#obviously i still have a shit ton to say about this man

[hysteria-things]

TOUR (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader (definition of a titty man)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you surprise your boyfriend at his last show of the versus tour. you obviously had to wear the dress to it, but too bad matt has to wait until the show is over to do what he’s been wanting to do for a month.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluffy, swearing, titty fucking, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,245

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you guys are the literal best omg.

idk how i feel about this one but i do have a shit ton in the works that i can’t wait to share😇

the flight from LA to ft. lauderdale was close to five hours, and you were jet lagged.

especially since you had to take a late flight which didn’t help either.

now, you’re sitting in the uber that picked you up from the airport and texting nick.

it was his idea to have you fly out and surprise matt since everybody else is going to be there. chris knows too, and since he’s a blabber mouth at best, you specifically told him if he tells matt your secret you’ll cut his dick off.

by some miracle, nick and chris successfully snuck you to your room.

you didn’t bother unpacking your suitcase. instead, you kicked off your shoes and knocked out with your clothes still on.

it took a few knocks at the door to realize you weren’t dreaming them to fully wake you up. you groan, rubbing your eyes and shuffling to the door. “y/n! wakey, wakey.”

you open it, revealing a smiling nick with a brown bag in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. he holds them up in front of you.

“i got you food and your favorite iced coffee from dunkin’.” he says. “i can’t stay long because we’re heading to the venue soon, and you have to get fueled up. i know how jet lag can be.”

“thank you, nick,” you reply graciously, grabbing the things from his hands.

“i’ll send you the address and all that.” he tells you, turning 180° before spinning back to face you again. “also, you better have brought something stunning to wear. matt might actually faint from all the surprises you’ll be throwing at him all at once.”

he winks at you before going into the elevator to meet the others.

of course, you brought something stunning to wear. looking in the mirror, you’re wearing a navy blue dress. it’s the navy blue dress you were wearing in the photos matt jerked off to when you guys were on the phone.

you walk into the hidden door that leads backstage. the boys were there plus nate and justin. nobody noticed you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.

you heard matt talking to nate about how he’ll be his teammate, but the conversation mostly consisted of nate giving a lecture about how to not fuck up jenga.

you cross your arms and lean against the doorway. “maybe if you didn’t yank the jenga blocks out, the tower would stay up.”

their voices die down in milliseconds and turn to face you.

“what the fuck?” matt questions blankly. it seems like he’s trying to comprehend if he’s hallucinating or if you’re really here in ft. lauderdale standing in front of him.

when it clicks in his head that you’re indeed not a hallucination, he comes running over to you and engulfs you in a big hug.

he lifts you from the floor and holds on even tighter, not caring about the other people in the room.

to him, this moment is just about you.

“you’re not being slick, you know.” he whispers in your ear.

“what do you mean?” you reply in the same tone innocently, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

he doesn’t respond and puts you back on the ground. he glances up and down your body, before chris speaks up. “hate to break up this reunion, but we got small talk in like five minutes.”

matt has you underneath him flat on your back, the tour bus bunk is a little too small for the both of you.

your legs are wrapped around his torso as his lips hungrily kiss yours. the show ended an hour or two ago, and when everybody got settled into their hotel rooms, he snuck you on the tour bus.

his hands rub around your boobs and give a light squeeze, pulling his lips away from yours with a hum.

“remember when i said i wanted to fuck your tits?” he asks with his swollen red lips, not taking his eyes off of you as he starts to unbuckle his belt.

you lick your lips and nod.

“i wasn’t kidding.”

he yanks down his undergarments and pumps himself a few times to get fully hard. he takes the neckline of your dress and pulls it down to expose your breasts.

he groans at the site, fiddling them before adjusting himself so his tip is right under your boobs.

he pushes them together and slides in between them, throwing his head back and moaning. “oh, fuck.”

unlike the rest of your body, they are warm and cushioning, causing matt’s dick to throb at the feeling.

he doesn’t waste time and starts thrusting. the tip of him glides at your bottom lip with each thrust. all you do is stare at his acts, which is using your tits to get off.

the more he pleasures himself, the more you feel your arousal start to soak your underwear. without thinking, you open your mouth a little so your tongue kitty licks his tip each time he thrusts up.

he groans, looking at you through hooded eyes. “shit. keep doing that, baby.”

his thrusts starts to get sloppy, his hips jutting from time to time. “open wider. good girl.”

with that, he shoots his load on your lips and into your mouth. he uses his finger on your chin to make you close your mouth, tasting him as you swallow. he kisses your neck and collarbone, tracing his fingers on the hem of your panties before pulling them down.

he uses his thumbs to spread you open, seeing how soaked you are.

you whine, balling your hands on the front of his shirt. “matt, please.”

he kisses your cheek before putting his entire length inside of you, your slippery cunt making him have easy access.

you moan as he starts moving in and out. this time around, his thrusts aren’t hard and fast. instead, they’re slow and deep.

he doesn’t pull out all the way — maybe only an inch or two — to make his thrusts even deeper. your tits bounce slowly with his rhythm, and he never takes his eyes off of them.

eyes squeezed shut, you’re letting out short moans and whimpers, ecstasy flowing through your whole body.

fucking matt was phenomenal, but slow sex with him felt different. it felt more real and comforting; feeling safe in his touch.

“you’re so deep.” you exhale, the knot in your stomach starting to form.

matt’s head falls to the crook of your neck. “you’re taking me so well, baby. so, so well.”

his words cause your legs to shake at his sides, squirming from underneath him as you cum slowly around his dick.

he kisses your lips passionately as he pulls out, putting the last of his orgasm onto your stomach.

he falls softly on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you’re so much better than a stupid trophy.”

you laugh at matt’s saltiness because of his loss at jenga. “this mother fucker gave me the lecture about how to play jenga when he’s the one who knocked it down.” he continues to complain.

“jenga’s a stupid game, anyway.”

he looks up at you. “thank you.”

you laugh again, the both of you laying there and enjoying each other’s company. matt listened to your heartbeat, and you played with his hair softly, thinking about how much you missed your boy and nothing else.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @mattslolita

[queers-gambit]

Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

requesting rules and masterlist

[bomber-grl]

Damian Wayne relationship head-canons ♡

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Gn!reader (no specific pronouns)

I’m sure we’re all aware of how cold and indifferent Damian usually is

So he was definitely… something when you two first met

Ofc he begins to soften up and w/o being cringe, he’s definitely a tsundere

Like he feels love towards you but he refuses to admit it at times

Now, many people around you definitely were surprised when the two of you guys got together

No one expected Damian to actually love someone

Like???

Anyway

He’s not really into PDA

I’m sure we would’ve all came to the conclusion of this

He’s not very physically affectionate, at least not when he’s in the right state of mind

You see,

Giving Dhar Mann

He’s always on guard

Even with you

Sure, he loves and cares about you but he can’t help but have some sort of guard up

However, when you see sleepy Damian and try helping him into his room, he began spouting nonsense and cuddling into you

You were surprised by this but also the fact that Damian even let his guard down so much??

You totally mention it the morning after 😇

Anyway

You think Damian is a huge annoyance?

Yea well he becomes even more annoying after you begin dating

He’s just a silly little guy 🤷‍♀️

But yea, you think he’s a know it all now? 100x worse after

Poor you, man

Bro won’t even shut up until I threaten to reveal sum u heard him say during the time he was sleepy

Even then he threatens you and advises you keep your lights on at night 😔

Aside from him being a significant annoyance and being very aggressive, he’s also really sweet

It honestly surprised you since he was raised to be an assassin and is pretty emotionally constipated

He’s always gifting you stuff

They’re usually small stuff in the moment

Like little notes, origami, and just little candies or snacks that he has

If you mention how “cute” it is he‘lol ignore you for the rest of the week

But yea, and bro is rich too

So best believe he’ll be like those grandparents that but a shit ton of whatever you said you liked 5 years ago

You like hot Cheetos? Best believe he’ll buy them for you and throw them at your head then walk away

You’re like??? I told you I liked them last year and you’re still buying them for me?

Plus, as I said, he rich rich

So he probs buys u rich people shit

Idk what examples, I’m poor

So 😍😍 am I right?

And here you are with your lil notes and origami roses

Like damn

He claims he likes them but still

U gotta get rich bestie

Pretty much it

Honestly considering he’s a billionaire Bruce Wayne’s son, ima go ahead and guess theres a bunch of paparazzi and it’s all over headlines of your relationship once it’s revealed (by u or on accident)

And there’s obviously different reactions from different crowds

There’s fans who are upset that you “stole” their “man”

And then there’s the rest who don’t rlly care but are shocked depending on who you are and just cuz Damian never expressed interest in romance

You just love getting dragged online 😍

But he’s not their man he’s yours sooo🤭🤭

Extra- when you announced your relationship Tim rlly doubted it’s legitimacy

——————————————————————————

Authors note: hope u liked :))

[brossession-collection]

Becoming His Type (Male Possession)

"Ur a nice guy man! Seriously. But ur just not my type. Like 'em beefier haha. Happy to train ya still if you're okay with that."

Jason read the text over and over. "What a fucking douche" he thought, teeth clenched, as he gripped his phone.

Two weeks ago Jason had built up the courage to talk to his beefy gym crush, Carson. Jason wasn't the biggest dude. His 5'8 frame and 155lb stature wasn't anything to brag about, but he had gotten to a lean athletic build that he worked on for months. He thought, atleast, Carson would hold a conversation with him now that he was kinda lean.

And he did. Carson nodded at Jason as he walked up, Jason quivering as he asked the big guy if he had any diet tips.

The two hit it off, or at least that's what Jason thought. "Hey I gotta get back to my set bro, but what say we keep chatting later? You free tomorrow morning?" Carson's deep voice put Jason into a horny stupor. He repeated his question which brought Jason back to earth.

Later that night...

Jason sat up in bed, rubbing his b*ner, as he thought about Carson's thick biceps and pillowy pecs. "I can't believe he fucking TALKED to me!" Jason squealed as he tweaked his nipples, imagining Carson wrap his arms around him, the smell of his musky armpits wafting into his nose. He barely remembered anything that the big jock actually said, but he couldn't care less. Jason drifted off as his fantasy turned into a dream.

The next morning at the gym...

"And that's all there is to it bro. Track the macros, eat a ton of protein, and don't stop bulking for a year. Then you'll get a belly like mine heh." Carson gave his protruding stomach a slap as Jason winced while he watched the strong mass jiggle.

"W-wow uh yeah I'd love that..." Jason managed to get whimper out. "I-I mean... yeah! I'll definitely do that! M-m-maybe you could also show me some exercise tips?"

"Hah sure little guy we can have a first sesh. On the house." Carson got off the bench he was sitting on and nudged (pushed) Jason down. "Let's see what you got baby. Bench presses first.

Jason then worked his ass off the entire morning to try to impress his crush. Every once in a while, he'd notice Carson looking off across distance, obviously eyeing a big bear slightly older than him. Carson would eventually get back to Jason, but the lean man knew something was up

Later that night...

"What the hell should I text him? 'Thanks for hanging with me earlier big guy wanna date?' 'You're super cute wanna cuddle?'" Jason lied in bed anxiety-ridden.

He saw a text come in instead.

Carson: "Sup Jason how ya doing?"

Carson: "Muscles aching yet? Srry if it was too much for ya."

Jason flinched for a second before typing back. "Oh sup Carson. Yeahhhh haha kinda hurts."

He waited for a second before sending another text.

Jason: "oh and thanks for the session today dude I appreciate it"

Carson: "yea bro anytime. Need more good looking guys like you getting big"

Jason blushed as his boner came in. "Should I just ask him out?" he thought. "Fuck it."

Jason: "Yeah! I'd love to keep doing this with you man. You're super hot. Honestly could be fun to date if you're down."

Jason put down his phone in fear. He felt a vibrate and slowly picked it up.

Carson: "Bro what lol"

Carson: "Shit sorry man didn't realize you felt like that."

Jason gripped his phone as he watched Carson type.

Carson: "Ur a nice guy man! Seriously. But ur just not my type. Like 'em beefier haha. Happy to train ya still if you're okay with that."

Jason felt his teeth clench. He stopped texting and threw it onto his night stand. "What a fucking douche," he thought. "Dude just saw me as another client. As a walking fucking money bag." Jason felt tears start to streak down his face.

The next morning at the gym...

Jason watched from a distance near the locker rooms as he saw Carson laughing with the muscular daddy bear he was eyeing yesterday. "He already fucking forgot about me" Jason muttered under his breath.

He squinted as he watched the two big men take their phones, possibly to exchange numbers. With a grin, Carson gives the man a hug before the two walk off in opposite directions.

"Oh shit he's coming this way!" Jason started to whistle as he the big bearded daddy strut past him to go into the locker room. Jason shuddered as he noticed the pure gargantuan size of the man. "Fuck... He's huge."

For some reason, Jason felt compelled to follow the bear. He hopped into the locker room and watched as the man posed in front of the mirror and took a selfie.

"He's probably sending that to Carson..." Jason thought.

Suddenly, the big guy turns around and sees Jason stalking him.

"What the fuck do you want twink? Been seeing you follow me around all morning."

Jason flinched from how direct the huge man was. "U-uh fuck I'm sorry man!" Jason wished his voice was more threatening.

"Answer the question: what the fuck do you want?" The bear came closer, ready to shove Jason. "Get the fuck outta my way!"

Jason felt his frail body smash into the wall, his back taking the full brace of the impact as his vision started to blur. He saw the big feet of the man step next to him before he blacked out.

...

...

In a snap, Jason felt his torso lurch up as he came back into consciousness. But something felt off. Jason looked down.

"WHAT THE FUCK!? Wh-why are my hands... BLUE?" Jason looked at his palms incredulously before glancing further down at his physical body slumped beneathe him. His blue ghostly form sticking out from the pelvis-up.

In the corner of his eye, Jason saw the big bear standing around. "Fuck. Didn't realize he'd go flying." He heard the man say.

Jason got up with virtually no pain, seeing his ghostly ectoplasm oozing off his limbs as he leaves his physical form. He looked up at the big man, anger seething through his ephemeral form.

"Oh you're gonna fucking pay for that man! I don't care how big you are!" Jason yelled. The big man, completely unaware of Jason, just picked at his nose before kneeling down to check on his victim's pulse.

"Kid's still got a heart beat. He'll be fine." For a split second Jason felt some compassion come from the bear, which all shattered as he saw him spit at his corpse. "Fucking stalker. Better not be here when by the time I'm done showering."

Jason pounced at the man, attempting to claw at his big shoulders. The bear fell forward onto all fours before looking around in a panic. "What the fuck was that!?" he yelled into the empty locker room.

Looking down at the beefy bear with his ass up in the air, Jason had an idea. "If I'm a ghost, maybe I can..." Jason connected the dots in his head before acting out his plan.

The big man started to get up before he felt his body get pinned down by something that felt like a foot. "OooFFF" he groaned as the air left his lungs.

Jason had to work fast. He reached down and carefully attempted to grab the man's waistband. He felt a tactile sensation and grinned before pulling it down to expose the man's bulbous cheeks.

"AAHHH wh-what's going ON!?" the bear whimpered as he felt a cool air skim his cheeks.

Jason eyed as the sweaty, hairy, musky mounds jiggled before slowing to a stop. He'd never been this close to such a big *ss before, and it was causing Jason to get a huge ghost b*ner.

The bear started to panic as he felt a slimy, cold finger run down his tight crack. "A-ah f-fuck!" he moaned as the finger playfully pushed in and out.

Jason grabbed both of the bear's *ss cheeks and ripped them apart, exposing his surprisingly loose *sshole. He glanced down at the pulsating hole, questioning for a second if he was really going through with this.

"Hope that Casper movie wasn't bullshit! Coming through!!"

The bear winced as he felt something larger than a d*ck shove itself into his *sshole. "Ho-Holy SHITTT!!!!"

Jason gripped onto the bear's cheeks as he used them to push into the man's tight hole. Suddenly there was a "POP" and he realized he was in. "Fuck yes! Here I come big guy!!!" Jason yelled happily.

The bear looked around in a panic as he heard a familiar voice echo in his mind. His mind quickly turned to his physical sensations, though, as he felt slimey shoulder squeeze in. "OOOOF!" he groaned.

With a giddy smile on his face, Jason tunneled through the dark expanses of the bear's body. His arms and tight lean waist slipped in as the bear groaned uncontrollably.

The big guy mustered all his strength to turn his head, only to see blue lean legs and feet protruding out of his asshole, inching their way deeper and deeper in. "F-f-fucking HELL!" was all he could yell as the crammed sensations worked their way up his torso.

Jason, torso-up inhabiting the bear's body, reached down to pull his small dick through the asshole. Suddenly, he felt the rest of his legs slurp themselves in too.

The bear felt himself getting filled up to the brim as another being literally shoved himself into all the crevices of his fat body. His yells reaching it's loudest as he felt the blue ectoplasmic feet slide in with a "PLOP!"

The bear reached back and pawed at his loose asshole, scooping up the ectoplasm that was left behind. He tried to get up but lost his balance as he felt the ghost inside of him lurch forward.

"Here comes the fun part fatty!" Jason yelled with a mocking chatter. Jason wasted no time shoving his limbs into the man, pressing his arms and legs into his vessel's like gloves and boots.

The beefy bear, finally having gotten up, felt his body start to dance around beyond his will. His right arm flailed as his left hand tried to stop it before betraying him and slapping him on the face. "Fu-fuck! GET THE FUCK OUT OF ME" he yelled at his belly wiggled uncontrollably.

Jason shoved his hard c*ck into the bear's girthy one, filling it up like a sheathe. His lined up his ghostly balls with his host's tennis-ball sized one, feeling them expand with a "POP" "POP".

The bear, pounding at his belly to get the invader out, suddenly lost control of his arms and hands as they reached down to stroke his huge 8in d*ck and finger his fat ass. He heard a laugh followed by a "BOOM" as his butt and legs filled up with ectoplasm.

With the bear's hands and feet under his control Jason realized there was only one step left.

"Puh-puh-please m-man! G-get out of- *gurgle*" The bear's neck started to bulge as Jason hurriedly squeezed into his host's head. The bear gasped for air as he gagged on ectoplasm, the pressure in his brain close to popping before-.

...

Jason opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his belly filling up and stretching out the tank top he was now wearing. "Oooh fuck yeah" he cooed, using the bear's sexy voice for the first time. He looked down and immediately reached for his beefy pecs, massaging his new nipples with his host's stubby fingers. They were sensitive, hard-wired to his new girthy c*ck as he felt his sweaty jock stretching to the limit. He pulled his waistband back up and felt the airy fabric wrap around his fat ass, immediately nesting between his cheeks.

"Can't believe it fucking WORKED. Hell YEAH BABY! I'M A FUCKING BEAR!" Jason danced around a bit, waving his new jiggly belly around in the air before he heard the door to the locker room open.

Jason watched as one of the bodybuilders stumbled in, so distressed from the workout that he didn't even notice Jason's lean body slumped against the wall. He tiredly glanced at Jason, who was at eye-level with him, and muttered a "How's it going Roy" before walking deeper into the locker room.

Jason's heart skipped a beat, but then calmed down as he realized that no one can tell. He walked up to the mirror and grinned at his reflection as he crossed his arms. He was fucking HUGE.

Jason felt sweat drip down from his forehead, chest, and pits. He carefully lifted his new beefy arms and immediately got hit by a wave of ripe musk. "Fuuuuuck. I smell so... GOOD" he moaned, using Roy's vocal chords. "Not gonna wash these pits" he chuckled.

In the corner of his eye, Jason glanced at his old slumped body. "Damn. I'm so fucking tiny... No wonder I flew into the wall" he reflected. Jason daydreamed for a second, then realized he could live out a huge k*nky fantasy of his. He picked up his old body with ease and took him to a secluded part of the locker room.

Jason started to eagerly rip off his old body's clothes, pulling down his pants and revealing his musky thin yellow briefs. He slipped them off and took the briefs up to his nose, taking a deep inhale of his old musk.

With a smirk, Jason dropped his host's Size XXL gym shorts and jockstrap, revealing his girthy hairy cock. He then started to slip on the Size S yellow briefs up his thick tree trunk legs, making sure the fabric didn't rip. Jason grinned as he felt the tiny briefs get eaten by his new gigantic asscheeks. He grabbed both of his cheeks with his meaty paws and ripped them open, making sure the fabric would touch his new musky *sshole like a thong.

"Ohhhh fuuuck yeah!" he groaned, as he sealed the entrance that he came in from. His d*ck was leaking profusely, more so than his old one did.

Jason pulled his host's shorts up. He grinned at the fat *ss in the mirror before he felt his new phone vibrate. "That who I think it is?"

He unlocked his phone and saw "Carson" had texted him.

Carson: "Hey handsome. What are you up to tonight?"

Jason couldn't help but chuckle, his big belly jiggling with every heave. He pawed at the keyboard with a huge grin.

Roy: "Hey baby. Nothing much. You wanna get k*nky tonight?"

Jason shoved Roy's phone into his pocket before running out of the locker room in a hurry, his big a*s jiggling with every step. His phone vibrated a ton, but Jason knew he needed to do something before he replied.

Later that night...

Jason stripped naked and laid in bed. He opened up his camera and saw the handsome grizzly face of the man he possessed. "Don't know how much time I have in you man but I'm gonna take advantage of it. Gonna get you real k*nky. Make you say shit you'd never say. And I bet Carson would do anything to fuck your musky fat*ss." Jason reached down to finger Roy's *sshole before giving his finger a lick.

"Haha. Alright alright enough fun. Got a video to send to a lucky guy."

Jason started to record.

FIN

[layraket]

guys. i could say that im very normal abt the update. but that would be a lie. and lying is bad. yeah. im nothing close to normal abt this whole thing im deranged.

theres so many details here.

Time seems to be more calm, the last update he was at the verge of screaming (to shut them all? to call for help to control all these links? who knows) now he looks very thoughtful, taking in every detail of the whole place to see if he can get some sort of puzzle solved

This question i feel like it has more impact that it looks at first, a lot of people are pointing out the little owl friend we saw at the first doodles of the AU, yeah the owl in oot was a yapper in all rule, but he was some sort of guidance during his journey

Twilight connects the owls to Shad, a guy who has a lot of knowledge and can help him at any moment if he needs some sort of information, Four remembers the owl that helped the colors during his second adventure, and Legend connects the owls to the statues in Koholint, together with the owl that gave him hints to where he had to go

Here it is made clear the point that i was talking before: Time recognizes that even if, for a kid, it was just an anoying bird, he helped him in some sort of way, and he should appreciated that small detail

beautiful art there's so many birds here im delighted so happy i've been staring at this for already 6 minutes beautiful

Owlan! as someone who also has slept during class so many times i dont blame Sky at all

also can we talk about how cool is Owlan's design??? like why i haven't seen anyone commenting abt it???? the yellow feather just makes me thing of the loftwing that we had to chase during the start of sksw, and i love that small detail so much

and Sun!! Finally she got a canon apparition, and of course it is with Sky sleeping during class lol

going back with what i was saying before, yeah he can thank Kaepora Gaebora all he wants, but man did that bird talk so much

love that expression 10/10 no more notes needed

EMO RULIE EMO RULI-

putting that joke aside, Hyrule seems to be more careful inside a dungeon, sure he can try and explore all he wants outside, but he knows very well the dangers of a dungeon, and he would like to no take any risk that could put them in danger while he can help it

I love the continuity of the comic, we all knew these were the same statues as the one that Twi used to separate them from Sky, but seeing it being portrayed in the comic is a detail that i think we all appreciate

Twilight my guy you cant go and look all that innocent we know your tricks

also Sky still remembers that time, seeing Legend as a bunny will not be easily forgotten. And Legends knows it

it doesn't mean that he likes that little fact

here i have things to say, it makes sense that the antifairy goes first for Legend, he's like. one of the most magic-based of them. Sure maybe Hyrule is our special wizard guy, but the vet uses a shit ton of magic weapons, he has to have a crazy amount of magic with him adding the rings he has

Also them all ready to defend their vet, yeah it might not be fully dangerous, but they will show no mercy to whatever dares to hurt one of them (a silent promise that they all made with the Twilight situation)

Time's attention is instantly gained with the mention of a Fairy, he doesn't sees too much of his friends in that thing, and that gives him a bad feeling of why the name

i could easily do a well thought comment on how he's magical girl material but i think with only that description enough was said

Only with the thought of one of his fairy friends having such destiny makes Time be disgusted, a Fairy turned into an enemy? Doesn't sound right, it isn't natural and just cruel for the poor fairy

also Wind was ready to catch her, he knows how valuable are fairies during a dungeon, you never know when you will need her help

Warriors during his adventure he made friends with the fairies, so he obviously will have something for her

he's like a mom who knows her children very well and will carry any treats for them, not beating up the mom/aunt of the group allegations

and Wind give the poor fairy some time before entering the bottle, she must be confused :(

this last pannel is everything to me, very cool very beautiful i love thsi comic so much

now my fav pannels as usual!

beautiful art as always every time i see a new update i get surprised by all the details

if you noticed a lot of Four in the last few images shushhh

as always, art credits goes towards @linkeduniverse!

[azaarchiive]

☆ blackout - tooru oikawa

note; a cute little fluffy one shot about a blackout in your neighbourhood and what you both do to pass that time ❤️. gn reader, use of petname (baby), suggestive jokes, you and oikawa are married, time skip oikawa, they are in argentina (this doesn’t add anything to the plot but it’s just fun to know). 999 words

in a blink of an eye, the house was engulfed in darkness. a shrill shriek from tooru echoed within the apartment you both shared.

“are you ok?” you yelled out to him, only to be met with no response.

you quickly obtained your phone, turned on your flashlight, and went on a manhunt for the man himself.

he wasn’t hard to find, as his tall figure was already coming out of the shower, only covered with a towel, still slightly soapy. a dejected look plastered on his perfect face as he tried to dry himself from his unsatisfying shower.

“well this sucks, you would think that since we pay a shit-ton of money to live here, we would at least have the ability to enjoy a shower.” tooru rolled his eyes as he whined childishly.

your eyes, however, were glued to his wet, muscular chest, illuminated by your flashlight from your phone. your initial worry washed away at this sight of his damp hair that stuck to his forehead and his body gleaming due to the water, enhancing every detail of his muscle.

“wow, so while we’re going through a crisis, all you can think about is sex?” tooru joked as he waved his hand in your clearly distracted face.

“um- actually, i was thinking of ways to keep us safe.” you lied, hiding your giggled through a bright smile.

“does it involve my naked body?” tooru took a couple steps closer towards you, wrapping his arms around you which, in result, dampened your clothes.

“tooru! your making me wet.” you complained, trying to push him off which was proving futile. this was the same guy that could lift twice your weight at the gym so you were definitely trapped.

“you are just begging for it, aren’t ya’ ?” tooru smirked as you got more flustered.

“tooru, we are in a crisis and all you can think off is sex? you are a terrible person.” you joked, mimicking what he said earlier as he finally let you free of his tight grip.

tooru laughed in response before sighing and looking around, remembering the situation they were currently in.

“well… what do we do?” tooru asked, leaning on the wall next to him.

“hm..” you put a finger on your chin as you thought of possible (family friendly) activities that you both could do.

“i have an idea!” you finally said after a beat of silence.

“ok, you get dressed quick and come downstairs as soon as you can!” you ushered tooru into the bedroom and slammed the door while giggling. you ran down the stairs to get started on your master plan.

tooru, on the other hand, was a little dazed from the sudden rushed conversation, but nonetheless, decided not to question it. tooru could tell you needed time to prepare so he took his time changing, trying desperately to ignore the clattering of many objects that echoed from downstairs to the bedroom. however, he had trust in you.

(maybe too much trust but his love for you would never allow him to say that)

before he could even register, he heard a call of his name from you. tooru finalised his comfy clothes with a pair of fuzzy socks that had your face printed on them, courtesy of his truly.

tooru soon left the bedroom and made his way downstairs, slowly stepping down the stairs whilst hearing your shuffling towards the bottom of the staircase.

“are you ready?” you asked him.

“are you going to kill me?” tooru replied, your figure soon coming into his field of vision as he almost finished travelling the flight of stairs.

“baby, if i wanted to kill you, i would’ve done it the night we married.” you explained.

“what the- why?! not to mention, that answer was way to quick for my liking.” tooru whined, soon coming face to face with you.

“the money, obviously. you were so obsessed with me that i don’t even think you would mind me stealing all your cash.” you wrapped your arms around him, a teasing smile dancing on your lips.

“i probably wouldn’t, unless you were going with another man. then i would just go batshit crazy.” tooru chuckled, moving forward to place a peck on your lips.

both your lips connected for only half a second, but it felt longer as you pulled away and stared into each others eyes. the maze with each others orbs that both have spent years learning and searching now feeling easy to navigate. the marriage you both had was easy to navigate because you both loved each other in ways no one could ever understand or imagine.

“what’s the surprise you had for me, hon’ ?” tooru asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you stepped aside and watch him marvel at your work.

it was a pillow fort. candles were lit up everywhere which explained the random influx of a vanilla scent wafting through the apartment and random assortments of pillows and blankets were thrown to make a fort. a bowl of fruits were placed neatly on the desk table beside the fort and contained a variety of different fruits, all tooru’s favourite.

“fuck, how the hell did you do this in such a short amount of time?” tooru questioned, staring amazed at the highly illuminated living room.

“i don’t know, just got them skills, you know?” you laughed.

“well, it’s beautiful princess. come, we need to go in there, now!” tooru dragged you towards the fort, giggling as you both snuggled into the pillow fort.

“now that i’m thinking about it, this probably isn’t safe.” tooru raised his eyebrow.

“you’re such a loser, like just have fun you party pooper.” you jokingly rolled your eyes.

“oh fuck me for wanting to live.” tooru laid back on the ground, you shortly followed him and laid down right in his chest whilst he put his arm around you.

“yeah, you’re ruining my master plan to kill you and steal your money.” you giggled.

“oh i apologise, next time i’ll abide by the plan and die gracefully.” tooru dramatically responded, to which you responded in a sweets smile.

you’re so happy you married him.

[spidernuggets]

hi hiii love ur stuff, may i req hcs about jason dating a super femme girly girl, like wears mKeup, wears bows in her hair, gets her nails done n stuff etc? Also being a civillian, im ngl i feel like he’d be super protective, but i just think it would be so cute and he’d be the scary gaurd dog bf lmaoo

been waiting for a request forEVAH

Jason Todd x GirlyFem!Reader HCs

I feel like he'd date a very girly girl who is a hoarder and does not keep things in place. Like you have a shit ton of different types of mascara, concealer, pink eyeshadow. And when Jaspn mentions why you have so much pink eyeshadow, you claim that it's one shade for different occasions.

You also have a huge collection of accessories

Hair accessories, rings, bracelets, earrings

And with all these collections, you tend to lose them all.

"Jason!! Where's my pink bow!!" "You mean this one?" "Jason- No! That's Flamingo pink! I'm looking for Lemonade pink!"

He would help you choose what nail design to pick from when you get your nail done. You like your nails a little longer than average, but Jason's worried that they would easily break, bht you assure him that you're used to them.

In the end, he chooses red and pink nails (to have your nails match with his colour too 🤭🤭), with white pearls and heart charms.

You tell him he can come back later because you'd think that he would hate to wait around for your nails to get done. But Jason is an absolute sucker for you. You can have like a 5 hour nail appointment and he'd still wait with you.

You like wearing short skirts, and you always wear shorts underneath just in case, but Jason is so paranoid. He doesn't want others to look at you. He always thinks he's overreacting, but that doesn't stop him from walking close behind you while the two of you are out.

Even though you have so many accessories, every birthday, anniversary, Christmas, and such, Jason would always gift you with a more expensive piece of jewellery. Like for your anniversary, Jason gifted you a Swarovski necklace that had pink roses around it. And you never take it off unless you're showering our plan to head out in a crowded place and you'd be scared of losing it.

I think girly reader would wear very graphic makeup. Like pink hearts and white sparkles everywhere or butterfly wings on the outer corner of your eyes. When you're unsure of a makeup look you wanna do, you'd ask Jason to be your model. He'd groan and let you try your makeup on him, but he makes you swear you won't tell any of his siblings.

And when your face lights up, thinking that the makeup look on him was perfect, you rush out to do it on yourself, and he thinks if your face looks like that every time you just put makeup on him, then it's worth it.

Sometimes, when you go clubbing with your friends, you'd assure Jason that you'd be fine on your own, but the both of you have a worried feeling in your guts. So when you leave, you're kind of hoping Jason is following you. And obviously he is.

So when some big, strange, older man comes to try to feel you up, you shove him away, telling him you have a boyfriend. But him being stronger than you, he continues to push.

Luckily, your bigger and stronger boyfriend comes to help you, reminding the weirdo that you have a boyfriend. Jason doesn't need to say mire because the man is running away like a scared dog.

Your friends swoon over Jason, but you don't need to worry about being jealous because you already know how much Jason is devoted to you.

Since he's already there with you, why not enjoy yourself with him while you're both at the club?

You'd ask Jason if you can have matching nails with him. It didn't need to be acrylic nails. You just wanted the colours to match . And unfortunately for Jason, he could never say no to you.

So he glares at his siblings, especially his brothers, when they try to question his choices of colours painted on his nails.

Whenever the two of you are together at home, watching a movie or something, he loves to have you sit on his lap, especially when you're wearing a skirt, wink wink.

You try to match outfits with him without him knowing. He noticed, of course. So he's wearing his iconic brown leather jacket, you're wearing your light pink leather jacket.

You'd teach Jason how to style hair, so every now and again, you'd ask him to do your hair for you, obviously decorating it with a bow.

Eventually, when Jason tells you about his alter ego, Red Hood, you think he's the coolest and bravest man alive, in comparison to Jason's initial idea of how you'd react. He'd think that you'd drop him, leaving him on his own.

But when you meet some of Jason's female friends and colleagues, you get jealous that they're more skilled, brave, and closer to Jason's occupation than you'd ever be. Especially when you find out that some of them, like Rose Wilson and Artemis Grace, used to have some sort of romantic relationship with him.

So, for the first time in a while, you start to doubt your position in your relationship. You start wearing darker clothes, darker eyeshadow. Hell, you stopped wearing bows for a while!!

Jason quickly notices this and asks worryingly why the drastic change in appearance.

And when you confess it's to be similar to his exes, he takes the black leather jacket off you, takes a bow laying nearby (there's always at least one or two bows lying around wherever you are) and places it in you hair, giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

He assures you that he doesn't need you to be or look like them.

Because it was you who he fell in love with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This turned into a half oneshot for a hot second.

[octuscle]

Support dude, it’s me again, Mike. I hit you up so much I feel like I should pay you. And hey if you need that, I’ve got you just tell me. I owe you a shit ton, dude. Since you last helped me, Jack and I tied the fucking knot (and had a hell of a honeymoon haha hadn’t gotten so many noise complaints since high school) and I even moved into his place. Real big and nice like, would make a suburban man cream his pants and even a socialite would do a double take. For as filthy as he can be with me, big boss knows how to fucking live.

But I wouldn’t be hitting you up if everything was all sunshine and rainbows, eh? (Though one of these days I might convince Boss to let you in on our thing for a night or two, just to say thank you if that’s a thing you wanted wink) One of the neighbors apparently doesn’t like it so much when I invite some of the guys at work over for our, let’s call em team bonding events. He bitches and moans about how loud and rowdy we get and how it’s ruining the value of the neighborhood. I almost kicked his ass the first time he came by all bossy and shit, but Boss told me he was President of their HOA or whatever the fuck and that I couldn’t. So I’ve been trying to ignore the prude but if he comes over and ruins another good night I might lose my cool and I don’t wanna let down Boss like that.

Any way you can make the neighborhood meet our lifestyle choices better, dude? I don’t wanna give up this lavish living so soon, it’s nice as hell. But I don’t want it to change me. I wanna change it! Ain’t no reason we can’t live it up without being able to get down if you catch my drift. Can you help me?

I have not invested so much time in my favorite customers, so that you now become adapted suburban bourgeois. So it's time for me to take care of your neighbor. He may be the president of the HOA, after all. But that doesn't give him the right to regulate your private lives. But I could add a little spice to his.

Actually, the boring buffer is not a visitor to the gym. Thank God. So at least you have peace from him there. But today he feels like working out his muscles. And of course, when he enters the locker room, you run right into his arms. And the slimy ass-kisser can do nothing but shake your hand in a friendly way, as if you were best friends. Oops, sorry that your towel slips down.

Normally you are hard as granite when you come back from training. At the sight of your neighbor, the 8 inches dangle limply between your legs. He still seems impressed. To warn your man, you send him a quick message about what to expect during his workout. And write him that you are already preparing everything for dinner at home. "Everything is fine, stallion! daddy wont b disturbed during his workout. Ill b home in 2 hrs"

Your neighbor is blocking the very stations where Jack wants to work out. He has memorized the gym rules and points out every pissy infraction to your husband. In the beginning. But the more Jack sweats, the more musk he exudes, the hornier your neighbor gets. And slowly he starts to change. Actually, sleeveless tops are not allowed in the gym. You both don't care. And your neighbor now too. With the white wifebeater he looks almost like Jack's gym buddy. And he's starting to smell like one, too. It's hard to believe that just a few minutes ago he was the overgroomed suit guy. His armpit hair is sprouting. He obviously hasn't been to the barbershop in a few months either. He stops regimenting your husband. The two of them start working out together as if they've been doing it forever. Steve (your neighbor) can't get enough of having Jack's sweaty workout shorts hanging in front of his face during the bench press. His bulge gets bigger and bigger. And the damp spots in his shorts aren't just from sweat. Jack asks if it's not time to go to the locker room. Steve replies that he was already afraid that Jack wouldn't even ask.

"is it k if i bring a pal 2 dinner" texts Jack. "he 1't want much mor then ur cum and mine." "then he shud bring big appetite" you reply. Shit, this time when Steve shakes your hand, nothing is limp between your legs. Enjoy the evening with the president of the HOA to the fullest!

Pics all found @thelockerroomblog

[adalricus]

(AMAB)Yandere!cat hybrid x gn!reader hcs:

- You were just coming back home from your job and it was raining

- Unbeknownst to you someone was following you home during that rainy night

- As you were opening the door you felt a cat rubbing against your leg and meowing at you loudly

- You couldn't just leave this little cutie outside

-You fed it only the best cat food and obviously pampered it, despite the fact it kept nipping at you with somehow the most loving face a creature gave

- You came home early from work one day just to find who you thought was cat, since you only saw it's ears being a GROWN (pretty short tho) MAN ON YOUR COUCH WITH CAT EARS AND A CAT TAIL

- You were horrified to say the least "I can explain!" The black heard man said

-After explaining you were just kinda mad tbh

- "I LET YOU IN THE BATHROOM WHILE I WAS BATHING AND YOU WATCHED IT ALL PERVERT!" "I MEAN HOW COULD I NOT? HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR ASS?"

- Dw you eventually got used to him

- He scents you all the time and acts so betrayed when you dare come back home smelling like another cat, much worse a DOG

- He is such a spoiled little shit

- Yes you'll buy high grade salmon and yes you will cook like a high grade chef

- Yes you'll season his chicken to perfection or his not eating

- WDYM YOU'RE TO TIRED TO COOK, well chase the fatigue away or some shit

- If you annoy him to much he may break a few glasses and plates to put you in your place.

- but don't you dare give him silent treatment he will use as a scratching post

- It took you a fuck-ton of time to convince him to tell you his birth name.

- It's Lynx btw

- This motherfucker thinks he's the boss of you, when in actuality 5'1 but he could still somehow beat your ass so..

- Please don't adopt a normal cat he will be devastated, is he not enough for you?

- Please don't think he doesn't care about you, he just only wants you to take care

- Like as in until the heat death of the universe and will probably stab someone with idk a pen? (He did actually do that at some point smh) to make sure that is assured

- If you keep coming home he will start marking you

- Don't give him affection at the wrong time will scratch you the fuck up

- How will you know when it's the right time tho? Just fuck around and find out ig

- Congrats now you have a catboy who you don't what he's feeling and probably doesn't know himself, attached to you.

[smytherines]

I often wonder if I would feel differently about The Staircase Scene if I had seen SAF when it first came out in 2016. The first time I saw it was probably around October or November of 2023, and like... the context is different now.

Whatever we want to say about the personal story arcs of these characters (and I know I'm in a tiny minority because, for me, killing Owen does not constitute a satisfying close to Curt's arc, that's totally fine), there is the very real issue of the sociopolitical context that this scene takes place within- both in their time (1961) and in ours.

One very cool thing about SAF is that, in order to understand these characters better, a lot of younger queer folks end up learning about the Lavender Scare, about Executive Order 10450- which officially prohibited gay people from working for the US government- for the first time. That's an incredible, precious thing to me. Yay queer history! It's important!

The show itself never addresses the fact that both the US and UK governments had very public, very brutal campaigns equating homosexuality with communism with being a traitor to your country. But if you want to understand these characters, and especially write fanfiction, you're really incentivized to teach yourself some fundamentally important aspects of queer history.

In the 54 Below concert, before singing Not So Bad, Brian Rosenthal talks about how when they were developing the show they thought N@zis were more or less a thing of the past, that they're fully aware of how differently that song might be taken now after an escalation into a more open embrace of fascism in the US. And they're absolutely right about that.

But I think that's also perhaps an issue with the staircase scene, or at least it is for me. Obviously homophobia and transphobia were not "fixed" in 2016, they were still massive problems resulting in violence and discrimination and brutality. But institutionally, at least, you could look at the situation and point to some things that were gradually getting better.

In 2016 trans youth in my state were legally allowed to receive gender affirming care. In 2024, they are not. It's not that homophobia and transphobia went away and then came back, but there was a very real resurgence of the use of the media and of governmental power to inflict pain on queer & trans people and chase them out of public life- bathroom bans, gender affirming care bans, Don't Say Gay laws, trying to make drag illegal, equating queer and trans people with pedophilia. There has been a big cultural shift back towards the same kind of violent governmental moral panic that our beloved Curt & Owen would have lived under.

Whatever we want to say about these characters and this story (and there's tons of fascinating debate there), there is still the base of a gay man killing his ex-lover ostensibly to protect US foreign policy objectives. Killing the man he loves- or loved, at least- to protect the secret that he is gay. And that hits different for me now.

I watch that scene and it is heartbreaking on a personal level, but its also heartbreaking as a queer person who just wants to scream "your government will destroy you for being gay, you don't owe them shit!"

Owen tries to explain that the surveillance network is happening, that the future won't wait for Curt to catch up. Barb has been saying she's working on the same thing for the US government the entire show, but Curt just kept ignoring her. And I just want to say "Curt, honey, what do you think your government is going to do to you with that surveillance system? Do you think you're useful enough to keep around even though you have sex with men? Because I promise you they will not care."

It feels tragic to me because on some level it seems like Curt would actually be safer with another gay man having control of all the world's secrets than he will be if the government he has dedicated his life to gets their hands on that same technology.

And the thing is, having a tragic ending doesn't make the show bad. This show is great. This scene is spectacular. It makes you think, it makes you feel things, it does all the stuff that great art is supposed to do. Absolutely none of what I'm saying here is meant to denigrate the show as a musical or a story or even a queer story. I hope it doesn't come off as me saying "actually this show is bad," because I don't feel that way at all.

Clearly I live and breathe this show. That's why I spend all my time on here analyzing every scene, every frame, every facial expression. I love this show so much that I can't help but deconstruct it and look at all its component parts- including the sociopolitical context both now and in 1961. Because that context, despite never being explicitly mentioned, is important to our understanding of these characters.

I love these characters so much that it's actually pretty difficult for me to watch A2P7 anymore, because the staircase scene is so emotionally devastating to me that it's hard to try to swing back into that more comedic tone (even though Spy Dance is a certified bop).

I'm not even sure what my point is with all of this, other than to say that Spies Are Forever is a show that is great and fun and funny as written/performed, and becomes gradually more emotionally devastating when you rewatch it or when you understand the subtext of it. When you can engage with the themes of gender and sexuality, surveillance and technology, trauma and trust, and tease out even more satisfying theories around this show.

So yeah. It's a musical. It's about spies.

[for-ships-that-never-sail]

Ignore me, I’m just talking into the void about how Peneloise needed to have their fight and break up for Polin to happen and how I wish Polin stayed secret from El for at least a day longer

Eloise is a main reason why Colin never really caught on to the depth (or rather, the direction of the depth) of his feelings for Pen until now, and he would not have gotten there so fast this season if Eloise was still around.

Even though Colin’s new sexual experience and Pen’s practical need for a marriage this season really played a huge role in speeding things up, could you imagine what that same scenario would have been like if Peneloise were still cool?

….Sexy Pirate Colin shows up and gets his fake flirt on with everyone - if Eloise knows about Pen being LW and was cool with it, Pen really wouldn’t have been calling Colin out on his new personality, or what he said last season, to get him wondering if he should be faking everything this hard to fit in with the Fuckboi Lord Squad and the ton, and to get him on the journey of accepting himself as he is, because El probably wouldn’t have let Pen call him out through LW or even in person tbh - and if El didn’t know about LW, yeah, if not in person, Pen could at least still talk shit as LW, but would she have had the need to? Cause El would have been by her side for her glow up, Pen would still be awks at the ball but if she ran out in distress El would’ve gone with her so even if Colin also ran after her it would’ve played out differently, private lessons wouldn’t have been a thing at all, and if Colin were trying to say something to Pen about all his new ‘tips and tricks on charm from when I was whoring across Europe’ El would’ve always been there turning it all into debate club because of her reasonable disdain for the practical reasons Pen needed to marry this season…. and that’s barely scratching the surface

Though it’s unintentional (or at least not maliciously intentional), Eloise has truly always been one of the biggest cockblocks for Polin, so I’m actually hella glad that they had their little friendship breakup allowing Polin to learn what they are to each other alone, and for Pen and El to find themselves separately too

I actually want their distance to stay that way a bit longer in that sense - like allow the couple their honeymoon period without interference - I know that’s not what’s gonna happen and El will immediately and quite reasonably bring the LW issue to play. Still, it would have been nice if Polin could have just been in their secret love bubble alone for longer than that glorious carriage ride

I guess that part is a bit on Colin too lol - if that man wasn’t so desperate to immediately put a ring on it and publicly announce it 10 seconds into their relationship El wouldn’t have had to get back on the cockblock train so fast. I’m in no way saying she’s wrong to do it… obviously Pen needs to come clean on LW, but GAHHHHHH

All I’m saying is

El 🐓🚫 (years) > No El but Polin still just at 👀(2-3 weeks) > Polin finally at 🗣️🫴🏼🐱🫦💥💍 (a handful of minutes 👀😉) > El is immediately back at it like👩🏻‍⚖️🧾🐓🚫

And I just wanted that💥 part to 💥💥💥 at least that oneeee night instead of the drama starting straight out of the carriage 😫 Go to sleep El! Threaten Pen with your ultimatum and start cockblocking them TOMORROW - That girl is currently in such a state of euphoria she doesn’t even knowwww she’s LW and I want her to stay in her horny stress-free love bubble a bit more before you come at her reminding her of her crimes against humanity 😫😭 loll

[kookidough]

random rant about tbp tiktok cause i’m actually Sick of it at this point💆‍♀️💆‍♀️ these issues probably exist Outside of tiktok as well but i only ever see them on there so thats the platform i’m gna talk about

before you read i just wanna say warning for mentions of sa!!!!!

first of all i dont want to jump straight into the serious shit so the unoriginality is actually INSANE like ive been seeing the same jokes since 2022, can we Please get something funnier than “griffin does gymnastics / is a ceiling fan” 😭 the amount of times recently i’ll see a tbp tiktok and then get someone copying the idea and making the Same exact post like 3 scrolls later is insane like Pls can we be original Pls this movie is so sad i need something to laugh at

outside of being totally unoriginal some of the jokes tend to be Really Fucking Disgusting like straight up joking about assault, i shouldn’t even have to explain that thats not funny in the slightest?? this one person made a bunch of really gross ones and kept blocking people who called them out in the comment section, my friend had to dm them Several times and all they did was take down one post, the rest are still up with a ton of views :/ i know its like shock humour or dark humour or whatever but i dont see the ‘funny’ side of a grown man forcing himself onto a child and i think if youre laughing at that you should sit down and ask yourself why you think thats so funny.. people in the comments are always like “i shouldn’t laugh” so they Know its wrong as well which just ugh the whole thing just really gets on my nerves

another thing that gets on my nerves is the lack of media literacy and straight up spreading misinformation, maybe on the media literacy part i’m just a hater but i see so many questions being asked or theories being posed when all of the things mentioned were… literally answered in the movie?? “whats up with finney and gwen’s mother” it’s literally said in the movie that she has the same ability as gwen and she killed herself bc of it, next question, “why was max so interested in finding the missing boys” maybe because he was a coked up conspiracy theorist who saw a serious crime happening in his brother’s area so he decided to be a genuine concerned citizen who wanted these boys to be found💀 “why did the grabber kill max” because he had evidence of the highly awful crimes he’d been committing and was about to let his latest victim free?? the list goes on and on but those r the main ones i see all the time

as for the misinformation. Ough. it annoys me So much this is a hill i will die on😭 i dont know if its people’s half-baked theories or personal headcanons that just got way out of hand but i see so much stuff being spread that just Isnt true, it gets spread so far that when you google these things it appears as true when its not which is annoying !!! i actually was gonna make an entire rant about one theory in particular that pisses me off so bad but i can fit it in here alongside my list of “other theories presented as facts that i Absolutely Despise”

first theory, the one i was gonna make an entire post over, is the theory that vance is the grabber’s son. if i see one more tiktok of those two with that marina and the diamonds song im going to fucking lose it😭 i have no idea where people got this from but its so fucking popular that it comes up on google and i Hate it, i think it comes from the fact that in gwen’s dream sequence, which, might i add, WAS A DREAM, it looks like the police drop vance off outside the grabber’s house and he goes inside there, which… apparently automatically makes them related…?? it takes like one ounce of media literacy to realise that Obviously he’d be getting dropped off at his own house in real life, but as a ghost he’s centred on the place he died and is showing that house to gwen in her dreams, like how every other ghost shows that house to her. awful theory awful take i hate it, if its ur personal headcanon sorry but i do Not fw that

the other theories i have like. not much to say about other than the fact that they’re Not true, i see a lot of stuff about griffin for some reason? the number tends to change but a lot of ppl say “he was kept in the basement for 4 years” like . Huh. where is your proof???? i know the missing posters are insanely unreliable but if you literally read them griffin went missing on april 2nd and billy went missing on may 4th so highly likely griffin was only in the basement for like. a month at most, no idea where ppl are pulling 4 years out of💀 i also see people say griffin has broken legs or a broken back Just because of the first scene where we see him doing a backbend but . if that was the case then he wouldnt be able to stand with the other ghosts when they show gwen the house, i think the backbend was just the position he died in and thats why he first appeared that way to finney but Hey thats just my opinion! last two i have like no rants over but just. firstly people saying robin never made it to the basement for some reason but clearly he did otherwise his ghost would not be down there with the rest of them😭 secondly the theory that vance was kept there the longest “because he’s the most feminine” which. just makes absolutely zero sense to me whatsoever idk whos random headcanon got popularised but i dont like it

okay getting serious again, while this one does not make me angry its like. just really weird to me? i think its common knowledge at this point that both the book and the movie are inspired heavily by the john wayne gacy case, with the grabber literally being inspired by john wayne gacy himself (you Cannot argue with me on this one its literally confirmed and theres a boatload of evidence supporting it). i guess its natural to see people making comparisons between the movie and the case because of the inspiration but i’ve seen Several videos recently of people taking photos of jwg victims and putting them next to tbp characters and saying thats who theyre inspired by and i think thats . Really coming across as insensitive i cant lie😭 we know the grabber was inspired by jwg and its heavily thought that billy was inspired by johnny gosch but theres not much about the others and i think its just really distasteful to compare real life murder victims to fictional horror characters just to get views/likes on tiktok, it comes across as insanely disrespectful to me but idk i havent seen anyone else talking about it so i might just be being sensitive

last thing that really really bothers me is grabber simps. while i do see it on tiktok i see it on here, tumblr, most often and its… so odd to me…. like why are you thirsting over the paedophilic serial killer… so so strange to me… i want to see art and character analysis and silly little posts about all the characters but every time i open the tbp tag i’m jumpscared by someones weird ass grabber x reader oneshot and its SO GROSS get that shit away from me😭😭😭😭 also saw this one girl on tiktok one time whos literal entire account was dedicated to the grabber and she defended this by saying the sa in the movie was “just a theory” which is so victim blamey girl i do not trust you there is so much evidence for it in the movie, again w the media literacy point, just because something isnt directly shown to you doesnt mean it isnt shown in other subtler ways… anyway i get if people like the grabber as a villain but actually like. loving him and thirsting over him is weird as fuck to me

so um ya the fandom is a trainwreck can we go back to there being like 3 of us please and thank u. if you actually read all this then Wow thank you its literally just me being chronically online and ranting about stuff that doesn’t matter in the real world at all

[kittehbiscuits]

please tell me about your keatlejuice thoughts i am desperate for an analysis of him that isn’t just Evil

EDIT BC APPARENTLY PUTTING IT ALL OVER THE TAGS WASN'T ENOUGH: BEETLEBABES DNI!!!! HOLY SHIT DAWG PLEASE I'M BEGGING 🙏 😭

Omg haiiiii hiiii taps mic is this on yess hellow *shuffles with notes*

warning this will probably be a LONG post

enjoy :3

Ok. So. Keatlejuice. Movie Beetlejuice. 600 year old man. Alive during the 1300s AKA the black death in Europe (proved by the second movie). In the original script for the movie he is described as "vaguely middle-eastern" which is probably racist BUT I have decided to interpret that as a potential ancestry for him.

In the musical he is heavily implied to be Jewish so I was thinkinggg maybe his family is a Jewish family that originated in the Middle East and migrated to Europe.

Every time I've tried to find how he died (pre-sequel) I find the same result but NO source for it. EVEN ON THE WIKI THERE ISN'T A SOURCE

ANYWAY this kind of paints a picture on his life when he was alive, the movie says he was a grave robber so obviously a peasant scraping by to survive. Betelgeuse is not someone who I can imagine surviving in any society based on. social skills. he's kind of a goofy silly guy I don't think he can relate to most of the people around him especially with disease rampant I don't think he has many people in his life. With this need for survival I think he's adopted quite the antisocial personality.

People around you die, you go through their pockets for cash, thus is life. Definitely not a pleasant person to be around and so I don't think he ever tries to be, even long after his death. He knows something is fundamentally wrong with him and he embraces that for the sake of survival.

I'm gonna be so honest I cast him with the MOMMY ISSUES BEAM GRAHHHH I'm sure his mother passed during his life due to disease or tons of other mideival shit. (I will bring this up later just put a pin in it) Betelgeuse is suuuuper silly goofy in the brain (depression and BPD possibly) and I personally imagine him as surprisingly. Calm. As a human. Not kind, but not exactly the manic personality he embraces in the movies.

It's near the end of his life when he believes there isn't anything left for him in life, he never grew or got better he only fell deeper into the deep pit of depravity he dug himself into. I think near the end is when he acted the most like his movie self, erratic and selfish not afraid to draw attention hoping it would make him feel better somehow.

So. I have absolutely no idea how he bagged Delores to be honest but in MY interpretation (with a mix of the sequel's lore) Delores dies, and I think that's his final straw. Either by his own hand or unrelated events losing her as the only thing of value in his shitty mideival peasant life means he's done for (he's 30-something btw). He cuts off her ring finger and hangs himself.

Of course, that isn't the end, He wakes up, still hanging, and rips and tears at the rope, shredding his nails and skin until finally it snaps dropping him to the floor. In a delirious state he looks around. A woman stands above him, slit throat wafting smoke, and tosses him a striped uniform.

Some backstory on prison uniforms:

Using this article and just some research from my memory, prison uniforms are made to identify a man as a criminal, to emasculate them and take away individuality. The stripes can even represent the bars of a prison cell, making the person wearing the uniform feel like they have no escape from their criminal identity. ANYWAYYYYY (sorry I have beef with the justice system)

Suicidees in the Neitherworld are made civil servants. It's their debt to pay for the crime of killing themselves and in the movie both Juno and Betelgeuse are among those ranks.

In my interpretation, when Betelgeuse dies Juno isn't at the rank she's at in the movie and she guides suicidees to their new job. As she rised the ranks, she employed Betelgeuse as an assistant (I don't really think he could find any other purpose for himself in this strange new afterlife, and it's not like he has a choice.)

This is where the mommy issues come in wheroeowheh soo Juno is an older woman and authority figure so I think *PLATONICALLY* Betelgeuse has sort of an attachement to her because of that, she's the only anchor he's got in the Neitherworld after all.

As he gets a better handle on things, he does what he always does, he finds shifty places to lurk and loopholes to slip through. Now that he's dead, he doesn't need to worry about his personal safety anymore (not that he did before) and being dead has given him powers he's never had before. He starts his bio-exorcism business a hundred or two years after dying. It's not really about the money, but the control it gives him and something he's *meant* to do, that he made for himself and wasn't picking from the scraps of others.

After a while he starts slacking on his civil services. So far he's ridden on Juno's coattails and found his way around the legal system easily enough so he uses it to help his guide job instead. He gets cocky, Juno is pissed because he's not doing any work after all she gave him (oughh mother thinking moment) and fires him. It goes over very poorly, Betelgeuse gets his nose broken (300 something years after death) And becomes purely a bio-exorcist.

OKAY THAT IS ALL FOR NOW honestly I could ramble forever but it's late and I must go but if anyone has any questions please feel free to ask!!!

(Also he's pansexual and genderfluid on top of all of that but he doesn't figure that out until the 90's)

[lovedrots]

little moments

iii . little moments  -  p.p. x reader ᥫ᭡

synopsis : you spend the last days of your trip to italy with the boy you admire most. ( includes one-bed!trope and mutual pining )

warnings : creepy pedo old(ish) men, mild swearing, very, very rushed. this is the first time i have written in a while. :( unedited, not proof-read !!

a/n : this is my first time writing in . . . a long time ! so please note that this likely isn’t very smooth, nor is it proof-read / edited. also i am begging you guys to give me requests in my inbox .. i gotta write more !!

word count : 6,921

italy ; 1:56 p.m.

venice was supposed to be fun.

this was supposed to be your opportunity to get away from your parents, to live out your cliche teenage late-night dreams with your closest friend, betty.

but instead, you were stuck trailing her and her new boy-toy, ned leeds.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like ned. no, he was funny. kind. but what bothered you was that he had wormed his way right into the middle of your plans. betty and you had put together list of what you wanted to do: sneak out at night to drink hot cocoa on the roof, pet the pigeons, take every boat you saw … of course, those were all thrown out the window.

and it didn’t really help, that ned’s best friend, peter parker wasn’t around. you hoped that he would at least have his – rather cute – best friend by his side, but it seemed that even he wasn’t content on watching ned and betty suck each other’s faces off.

understandable.

turning your attention from the pale waters, you tried to catch your blonde friend’s gaze – mission failed. you pursed your lip, fingers picking at each other. you were getting antsy, with a need to go something. anything.

“have you guys checked out the saint mark’s basilica yet?” you quipped, sliding in front of them. you were sick of trailing them like a helpless dog.

“doesn’t look fun,” ned muttered, dark eyes glued to betty’s grinning face. and the other didn’t even think it proper to reply. neither of them seemed to notice you, as they brushed past, the girl’s shoulder bumping yours in the process.

your face flushed with something resembling anger – both because of their lack of attention, and the fact that you may have been a little jealous of the couple. just a little. who wouldn’t be? sure, you could say they were just in the honeymoon phase, but the way they looked at each other still had you yearning for more than your life offered. when would you get to experience that? just thinking about it had you kicking your feet, fireworks going off in your tummy.

though you would never admit it, some nights, you would imagine yourself sleeping beside someone. it made you feel … safe, when no one else did.

that’s when you realized that you had stopped dead in your tracks, ned and betty out of sight. you frantically looked around, e/c eyes scanning heads as you stood on your toes. shit. gone.

“lost, amore?” a old, sultry voice rasped. you turned to see a man – likely in his fifties – looking you up and down. though he was smiling, it was certainly nothing kind.

lost? you weren’t lost. just exploring, yeah? you knew where you were; the cream walls, beige roof of the building to your left … the totally familiar waters …

okay, sure. you were lost.

but you couldn’t tell a stranger that!

“no, sir,” you replied, and though you tried to put strength into your voice, it still managed to come out as nothing more than a squeak. “i was just – just looking around. i’ve been here tons of times.”

you began inching backwards, uncomfortable with the older man and unfamiliarity of the situation. though you were sure he had no ill intentions, (were you?) you were rather put off by his use of such an intimate name. after all, you were a teenager; very obviously one, too.

“please, miss! you look –”

you stumbled into a hard surface, warmth seeping into your back, an oomph leaving whatever it is that you crashed into.

you spun on your heel, whipping your head up to look at – peter parker. oh, just the person you needed to see, you thought, sarcasm pounding your head. your gaze shot from man to boy, as if unsure where to focus. you were jet-lagged, disoriented, and maybe a little creeped out.

setting your eyes on peter, you tried to channel your feelings of long (momentary) suffering through the irises. though, in all honesty, you probably looked like a drunken madwoman. but when your e/c eyes met his, the honey-brown so enchanting, you felt a little more secure. it wasn’t quite a warm, safe blanket; after all, you didn’t really know the boy. you’d only watched him from afar. stuffing books in his locker (they often fell out), sneakily mixing chemicals in the lab (you could never tell what, exactly, it was), tapping his foot to taylor swift songs when he thought so one was looking.

yeah, you were smitten.

“sorry mister;” came his wavering voice, “she’s got me!”

sorry? you ‘got him?’ needless to say, you were baffled. never had you ever spoken to the brunette, yet he was acting as if you were the best of pals. you gave him a quizzical look, nearly crossing your arms. but the silence, the bothered look on the elder’s face, had you playing along. “pete!” you choked out, the nickname forcing itself through your teeth, “i was looking everywhere for you.”

“i was down by the – the docks,” he quipped, scratching the nape of his neck. he – rather reluctantly – placed his palm on your shoulder. Though his composure was stiff, and his acting skills horrible, you had no other choice.

feigning annoyance, you crossed your arms, thick brows knitting. “you could’ve answered my texts!” for the fun of it, you fished your cell phone from your back pocket, swinging it between your fingers.

he huffed, tapping his foot. now you were really getting into it, the little squabble. “my phone was dead! you try replying to messages with a pitch-black screen?”

the two of you shot back and fourth for god knew how long, pointing, grumbling, and prodding at each other. To the two of your, your humorous scene was only a few moments long. but, by the time you’d calmed down, laughter at the tips of your tongues, the man had drifted away. last you had checked, he was staring down the two of you with awe and anger, mouth opening and closing each time there was a heartbeat of silence, as if to interject.

the giggles finally bubbled up, leaving your lips in a string of gurgles as you attempted to suppress them. your newfound travel companion, upon hearing your racket, couldn’t help but explode. Peter doubled over, clamping a hand to his mouth, as if to stifle his guffaws; but, it was no use. both of you look utterly insane, like drugged maniacs.

but he thought your laughter was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard.

though, you didn’t know that. you were convinced that you sounded like a crow that had just drunken twelve bottles of whiskey. plus, you were too busy admiring his joy, through the whisps of hair that fell into your face as he chuckles subsided.

you averted your eyes, pupils refusing to shrink back. “thanks. for helping me back there, i mean. that guy was … something.”

he nodded in agreement, a boyish, lopsided grin plastered to his face. “oh, um, anytime!”

you suspected he would be on his way. that he’d turn around, and you would be left alone again.

instead, he analyzed you, head to toe; the hydrangea-print top, the sun-kissed cheeks and nose. you thought you looked like a sloppily put-together mess, but peter thought you looked dream-worthy. “i didn’t know you knew who i am.” he said once he collected his thoughts.

you blinked, your only sign of surprise, ‘till you spoke. “who doesn’t know peter parker? you’re basically the only reason our decathlon team wins every show-down. smartest guy we know!”

was that too much? perhaps you had made him uncomfortable. you only just topped yourself before you could have slipped out something along the lines of, plus, you’re gorgeous. very handsome. i like to watch you in class, you’re so pretty.

but, even when he wore an embarrassed blush on his cheeks, his grin grew impossibly wider, his chest puffing in pride. “i mean – i try. not the smartest, though. try mr. stark. he’s a real genius,” he rambled. “and, hey, you’re pretty smart, too. mrs. warren seems to like you! you always get good grades in her class.”

“you notice?” you rose a brow.

“well, i sit directly behind you, so it’s kind of hard not to listen to it. that’s the only reason. it’s not like i’m a stalker or anything!”

of course, he wasn’t watching you because of some feelings. it was just by chance. if you sat at the opposite end of the room, he probably wouldn’t even know that you’re in his class, for thor’s sake.

needless to say, you were butthurt. but you couldn’t let it show through.

even so, you only found the strength to nod, watching the waters of venice ripple. how could you have gotten your hopes up? you rubbed your arms, droplets of the rivers spraying them with each crash of the tides. you hated the silence. it was your chance; your chance to prove that you were worth becoming friends with. but your awkwardness, your shyness, kept you from saying a word.

you looked up at his face, expecting him to be looking right back – but instead, those puppy eyes were glued elsewhere, to the dark wood planks at your feet.

maybe, he was as nervous as you were.

you cleared your throat, shifting your posture a few more times than it would be, if you were casual. “you haven’t got anyone else, or any plans right now … right?” you tried, foot tapping.

“No, no no!” he quickly ushered, hands that were once behind his back now set in a defensive position. “none at all. i just wanted to walk around, y’know?” he bit his already rouge lips, the action only emphasizing the color in his face. “d’you want to join me? if you don’t, that’s fine! i mean, we only just really met, and it might seem kind of weird. not that i’m weird. am i? i don't think so, i just –”

oh, you were helpless for this man. the way he went on a tangent, deep eyes sparking, you had fallen far before you could really acknowledge it. your stomach was doing summersaults, head feeling light, but not quite dizzy. when were you going to wake up from this dream? you wanted to pinch yourself.

“oh, no, i’d love to . . weirdo,” you added with a quick wink. you weren’t flash, after all; you’d never intentionally bully the poor guy.

peter shook his head, curls bouncing as his face contorted further into a content happiness.

you slipped your phone into the front pocket of your jeans, slipping past him to launch into a slow stroll. you almost instinctively reached out a hand for him to take, as though to guide him, but you pulled away as quick as it came up.

the two of you were oh-so close, shoulders nudging every so often as you walked. it wasn’t always this way; at first, you’d been feet upon feet apart. but as you spoke, you seemed to gravitate towards the enter – or, towards each other.

“but, blueberry pie has such a good balance of sweetness, and the texture is so much more . . it’s just nicer!” you insisted, upon peter bringing up his favorite pie.

“but –” he countered, “that place down the street from delmars? best cherry pie ever.”

you shrugged, mocking offense. “well, i’ve never had it! how should i know?”

he scoffed, hand to his heart. “fine. when we get back from europe, first thing we’re doing? i’m taking you there. and ordering two slices of cherry pie, extra ice-cream.’

if we even make it that far, you wanted to mutter, but held your tongue. instead. you jabbed at his shoulder. “yeah, yeah. i’m holding you to that.”

your bantering, since the little skit you put on, never seemed to stop. but your differences never made your heart beat less for him; it only made you more curious. one of the most interesting, being his view on heroes in comparison to yours.

“i appreciate them; i do,” you had said, “but they can’t save us all. kids still go missing. murders still happen. it’s impossible to stop.”

“but they try! they’re humans, too,” he countered. though his tone was harsher than you were used to, you didn’t miss the kindness, the understanding, in his eyes.

“i know,” you said softly. “but – they always say they’re going to ‘save everyone.’” you paused, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “it’s – it’s why i like spider-man, actually.”

you found it curious, how his eyes widened, and his cheeks grew crimson. “what do you mean?” he squeaked out.

“well; he’s not like those other heroes. he looks out for all of us. robberies, drunk drivers … stuff that most of the avengers wouldn’t bother watching out for. i admire him.”

“somebody’s gotta watch out for the little guys,” he murmured as if you couldn’t hear. and those words, stuck in the back of your mind for the rest of the day.

somebody’s gotta look out for the little guys, huh?

italy, 6:34 p.m.

it was dusk, by the time you had left again. hours before, peter parker had walked you to your hotel, where you weren’t surprised to find betty missing. likely with ned, peter had scoffed. you nodded, shrugging. at least you has some peace to yourself. you had shared an awkward moment before he left; he had gone in for a side-hug, while you had expected a full-on one. this had both of you struggling to find a comfortable way to meet, before you settled on a less-than-shitty … fist bump. yeah. a fist bump.

you groaned at the memory, shaking your head. you needed something to clear your head. and that ‘something’ was a boat ride!

you wove through the busy streets, eyes glued onto the boat-stop, humming with delight as you watched one pull into view and –

“rose, lovely?”

you jolted once more, struck into reality as a man in a cap resembling a beanie held out a singular red rose. you shook your head, cursing yourself for not avoiding the packed walkways.

“american, yes?” he tried again, signaling the flower in his hand with the dip of his head.

opening your mouth to offer a curt reply, you instead felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “um – hi, sorry to interrupt, man. y/n?”

you quickly spun to see peter parker behind you, yet again. “peterrr … hi!!” you quipped, a fake grin splat on the panes of your face.

“hey,” he smiled back, sliding his fingers from your shoulderblade to your hand, entwining them with yours. “let’s get our boat, yeah?” he gave your hand a gentle tug towards the dock, his other occupied with a small pale bag, making a point to raise the one holding yours just enough for the capped boy to see. and, though you shouldn’t have, you squeezed his palm just a little tighter. to remind the fluttering of your heart, that it was real.

when you sat on the slick bench of he raft, peter, alarmed by the pools of water on said bench, shrugged his jacket off, swiftly placing it where you were aiming just before you took your seat. you gave him a quizzical look, to which he replied, “i just – i just didn’t want your jeans to be ruined! they’re pretty.” his voice wavered, soft.

his little display of respect had you over the moon. and though everyone else was out of sight, you hadn’t let go. side by side, hands clasped, the two of you seemed to look opposite ways. you towards the city lights, and peter towards the open waters. but, in reality? you were looking at each other when the other turned away. it was like a game of whack-a-mole, to catch one another red handed. the few times your eyes met, you felt your skin ignite.

the entire ride, not a word was exchanged. but you never moved away. you would feel the occasional squeeze to your hand, which you would respond with one of equal gentleness. They seemed to communicate, ‘is this okay?’

it was short, sweet, the crossing not lasting anything more than ten minutes. when you stepped out, you seemed frozen. his irises, illuminated by fairy lights, were so sweet, like pools of milk chocolate.

but, nothing good lasts forever. the worker on the boat coughed once. twice.

right; money.

you slid your hands into your pockets, grabbing from your wallet … but the boat as gone as soon as you looked back up. peter was sliding a wrecked, leather-bound square back into his pants. you sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. “oh, please. you couldn’t have let me pay you back at least once?”

“pay me back for what?” he asked innocently.

you scoffed, dropping the wallet back where it came. “yeah, yeah, mister hero …” you shook your head, though you could feel tingles of a smile warping the edges of your lips. he had let got of your hand to pay, and though it did not find yours again, you could feel the ghost of his touch linger on your skin. “we have got to stop meeting like this,” you added, referring to the assistance he offered you. two times, now, had he led you away from odd men in this foreign land.

peter shrugged, fiddling with the handle of his paper bag. “at least i means we meet, somehow.” though his words came off as casual, there was a strain in his voice. as if he wanted to say more. “besides; if i didn’t turn out, where else would you be?”

rolling your eyes, your eyes followed the sun, watching it sink below the horizon. “i had it covered …” but, upon seeing his face drop a fraction, you felt yourself soften like warm wax. “okay, maybe i didn’t. you saved my ass, i admit it.” you rose your hands in surrender, a tight-lipped beam lighting your face.

he seemed to perk right up, like a dog receiving praise, posture straightening with delight. you could practically envision a wagging tail.

and you didn’t mind it, when your fingers drifted into his once more as you led each other back to where your class was gathered.

italy, 2:12 a.m.

you kicked your feet beneath the thick bedsheets, the absence of your friend hitting you like a ton of bricks. originally, the two of you planned to stay up late in face-masks, drinking smoothies and eating chocolates. but, where was she now?

with her new boyfriend, obviously. and thor knew how the hell betty managed to sneak into his room.

actually – never mind. your teachers were too much of a deadbeat, to pay attention to the lot of you the middle of the night.

you wrestled with the duvet for a few more moments, both hot and cold wrecking your body. blanket on? too hot. blanket off? too cold. how did people even manage, in such conditions?

you felt your feet touch the fuzz of your slippers as you swung up, laced night-dress crinkling against linen. you wanted to sleep, so badly, yet it never came. each time you closed your eyes, stars would appear, and you would replay your walk home with peter in your head. it was all so strange. you had met only today, really, and it felt like he was your ‘soulmate.’

or, maybe it was you trying to convince yourself that things could work out between you and the coffee-eyed boy.

you kicked your legs, emitting soft thuds to the mattress, unsure of what to do. you’d tried listening to ambience between the time of 1:34 to 1:56, but that didn’t seem to work, though it often times did. you also attempted the classic, ‘counting sheep.’ but, when does that ever really work. you even got so distracted, that you had begun to name the damned sheep that were jumping over your little imaginary fence.

your personal favorites were sir mcwooly and baaa-rney.

toddling over to the small desk by the hotel’s queen’s bed, you rubbed your arms, feeling the goosebumps spiking up on your skin. you sat on the swiveling chair, the small lamp as blinding as the sun when you turned it on. you seethed, squinting as you made a grab for the miniature sketchpad and pen assortment you had packed

you scribbled away, filling pages with tiny stars, before your hand began to flow out portraits of your friends. first, betty; with her shining blonde hair, her sugar-sweet grin. you doodled her and ned, despite the small crack in your heart at the thought of them so happy together. you drew them on the flight together, when you had been kicked out your seat to sit behind them, watching the new couple giggle through the cracks. you added little notes, complaining about their mushiness, about how empty they made you feel.

Needless to essay, the page was ripped from the booklet.

your pen found it’s way to paper once again, this time, the lines forming the familiar silhouette of peter. you started with his doe-brown eyes, making emphasis on the shining in them, the familiarity. though you enjoyed drawing each part of him, something about those eyes had you grounded to them. and it showed; when you were finished – or, more specifically, you noted how cliche you were acting – anyone could see the emphasis you’d placed on his irises. darker than all else in the portrait, white cut-outs of hearts and stars, if you looked close enough, bright against the ink.

you shook your head, gingerly, not to break the paper, tearing the page from the notebook. you set it aside, atop your previous project. the cold was getting to you; you were shaking like a wet dog, and, god, did you feel like you were sick. the small blotches of pen-gel on your hands didn’t help the look. it was like you were catching the plague.

padding for the suitcase propped against the wall, you dug through it, slipping a alpaca-fur sweater over your head. it would leave a mess of hairs, later, but in the moment, it was worth the suffering.

only issue was, your hands were still cold as ever. but you knew just what to do.

italy, 2:59 a.m.

the aroma of milk chocolate wafted through the room, the small kitchen’s floorboards creaking as you twirled and bobbed your head like a bird. you had your earbuds shoved deep into your ears, ramones blasting through the tiny speakers. you were careful to avoid the odd, slimy bits in the floor. though venice was a beautiful city, your academy didn’t seem inclined on letting the lot of you stay in a nice hotel.

whatever; the trip was free, anyways. you’d take what you could get.

you dipped your spatula into the thick, italian-style cocoa, buzzing with delight as you licked a speck of the liquid from your finger. heavy, yet delicious. even just a drop, was like a cup’s worth of flavor of those sad, little packets of hot-chocolate at home.

you poured a bit of the mixture into a small mug, surprised to find a good half of it left in the pot. you groaned, realizing that you did not, in fact, have a personal fridge to store the drink in for later. and you didn’t trust anyone from your class to not steal it from the hotel’s storage unit, if you chose to keep it there.

you’d have to gulp down the whole damned container. it was like sipping on melted-down icing.

you absent-mindedly poured the rest into a matching cup, grumbling at the spare dish you’d clean. you whispered the lyrics to the song playing through your ipod, foot tapping – rather noisily – on the old wood planks.

but, your peace was short-lived.

a small voice seemed to echo you, repeating the very lyrics you thought only you could hear. you pulled one of the buds out, head whipping about until you came face-to-face with peter, who was leant against the cracked doorframe, muttering to the very lyrics you were whispering.

you froze up, quarter-full pot in hand. like a deer in the headlights. “a ramones fan?” you squeaked out as soon as you remembered that you had a voice.

“yeah – yeah. they’re cool,” he replied with equal eagerness. though he made an attempt to look casual, the constant shift in position and blush staining his cheeks opposed it. “how many song d’you know?”

“not many. this just showed up on my playlist, i guess,” you clarified, not quite meeting his gaze.

“oh! that’s fine. music is kinda subjective. and the ramones aren’t exactly in style now, so –”

you cut the poor boy off with a chuckle, holding out a cup of chocolate to him. “now, don’t undermine your tastes over me. hell, i’d be happy to listen sometime.”

“really?” the panes of his face seemed to heighten with joy. “awesome. people don’t usually .. they don’t tend care about that, y’know?”

you nodded, letting go of the mug as he took hold if it’s handle, fingers brushing yours with a spark. “it’s the little things that matter, though. i mean, imagine having someone who just knows everything about you like that?”

he gazed into the cup with wonder, as if pondering your words. “yeah … i mean. it would be easier than having to explain every little thing to ned,” he stuffy joked, scratching at his neck (again; a habit, it seemed) as if there was a switch to turn his awkward energy off.

you gave a polite giggle, leaning over the dusty counter, drink in hand. this silence seemed to be a reoccurring thing between the two of you. you would look anywhere, but each other, until you caught one-another red handed in the act. each time your eyes met, you melted a little, seeing the warmth behind them. and a sprinkle of something else. something dark. lonely. sad.

peter cautiously swiped a tinge of chocolate from the inner rim of the pot, tasting it, with a hum of approval. he took a soggy paper towel off the rack, wiping his fingers free of the sweet treat, before clearing his throat once. twice.

you looked back up, watching him frantically digging through the pockets of his jeans; front left. front right. back left. back right.

… the item he was looking for was, actually, in his hoodie.

when he at last came across it, a wide grin spread across his face, a depiction of relief. you caught a glimpse of red, shining against the soft light of the kitchen lamp.

“turn around?” he pleaded, fiddling with … whatever it was.

though you weren’t sure if you could trust it, the innocent, hopeful look on his face had your knees weak. so you obeyed.

you nearly gasped as you felt warm, calloused hands caress your neck, shifting your hair over your right shoulder. and as, in contrast, a cool metal chain was placed around your throat. as he clasped it together, he seemed to linger there, hands unnecessarily raking through your strands.

not that you minded.

you took the jewelry – a necklace – between your fingers, heart puddling to find a rose made of red glass resting on your skin. “oh, pete … why?”

“i just – i-admire-you, you-know? i-mean,have-you-seen-how-you-work-in-decathlon? or-how-you-help-mrs. warren, even-though-she-can-be-a-little … difficult. not-that-she’s-bad! no! and, um. you’re-gorgeous. not-in-a-creepy-way, but – still. yeah.”

boy, was he out of breath. you could barely understand a thing he said. “peter … i seriously didn’t catch a word of that. slow down, yeah?”

his cheeks grew scarlet as he nodded. “i was just saying that i, kind of, admire you i guess?”

you blinked, fingers that were fidgeting with the bud now frozen. “you admire me? peter parker? well, i must’ve done something right,” you laughed – not quite understanding that his words were, actually, a confession, and not words similar to that of a student and a mentor.

you didn’t catch the grimace of disappointment that passed over his face.

“right … yeah. of course,” he assured, taking a large step back. did your breath smell? you pondered, shoulders tensing. but he only padded to the spare cup, giving you a look of inquiry – to which you nodded – as he picked the ceramic up, taking a swig from the thick drink. you grinned as he pulled away from the mug, upper lip lined with deep brown.

“you’ve got something there,” you quipped, jutting your chin towards his face. he took a swipe at his mouth, missing the small puddle by an inch or two. again. again. by the time he’d given up, you were struggling not to spill your hot chocolate as you guffawed. you tip-toed to his silhouette, napkin in hand, and quickly swiped the dessert off his skin. “there, dork. all fixed up,” you declared.

the smile on his lips quivered, as though to keep it from turning into a full-on, toothy smirk. you lingered, body soaking up the heat radiating off of him. how you longed to touch him, to feel his skin against yours. and oh, gods, how he smelled. warm apple pie, laced with fresh rain.

you wondered if he tasted just as sweet.

but you couldn’t think that way. you shouldn’t have. what you wanted, what you knew, was nothing more than a fantasy. you only ever watched peter parker from the sidelines. hell, you didn’t know what his favorite food was. his favorite colors. all you knew was his favorite subject, how he tugged at his curls while we was stressed. the way he bounced his leg as your teacher spoke, pink lip tugged between his teeth. though, you could never really tell if he was really focusing; the boy’s eyes were always glossy, clouded. like he wasn’t really there. at this point, you were confident he lived inside his laptop screen.

except for the fact that he answered every damned question he was asked.

seriously, it had you rethinking your own intellect.

you didn’t grin back, your own foolishness taking a toll on your mood. you stumbled your way to the sink, his heat leaving your body feeling empty. setting your mug down with a clunk, you couldn’t meet peter’s curious gaze. “i’ve – got to sleep. early day tomorrow, yeah?” your voice was weak, no matter how hard you tried to bring humor to it.

and as you tuned to leave, what you didn’t catch, was the crushed look on your love interest’s face.

the moment you had reached your hotel, you were rather dejected to see betty missing. you scoffed, face-planting on your side of the queen-sized bed, right hand unconsciously shooting up to protect the glass art around your neck from the harsh impact. you gripped it just a fraction tighter as you sighed into the pillows, the heaviness of silence dragging anxiety from the depth of your heart.

it took you a few minutes, to find the strength to get up. but when you did, you slipped into a silken night gown, wrapping your skin in a thick robe to protect it from the cold air. your face was slathered in a gray mask, hair pushed back by a baby-blue headband. you could feel the clay on your face drying, sending a strange tingling sensation through your flesh. ick.

your eyes welled with disappointment as you stared at yourself in the mirror. were you selfish, for wanting your best friend back? you were supposed to be doing this together, face-masks and all. but instead, you had been abandoned for some guy. you blinked back your worries, determined not to let your sullied mood ruin your almost perfectly dried clay. instead, you took a deep exhale, eyes trained on the knob of the hotel’s front door.

it was as if you had summoned it with your eyes; a sharp, quick knock at the dead of night.

you blinked, almost confident that you had been hearing things. but it came again, once. twice. three timed, before you approached it, scowling. if she was going to stay so long with her boyfriend, why come back now?

“you should have just stayed where you were,” you bit out as you swung the door wide open, huffing. your voice was venom, and deep down, you were sure you’d overreacted. but you were hurt. “really, bett! it’s – what – three in the –”

were betty’s eyes always such a deep shade of brown? you didn’t remember her hair being so short.

oh.

oh.

you blinked back your angry tears, wishing you could take each little word back. you’d been a fool, for lashing out at your friend – much less, the wrong one. you rubbed your eyes, barely missing the crusted clay inches beneath. “peter?” you coughed.

“bad timing?” he swallowed, taking a step back from the door; an offer to leave, if you so chose. you felt your heart crack, just a fraction, as you shook your head quickly, opening your door a bit wider.

“more like, bad situation,” you shrugged, far too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “what . . .” you continued, “what are you here for?”

peter’s mouth pinched, as if he was thinking carefully for his next line of words. “i got kicked out,” he finally admitted, a sheepish grin pulling at the panes of his face. “betty took my side of the bed, and i didn’t really want to listen to them flirt all night.”

you giggled, a warm rush coating your skin as you nodded. “you should have seen them earlier,” you replied, spirits lifted with his caring presence. “i couldn’t even get a hold of the girl, for god’s sake. she’s infatuated.” you took a deep breath. the memory wounded you, but it felt nice – to laugh about it with someone who understood. “did you . . want to come in?” you finally asked after a heartbeat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. you looked like a grizzly bear, in your fluffy turtleneck and your dark clay mask.

but he didn’t seem to mind. hell, little did you know, he thought you looked beautiful. sure, he enjoyed watching you from his seat in chemistry. enjoyed gazing at you as you bit your lip while working through an equation, or how you raked your hand through your hair idly, when your fingers had little to do. but above all, he enjoyed this the most. you, in your rawest, most natural state.

“yes. yes, please,” he quipped, slipping past you, into your dimly lit hotel. you trailed after him, the air far heavier than it had been moments ago. what were you to do? the boy you’d been eyeing for ages now stood in the center of your room, looking lost and helpless.

sucking on a tooth, you sighed, “just . . . sit, yeah?” you pulled out the office chair to your right, rolling it just behind him, like the gentleman (gentlewoman, you supposed) you were. “i’ve got to wash this—“ you gestured to your skin, caked in product, “—off my face.”

you excused yourself with a forced grin, despite the butterflies in your stomach. even if you were happy, you were far more bashful than anything else. you gazed into the mirror as you shut the bathroom door behind you, noting the texture of your skin, the dryness of your lips, the bags beneath your eyes. you looked like the devil herself, ruined and exhausted.

you gently scrubbed the mask off, turning the mini-towel you had brought a light grey, so as not to irritate your skin. you didn’t want to teeter out looking like a seeded strawberry.

once your skin shone with water, not a trace of dirt beneath, you dug through your bag for a plethora of items; chapstick, moisturizer, a nightgown, a hairbrush . . . it took you little over twenty minutes, to took anything like the girl you were, this morning.

slipping out the washroom, you tugged at the sleeves of your nightgown, the beige a contrast to the deep red trousers he had chosen.

“so!” you clapped, falling back onto the plush mattress of the hotel bed. “you can take the bed, and i will take the . . . couch.” though it was soggy, and looked a strange color, you couldn't bear the guilt of making him sleep on it. he’d already been kicked from him own room, for christ’s sake.

you had expected relief to wash over his face, but instead, he panicked. “no. no! i can’t let you do that,” he gave you a pointed look, his eyes darting between the cushions and you. “i intruded. i’ll take the couch,” he announced, sitting up a bit straighter.

you were having none of it. “oh, please. you cured my loneliness. i wasn’t the one who got kicked out of my own hotel, was i?”

the brunette’s lips tightened, as though he was about to give in. you watched him hopefully, your tummy fluttering with absolutely glee as a sigh loosened. “yeah. yeah, okay.” he broke out in a grin, and though it looked sweet . . . mischief lurked beneath it. “if,” he continued, peter’s nervous aura replaced with a sly air, “and only if you’re willing to share. i know those couches suck, probably full of germs and mold . . .”

you cringed, remembering the soggy floorboards and furniture of the foyer. did you really want to sleep on . . . that? you could already feel the stale, reeking water encasing your arms. shaking your head, you finally replied. “you’re . . . awfully stubborn. fine. only because i can’t stand the smell.”

the boy before you, however, seemed taken aback, cheeks glowing a red hue. had he not expected you to agree? you stifled a giggle behind a cough, padding to the bed, testing the springs of the mattress with your fingers. “are you tired?”

“very,” he admitted, wincing. “being out all day . . . yeah.”

“right.” guilt washed over you. it was your fault, wasn’t it? you had wanted to explore, and he complied, for your benefit. you sat, patting the space to your right. “please, sleep. i’ll be in soon! i just need to text bett.”

he looked up at you curiously, honey-brown eyes sparkling in the dim light.

you giggled, resisting the urge to ruffle his already-messy hair. “i don’t want her coming back in te morning to a boy in my bed, with no explanation.”

“oh. oh.” his expression as it kicked in, had you rolling. he was distressed, burning up, his words incoherent and quick as lightning. you – gently – slapped his shoulder. 

“get your mind out of the gutter, and go to bed,” you ordered, leaping to your feet to retrieve your phone. you could hear the rusting of duvets and sheets, as he settled in. and only then, did you let yourself really think. you had just invited your gods-forsaken crush to sleep in your bed. with you in it. you were so wound up in nerves, you didn’t even text your friend. you doubted she’d even come back, anyways.

so you simply stood there, for a few minutes, simply . . . watching. watching the way his lashes fluttered, the pattern of his breathing. he fell asleep widely fast, already steady and deep in his dreams. you tip-toed back, until you were slipping into the now-warmed cotton, humming in content. the sound of his breaths, his subtle heartbeat, lullied you to sleep like a sweet song.

the last thing you felt, that night, were his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist.

italy, 9:34 a.m.

it was cold, when you woke up. freezing, in fact. that human warmth from the night before . . . it was gone, but what did you expect? a romantic morning-after scene? you two hadn’t even kissed for christs sake.

you laid there, feeling defeated. had you just made things awkward, between the two of you? would you ever get to speak to one another again, or would he avoid you? but, eh wasn’t like that, was he? no, he was kind, and sweet. and he wanted to share, no? he offered, and you accepted. he couldn’t do this to you.

almost an hour passed before you got up, soles of your feet warm against the ice-cold flooring.

and that’s when you saw it. a single note, crumpled and messy, on your nightstand, amongst the pile of drawings – a few missing, you noticed. his.

oh, shit.

you picked up the sheet of paper, eyes scanning the pages, reading each syllable aloud to yourself.

“you know, it’s rude to draw someone without showing them. i’m awfully offended, and am keeping these!

. . . not because i don’t like them. i love them. a lot. god, you’re talented. they’re cute.

i would have stayed. i wanted to. but i had an emergency, from mr. stark, and didn’t want to wake you with a call, y’know? please don’t be upset. i liked last night. i haven’t slept so well, in a while. maybe it’s a sign we should do it again? if you wanted? maybe?

– peter.”

perhaps this trip wasn’t so bad, after all, you decided as you tucked away the sheet. you’d keep it forever, if you could.

[beneathashadytree]

Hello,How do you feel now? I Hope your get better❤️Anyway congrats for your 2k followers,you really deserve it!

I love your stories and writing so much,and for request, could you please write spicy story about Albert James Moriarty having jealous sex with reader ? You can add little fluff in the end too👉👈prompts: 47, 63,64

LET HIM WATCH - ALBERT MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : this is obviously very NSFW, messy sex, cumming inside, jealousy sex, implied exhibitionism, cum-eating, dom!Albert, sub!reader, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : filth smut

Word count : 1.3K words (oh shit—)

Additional notes : Hi nonnie! I’m feeling quite alright now, thank you very much. You’re really too sweet! I’m glad to be celebrating this event with all of you guys. I honestly usually write under 1K words for this event, but this request was so good that I just ran with it. I hope it’s to your liking, though I apologize for being so late!💗

Prompts : "Be quiet. We're not alone." "You say that, but all I hear is 'more, more, more.'" "I want to love every inch of you tonight."

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

Albert Moriarty was a risk taker, and anyone who knew him well enough was aware of that. He liked to act on his whims (which always actually were carefully-constructed plans that depended a little too much on chance) despite knowing that he might very well lose it all, and he loved nothing more than pulling the rug from underneath everyone’s feet without them realizing. He was a wicked man, through and through.

But more wicked than anything he’d done was the way he was currently fucking his sweetheart half-dumb with his back against the wall in an abandoned drawing room, the loud sounds of the party still going on in the ballroom next-door.

Their fists were bunched in his smart shirt, desperately trying to hold onto anything as his cock mercilessly drove deeper into them; deep enough for them to jolt in his arms and arch their back in such a lewd way that, paired with the sex-drunk look in their hazy eyes and their kiss-swollen lips, it almost had him cumming on the spot.

This was much more frenzied than they’d ever seen Albert try to bed them. In fact, the way he wildly snapped his hips upwards as his arms pulled them deeper into his chest and faster down his cock was almost determined to fuck the common sense out of them.

They were already far too gone; after all, under no circumstances had they ever expected to find themselves being pumped full of his cum—not once, but twice—in the room next to the one where all the nobility of the ‘Ton mingled and chattered.

But how could they focus on anything else, when every vein and every ridge of him dragged against their walls so deliciously? How could they form a coherent thought, when his swollen tip abused that one spot that drove them mad with lust and had them writhing in his arms and crying his name like a wanton whore?

“Albert! F-fuck, slow down—!”

He clicked his tongue in mocking disapproval, an almost-condescending smile on his perfect face as he saw how their actions contradicted their words. They were pushing back to meet every single one of his thrusts, eager for the pornographic squelching that came with the meeting of skin against skin and his cock into their sopping hole.

“You say that, but all I hear is 'more, more, more,’” he chuckled. His hands had a mind of their own at this point. One had sought purchase in their thigh, fingers digging deep enough to leave bruises that had them squirming delightfully in their seat for days afterwards, while the other had reached up to pinch at their hardened nipples through their fancy clothes. “And I need to fuck you well enough to leave a mark inside you. After all, no one can do this but me, hm?”

A strangled moan left their mouth as he drove in particularly deep to punctuate the point he was trying to make.

“Your words, sweetheart.”

“Oh, God, yes. Sir, yes, sir. Only you, sir.”

With a tug at their thick locks, he smashed their mouths together, hungrily kissing them as if they would die if they weren’t connected in every single way possible. Teeth gnashed and tugged, and tongues tasted and sucked, so messily that he could swear he could see them drooling a little past the corner of their mouth.

Breathily, after pulling away for a moment, he asked, “Not even Lord Harrington?” What they could muster was only a small sound of dazed confusion, to which he tugged at their hair again and forced them to meet his burning emerald gaze. “He seemed awfully friendly with you earlier. Going on and on about his lands and perks, I presume?”

“N-no! Albert, I would never—“

“It isn’t a matter of whether or not you would, darling. Of course you wouldn’t,” he chuckled half-heartedly, though there was anything but mirth in his voice. He slammed up into them, his pace growing unforgiving, and causing them to twist and whine out another plea. “After all, he wouldn’t be able to ruin you like this. I always knew you liked it rough. I wonder, what he would say if he saw you like this, full of my cock and begging for it harder?”

In a rather ironic twist of fate, the door handle of the drawing room was being twisted open at that moment, and Albert barely had a few seconds to pull the both of them behind the curtains and press them up against the window. Footsteps resounded in the room, and he could hear the sigh of what could only be Lord Harrington himself sitting in an armchair and pulling out a cigarette in the furthest corner of the room.

Albert’s cruel smirk showed just how delighted he was at this turn of events. Before they could even register what was happening, he began pounding into them again, earning a surprised keen of pleasure, before he clamped his hand over their drooling mouth.

“Be quiet,” he hissed into their ear, “We're not alone. Or do you want Lord Harrington to see you all fucked out and desperate for my cum?” When he felt them clenching around him at his words, a jolt of surprise and arousal ran through him. “Oh? Looks like you do want that. Want him to see your pathetic little hole stretched around me? I could arrange that, darling. Just say the word.”

A pinch to their aching nipple, and then a tap to their thigh urged them to push harder against him and take him in deeper. Impossibly fast and ruthless, Albert paid little mind to the fact that Lord Harrington was smoking a mere few meters away from them and could very easily hear them, if not see them altogether. After all, it seemed like his naughty sweetheart had taken a liking to the idea of getting caught.

With a practiced hand, he reached down to teasingly touch them right where they liked it, mixing that with his firm grip. His other hand muffling their breathy gasps and shameless moans, it didn’t take long for him to feel their muscles spasming around him, their orgasm coming crashing into them. That delicious feeling alone coaxed his throbbing length to spill inside their warm walls, and he cursed under his breath at the sight of his cum spilling from where they were joined so messily, and down their flushed and bruised thighs.

In a daring display of lewdness that almost stunned him, they scooped his release from between their thighs as he pulled out of them with a low hiss, and stuck their fingers into their mouth. A satisfied hum, and they were licking every drop off their wet fingers. That sight alone kindled yet another raging fire inside of him; one that couldn’t be satisfied with a mere quick fuck behind the curtains.

“Just so you know,” they shakily whispered, clinging onto his lapels as they still seemed a little exhausted from their passionate craze, “It’s not his presence that makes the difference. It’s the thought of you showing us—me, off. That’s all, really.”

Albert could only swallow thickly, as he felt his heart thud in his chest. He barely registered the fact that Lord Harrington’s footsteps had taken him out of the room and closed the door behind him. All he could think of at the moment was that he couldn’t think of a more perfect person to have fallen so irrevocably in love with.

With a gentleness that had been absent from his fit of jealousy, he began to readjust their rumpled and half-strewn clothes. Clasping their sticky hands in his, he pulled them in closer for a tender, almost-laughably-chaste kiss to their soft lips.

“Let’s go outside and bid everyone our farewells. We can make it back home before ten.” He glanced at his watch for confirmation, then nodded. Brushing back their hair, he met their eyes, no less sensual, but all the more fond. “I want to love every inch of you tonight.”

Taglist : @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @whitecelluyu @wifeofkyojuro

[klbwriting]

Surface Tension

Chapter 7 - There's No Music Anymore

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: some violence, light assault

Summary: Somehow things get worse

Notes: Just for some levity, because these chapters made me sad, Patrick Wilson just has a shit ton of shirtless/naked GIFS, like the man hates clothes and I for one, understand, good for him, but it makes it very hard to find GIFs of sadness, comments/critiques appreciated!

Taglist: @hyperagitatedcydonian13 @gabrieleskywalker @philiasoul @duchcess

They finally stopped swimming once they hit actual deep water. Hendrix gripped one of Y/N’s arms while an Atlantian soldier gripped the other. They met up with two more soldiers and Queen Atlanna. She looked surprised at first but then mirrored her face to look at Hendrix confused. He held out Y/N as if he were offering the queen a crown.

“What are you doing with this person?” Atlanna asked, pretending she had never seen the girl before. She didn’t want to explain why she would know Y/N. Orm was still in hiding and this complication wasn’t something she wanted to lead back to him.

“This is Y/N Velix, bastard child of former councilwoman Roux Velix, she was the perpetrator of the attempted assassination of King Orm on his coronation day,” he said, smiling wide with pride. Finally, he could push the suspicion in the kingdom off himself, offer her up as the sacrifice for that day. Make way for the king to trust him and eventually he would kill him and ascend the throne himself.

“This is the woman who shot the pulsar at him?” Atlanna asked, shocked. She had obviously been exiled during that time, but she had heard about the coronation, had seen the footage that Hendrix had found of that day. But she had also seen how Y/N looked at Orm in that café. Whatever thoughts of killing him she had had then she did not have now. Right now, she looked devastated, shaking her head while fighting against Hendrix specifically, not the other guard. She didn’t want Hendrix to touch her.

“Yes, she was with the terrorist group know as Atlantis for All that I infiltrated. I heard their plan, and she was the leader,” he said. Then he smiled even more. “And I thought I saw someone we all thought dead my queen, another criminal on the run. Who was that man terrorist? Tell me his name and you perhaps will have mercy.” Y/N froze and looked at him. Atlanna’s jaw twitched, knowing that he was speaking of Orm. He was still assumed dead during the Black Trident attack, and they needed to keep it that way. Y/N could ruin it all and save herself right now.

“I don’t know who you think he is but he’s just a surface dweller, nothing important, you won’t see him again,” she said. Hendrix glared and slapped her. “Tell the truth trash!” he yelled. She turned her face to look at him, now past fear and into anger.

“He’s a surface dweller, he left, he won’t be coming back to me,” she said, enunciating as if he were a toddler. Hendrix snarled, taking his hand off her to wind up for a better hit. Y/N took the opportunity and swam at Atlanna, pretending to be trying to run. She collided with the queen, who held onto to her. She leaned close so only Atlanna would hear. “Tell him I’m sorry, please.” She was yanked back by the other guards and Hendrix hit her in the back of the head with a weapon, knocking her unconscious.

“She is lying, I’m sure of it, let me go investigate further,” Hendrix demanded. Atlanna held up a hand to silence him. He hated that she still held any power, he should have been king, and he was still listening to the surface loving whore.

“I will investigate. If who you say is up there then I can get him to come quietly. We have just revealed ourselves to the surface, we don’t want him to start a war with them trying to fight you off,” she said. Her word was final. Hendrix glared but nodded to the soldiers who moved with him to take Y/N back to Atlantis and to a cell.

Orm had arrived at Tom’s to find Atlanna off on business in Atlantis and Arthur on his way to him. In the meantime, he sat in AJ’s room, playing with the little one. He didn’t realize until his nephew came over and hugged him that he was crying. He’d never cried before, it felt like the tension he had been holding released. He gripped AJ close, but not tight and let him go when he heard someone come in the room.

“Hey little brother, what’s going on?” Arthur asked, picking up his son who ran to him. Orm got up, wiping his face quickly before turning. He could see Arthur knew, his eyes were red, and he looked a mess.

“Y/N…she um, she was lying to me the whole time,” he said finally.

“What? Was she married or something?” Arthur asked. Orm let out an annoyed breath. That he could have dealt with, better than this at least. Better her be married to someone else then her be not only Atlantian but accused of an assassination attempt against him.

“No Arthur, she isn’t married, but she’s Atlantian,” he said. Arthur looked more confused.

“What’s the problem then? You weren’t exactly honest about being from Atlantis yourself,” he said.

“No, but she knew who I was, anyone from Atlantis would. She knew who I was, and she didn’t tell me who she was. What she did, or what she tried to do…or stop doing…” he trailed off, thoughts muddling together.

“Ok, let's get a beer, I’m going to need a drink for this,” Arthur said, setting AJ down again and leading Orm to the kitchen. They got some beers and went to sit on the dock. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“We spent the night together…”

“My man, finally getting some action,” Arthur said, unable to stop himself. Orm glared at him, silencing his brother with one look.

“We spent the night together and this morning her friend came over. She was angry, I’m guessing another Atlantian, someone who almost lost her husband when I sent that tidal wave to the coast 5 years ago. She was saying how Y/N was a traitor to their cause pretty much,” he explained.

“Their cause?” Arthur asked. He had heard stories about different rebellions during the time Orvax, especially after it was discovered he had engineered and released the sickness that had killed so many in the lower city, but only one of them had really made any noise, Atlantis for All, after they attempted to assassinate Orm.

“She was part of Atlantis for All, she told them the parade route for my coronation, but according to her I was never supposed to be attacked. It was supposed to be a cracker that exploded over them, making me pay attention,” he said. Arthur thought for a moment. “I don’t know what to believe. She said they only wanted to help the people in the lower city. Her father was from there, she was raised there until he died. She’s a councilwoman’s bastard. Arthur, I’m so confused. I’ve never felt like this before, like everything hurts.” For the first time Orm leaned into Arthur for comfort, letting his brother hug him tight as they sat there.

“I brought the footage you asked for,” Arthur said. “I had some of the tech people clean it up as much as could be done. No one’s watched it yet, let’s find out if your lady is telling the truth. If she is, go back to her, talk it out. You were once a genocidal maniac wanting to destroy the surface, if you can change, maybe she has too. If she’s lying and she did try to kill you, well I’m going to take her back to Atlantis myself.” Orm shook his head.

“No, you’re not. If she did try to kill me, I’ll leave, but I don’t want anything done to her. She isn’t that person anymore,” he said. Arthur nodded and held up the holodisk, turning it on. Orm was taken back to that day. He was terrified, so scared of being a disappointment to his father, or worse, becoming his father. He had been able to put on a face, but that crown was so heavy that day, watching the footage now he could see how tired he was already, shoulders sagging just a little under the weight of expectation he was supposed to live up to.

The footage was shot from the side, almost behind the Atlantis for All protest. He heard her voice again, heart tearing in his chest at the sound of it. The song was an old one, about taking care of those around you, being a better person. It broke his heart to hear her, to know she had been right there, so close to him, and he never knew. Then he could see the person next to her putting up the energy pulsar. With the footage cleared up you could see the paint and tubing that disguised it as a cracker, only the soft lighting was giving it away. She hadn’t touched it, but he saw her turn, stare for a moment before shock came to her face. She didn’t know. She grabbed it and tried to yank it up, away from Orm, but the other person, whose face was shielded by the camera angle, yanked it back. It went off and just missed him. He turned off the video and put his head in his hands.

“She was telling the truth, she saved my life,” he said softly, tears coming again. Would they ever stop? Arthur stood, helping him up. He turned his brother’s face to him and held it.

“Go back to her, talk about it, talk about everything,” Arthur said. “Tell her you love her. You’re both different now.” Orm nodded. “Actually, come on, I’ll drive you back.”

The men arrived to find Atlanna on the porch waiting. They looked confused as they approached. She looked sullen and angry.

“Did that woman try to kill you?” she demanded of Orm. Orm’s eyes widened. How did she know about Y/N? If she knew who else did? He looked at her house as Arthur explained the footage and what they had found. Orm didn’t listen. He ran to the house, breaking inside and running from room to room, yelling for her. He was just opening the backdoor when Atlanna put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hendrix found her, he took her back to Atlantis for trial, she’s been accused of treason. They are asking for her execution.”

Orm fell to his knees, punching the ground once before screaming.