch under him, your legs spread automatically for his hand to seek your drenched hole.

"Long queue."

You feel the mattress dip under Billy's weight, your mind barely registers the fact, too busy with the pleasure slowly building in your belly.

"Shall we start?" Billy then asks.

Alarm bells ring in your head: what?

One of Michael's hands grabs your wrists to keep you in place, the other pins one knee on the bed, to spread you for Billy, who has already opened the ice cream and has dished out two spoons.

"Your skin is so hot, it needs help cooling down." Michael says with a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Guys... boys..." You whimper.

"You always taste so good." Billy is blushing a fiery red, and not because of the sun.

"You'll thank us later." Michael adds, with a devilish smile.

Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess @moris-auri @lexwolfhale

Ewanverse taglist: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @zaldritzosrose

#answered #cringefail throuple

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