#*getting spoken over by this white dude

[muslimintp-1999-girl]

OK not to be that person and esp while I think he's still a little misogynistic, I watched some youtube videos and I think some of the things against him might have been taken out of context

[emchant3d]

part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1

Eddie Munson is not having a good day.

His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.

He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.

The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.

His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.

Time stops.

It’s Stevie.

He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.

Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.

His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.

And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”

“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”

“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.

It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.

Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.

Or not his version of her, anyway.

This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.

Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.

“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.

He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.

“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.

“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.

“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.

She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”

He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.

"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.

“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”

“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.

Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.

"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.

“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”

“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.

“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”

“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.

He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.

It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.

It looks like a status symbol.

It doesn’t look like her.

“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.

But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.

A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.

He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.

“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.

“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.

“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.

“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”

“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.

“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.

“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.

“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”

“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.

“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.

“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.

Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–

And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.

“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.

When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.

He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.

He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.

this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Bloody Painter/Helen Otis

This bad boy is LONNGG, I included a lot of his backstory in this. Writers block is beating my ass. 💔

- Twenty one!

- 6’1. When I say this dudes lanky, I mean LANKY. Slim and naturally toned, his main exercise comes from chasing or climbing stairs.

- Both of his parents are Korean, but he was raised in Pennsylvania.

- His parents struggled with getting pregnant, most ending is miscarriages. His mom was completely batshit, so when the pregnancy stuck she swore she had some divine intuition that made her believed he’d be a girl. She didn’t even bother having an ultrasound, so when he was born and she saw that he was a boy she thought him being a girl was some sort of prophecy she needed to fulfill.

- His whole life she had always told him he was meant to be a girl and he would be going against ‘God’s will’ if he didn’t follow through. He was always dressed in feminine clothing and had an extremely girly room. His mother didn’t put him in school until he was about thirteen, since she thought the kids would taint his mind and make him think he’s a boy.

- When he was put in school he got bullied RELENTLESSLY. His name, the way he dressed, everything. After meeting Tom he slowly started to realize that all the shit he grew up with wasn’t normal and his mom was psycho, so he started borrowing his clothes and changing in the school bathrooms so he could feel less weird. Once Tom admitted to planting Judy’s watch in Helen’s bag, they argued on the roof while getting slightly physical. Tom had slipped off the edge, but Helen managed to grab him. Of course, a middle schooler isn’t necessarily strong enough to hold another off a building without going down with them, so Tom let go to save Helen. Rumors spread that Helen had pushed him, but no one cared enough to investigate.

- After that school year was over he started to dress more androgynous/ masculine and ignored his mom’s pressure, which lead to her abusing him both physically and mentally. Eventually, with his ignored mental issues and the abuse he completely snapped, killing his mom and several of his bullies right before a Halloween party. He was sent to a psychiatric hospital that Slender ended up taking him from.

- VERY polite and proper. He’s pretty soft spoken and his grammar is like never flawed, big word user. 1000% the type of guy to kiss your hand as a greeting. The most he’ll do if he doesn’t like you is give you the silent treatment or a dirty look.

- Weird little detail, but his fingers and SLIM and LONG. His nails are neatly kept. He likes to pamper himself.

- He does botany in his free time! Any flower arrangements in the mansion and the gardens outside are his doing. There’s a few residents that he brings bouquets to every other week so they can have something nice. EJ, Sally, and Jane are his usual market. Also does flower pressing.

- Used to do ballet when he was about 4-7.

- Definitely the safest driver, but that makes him a pain as a get away driver. Always goes the exact speed limit and follows every possible law.

- Mainly listens to classical music. However, he does like Billy Joel, Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, even a little bit of Queen.

- His room is SO nice and very big. Long sheer curtains, velvet & silk bedding, a grand piano, flowers, tall bookshelves, chairs, a large bed with a canopy, big windows, and lots of sculptures and framed paintings done by him. He’s really into elegant things and floral patterns. Has a mural on his ceiling!

- Hangs out with EJ, Liu, Puppeteer, and Jane. Rarely does he talk to any of the proxies or any creeps he’s not close with. Awfully reserved.

- Loves the fine arts. Painting, writing, music, sculpting, all that jazz. Occasionally does poetry! Him and Liu both like to write, so sometimes they’ll get together and talk about it. He mostly reads old classic books & poetry.

- Jane has taught him how to sew, although he doesn’t find much use for it.

- He has a white persian cat named Juliette in his room no one knows about other than his close friends. She never leaves the room, but she’s content; it has enough room to have lots of things just for her. He has a MASSIVE painting of her renaissance style by her bed. (He got her one of those fancy cat beds that look like a tiny rich person couch.) Pampers her to death.

- I know in his canon design he has that denim kinda jacket on with the pin, but in my HC he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that. Usually wears jeans and baggy button ups while he’s painting, but his day to day outfits are well put together. Rich person style in clothes — turtle necks, slacks, dress shoes, almost kind of dark academia.

- Super high standards in general, but especially when it comes to food. Fine dining for sure. Usually buys only enough ingredients for a serving just for him so he doesn’t have to leave them in the fridge. He doesn’t trust the other residents at ALL.

- This guy is ROLLING in it. He has so much loose cash from victims he can do whatever the hell he wants, big reason why his cat is living like royalty.

- Drinks at least one glass of wine a day. He has an entire rack in his room of old, fine wines. A lot of them are from Europe.

- For whatever reason, he’s an amazing masseuse.

- All of his candles and soaps are very high quality and expensive. He won’t settle for anything less.

- Can play the piano and the violin! He would kill to have a harpsichord, he might.

- He’s not big on history, but he could talk for hours about the titanic. He’s done paintings of it and has watched every possible documentary on it. Thinks the movie is a work of art.

I hope you all liked this! I love this fine man.

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

[chukys-mouthguard]

why not both

5.4K words

genre: smut

warnings: minors DNI, 18+ content; threesome, dirty talk

featuring: jamie drysdale x female reader x cam york

summary: when two men are fighting over who gets to sleep with you, why not choose both?

note: the reader and Cam often call Jamie “jim” or “jimmy” in this as a nickname. Also, this is my first ever attempt at writing a threesome, these 2 men just really needed to be written together in my opinion 🥵 I’m not super proud of this but hopefully y’all like it 🫶🏼

Giving yourself a once over pulling at the hem of your skirt, you questioned if it was too short. Knowing the boys you were hanging around they’d surely love if it was, so you opted to ask Jamie, the least likely to undress you with his eyes and give you his honest opinion.

“Jamieee!”

Soon enough the jet black haired boy appeared in the doorway of your bathroom, his outfit making you chuckle.

“I swear to god you and Cam really said what’s the most generic outfit to wear for a country music festival…anyways, thoughts?”

Hands on your hips you did a spin, giving him the opportunity to take in your outfit. A black mini skirt and black cowboy boots, paired with a white tank top that read j’adore cowboys and a black cowboy hat to top it off. Jamie’s jaw slightly parted as he looked you up and down.

“I feel like I reallyyy dropped the ball now seeing you.”

He flashed you a shy smile as you took his words as a sign that you looked good. Tipping your cowboy hat to him as you walked past, stealing his High Noon in the process as you tossed back the remnants that were in the can.

“Thanks Jimmy!”

The sounds of Morgan Wallen blasting from the kitchen of the airbnb as you walked in to find Cam pouring shots for you all.

“Where the hell is everyone?”

Noticing the house was empty you checked the time, assuming you were running late as you usually did. However today you managed to be almost 30 minutes early, a new record for you.

“They are on their way and-holy shit, someone is trying to get all the cowboys hot and bothered today huh?”

Cam flashed you a cocky smirk as he handed you a shot, leaning against the counter while he took in your outfit. Playing with the silver sparkly chain that laid over the skin of your exposed stomach.

“Don’t you know that necklaces are meant for your neck?”

Cam leaning in towards you, grinning from ear to ear before you’d mirrored him, your faces inches from one another.

“Don’t you know that I don’t give a fuck?”

Raising your eyebrows you tossed back your shot, giving him a wink before Jamie joined the two of you asking for his own.

The dynamic between the two boys was one you’d never fully understood, but it made sense. Cam was outspoken, a cocky fuck to put it plainly, who would tell you exactly what he wanted to say, whether it was something you wanted to hear or not. The energy between the two of you was always one of trying to one up each other, your competitive sides always on display. But Jamie, he was the total opposite. Soft spoken, mindful of anything and everything that came out of his mouth. He was the one you went to for advice, the late night talks where you’re up until 3am eventually forgetting the point of the conversation.

Though bringing the two of them together always guaranteed a good time. Hot guys, alcohol, and a music festival, a girl was living the dream.

Once the rest of your group had arrived, it was time to head out. The girls of course needing to take tons of pictures before leaving, making the boys roll their eyes but giving them the opportunity to toss back a few more shots.

“Why’d she call you to her room earlier Jim?”

Cam shot Jamie a playful smirk as the boys trailed behind the girls on the long path to the entrance gates, to which he shook his head with a laugh.

“No way dude, don’t even go there. She asked me what I thought of her outfit.”

Rolling his eyes Cam threw an arm over Jamie’s shoulder. His voice now just above a whisper as he didn’t want the group to overhear.

“You’re telling me that outfit she has on isn’t driving you crazy? Cause shit, she is driving me crazy right now in that mini skirt.”

“Keep it in your pants dude!”

Jamie shoved Cam from his side with a laugh, trying to ignore his friend's comments. Cam just putting his hands up with a shrug. “Listen Jim, if you won’t finally make a move, I just might.”

Jamie had hid his feelings for you since the day you’d met. He had never seen a girl so beautiful, but he wasn’t the type to be forward and blunt about how he felt. Unlike Cam who made it known that he thought you were hot and would do anything for a chance with you. Jamie had told Cam in confidence one night how he felt, at the time not knowing that Cam felt the same way. And since then it had been their secret, one that almost brought out the competitiveness between them whenever the three of you got together.

-

Several hours into the festival, having been spent in the direct sunlight, it was safe to say you were in need of water and food. Thanking yourself for picking an outfit that didn’t have much fabric so you were somewhat cooler than those who had multiple layers. The boys benefited from the fact that they could simply take their shirts off, while you could only put your hair up in hopes of it cooling you down.

“If I don’t get french fries in my mouth in the next five minutes, I might actually die.”

You groaned as you sat on the grass, fanning yourself with you hat as your friend group followed suit. All of you trying to rest before you headed off to the next artist’s stage.

“Someone ask for some french fries?”

Jamie smiled as he sat down next to you, handing you a basket of fries, seeing the look on your face as you practically scarfed them down in seconds.

“I could kiss you right now Jamie oh my god!”

The phrase making his eyes go wide, despite knowing that there was likely no intention behind it. Though he couldn’t help but think back to Cam’s words from earlier. Hoping that maybe today, in a moment of drunken false confidence, he’d work up the courage to finally make a move.

“Oh my god!”

Jamie was shook from his thoughts as he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong.

“What!?”

“You even remembered I love ranch with my fries? God I love you Jamie!”

He softly smiled as he was happy to know he’d made your day remembering such a minor detail about you. The two of you sitting in silence as you refueled yourselves before heading off to the next spot.

“I really do like your outfit today by the way. Sorry I got a little tongue tied when you asked me this morning.”

You watched Jamie slightly blush as he spoke, his eyes not connecting with yours as he seemed almost nervous about his words. A smile on your face as you continue munching on your fries.

“Tongue tied? Because of?”

“How hot you looked, obviously.”

The words catching you off guard coming from Jamie, sure he’d complimented you before but never so bluntly. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe the heat was getting to him. But it was a side of him you liked. Having spent so much time with Cam you thought for sure he would’ve gained some of Cam’s confidence, his boldness. But he’d remained the kind and gentlemanly man he’d been since the day you met, which you appreciated in contrast to Cam. Though sometimes you wanted to see that cockier side of Jamie, and see him be more outspoken. Not let Cam run the show or call the shots so much.

“You think I look hot?”

“Oh absolutely, you alwa-“

“Don’t mind if it do!”

Cam interrupted Jamie’s words as he pushed between the two of you, stealing a few fries from your basket before he tipped his hat to you and blew you a kiss.

“Thank you little lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head before you looked back at Jamie who was awkwardly laughing off the situation. Almost thankful Cam interrupted so he didn’t end up saying what he planned.

You tucked some hair behind your ear as he offered to help you stand up, taking your empty fry basket and tossing it in the trash as your group was ready to start walking again.

“Jamie, you were saying something? Before we were rudely interrupted!”

Making the gesture as if you were going to kick Cam in the butt as you empathized your words, causing Jamie to laugh.

“Just that, you always look hot to me.”

He flashed you a wink before one of the guys had called him away for something, lucky for you as a blush was quickly creeping over your cheeks. Hopefully disguised as you just being flush from the heat so no one would think much of it.

As your group made your way to the final stage of the night, you all had grown eager for the final performer. It was the main reason you’d come to the festival, and you all were ready to sing until your voices gave out.

Onlookers probably thought your group was annoying, the way you all belted out the lyrics, dancing around with one another. But none of you cared, enjoying every second of the night you all had been looking forward to all summer.

As you danced around, you noticed Jamie standing and talking with Trevor, drinks in hand like two awkward freshman at their first college party. Making your way over to them, you grabbed Jamie’s hand, attempting to bring him out of his shell a bit.

“Jamie don’t make me dance alone, come onnn!”

He smiled down at you as you took his hands in yours, laughing as you belted out the words along with the crowd. But despite being as drunk as he was, he wasn’t giving you much to work with. Simply rocking back and forth as he watched you. A smile on his face as he’d wondered if this was his chance, to make his move like Cam had teased him about.

But as the song came to an end, you’d let go of his hands and clapped along with the crowd. Looking on in anticipation as you all tried to predict the next song, Jamie immediately missing the feel of your hands in his as he rejoined Trevor at the back of the group.

The second the slower strums of the guitar started, you threw your hands to your hat in shock, searching the area for Cam as you knew his reaction would be similar. This song had been your favorite from the album, and you’d each had it on repeat for weeks leading up to tonight.

He’d found you from across the group, the two of you immediately belting out the words as he wrapped his arms around you, swaying you to the music before he’d switched to slow dancing.

Jamie watched as you threw your head back laughing, the way Cam’s hands were resting at your waist, beating himself up for being too concerned about what people thought to dance with you how you’d wanted. He couldn’t blame Cam for the way he acted around you, Cam wasn’t afraid to show you how he felt towards you. And you seemed to appreciate the boldness of him. And while Jamie felt he expressed his feelings in other ways, he was starting to think that it wasn’t good enough.

-

After several hours in the sun and far too much alcohol, you all were ready to head home. The house was only a short walk once outside the fairgrounds, but your feet were killing you in your boots and you were sure they would be covered in blisters. Every step hurt worse than the last, and you were ready to take your boots off and leave them behind.

“Ouch, fuck.”

Jamie noticed you wincing as you walked, and in true Jamie fashion he’d thought up an idea. Stopping you in your tracks, he’d positioned himself in front of you, slightly bending down before instructing you to jump.

Normally you’d question him whether or not he was sober enough to carry you, but with the alcohol flowing through your system and the pain in your feet, you gladly accepted. Wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your thighs, the two of you were the closest you’d ever been. Your cheek practically touching his as he carried you with ease down the trail.

His eyes occasionally catching yours before you’d look away embarrassed. Luckily the amount of alcohol in your system and a slight sunburn was hiding any blush that had appeared on your cheeks.

“You good?”

Jamie smirked at you as his eyes traveled from yours to your lips, then back. Something in them was different, and you felt almost nervous to be so close to him. Taking the time to appreciate how good he smelled, the way his face lit up when he looked at you. Sure you’d always thought Jamie was attractive, but you’d never thought about him in that way. But feeling his biceps flex as he carried you with ease, his hands gripping your thighs just beneath your ass, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol getting you warm or something else.

“Giddy up cowboy!”

The sting of Cam slapping your ass quickly pulled you out of the moment with Jamie as you playfully yelped. A hand leaving Jamie’s neck to grab at your ass, rubbing the sore spot before you cursed Cam.

“Don’t have it on display if you don’t want me touching it, little lady.”

He playfully tipped his hat at you, flashing a wink before he ran to catch up with some of the guys.

“He’s such a perv.”

You laughed as your arm returned to wrap around Jamie’s neck. Noticing how Jamie’s expression had turned a bit annoyed, not used to seeing him that way.

“Jamie, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, trying to laugh it off and pretend like it was nothing. Embarrassed that he was even getting jealous over Cam’s interactions with you.

“Nothing, it’s, it’s nothing.”

You glared at him as he kept his eyes forward, knowing him all too well to believe that it was simply nothing. He could feel your eyes practically burning a hole in his cheek, finally letting out a sigh as he gave in.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s anything you don’t already know. It’s silly that I’m even bothered by Cam wanting to fuck you so bad.”

You practically choked on your own saliva hearing the words pour from Jamie’s mouth. Sure you knew that Cam flirted with you, hell he flirted with every girl that crossed his path. But either you don’t know him well enough, or you’re just oblivious to him wanting to sleep with you.

“Um, actually I didn’t know that…but why does that bother you?”

Jamie knew he could risk jeopardizing his friendship with you, but Cam was right. He needed to finally man up and make a move or he’d never have the chance.

“Because I obviously like you too. You can’t tell me you’ve never noticed it? I mean I don’t run around slapping your ass and drooling over you in front of your face. But, Cam and I feel the same way. We have for, well forever.”

“So you want to fuck me too?”

Jamie bit his tongue, unsure if he should open up a can of worms with his response. He knew the second he’d admitted how he felt, there was no turning back.

-

“You fucking told her?”

Cam’s voice was barely above a whisper as he scolded Jamie, shocked to know he’d finally grew a pair and told you how he felt. But not without dragging Cam into the mix along with him.

“Well, you told me to make a move, but then you were busy making a move and I got jealous and she noticed and it just slipped out!”

The two of them whisper bickering back and forth, trying not to make too much noise for you to overhear as you’d gone to take your hat and boots up to your room.

“It slipped out for you to tell our best friend that we both want to fuck her? Jimmy I swear to god I could kill you!”

Walking into the kitchen you couldn’t help but notice the two boys awkwardly stopping their conversation. Both of them smiling at you as if to cover up something.

“Um, hi?”

“Hey, how uh, are your feet feeling?”

Jamie tried his best to break up the awkwardness, Cam slightly laughing at his choice of a convention starter as he walked over to the island to crack open a drink.

“What is going on with you two?”

Leaning on the counter as you snacked on some chips, holding a hand out for Cam to pass you his drink so you could steal a sip. His eyes darting from Jamie to you as he handed it over, a smirk on his lips as he chuckled.

“Look, I know Jamie let the cat out of the bag. So, we just want to know, who would you pick?”

Leaning against the counter as he took his drink back from you, Cam couldn’t help but smile. Crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited your response. Jamie’s eyes wide as he had no part in the questioning, easily you knew this was Cam’s idea.

“I’m sorry?”

Playing dumb you countered the question as you walked over to Cam, jumping up to sit on the counter as he shook his head. He could see right through you, knowing that you knew exactly where he was going with this conversation. But you figured you’d have a little fun with the two of them, make things more interesting.

Cam looked to Jamie, seeing that he wasn’t going to be the one to push the conversation forward, per usual he’d have to be the one to take the lead.

“I said, which one of us would you pick to fuck you?”

Cam’s hands were now on either side of your thighs, his lips inches from yours as he studied your response, seeing how you’d slightly tensed up as he got closer. Your breath hitching in your throat at his forwardness.

“I have to pick?”

A playful tone in your voice as you raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned back against the counter behind him to join Jamie. The two boys in front of you impatiently waiting for a response. Cam assuredly thinking the answer would be him simply on account of his boldness. While Jamie was hoping it was him to knock Cam off his high horse, wanting this competition between the two of them to finally be over with.

“Can I pick both?”

Both of their eyes going wide at your response as they were sure you were joking, earning a slight laugh from you. The idea certainly not one you’d had prior to this very moment, but who could blame you?

Cam had always struck you as the type of guy you’d normally go for. Outspoken, a little bit of an asshole, knows he’s hot and will be sure to remind you of it. But could back it up with his body and his ability to make you blush with every flirtatious comment that came off his lips.

Jamie on the other hand, was more reserved and lacked the surplus of confidence Cam possessed. He’d compliment you, but never too boldly. Always a gentleman and respectful, though you often wondered what he might be hiding should you ever get past his shy demeanor. Like Cam, his body was one you’d occasionally get caught staring at, the both of them strict about their gym routines and it showed.

Still in their cutoff flannels from the festival your eyes landed on their biceps, then traveling to their chests that were peeking out due to one too many buttons being undone. Which you definitely appreciated, having to squeeze your thighs together to help with the building pressure you’d started to feel as you thought about the idea of the two of them finally getting their hands on you after wanting the opportunity for so long.

Cam took notice of you pressing your thighs together, a smirk on his lips as he looked at Jamie, who was clearly hot and bothered himself over the idea as he awkwardly adjusted his stance as if to hide a growing problem in his shorts.

“Well, what do you say Jimmy, should we give the little lady what she wants?”

He waited for a moment, to get some type of response from Jamie, but he clearly was unsure of the idea. Like a deer in headlights as he watched Cam close the distance between the two of you. His lips immediately on yours, sloppy as he’d clearly been aching to have this moment. As predicted, Cam fought you for dominance. His tongue pushing past your lips as his hands gripped your face, a slight moan escaping you as you gripped his ginger curls.

Cam playfully bit your lip before his trailing kisses down to your neck. First sucking, then biting, and finally trailing his tongue over the red marks to soothe the skin.

“Fuck Cam”

He smirked against your skin hearing his name pour from your lips, urging him to continue. As your eyes slowly fluttered open, you found Jamie trying to ease the discomfort in his shorts. Embarrassed when he locked eyes with you, unsure of what to do. Sensing his hesitation to jump in, clearly by Cam taking charge of the situation, you reached a hand out to him. Pulling him towards you by his shirt as his hands softly rested on your thighs.

“Oh come on Jamie, you said you wanted to fuck me right?”

Your tone playful as you teased him, pulling him by the chin to your lips. Fingers tangled in his black locks as his hand moved to your waist, lightly digging into your skin as he finally seemed to relax.

“Atta boy Jimmy, don’t be shy. She wants it just as bad as you do.”

The kiss intensified as Jamie became more comfortable, a hand slowly pushing past your tank top to find your lace covered breasts. His hand immediately bypassing the fabric, earning a moan of approval from you as you broke the kiss, gazing up at both boys with lust filled eyes. The two of them unsure what to do next as they’d not planned for a moment like this.

“How about we go somewhere that gives us a little more space to work with?”

Biting your lip you nodded in agreement, Cam pulling you in for one last kiss before he led the way upstairs. Jamie offering to help you from the counter, to which you accepted. But not without trying to ease his nerves in the process.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him in for a kiss, his hands gripping at your waist as your legs circled his, inviting him to lift you off the counter.

Jamie carried you upstairs, the two of you stealing more kisses from one another before he laid you on the bed. Cam tossing his shirt to the side, then discarding his shorts before he’d begun trailing kisses up your thighs.

Jamie following suit before joining you on the bed, his lips finding yours again as his hands pulled your tank top over your head, eyes immediately getting ahead of his actions and undressing you further. Your hand dropping to his cock that was pressing against your side through his briefs. Jamie moaning into the kiss as you palmed him over the fabric.

Cam noticed your focus on Jamie, lightly biting at your inner thigh to gain your attention.

“Ow fuck, Cam!”

“Sorry, you were giving him all the attention. I want to know I’m making you feel good too baby.”

His hands hooked into the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down with your thong in one motion. Instinctually you closed your legs, nervous for the boys to see you so vulnerable, but Cam immediately gripped your thighs, pulling them apart as he positioned himself at your core.

“Come on baby, you can’t be shy now. You chose both remember?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Cam’s tongue trace up your slit, your free hand falling to his hair as you gripped his curls. The other hand pushing past the waistband of Jamie’s briefs, stroking him slowly as his lips fell to your neck. Breath heavy as he moaned against your skin.

“Fuck.”

His moans were needy, telling you’d need more than just your hand.

“Take these off, let me give you more than just a hand.”

Lifting his hips, Jamie pulled down his briefs. His cock slapped against his stomach as your jaw had slightly dropped at the sight. His size definitely not what you’d expected but you weren’t complaining.

“Mmm, you gonna suck his cock while I eat your pussy baby?”

Without warning Cam slips a finger between your folds to accompany the work of his tongue. Your hips arching off the bed into his touch as Jamie pulled you towards the edge of the bed, tilting your jaw to face him as he stroked his cock. Eyes falling to yours for the go ahead before slowly thrusting into your mouth.

“Holy…fuck.”

His hands falling to your hair, guiding you down as far as you’d let him. Gagging as you deepthroated him, Jamie’s breathing harsh as his head fell back at the feeling.

“Mm, she being a good girl for you Jim?”

“So fucking good.”

Jamie’s eyes met yours as he watched you take all of him in your mouth, his grip tightening in your hair as he fought the urge to fuck your face. Wanting to go easy on you and not rush anything.

Cam dipped a second finger into you without warning, picking up his pace as your hips bucked against him. His free hand moving to hold your hips in place. Wanting to help you ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck, oh my god Cam I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t stop fucking her face Jim, make her take it.”

Jamie grabbed your hair, finally giving in to his urges. Thrusting into you as his cock hit your throat, eyes watering as you felt your climax closing in. Cam’s tongue and fingers in unison as your clenched around them, hips lifting off the bed as you came. Your moans muffled as your mouth was preoccupied with Jamie’s cock.

“Mm, she tastes so fucking good Jim. Come try for yourself.”

Jamie pulled his cock from your lips, taking Cam’s place between your legs. His eyes flashing up to you for approval before you gripped his hair and urged him to taste you.

Cam positioning himself behind you as his hands gripped your breasts, kneading the skin before focusing on your nipples as he watched Jamie along with you.

Jamie’s tongue slowly traced your slit, stopping to pay attention to your clit, the sensation causing you to buck against his face as you were still coming down from your high. Cam’s lips falling to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin before he brought your lips to his.

Hearing you moan into his mouth let him know Jamie was doing a good job. He watched as your hands gripped his hair tight, grinding your hips to match the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

“You want him to fuck you now? I think you can handle it baby.”

Biting your lip you nodded your head, fingers releasing their grip in Jamie’s hair, though he continued. Enjoying the taste of you as he’d felt you tighten your grip on his fingers, letting him know you were close.

“Tell him what you want, use your words.”

“Please Jamie, fuck me. I need you.”

The words pouring from your lips like magic to his ears, his cock twitching at the sound of you begging for him. Pulling his fingers from you, immediately earning a whine as you already missed the contact. Cam’s fingers soon taking over as Jamie lined himself with your entrance.

He stroked himself a few times before thrusting into you, the feeling of Jamie’s cock stretching you while Cam’s fingers circled your clit had you seeing black.

“How does she feel Jim?”

“So fucking tight, fuck!”

Jamie’s hands gripped your hips as he couldn’t bother going slow, his thrusts hard and quick as he’d already been close since you’d had him in your mouth.

“Does he feel good baby? Stretching you out while I rub your clit?”

Cam’s cocky smirk was working overtime. You always assumed he was a freak, but you swore he was made for sex. The way dirty talk rolled off his lips and had you dripping wet at the sound, you were wondering how you’d gone so long without this.

“Mhm, feels so fucking good. I, I’m so close. Please don’t fucking stop.”

But instead he pulled himself from you, a gasp catching in your throat as you’d had your climax halted from the immediate loss.

You looked at Jamie as he climbed onto the bed, laying down next to you as he stroked himself.

“It’s only fair Cam gets a chance to feel how tight you are too baby.”

The sound of Jamie calling you baby had you melting, rolling over onto your knees as Cam gladly took advantage of the opportunity to fuck you from behind. His grip tight on your hip as he teased your slit with his cock, loving how wet you were.

“Ready baby?”

Ready as you’d ever be.

You’d taken Jamie’s cock back into your mouth as his hands tangled into your hair, forcing you down his length as Cam finally thrusts into you. Your moans muffled as you deepthroated Jamie, Cam’s fingers leaving bruises on your skin as he held you while his thrusts showed no signs of ceasing.

“Fuck, pussy is so tight baby. Jimmy didn’t stretch you out too much huh?”

“Fuck you Cam!”

You watched as Jamie spat back at Cam before his eyes reconnected with yours as your hand began working in unison with your mouth. His hips bucking against you as he grew close to his climax.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum baby. Keep sucking his cock, make sure he cums for you.”

“Mmm, shit. I’m gonna cum.”

Both boys moans turning you on, the low groans and grunts that spilt from their lips as they both were nearing their peaks. Watching as Jamie’s abs twitched while his breaths were short and choppy.

“Yes, fuck, ah”

The boys groaned out almost in unison. Jamie’s head fell back against the pillow as he came, your mouth still on his length as you felt the warmth of his seed hit the back of your throat. Making sure to swallow it all while you felt Cam pull his length from you as he came on your ass.

The three of you sweaty and exhausted as you tried to catch your breath. Cam heading to the restroom to grab a towel, while Jamie found you a tshirt and himself some shorts.

As the three of you got cleaned up, you nestled between the two of them under the blankets. Your head on Jamie’s chest with your legs were tangled with Cam’s, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh.

“So, you think you’ll be more likely to come visit us in Philly next season?”

Cam raised an eyebrow at you while Jamie just laughed, a hand running through your hair as you shrugged.

“I mean, if the visit is anything like tonight, I don’t see why not.”

The boys both smiling at your answer, pleased with themselves that they didn’t disappoint. Happy to have finally gotten the chance at something they were sure would never happen.

“I think the real question we want to know is, who was better? And it’s okay if you need to tell Cam he was better just so his feelings don’t get hurt, I understand.”

Rolling your eyes you could not believe how competitive they truly were. Although you could, considering that they made it a point to trash talk each other during sex.

“Mmm, hate to say it but I think it’s a tie. We might need to try again to solidify a winner?”

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 1

Hello! I know there are a few minutes left of the poll, but there is nothing that could happen in the next 15 minutes that is going to change the outcome.

3 to 1 in favor of the main story first. The only reason I asked, was because that story has been finished a long time, but this one is just getting started. But the masses have spoken.

Original prompt here.

Summary: Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys made it big right out of high school. So big that Metallica could open for them. Outselling the biggest bands and artists. They are huge. Then a small little indy metal band called The Fallen comes on the scene. They wear hoods and masks and go by aliases. Eddie (and most of the rest of the metal scene) are dismissive of them. More splash then talent.

Only fans don't thinks so. So when Dustin takes him to one of their concerts Eddie learns two things.

One that they are super talented.

And two, that he knows at least of one the members' of the band's real identity.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Getting out of Hawkins had always been the dream. Being able to do it with three of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing with their music? That was the cherry on top of the icing.

But Eddie never dreamed that Corroded would outsell one his favorite bands of all time. Never even crossed his mind to dream about.

But there it was in black and white. Corroded Coffin was the highest grossing band of the year. Metallica was seventh. Fuck they had outsold Taylor Swift for Christ’s sake.

Barely.

But it still counted damn it!

What was a surprise was the number nineteenth best selling band of the year. A band he’d never heard of before. The Fallen. It said the genre was metal in that little italic font.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Yeah, it was impossible to listen to every up and coming metal band. But if they had already hit this big with only their second album, surely Eddie would have heard them on the radio.

Only on their last tour Chrissy Cunningham, their beautiful and amazing manager had put an embargo on the radio because the riffs were finding their way into Eddie’s song writing. So he guessed it made sense that he hadn’t heard of them.

So he called the one person he knew who would have all the details on these guys.

“Dusty!” he greeted when the man picked up. Man. Shit, when did they all get so old?

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted back. “Finally back in town?”

Eddie grinned. “You know it. Dude, you know my tour schedule better than Chrissy does.”

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “Guess who hit the top of the most successful metal bands of the decade?”

“Oh my god!” Dustin screamed. “That’s so cool! Is the issue out on stands yet or did you get a sneaky peak for having made it to the top of their list?”

Eddie winced. “Sadly the later. But! I can bring it over to show you when I come to hang out.”

“That’s acceptable,” Dustin said. “Steve just got back in town, too. That label he works for sure does like dragging him all over the world.”

Eddie hummed. “Yeah? Where’d they send him this time?”

“Japan if you can believe it,” Dustin huffed. “He basically came home sometime around midnight and just crashed.”

Eddie didn’t know what Steve and Robin did for the studio, no one did. But the general consensus was that they were dogsbodies of some sort. Getting coffees for execs and stars, driving them places. Just stuff they didn’t want to hire out for, they made Robin and Steve do.

“I won’t be waking him up if I come over, will I?” Eddie asked, biting his lip. He had a crush on the other man. A large one. But fame and fortune kept getting in the way of something more.

“Nah,” Dustin assured him. “He woke up about an hour ago. He’s even showered and eaten. He’ll want to see you as much as I do.”

Eddie very much doubted that, but he was going to take it. “Great! This list is insane, man. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Come over for dinner,” Dustin suggested. “We’ll pour over the list over pizza and beer.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re old enough for beer now.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Dustin said. Eddie could feel the eye roll from here.

****

Eddie was watching Steve in interest.

He was walking around like he was used to being in high heels or something, as he would catch himself on his toes and force his feet down on his heels.

He would jump at Dustin throwing open the door. He kept touching his face and rubbing at his throat.

Robin was constantly pushing tea into his hands to get them settle. When they weren’t cradling the tea mugs, they were all over the place. Not just his face. But his back and stomach, too. Rubbing his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Dude!” Dustin hissed. “What is wrong with you? Japan can’t have been that different from America.”

Steve winced from the sound. “Bud, you are seriously being too loud. I told you that I have a migraine.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Hey do you need me to go? Butthead here said you were fine.”

Steve looked up at Eddie and his expression softened. “I’m fine as long as you aren’t yelling like Dusty Buns, here.”

Eddie chuckled. “I hear that. So how was Japan? When me and the boys went a couple years ago it was so beautiful.”

Steve rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows. “I wish I could have seen more of it. It felt like we were running nonstop. At least we aren’t roadies. I don’t think I could do the work they do. They’re the true beating heart of the operation.”

Eddie nodded. “Our last tour we had twelve trucks of roadies and equipment. It was insane.”

Robin grabbed Steve’s cold tea mug and swapped it with a warm one. Steve murmured his thanks. “I’m still not sure if I’m on this time zone yet. And I worry that this fucking migraine may throw me off even further.”

“Is that why Robin is plying you with tea?” Eddie asked. “To keep you awake enough to go bed at the right time?”

Steve nodded, humming contently over the cup of tea. “Nothing caffeinated, not really. Peppermint for the most part, honey lemon, too. She thinks I might be coming down with travelers’ cough.”

Again Steve made an aborted movement toward his face.

“Stop doing that!” Dustin hissed again. “Why do you keep touching your face like that? Did the Tibetan monks curse you or something?”

Robin smacked the back of his head. “That’s China, doofus! And no, no one has been cursed. We had to wear face masks like the surgeons wear for a lot of the trip because there had been a flu outbreak.”

Eddie nodded. “Ooh, yeah. They recommended we wear them too in certain areas, it wouldn’t surprise me if I was that twitchy when we moved to the Australian leg of the tour.”

Dustin eyed Steve warily, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe him or not, but Eddie had backed him up, so Dustin decided to let it go.

For now.

“Where were you touring again?” Steve asked Eddie after taking a long sip from his mug. “South America, wasn’t it?”

“Right in one, big boy,” Eddie enthused. “It was our first time in some of those countries so it was super exciting meeting the people, learning the culture, eating the food. I swear by the end of the tour we had all gained at least ten pounds and that was with us sweating our asses off on stage almost every night.”

Steve winced. “I don’t know how you guys do it, the stage lights we had were merciless.”

“Years and years of practice, Stevie,” Eddie said, “years and years of practice.”

Dustin turned to Eddie. “All right I think I’ve been patient enough, I want to see the top twenty money makers of metal before I vibrate out of my skin.”

Steve laughed and smacked the back of his head. “You know who number one is, why do you care about the other nineteen?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not just metal bands, my weird little friend. But out of all the bands.”

He pulled out the magazine and Dustin snatched it out of his hands, careful not to rip it.

Dustin was furiously reading the list and it was clear that he was looking for someone specific.

“Eureka!” he cried. “I knew it! I knew they were outselling other new metal bands.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Who’s that, bud?”

“The Fallen!” he cried. “They are so cool man. They have these on stage personas like Daft Punk and they kick ass on stage. I was so bummed when they didn’t come to Pasadena or anywhere near there when they were doing their US leg of their tour.”

Dustin was going to school at Caltech because as much as he wanted to go to MIT his mom was worried about him being by himself, so he moved out to California to move in with Steve.

He was on campus for housing most of the year, but he came home on the weekends and that put Claudia’s mind at rest.

Steve himself had moved out to California a couple of years before. Robin and him had gotten a job at record company and had to move out there to be closer to the headquarters.

Interestingly, or at least to Dustin, Steve’s friends all found jobs out here, too.

“I saw that one,” Eddie was saying. “But I’d never heard of them are they any good?”

Dustin scoffed. “Are they any good? Holy shit are they good.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re a metal band, no offense to Eddie here, but there are only three metal bands on the whole list. Most of them are pop, rap, or country. How good can they be?”

Eddie scoffed and held his hands to his heart. “You wound me!” Then he flopped on the sofa, playing dead.

“That’s what does make them so good, Steve,” Dustin insisted. “Because there are only three metal bands on the list, it means they had to work their asses off twice as hard as the others.”

Eddie popped up. “Yeah, Stevie!” He stuck out his tongue and Steve laughed.

“You got any of the albums?” Steve asked, with a flippant wave of his hand. “If they’re so good, let’s hear them then.”

A shadow crossed over Robin’s face and she looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[boydepartment]

for real? for real. - nishimura riki x gn! reader

this is a pt. 2 from a drabble i posted a few days ago :) i had ppl in the comments ask for a pt 2 and the comments made me giggle. here is their tags and thank you for enjoying my content ❤️@keiipopped @kxppachu @sugariricookies @flaminghotyourmom - masterlist - wc- 200-300

holiday season was coming up, which meant the bakery was busy and you were stacked with hours. you didn’t have to deal with the public much as your manager kept you decorating. it was tense in the work place and it didn’t help that you haven’t spoken to riki since the freezer incident.

your manager told you to pick up pace and you nodded, running back and forth for waiting orders. tiered cakes. special frosted cakes. and more.

while everyone was busy working there was a yelp in the back and you called out.

“are you alright?!” you yelled out, your manager, jihyo, was up front helping the girls in the front counter.

“um…” one of the other frosters responded, it was taki. your brows furrowed and you walked over.

your eyes widening when you saw riki holding his hand on his white apron that was now stained red.

“riki cut his hand open! i don’t know what to do!”

it was sunday so the only real adult here was jihyo, baker bahng had weekends off.

your jaw fell to the floor and you walked over to him, you almost vomited when you saw his hand.

“it’s fine i’ll just wrap it up and continue fro-“

“GROSS DUDE NO…” taki yelled and shoved him, “go to the hospital! what if you bleed in the frosting! we’d get shut down! we don’t serve vampires! we can’t shut down i need this job!”

you felt nauseous, “i think i’m going to throw up..” you mumbled and got the first aid kit quick. you were quickly bandaging riki up. the moment quiet, well as quiet as it could be with taki freaking out. riki just kept watching you, a soft look on his features. jihyo came to the back and saw riki and her eyes widened, “good lord what happened?!”

“um…” riki looked awkward and looked at her. jihyo immediately sent him to have his sister pick him up and take him to the doctor. he could pick up his car later.

and so for the rest of the day riki was absent until closing when he came to pick up his bags and car. he walked into the bakery and saw you cleaning your station.

“busy?”

you looked up at him, your heart jumped you were worried and you missed him, “fuck are you alright?” you walked up to him and looked at his hand. he got new bandages and they pretty much just stitched him up.

“i’m okay… do you have a ride home?” he asked, you shook your head no, “you do now. we need to talk anyways.”

you felt your breath hitch and you became nervous, so you clocked out and the next thing you knew, you were in his car.

“can you even drive?” you asked softly, he looked at you, the lights from the dashboard illuminating his face, he had a small smirk as he turned around to back up the car.

“yeah i can drive. my hand is fine..” he murmured and then started to drive

“don’t you need my address?” you asked.

“after food. i’m hungry and i assume you haven’t eaten in awhile?” he side eyed you, you nodded.

“it was too busy.” you mumbled shyly. he nodded and took you guys to a drive through. he paid for your food and he parked in the back of the parking lot.

“so i wanted to talk to you because we went from arguing, to that moment in the freezer, to not speaking at all..” riki said and sipped his strawberry milkshake. you sipped your milkshake and nodded.

“i know and im sorry…” you mumbled and didn’t look at him. riki sighed and took a bite of his fries.

“i should apologize i think i made it weird..” he spoke and took a deep breath.

you looked at him now and immediately disagreed, “no! i’m awkward and weird and i’m shy an-“

riki started to laugh and he looked at you, his laugh was pretty sounding, “you’re so cute.”

you stopped talking and your jaw dropped.

his eyes tired and he ran a hand through his hair, “y/n, i like you. a lot. and i hope it’s not weird.”

your face was pink and you thanked god it was dark in the car, “you actually like me?”

riki started to laugh again, “y/n! yes! obviously!”

you looked at him, “like for real?”

the boy looked at you funny and put his hand on your cheek, leaning in, his eyes dancing across your features and they landed on your lips, “for real…”

your eyes looked at him, you wanted to kiss him so badly.

“can i kiss you..?” he asked quietly, almost scared you’ll say no.

you nodded and he smiled as he leaned in to kiss you.

when his lips met yours a million sparks went off and your hands went to his shoulders as he leaned into the center console to kiss you. he tasted like strawberry milkshake

a few seconds later he parted, “you’re my favorite by the way.”

you looked at him, “favorite what?” your smile was present.

“favorite everything. coworker, person, partner…?” he questioned

“partner.” you reassured your smile never faltering with him.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What is the Best Way for YOU to Manifest?

I have been receiving so many notes from yall and there are so many new followers!!! thank you all so much for the love and the affirmation! I really enjoy doing this and it helps me stay in a healthy mindset so I'm glad I can assist others while assisting myself.

In today's reading I am using Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot, The Healing Waters Oracle, and The Starseed Oracle. Take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new perspectives!

Donate to my CashApp

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PILE ONE

Astrology: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Vibes: Blue, navy, black, skulls, ice, Hermes, ocean, coast-line, shark teeth, crystal jewelry, castles, olive tree, music, cats, fish, soda, marine life in general, crying, spicy food, hot meal, alternative fashion

Song: Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears

Cards: The Artist, 7 of Cups, Page of Cups, The Ripple Effect, Perspective

Heyooo pile one! Welcome to your reading. The best way yall can manifest is by projecting it out of you. This can be through making art of some kind or just looking at art of what it is that you desire. Either way all you need is to see the desire outside of yourself and it will eventually find its way to you. I see you are quite protective of your desires and it is difficult for you to choose which one you want to manifest most because you want them all so much. You can have them all if you like. You need to admire what you want to manifest. Imagine how you would feel seeing whatever it is in your hands. If it is an object imagine what the texture of it would feel like. What does it look like? Imagine its color. If it is an experience that you wish to manifest imagine how it would feel to experience it. What would your senses take in when you experience it? You know intuitively what it is you want without having it. Doesn't it make sense you would intuitively know what it would be like? The clearer the vision you have, the quicker it will manifest into existence. Just remember anything you wish to manifest is already yours. It has your name written on its spiritual frequency. You just gotta match the frequency. Don't worry about how it will happen. Don't worry about the plan. The universe already knows how it will get to you. You don't have to worry about that part. The details are already taken care of, my dude. Trust the universe.

PILE TWO

Astrology: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Vibes: Green, yellow, white, wild-flowers, children laughing, church bells, lions, eagles, bulls, peanut butter, being barefooted, 222, snakes, curry, ribbons

Song: What I've Got by Sublime

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, 6 of Cups, 2 of Swords, King Tide, Breath of the Cosmos

Hi, pile 2! The best way for you to manifest is through verbal expression. I see many entities watching over you. They wait patiently for you to ask for what you desire. They listen closely to what you truly want. When you ask it must be backed by the desire of your inner child. If it does not align with your inner child's desires the entities might not hear you. The universe wants to cradle your inner child. It coos at them waiting for them to speak. Let your inner baby ask for what it wants. Let them speak. It is common for inner children to be silenced by the world so this might take some convincing. Be patient with them and they will tell your guides everything you truly desire and I swear it'll be dropped in your lap or by your doorstep in no time at all. You must trust your younger self to know what is right. You must trust the universe to deliver it to you. Both of them want you to experience abundance and plenty. Both of them want you to receive the fullness of life. Speak aloud what your younger self wants. Speak it with confidence in the effect it will have on your experience. It must be genuine. Whatever you want is already yours once it is spoken.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Vibes: Purple, forest green, pink, dogs, umbrellas, door knocker, hibiscus, olives, grapes, plums, violets, pomegranate, venus, 2222, incense smoke, candles, amethyst, cannabis, kayaking, hiking, Saturn

Song: Amethyst by Janine the Machine

Cards: The Fool, The Empress, The Well, Ilse of Avalon, You're Not For Everyone

Pile three, welcome to your reading! The best way for you to manifest is through your actions. I feel how hard you work in my body through the cards. You are far too resilient cus gotdamn your back hurts. Hard work is a way to manifest yes but what might work better for you is to enjoy yourself. By working hard all the time you invite in more work to do. Your actions display your manifestations. If you desire rest and relaxation (which i think you do) then meditation might help you. Do what you enjoy doing. Your physical reality with mirror your mind. Allow your mind to take a break. Embrace what you have wanted to do for a while. I know you have been trying so hard to get the manifestations you desire so deeply. I know those 60 to 80 hour work weeks have been hard on your mind and body. Pamper yourself a little bit. Invite more softenest in. Be willing to receive. Leap into bed, turn on your favorite show, and indulge a little in your favorite snack. Heal your soul. The cards also tell me you are a bit weird and quirky but you hide that a lot. It will help your manifestations come faster if you just embrace your weirdness. Lean into your quirkiness. I feel you are already really connected to Source and Source is where all that we need/desire comes from. You just gotta tap back into that energy again. Wow, okay I think your guides have been telling you to rest for a while. I am hearing them LOUD and CLEAR. They are a little frustrated with you not listening to them. You are pretty stubborn huh? I see you might have hurt yourself at work recently. That was an invitation to rest. Take the invitation, please. I see that if you don't take the invitation now you might be forced to later.

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Vibes: Orange, red, sky blue, lavender, holding hands, hand-shakes, raining when the sun is out, rainbows, martini, fajitas, goblets, queer pride, 1111, throat chakra, oroborous, lotus flower

Song: Dracula from Houston by Butthole Surfers

Cards: The Magician, The Lovers, Ace of Cups, Let It Rain, Water Your Garden

Hey there, pile 4! Welcome to your reading, my friend. The best way you manifest is through communication. It's a bit more specific than that. Specifically when you're communicating in ways that are also taking care of yourself. Some examples of this are journaling, venting to a friend, talking with your lover, setting a boundary or writing letters to a pen pal. When you are verbalizing your desires to your friends be sure you are communicating with those you trust. I also see saying daily affirmations in the mirror would work as well. Which sometimes looks very ritualistic and other times it's you singing a song that makes you feel really positive about yourself in the mirror. Hype yourself up and that is a way to manifest as well. Anything with language involved while you are nourishing your body. I do see it might be difficult for you to gather your thoughts on your own so I do think it would be a bit easier to speak to a trusted advisor. Your words have power. Your language has power. The things that slip from your mouth are magic. Be very intentional about what you say, my dear.

[rjcolette]

college au! satoru gojo x reader x suguru geto

warnings:

smut

alcohol usage

mention of marijuana

threesome (they all want each other lol)

sub! satoru gojo

dom! suguru geto

switch! reader

masochism (satoru gojo)

sadism (suguru geto)

vibrating tongue/cock piercing

mommy kink (satoru gojo)

daddy kink (suguru geto)

praise kink (both)

degradation/humiliation kink (both)

size kink (both)

double penetration (both)

edging (both)

begging (both)

biting (both)

hair pulling (both)

breeding kink (satoru gojo)

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

he was the biggest fucking jerk you had probably ever met in your entire life. satoru gojo, classic fraternity dude stereotype with far too many bodies under his belt (no pun intended) and a cocky ass smirk that made you want to throttle your fist into his perfect, infuriatingly handsome face. you saw him way too often, more often than you should, and it felt like the universe was purposefully sticking its foot up your ass as some sort of sick joke to piss you off.

what you didn’t understand about his constant reoccurring presence is that you were just an average uni student — you made decent grades, mostly a’s and b’s with one c in your stats class (that course alone made you want to drop out and take your bitchass to mcdonalds to work [it didn’t sound so bad now that you considered it; better than doing math]), you went to class, most days, since you had a bad habit of skipping when you were tired, and you weren’t involved in any kind of fraternity or sorority at your university.

so why was he always around? you squinted your eyes, which were burning from your ebony tight liner and perfect black wing (which took you multiple tries to get just right), and your brows furrowed as your lip curled into a faint snarl. red, blue, and green hues of flashing party lights scalded your retinas, not making it much easier on your abused irises, as you beheld the white haired man laughing obnoxiously across the room. drunken and sleazy young men and women danced and chatted loudly amongst the booming music (you weren’t really paying attention to the annoying beat [perhaps it was the weeknd, or something like that…? you don’t know]) and obscured your vision in a huge mass of blurred red and green. you couldn’t identify any of the students here aside from satoru, and his best friend suguru geto, who he roared in very audible laughter across the room with, slinging an arm over his broad shoulders.

“everything okay, y/n?!” hollered your best friend, f/n, from beside you. the question was spoken with half-concern, as she was so elated by her drunken state with a tall bottle of pink whitney in her grip a giggle escaped her lips once she uttered it. you scoffed quietly, so silently she undoubtedly did not catch it, and you shook your head to respond.

“satoru gojo is over there. again,” you scowled, whipping your head around to scrutinize f/n. she only smiled sleazily, her dark eyes half-lidded and amused, albeit slightly worried. you didn’t care enough to wonder if she was cross-faded, but you did find yourself wondering where she got weed if she was because, frankly, you wouldn’t care for a hit right about now either. “why am i always fucking running into that guy?” you jabbed a finger back.

she shrugged, grinning and slinging a hand over your shoulder and pulling you to her. she stumbled weakly onto your side, unable to balance herself properly. she snickered. “ah. that white haired motherfucker your always yappin about? we do see him a lot, don’t we?”

you and f/n were avid frat party attendees, despite either of you not being involved in any kind of frat yourself. she always slept around on fridays like these, and usually, she’d disappear at some point at the party to go fuck a guy or girl and you wouldn’t see her again until the morning back at your dorm. whatever. she was your best friend and roommate and you cared deeply for her, but she was also an adult who could handle her own shit. you weren’t her babysitter.

“yeah. we,” you said dryly, curling your lip. “it’s more my fault. i think i’m cursed.” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“how so?!” she shouted over the loud r&b music. she didn’t necessarily need to shout, as she was close enough to your face you could smell the alcohol on her breath. you could count each perfect tooth she had (she recently got her braces off she had had since middle school [her teeth were really fucked up; she showed you old pictures]) and they glistened in the flashing led lights of the stuffy, stifling mass of party people surrounding the two of you. you presumed her intoxication also prevented her from properly comprehending her volume either, so you cast aside your irritation for a moment to reply.

“it’s me who always fucking sees him,” you said. you side-eyed satoru, now stumbling onto suguru geto as he sang along to the song that was playing. you blinked and and suddenly could not look away. “…it bothers me, because he looks so damn familiar. i just can’t put my finger on it.”

“maybe you met him in a past life! ha!” she howled in hilarity. she would think a flamingo with a thong on was funny right now. you liked her a lot more when she was sober.

“maybe,” you entertained her. your head was hurting, and you sighed in frustration as a sharp pang went through your brain. now your mood was soured, seeing satoru now of all times. you had just recently failed an exam in stats and you were looking to take the edge off with your routine frat party with f/n, and just as you had started to loosen up and relax and convince yourself you’d get your grade up with the next dumbass exam, you spotted him. walking to class, eating at local restaurants, shopping, the gym, fuck, he was in half of your classes — the universe thought this was all some sort of big ass joke, didn’t it? forcing you to always run into satoru with no explanation as to why… no reasoning for why he was also so fucking familiar to you.

and every time you would see him, you’d stare in a mixture of complicated emotions — awe, envy, disgust, confusion, and a sort of distant contemplation. you were in awe by his beauty every time, of course, because he was uncomfortably gorgeous, envy because he was so utterly confident in himself it made your stomach lurch with jealousy and desire, disgust because his perfection was incredibly revolting, and confusion and distant contemplation for obvious reasons — why did you always see him? why did you recognize him? and why… just at that moment, satoru came down from his laughing high, his arms still holding onto suguru but slipping, and his heavenly blue irises met your own from across the crowded, stuffy room, and grinned, raising his slim brows… why did he always look at you like he knew what you were thinking?

“something wrong?” mumbled f/n with a slur, sloshing her pink whitney around as she stumbled forward, accidentally tripping over someone’s foot (or was it somebody’s clothes? perhaps a discarded red solo cup? you didn’t know, or give a shit). “you look-“ she began to giggle, and you scoffed very audibly this time and practically snatched the pink whitney bottle out of her hand and brought it to your dry lips. you winced as you chugged about a quarter of the bottle and prayed it would kick in fast before you did this. “y/n?!” her laughter faded.

“i’m gonna fucking talk to him,” you declared in determination. “see what his fucking deal is. i’m so done, f/n.” you shook your head, your brows furrowing. you never broke eye contact with satoru, who, when seeing you chug your bottle, only licked his perfect plump lips and smiled coyly. “so. done.”

you shoved the bottle back in her grip and f/n stumbled back, stammering. you ignored her. she’d probably run off and get bored any time now to go fuck somebody. good. a little sex never hurt anybody.

you were in your sophomore year of college and this man had haunted your thoughts every single day of every single damn semester since you started attending this university, and you had refused to speak a word to him that entire time. you were an adult, sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re very mature, especially when it comes to men. let’s say you have a a sort of superiority complex when it comes to guys, particularly guys like satoru gojo. but gojo was different — he was more infuriating than your average frat cuck.

“hey!” you shouted over the music, jabbing your finger into satoru’s flat chest. he wore a plain black tee and jeans that hugged his ass so nicely, and his pecs were visible through his thin shirt. his arm flexed as he brought his cup to his lips, taking a sip as he quirked a brow at your intrusion, his hair falling in loose waves over his beautiful eyes. “the fuck is your deal, pretty boy?” he smirked into his cup and lowered it, clearly caught off guard. after a millisecond when he did not reply, only grinned cockily (the bastard), you added, “huh?!”

“satoruuuuu,” a young woman in skimpy clothes whined from beside him, tugging on his shirt. you caught suguru sneak an annoyed glance at her, as if he was incredibly irritated at her intrusion between you and satoru. you narrowed your slim eyes. what the hell did he know..? gojo turned around himself to address the girl, who was trying to coax satoru to come dance with her and her other two girlfriends, all dressed like fucking whores. satoru spoke sultry and sweet to the women, declining them but also charming them with empty promises. to be expected from a man like him; he can’t stand women being disappointed in him or unattracted to him. mommy issues, you determined.

you took that moment to scrutinize geto as satoru was distracted. his eyes were thin and devilish, irises dark and sparkling under the flashing lights. his lips were thinner than satorus, his nose roman-shaped with prominent cheekbones and a slim, masculine face. satoru was more feminine-looking than him in a appearance, both in body and face, while suguru had broader shoulders and a thicker build. they seemed about the same height, however.

so this was satoru gojo’s best friend, suguru geto. he was undeniably gorgeous. he leaked masculinity and dominance, certainly the more strong and silent type. you saw satoru at the gym a lot when you were trying to get your steps in on the treadmill (you were deeply afraid of the freshman fifteen, even as a fucking sophomore), but you saw this guy even more. he loved the gym, and whenever you saw suguru there, he had on a pair of noise cancelling black headphones on lifting weights heavier than your entire body with one arm and a concentrated countenance — you knew his headphones were noise-cancelling because you had made the grave mistake of trying to speak to suguru once your freshman year in the gym to ask were the restrooms were located, and he simply stared ahead of him with an unreadable expression. you flushed, stood there for a moment, and then angrily walked off, muttering curses to yourself and towards suguru.

other than that, you didn’t mind him much. there was a sort of animosity you held towards him because of satoru in association, but other than that he was tolerable. you had spoken to him a few times, much more than you ever had to satoru, at the gym and in stats, which you had with him, and he was pretty chill. sometimes you’d catch yourself glaring at him from across the room and feel bad, but you couldn’t help it.

suguru smiled at you as gojo was turned away and looked you up and down. your hands were now planted firmly on your hips, and you suddenly felt very self-conscious as suguru scrutinized your figure. you were slim and slightly toned from the gym, and you were currently wearing a purple crop top and low-rise jeans. your hair was down and your usual makeup was done, which was dark and sultry (how you liked it), enchanting your eyes and lips. no matter how uncomfortably aware of yourself you wet becoming, you refused to show it. you had to surpass suguru and satoru’s unwavering frat-boy confidence with diligence and certainty, and this goal was reflected by the raising of your chin and narrowing of your eyes.

“you got a problem too, suguru geto?” you spat. you didn’t really mean it entirely. you actually somewhat admired suguru, but you felt determined to intimidate the both of them.

at this point the slutty girls bothering satoru had ran off giggling over some dumb shit, you were sure, and satoru had turned his attention back to you.

“well well well, what do we have here?” muttered satoru with a smirk, but suguru ignored him and instead regarded you with utmost lust and interest.

suguru’s eyes glimmered in amusement, his right arm relaxed by his side and his left on the small of satoru’s back as satoru leaned on his shoulders, his right arm slung lazily and drunkenly over his best friend. they had to have some sort of strange bromance going on, seeing how comfortable they were touching each other like that.

“i don’t,” replied suguru, and then he added casually, “i’ve actually been wanting to see you naked for a while.” he licked his lips. “you down?”

you almost choked on your own saliva. satoru broke out into obnoxious laughter beside him, but you were certain he was completely and utterly serious. your eyes were wide and your face flushed, and any confidence you were emitting previously had been dissipated in just a moment. you coughed violently and once finished with your fit, you gripped your right arm so tightly your knuckles turned white, and your hand slid down your mouth to speak.

“what the hell did you just say to me..?”

“you heard him,” grinned satoru. he titled his head, and it felt like his dumbass smirk was always getting bigger and bigger. it infuriated you how confident he always acted, and it perplexed you how it was even possible to be so certain of oneself. all of your conflicting emotions stupefied you as you stood dumbly before them, both of the cocky men towering over you with leaking with drunken lust and desire. the mood had shifted so suddenly you felt you were going to be sick. satoru slid his arm off of suguru slowly, and leaned towards you and tucked a strand of disheveled hair behind your ear. he was suddenly so close you could smell his prominent aroma — fresh laundry, mint, and, of course, alcohol, more particularly jack daniels. you scrunched your nose, catching the same scent from suguru as his dark navy long sleeve shirt caught the breeze of the ac behind him, jack daniels, but suguru himself had a more musky cologne, like foggy woods in the autumn season. jack daniels, you scoffed internally, your face still flushed from satoru’s close proximity and suguru’s previous confession — for frat boys, they were incredibly refined, the cream of the crop, you suppose.

catching yourself admiring the two, you scolded yourself in your head. what were you thinking?! these men were your enemies! they were both dicks. both of them. suguru geto was a little less insufferable, but still irritating nonetheless. you shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

but your heart couldn’t help but race as satoru’s warm minty breath tickled your earlobe as he spoke, and suddenly you were picturing them both naked, “we’ve had our eyes on you for a while, y/n. you’re the hottest chick that goes here, and fuck, you look sexy on that stairmaster in the gym. who would’ve guessed a beautiful and refined woman such as yourself would have such a slutty, plump, round fucking ass?”

your breath hitched, your body so hot you thought you would implode. you were so incredibly aware of all of the people yelling and singing and laughing around you, dancing and screaming in delight as people made out and greedily chugged alcohol out of their red cups all around you. the bass of the loud r&b music practically shook your bones, and the sensation of the thundering music and suguru and satoru’s intoxicating drunken scents made your head swim and your core throb. it pissed you off, the way you were suddenly feeling, but you were only a woman.

“how do you know me..?” you said breathlessly, roughly grabbing satoru’s waist with a quivering hand, reaching to angrily shove him off, but finding yourself unable to do so once you actually made physical contact with him. fuck, his scent was so alluring you couldn’t bring yourself to walk away right now if you could. and- you glanced up for just a moment- the way suguru was eyeing you like a starved wolf made your pussy clench around absolutely nothing. how long had it been since you had sex? you felt equal desire towards the two men and disgust towards your own selfish needs. “how…” you began, faltering for a moment, “..how do i.. know you? where have i fucking met you before..?”

“how could i forget my first..?” breathed gojo, his hand snaking down your back to harshly grip your ass, pulling you even closer to him, if humanely possible. suddenly, you were flush against satoru’s broad, flat chest, and you blinked and felt a weight pressing you from behind. your eyes widened. suguru. suguru geto was standing behind you, his huge erection pressing into the space between your asscheeks, the same once gojo was fondling with his hands. suguru buried his nose into the crook of your neck on the side opposite of satoru, inhaling your vanilla and plum perfume so deeply it’s as if he thought you’d disappear from him any moment.

“your..first..?” you questioned in shock, and then suddenly it hit you. in high school, junior year, you attended a halloween party thrown by one of your closest friends on the volleyball team, a senior, when her parents were out of town. you had snuck out to attend with your cousin (who you ended up not even staying with the entire time) and then you got super fucking drunk and were led off by an upperclassman boy on the basketball team. you don’t remember it clearly, just that it was when you lost your virginity in a slutty vampire costume (which you had no business wearing at seventeen, but you digress).

that was him? the revelation hit you like a truck. how could you not remember satoru from high school..? especially considering how otherworldly his beauty is. i mean, anyone would remember a face and personality like his, especially if he took your virginity. but you never would have guess you also took his that night. fuck… you were so drunk you hadn’t even remembered any of it until now.

“it was you..” you exhaled in remembrance, and your heart throbbed with so many conflicting emotions. you almost felt fond of him because of what he had reminded you of, but your previous dislike you had harbored of him since the beginning of university still lingered. you didn’t understand your feelings at all, and even less what was happening in the present moment. all you know is that you felt dizzy and incredibly drunk, and you don’t even know if you entirely regret chugging f/n’s bottle of pink whitney because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have ever been in the position you are right now — i mean, it was every young woman’s dream. sandwiched between two incredibly handsome, tall, sexy mean who craved you like you were the last woman alive on earth.

“mhm..” mumbled suguru in your other ear. you almost whined from the tingles that went down your spine. satoru nibbled on your earlobe slowly as suguru spoke, and you felt warmth pooling in your undergarment. “..you’re all satoru talks about. it’s honestly intriguing, how good he said you were, how tight… and now i want a taste. best friends should share, after all… right satoru..?”

“yes, they should,” smirked satoru in lust against your neck, which he had moved his plump lips to to leave messy wet butterfly kisses all the way down to your bare collarbones. your blood slammed against our veins in desire as the men touched you, and your entire body was on fire. “…let’s see if that pussy is still as fucking tight as it was back then, shall we..?”

you yelped as suguru roughly flipped you around and smacked your ass, hard, effortlessly hoisting your body up by your hips and throwing you lazily over his shoulder, knocking the breath out of your lungs for a moment. you gasped for air, partially from his actions and partially from the shock from what both satoru gojo and suguru geto had confessed to you, and suguru slapped your ass a second time and began to carry you through the mass of people partying all around you towards the stairs.

“h-hey!” you stammered in surprise, your face so hot you could fry an egg on it. “put me down!! what the fuck..?!”

before you knew it, you had made it to the top of the stairs of the frat house and had begun to be carried to the end of the hallway. the booming music and cacophony of laughter and talking from downstairs was significantly quieter up here as suguru took you into a room, which gojo opened the door to. you couldn’t see much but the floor over his shoulder, and everything was a messy blur around you both from your position and your drunkenness. satoru shut the door behind you and suguru and locked it. the bass of the music faintly shook the walls around you. the room was dark until satoru turned the lights on to a red led. of course. you had a feeling of what was about to happen.

suguru threw you down on the bed and practically ripped off his shirt, and you were still trying to gather yourself before you could ogle his perfectly sculpted and toned chest. his pants clung loosely to his hipbones, and his ebony hair, which was previously thrown into an attractive messy man bun, was now falling loosely over his thick shoulders, slightly dampened from sweat. his tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes fell over your form, scrambling back to the headboard of the king sized bed, looking around frantically.

this must be satoru’s room. he had silk navy blue sheets, and a star wars poster on the wall, which was almost cute if you weren’t so caught up in the moment. he had a gaming pc on his university-owned desk and messy homework papers scattered everywhere on top of the keyboard. he also had a shiny red electric guitar with a spiky, slim shape propped up on a guitar stand in the corner of the room, and you even noticed some luxury items, like bags and shoes and furniture, around the room as well. so satoru was rich and spoiled. you could have guessed that.

suguru caught you eyeballing the guitar as satoru walked up to be by his side, also taking his short-sleeve shirt off. you immediately looked away from the guitar and locked eyes with suguru, whole-heartedly aware of satoru gojo undressed beside him and refusing to let yourself look at him. despite your childlike fondness towards him for being your first back in high school, you still strongly disliked him for every that you knew he was — cocky, beautiful, spoiled, full of himself, and incredibly good in bed, from what you can recall.

“it’s mine. not satoru’s,” suguru says lowly, his voice grumbling in his chest as if hoping to gain your favor over satoru. so he was that type of guy, huh. the jealous, possessive type. well, you suppose you didn’t mind. you still liked him more than you did gojo, but maybe you were just trying to tell yourself that.

you swallowed dryly, accidentally catching a glimpse of satoru unbuckling his belt and you clenched your thighs, your face a flaming rouge. what was even going on right now? you were so fucking drunk. you couldn’t even tell somebody what day it was if you were asked. but at least you knew satoru and suguru were as well. you knew you weren’t being rational. you could easily get up, curse them both and even give one (probably gojo) a solid smack across the cheek for even trying anything with you, but you did none of those things. fuck, you were so wet just by the sounds of satoru and suguru’s voices and scents, and even more so by the fact that they’re beginning to undress and reveal their infuriatingly perfectly sculpted chests. you pictured their cocks and their individual sizes in your heads prematurely… satoru’s was probably thinner with a lighter hue to the tip, suguru’s thick with girth and darker in shade.

what you didn’t expect, however, was for suguru to unbuckle his pants and pull out a cock with a black piercing at the tip. you gaped at him with both awe and desire. i mean, he always had those huge black gauges in his earlobes, so it shouldn’t be entirely shocking other places were pierced too, but you definitely didn’t expect his…

“you like it?” he said with a smile, his brows raising in amusement. then, he stuck his tongue out, and by the stars above, it had a matching black piercing as well. you stifled a gasp when he said his next words. “they both vibrate. and guess who has the controls..?”

your eyes were wide with shock as you slowly latched your gaze onto satoru, now completely nude as he tilted his head with a wink with his arm outstretched. he placed a hand on the bed as if crawling towards you, shoving the screen of his phone in your face to reveal a sort of remote with a scale on it. you shuddered.

“you want it, don’t you.??” satoru whispered in lust as he lowered the phone and placed his hands on your cold waist, his hands warm and welcoming there. he hooked in slender fingers under the hem and slid off your top, and you allowed him. “you want that fat cock inside that tight, wet little pussy of yours, don’t you y/n..?” he grinned, his breaths falling against your collarbones quickly as he unbuttoned your jeans. suguru geto had moved behind you to unhook your lacy black bra, and you were awestruck and incredibly flustered, willing to let it all happen as you processed their touch and words. you felt your nipples perk against the cool air of satoru’s room as suguru threw your bra aside, and your pussy clenched around nothing when satoru aggressively yanked your jeans and panties down simultaneously down to your thighs. he chuckled lowly on your collarbone, licking his hot tongue from your clavicle your round, plump tit. suguru must have removed your shoes and the rest of your clothes while you were distracted with gojo, for you were now completely nude. “where’s that confidence from before now, mommy..? hmmm..?? mmph..” he moaned as plump pink lips caught your tit in his mouth. you let out a shaky exhale and threw your head back in pleasure as satoru sucked and swirled his tongue around your nipple, nibbling on the bud as suguru crawled over you on the bed, and you could feel the vibrations of the faint music downstairs shaking your bones as the pleasure of both of the men’s touches shook you to your core. you were so fucking wet, so wet you could hardly speak to retort to any of satoru gojo’s teases.

suguru placed his hand on your core, forcing you down flat against the navy blue silken sheets of the bed with your head propped up on the fluffy pillows behind you. you didn’t fight it, only let the immense pleasure occur: “good fucking girl, stay still for us now, okay?” suguru growled, his voice vibrating against your bare wet pussy when he lowered his head to it, and you could feel his long black tresses brushing and tickling against your sensitive thighs.

you heard satoru blindly tap and drag the screen of his phone as he continued to suck and fondle your tits, and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut and bit back a scream of immense ecstasy as suguru’s warm tongue enveloped your swollen clit, the cool metal of his piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure so intense through you core it was painful. but you reveled in the sensation — hell, you welcomed it with open arms. the more the men fawned over you and caressed you, so conjointly determined to deliver you the utmost pleasure and worship, the more your own confidence and awareness returned back to you, so much so you were willing to speak and engage with them.

“fuuuuck, don’t stop!” you whisper-shouted as suguru lapped you up like he hadn’t eaten in days, like he was starved, like your pussy was drenched in some sort of divine, heavenly nectar that he simply could not get enough of. satoru was the same, though he shivered and whined in desire as his hands explored your body, as if overjoyed to finally have you in his clutches. the more you paid attention to both of the men’s individual behaviors, the more you became aware of how to play this game. to play with them. remember that superiority complex i mentioned earlier? yeah. it was all coming back now.

“nobody down there can he…- hear you, baby,” suguru panted, his lips smacking wetly as he lifted his chin to speak against your bare pussy. his chin and the area around his mouth glistened with sweat and slick. “let it out, you fuckin.. you fuckin, ngh, slut. let those fuckers all he.. hear you scream, let daddy hear his pretty girl, ngh, scream in pleasure…”

and you did when those damn vibrations met with your clit once more, your thighs clenching and unclenching around suguru’s head as you struggling to keep up with his licks and swirls. he inserted two of his thick fingers into your pussy, allowing you no time to stretch out as he pumped your juices in and out of you mercilessly. satoru had moved to your neck, tasting the sweet saltiness of your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat, as he sucked and bit down to leave marks all over your body. he wanted to ensure everyone in his frat knew who you belonged to — he and suguru geto, no one else. you didn’t even know it, but fuck, you were a catch. many of the other boys in gojo’s fraternity had noticed you, you had the perfect fucking curves and body, after all, and you were incredibly beautiful, like some sort of supermodel, so of course his frat brothers lusted over you. you and your best friend (her name was f/n, or something..? gojo thought) went out a lot, to study, eat, party, and you caught the attention of more men than you ever would have thought you did yourself. and it made satoru gojo unspeakably envious.

you were his. you were his from the moment you took each others virginity at that halloween party your junior and his senior year, you were his the moment you committed to going to the same university as him, and the only man he was willing to share you with was the man eating your pathetic little pussy out as we speak. he would make sure the marks on your neck reflected that, that your beaten, weakened little pussy reflected that.

he squeezed your perfect plump tits in desire as he left yet another hickey on your smooth, doll-like skin, relishing in the melody of your cries of pleasure and need. you were all he ever wanted since he was just a teenager, and here you were now, his to consume and have. fuck, he wanted you to dominate him, wanted you to leave him a blubbering, sloppy mess beneath you as you rode him and pumped his cock dry with no mercy.

“fuck, you’re amazing,” gojo praised in a whimper as you wailed in the shock of pain and pleasure of him biting so harshly on your neck he could draw blood. satoru could be rough when he wanted to be when having sex, but not like suguru. suguru geto was the definition of a dom, and fuck, he was sadistic. he loved to see women quivering beneath him in pain as he edged them closer and closer to their release, just to never give it to them until the very, very end.

satoru gojo was the opposite. to hide the embarrassment of it all, when he was with women sexually, he put on a front that he was like geto, dominant, confident, and masculine. but he truly wasn’t into all that. he couldn’t tell you how many times he touched himself, pumping his wet, soaked length with his own right hand pretending it was your pussy, pretending you were digging your long black nails into his skin, leaving scratches and scars all over his body, smacking his face, wrapping your delicate, dainty hands around his neck, squeezing so hard he’d pass out as he came inside you… he was undeniably a masochist, and he wanted nothing more than to be used and beaten by you.

it all felt so incredible. you felt so dirty and sinful, but fuck you couldn’t get enough — neither could satoru or suguru. satoru gojo was so weak for you. you were the only woman he could ever submit to.

“f-fuck..! i-i’m gonna…!” you gasped, your chest rising and falling rapidly as both of the men touched you. it was otherworldly, this feeling. it had been so long since you had been with a man, and you had never been with two at once. you were already reaching your release and it had hardly been five minutes. suguru tutted in displeasure and satoru, sensing this, paused the remote control, stopping the vibrations of suguru’s tongue piercing. suguru geto himself, additionally, had stopped pleasuring you just as your eyes were lolling back to your head and you were reaching your high. satoru removed his lips from your nipple with a plop, sliding his hand down your waist before his touch was gone completely. you whined as the feeling of both of them close to you was ripped away.

your pleasure being stolen from you was like a slap in the face, and you groaned, covering your eyes for a moment as you panted trying to recollect yourself. “ngh!.. wh.. what the.. what the hell?!” you cried.

“get on top.. of satoru,” suguru commanded, out of breath as he licked your lips, relishing in the taste of your sweet juices. “let’s see how good you ride, baby girl.” you gasped at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying, and your eyes slowly made their way over to satoru, who was laying down on the opposite side of the mattress, his elbows propping his body up as his chest heaved in desire. his white hair fell in messy clumps over his mesmerizing eyes, which were slightly dulled by the red lights enveloping the room. “now. be a good fucking slut for daddy, will you?” he smirked, finally beginning to catch his breath. his teeth caught his bottom lip in lust as he shamelessly soaked in every inch, crevice, and curve of your flawless body. he acknowledged your surprise and bewilderment in his next words: “i wanna see my pretty little slut ride my best friend and leave him a moaning, crying mess. is that a fucking crime?” then, geto climbed on top of your body laying flat against the bed and roughly manhandled you, his left hand reaching to grip your hair harshly and his right hand squishing your cheeks together as you stared up at him with wide eyes. you tried to stammer out a word, but he cut you off: “hm? what’s the matter, y/n…? you were so confident earlier when you jabbed your finger into satoru’s chest and cursed at him. you think your so fucking tough…?” he grunted and in a second, he grabbed you by your shoulders so roughly you’re certain he would leave bruises and flipped you around so that your ass was in the air. you whined in shock as raised his hand to smack your ass with all his strength. you screamed into the pillow, gripping the sheets as tears leaked from your eyes, and you’re sure your makeup was now ruined from your tears and sweat. you cried as your ass burned and stung from the impact, and your body convulsed as electric shocks of pain went up your spine. but, contrarily, your stomach swam with a hoard of butterflies, your heart beating rapidly and your face flushed in desire and pleasure. you loved it. you loved being treated like this, especially by a man as delectably handsome and gorgeous as suguru geto, just as much as you would love to ride satoru gojo until he came so hard inside you his seed leaked all over your thighs. you’d love to see satoru submit under you, you’d love to see him suffer for how much he has consumed your thoughts these past few years… but for some reason, you couldn’t speak, to enticed by the sensations suguru was giving you to move on to the next step. you were speechless.

“what happened to that dirty slutty little mouth of yours you had earlier, hm?” suguru taunted, pressing his cock in the crevice of your ass as he gripped your hips so hard it made you flinch roughly in pain from how intense his grip was. “not so vocal now, are we? c’mon, baby… i wanna see satoru squirm in pleasure as you milk every drop from his throbbing fucking cock. i wanna see that tight little pussy squeeze him so fucking tight he forgets how to think and breath, i wanna see you fuck him so good he forgets his own fucking name… you think you can do that for daddy, hm, baby? you think you can be a good girl and make satoru cum for me?” you let out a muffled scream of agony into the pillow as suguru raised his hand and smacked your ass hard again, and finally you managed to speak.

“y-yes!” you cried and moaned all at once, trying to get up. “yes..!” you repeated in desire, managing to get your head up off the pillow as you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth, black, mascara-filled tears streaming down your cheeks and staining them. you felt satoru’s watchful eyes on you the entire time, his hand stroking his wet length, pleasuring himself at the sight of your sweaty, shining naked body, your tears and your cries of pain and pleasure.

but suguru wasn’t having it. he growled and grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you back into the pillow, squishing your face against the surface of the bed. he dug his fingers even harder into your asscheek, if humanely possible, using all his strength to potentially leave bruises on your smooth skin. “yes what?”

“yes, suguru!!” you tried.

“wrong,” suguru scowled, smacking your ass another time and making you yelp in agony. “say it again, and say it right. beg for it. beg for me to let you ride satoru. c’mon, baby, you can fucking do it.”

that’s right, you remembered amongst your sniffles and cries of pain, quivering and sobbing into the pillow. suguru had a daddy kink, didn’t he? he seemed to also like hurting you, obviously. that’s what he probably wanted then, for you to call him daddy instead of his real name. oh well, you suppose you didn’t mind, although it was a little degrading and humiliating.

“p-please daddy!!” you screamed, your face flaming red in embarrassment as geto roughly fondled your asscheeks, awaiting his desired response. “i’ll do anything! let me fu.. hnnngh,” you paused and moaned as suguru pressed his cock against you again teasingly. you could almost feel him smirking behind you from being able to make you falter. you started again, now determined: “let.. let me fuck him!! please, please, please, daddy, please, please…” you begged in whispers. this entire exchange was far more kinky than anything you had ever experienced in your entire sex life, so you could only pray you were doing it right.

to your glee, this response seemed to satisfy suguru as he removed his hands from your backside and gripped your shoulders, forcing you up and down onto his cock, though not inside just yet. his erection was so, so fucking close to your throbbing heat. fuck, he was rock hard… and just when you thought suguru geto had lapped up every ounce of slick your body could possible produce, your body made even more from sensation of his body heat and sweat intermingling with your own. his sharp canines bit down on the supple skin of your bare neck, pulling your hair to force access to your skin. you made unspeakably sinful sounds at the feeling of him utterly consuming you from the inside out, leaving his own marks beside satoru’s.

as he did this, you grinded against his hard cock pressing against your needy pussy, your tights clenching around his as you moved your hips almost gracefully backward and forward. with each nibble and harsh bite from geto, you whispered a string of curses and cries of pleasure as you locked eyes with satoru who was sprawled out slightly to your right. he had one knee up and his back was slightly arched, his mesmerizing blue eyes wide and cloudy with desire, his white lashes wet with tears as he stroked himself slowly, and then hard and quick, and then slowly all over again. he was edging himself to suguru manhandling you. it was unclear if it was you being beaten and hurt and pleasured all at once that got him off, or if it was suguru geto himself behind you burying his cock into the crevice of your asscheeks as he bit and sucked on the crook of your neck, covering you in hickeys. he was surely attracted to both, you determined, by the way he whimpered and whined into his hand gripping his cheeks on his face, both your name and suguru’s.

and you could feel suguru’s slim eyes staring at gojo as he pleasured you, growling and moaning like a predator consuming it’s prey, and then you quickly came to the revelation that this exchange was not just about you — you had felt it earlier, that mutual lust between them both, between suguru and satoru. not only were they pleasuring you, they were pleasuring themselves to thought of each other as well. and they had both probably fucked each other as best friends a few times as well.

and holy fuck, it made you so fucking wet. you could have came just from grinding against suguru right then and there, from simply soaking in satoru’s submissive cries of pleasure as he edged his poor beaten cock over and over and over again to you and suguru’s own attempts at drawing closer to your high. somehow, the room had just become a thousand times more hotter. then wasn’t just between you and suguru anymore, or you and satoru anymore — this was between suguru, you, and satoru, and the mere thought of that made your entire body quiver in lust as if you had been electrocuted.

finally gathering the confidence to act on your own, you flipped your own body around on suguru geto, rough moving your hips forward against his thick cock as you grabbed his face in his hands and slammed your lips against his. he moaned in surprise at your confidence, though he did not shun it. geto welcomed your lips, placing both of his hands against the small of your waist, and the moving them to play with your bruised ass cheeks. you opened your mouth to allow his tongue entrance, and suguru took that opportunity and ran with it, sighing in pleasure as he buried his tongue into the cavern of your hot wet mouth, exploring every inch of it. you could feel the cool metal of his piercing sending shockwaves of iciness through the nerves in mouth. at some point, you had both began to drool from the sloppy, drunken kiss, and your face and his were damp. you could hear satoru moan loudly as the slick, lewd sounds of him jerking off filled the room. he must be getting close again.

with a plop, you forced yourself off of geto to fulfill your promise of riding satoru, and geto smiled at you knowingly as you departed from him, his lustful, narrow eyes slimming even more as he grinned, and you returned the smile, your chest swelling with pride. you would show him. you would show geto just how fucking good you could be to his plaything, just how hard you could fuck his best friend and make him scream your name in desire.

you crawled off geto and moved towards satoru, gripping his bare thighs very suddenly and forcing them apart. gojo yelped in surprise, not expecting you to come onto him like this, but did not protest or stop you. his chest heaved up and down as he watched your every move, his eyes moving from yours, to your bouncing tits as you moved around, to the surface of your pussy, to your wet thighs, your plump lips, the marks forming on your neck and chest, everything. satoru gojo was captivated by every inch of your body, personality, and presence, and fuck, he was ready for you. he was so fucking ready.

“you wanna be a good boy for mommy and take your hand off your cock?” you mewled, and your own words escaping your lips so naturally shocked even you. satoru’s eyes widened and he let out a silent gasp, and you could sense suguru’s smirk growing evermore behind you. well, there was no going back now. might as well keep it up.

fuck, you had been waiting for this, waiting to prove to satoru just how sexy and confident you could be, prove to him that you were not to be fucked with. you had daydreamed time and time again about wiping that smug ass grin off his face, and now was your time to do that. suguru geto had motivated you enough, had built up your confidence and determination to act on your desires in the past few minutes for you to actually carry them out, and by the stars above you were gonna fucking do it.

“wh- wha?—“ satoru stammered, but you did not allow him to finish a full sentence. you decided to use this moment as an outlet to let out all of your built up anger and frustration towards the enigma that is satoru gojo in one night of pleasure and pain, and you did just that.

“shut the fuck up,” you stated strongly, smacking the living hell out of his face, and his head snapped towards the wall from the sheer force of the impact. his eyes were wide and glossy, and you could see him bite his lip hard enough to draw blood beneath the curtains of his white bangs. you grabbed his cheeks with your left hand and forced him to look at you through furrowed brows, and with your right hand, you pinned both of his hands above his head on the pillow, forcing them down. “you’re gonna be still for mommy, m’kay? that’s what you wanna fucking hear, don’t you, satoru? you wanna hear the sound of my voice degrading your worthless slut-ass for everything that you fucking are as i ride you into oblivion. that’s what you fuckin want, right, honey?” you cooed, although your words were nothing but sweet.

but they were to satoru. there were stars in his eyes as he looked up at you with those glossy, pretty blue eyes, batting his perfect, long and thick lashes, star struck by the sudden switch in personality you had endured. his cock was so hard that it sprung up to brush against your ass from behind as you straddled him tightly between your knees.

“there you fucking go, princess,” groaned suguru, now stroking his cock as you dominated satoru and hurt him with no mercy. “that’s how you fucking do it. good fucking girl… fuck yessss…” he threw his head back, pumping his wet length and running a hand through his damp, long black hair.

suguru’s praise motivated you to take it even further, and, without any warning, you lifted your hips and put all your weight on satoru, filling his length expand your tight inner walls and hit the surface of your cervix.

“fuck!” gojo cried in shock, and, on instinct, his hands slipped from your grip holding his hands down above his head and move to the flesh of your hips. you slowly began to move on his cock, pulling and teasing his release with each wet, sloppy, drunken, deliberate movement, and he moaned, overstimulated from his previous multiple edging sessions “ughhhhhhhnn.. don’t… stoppp… fuckkk..!”

gojo threw his head pack, his hair sprawled in messily on his forehead and on the silk pillowcase beneath him his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he gripped your hips and thrusted into your warm pussy. he pumped into you over and over and over again with no intention of stopping. now that he had you in his grip, gojo would never let you go — you were his for life now. he wouldn’t just let this be a drunken one night stand, no… “fuck..! ngh!!” he exclaimed in shocking pleasure as the tight walls of your hot, wet womanhood pulled and tugged and squeezed from the base to the tip of his beaten cock, and both of your juices leaked from your hole and onto the bedsheets and on your skin. at this rate, he was gonna get you fucking pregnant… fuck… the idea of you as a mother, with a swollen belly, making dinner for him on a sunday morning as he pressed into you from behind, a cup of hot coffee in his hand, suguru watching tv and drinking his own morning coffee in the living room… the perfect image of his future flashed in his mind in a millisecond just in that moment, and suddenly he didn’t want to pull out. you were all old enough to have a child, you, suguru, and satoru, all at the perfect age to raise one… raising a child, or maybe even two, maybe three, maybe four, with you and suguru sounded like heaven to him… so why not? after all, he couldn’t help it if he came inside that perfect little pussy of yours… it was all too tempting… it all felt too fucking good…

“ah ah ah..! don’t fucking stop mommy- ngh!!” satoru whined as you grabbed his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you fucked him silly, the sounds of slopping and pumping and lewd wetness painting the walls of satoru’s room. he didn’t know how much longer he could contain himself before he came inside-

“fuck it all to hell,” suguru growled, letting go of his cock and moving over to you and satoru, and, all of a sudden, suguru geto’s cock was pressed against the entrance of your asshole as he pushed your back down, forcing your tits against satoru’s face, which he welcomed in surprise, giving him access to your other needy hole. you knew suguru’s intentions the moment he pushed you down, to double penetrate you. you breathed in anticipation as suguru tapped the phone beside you all on the bed, turning his cock’s vibrating piercing on full blast. you gulped. you had done anal only once before in your life, so you were somewhat prepared, but it was still incredibly painful when suguru lubricated your asshole with his saliva and pushed himself in with no warning.

“a-ahh!” you cried in agony, the burning sensation of suguru’s cock in your ass making you see stars for a second from how badly it hurt. you paused for a moment, gasping for air as satoru became aware of the situation, his own thrusts dropping in pace for moment. “fuck fuck fuck!” you cursed in a whisper, lowering your head and squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

it hurt less than the first time you had done anal, which was good, you suppose, but it still fucking hurt like hell. it took a solid sixty seconds and a half before you instructed suguru to start moving.

and then both satoru gojo and suguru geto were pumping their hard, wet cocks inside both of your holes, both pairs of hands fondling and gripping every square inch of your body — neither of them could get enough of you, or of each other’s moans and cries and grunts of pleasure. and you were here for all of it.

soon the pain of you asshole being stretched had dissipated, and you could fully indulge in the pleasure of them both fucking you simultaneously. gojo played with your clit as they both pumped in and out, up and down, and you hardly had to move as both of the men did all the work. you felt like a spoiled princess, you felt like you were in heaven, and you had almost convinced yourself this was all a dream. but it wasn’t. this was all real.

“ah, ah…” suguru moaned in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, already so close to his release from the grip of your tight ass around his thick cock. “tell satoru what a good fucking boy he’s being for us, hm? tell him, y/n, nghhh-“ suguru could hardly contain himself as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his hair sticking in clumps to his neck and shoulders as the muscles of his forearms, biceps, and triceps all clenched as he gripped and smacked and fondled your ass. the vibrations of his cock piercing stimulated the g-spot in your ass so fucking good. you don’t know how much longer you could contain yourself.

suguru didn’t have to tell you twice. you weakly and sloppily kissed satoru, already only a few centimeters from his lips, drool dribbling down his lips as he whined. you raised a hand to gently wipe the tears falling down his cheeks, so indescribably pleasured by both you and suguru it had brought him to tears. you broke the kiss, biting roughly down on his bottom lip before you pulled away, struggling to catch your breath before you spoke.

“y-youre bein such a good boy- ngh-“ you were unable to speak for a moment, and satoru was so entranced by the perfection of your bouncing tits, the juicy wetness of your plump lips, the sensation of your tight pussy pumping him dry, the feeling of his best friend suguru gripping onto his hip with one hand and yours with the other for support as he fucked you from behind, to even care. finally, you were able to continue: “ah, ah..! fuck, satoru, you’re such a good bo- boy for mommy. d-don’t stop. keep making me feel good. you… ngh… you can do that for mommy, hm?”

satoru only nodded, unable to form the words. it wasn’t very long before his cock began to twitch inside of you uncontrollably from his overstimulation. “f-fuck..! suguru.. ngh..!” he whined loudly, so loudly you worried for just a moment the party downstairs could hear you all, but you also found yourself not giving a fuck as you proceeded to bounce on satoru when he couldn’t thrust into you himself anymore. he had also stopped fondling your clit and tits, but you didn’t need him to anymore — him and suguru fucking you at the same time was enough for the knot in your stomach begin to unfurl. satoru whimpered like the pathetic little slut he was, and moaned: “fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking perfect, i-i’m gonna-“

“-m-me too.. ngh!!” you cried the sight of satoru gojo beneath you, his hair a mess against the silk pillowcase, his bangs sticking in clumps against his forehead, his long lashes wet with his tears, his lips wet and swollen from your kisses and bites… fuck, your pussy clenched as you came harder than you ever had before, your inner walls of your pussy and ass simultaneously pulsating and clenching with your release, and for that moment, it felt like your body had ascended into another plane of existence.

“fuck!!” suguru cursed as his pumps in your ass became more sloppy and weak, and you felt the warmth of his seed pouring into you and leaking out… fuck, there was so much… then, finally, satoru came, whining and crying your and geto’s names (and even a few “mommy” and “daddy”s) in unintelligible whispers as his blue irises rolled to the back of his head, so overstimulated from it all that his body violently jerked as he came inside you. both satoru and suguru’s seed leaked from your beaten holes, and the sensation of them both pumping their seed inside you made your high last even longer.

when you all came down, you crawled into bed naked with satoru and almost fell asleep immediately. suguru took it upon himself to throw on some clothes to tell everyone (aside from his frat brothers that lived with him) to get the fuck out, that the party was over — you made note to thank him later. you knew you would all be so fucking hungover in the morning, but you didn’t care. satoru enveloped you in his warm embrace and you fell quickly asleep, suguru ensuring to turn out the lights before he left to call the party off. and about fifteen minutes later, suguru returned, and you could feel hear him lock the door behind him in the darkness of satoru’s room, undress himself again, and crawled into bed on the other side of you, pressing your body against his and falling fast asleep. you went to bed with a smile.

maybe polyamory didn’t sound so bad.

the end.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

holy fuck that took me like three hours to write lmfao. (Ő︵Ő)

anyway, i hope you all enjoyed <3 if you did, please interact! i will also take requests if anyone has any ideas for me!! i’m hoping posting oneshots on tumblr will motivate me to start writing fics on ao3 again lol.

until next time my lovelies!! stay hydrated you horny bitchesssss. ヾ(*▼・▼)ﾉ⌒☆

[angstigone]

you had thought that bringing denji and power with you to the grocry story for a late night grocery run would allow aki to rest, as he had seemed more than done with the dynamic duo.

albeit, the two weren't any better behaved with you, they wouldn't at least antagonize against you, mostly embarassing you with their own perks.

hence, you had sent them to pick up a 'reward' for their good behavior while you went to pick up some wine; the thought of having an home date with aki appeared in your mind as you remembered that power and denji would be off to a night shift in the incoming week.

you were examining the different brands when you were startled by a pat on your shoulder and while you thought of finding denji trying to convince you to buy something otrageous, you were faced with a man a few years your senior looking back at you calmly.

«miss, may I ask for an opinion?» he asked politely and although you were definitely tired off as it was - indeed - a late night run, you tried to gently smile and return the politeness «... I was choosing a wine for a date, and I am not an expert so I thought I'd ask for a second opinion».

he then extended two bottles in his hands, continuing to smile politely.

«oh...» what you wanted to actually say was 'the best option would be not picking up wine from a 24/7 kombini' but you were doing the right same, so you weren't in any judgement zone «... alrightie, I did drink the one you have in your right hand and if you'd like to drink vinegar, I am sure you'll be fine».

«that bad?» the man laughed at your sarcastic quip and you smile in compliance «... alright, alright... anything you'd like to suggest».

«your second choice is pretty solid, I do prefer white wine over red, but I'd say it mostly depends on what you'd like to cook and pair with it» you explained although it felt a bit obvious, but tried to be polite not wishing to be thought rude as the man was definitely well-intention. till, he wasn't.

«oh well... that depends» he said, assuming a thoughtful pose before his mouth opened in a smirk «... what would you like to eat on your first date?».

you tried not to let the dread show on your face at the badly-spoken pick up line; it wasn't even the fact that you were - happily - in a relationship, but the way that the man was lookng at you expectantly as if he had just said the best thing ever...

plan to let him down happily as you went to casually play with the lapislazuli ring that aki had gifted you for your birthday, although it was on the wrong hand to be an engagement ring.

«oh that'd be nice... except...».

«except she has already a mate, filthy rat!».

your face dropped further at the highpitched voice that spoke the words, not having to turn around to feel power's - stinky - presence by your side. she had an hat that hid her horns but she didn't look any less terrifying.

«... get your stinky hands off her!».

«power...» you started because as much as you had been aggravated by the unwanted attention from the man and cringy pickup line, you were sure that whatever the fiend would have come up with was much worse than your kind rejection «... it's fine... have you already...».

«don't you have no shame, dude!» oh no, power's craziness was matched with denji's own shamelessness. this was so over «... to hit onto a girl with a boyfriend!».

«a boyfriend?... filthy... rat?» the man looked patiently confused as his eyes racked from power to denji and back and forth «... I didn't know... I was simply... what is it... can't you even shoot your shot with an hot girl anymore?».

«no» power said finally, as you turned your head to check on the situation and found denji shaking his head judgingly «... she and topknot are happily mated! we are just waiting for pups to come out at any ti...».

«and just because a girl is hot, it doesn't mean that she has to give you any time of her day!» denji retorted right as you thought it could get worse and while his discourse did make sense, you were startled when he added «otherwise, I and miss makima would already be... i don't know... a thing?».

«is this... is this some new... anti-creep method?» the man spoke startled and definitely a bit intimidated as he took a few steps back «... to... have your friend pretend they are weirdos?».

«pretending? oh no, the great power doesn't pretend to be anything!» power, instead, moved a step forward as a lounding predator animal «... she's a weirdo!».

«powy, that isn't... well, that isn't a compliment» denji spoke before turning her attention to the unwanted assilant «... and if you know you are a creep why do you try to hit on girls? who's the weirdo now?».

if the man looked more uncomfortoable or confused, you didn't know. you knew just that power's and denji's plan worked as he backed off with a bewildered look, looking thoroughly traumatized.

you turned to denji and power fully, noticing the two high-fiving each other and then bumping their hips as they must have seen on a music video and it reminded you perfectly how young those two were, letting a smile appear on your face.

«he won't probably approach another girl ever» you said and while usually you'd be annoyed at them bothering an unwanted bystander, you felt your mouth quirk up in a smile «... good».

«I know!» denji promptly beat his fist onto his chest as a motte of pride while power smiled promptly.

«we gotta assure ourselves that you are protected when hayakawa isn't with you!» she muttered as if she had seriously given this much thought and you couldn't help but slightly giggle at their ridiculousness.

«well, I could have handled it on my own but thank you for the help» you gently patted each head in thanks.

«you totally couldn't» denji snickered before piping up «and either way, hayakawa promised us treats if we scared any man that approached you».

at that you quirked an eyebrow as power shot him a slight look of aghast horror at the revelation.

«that is so not true».

«it is!» denji insisted although you couldn't see aki to be like that. to say something like that; he wasn't definitely the jealous type and nor had ever been one to be outright possessive «... whether you believe me or not!».

you simply huffed knowing that there was no way you could have won such a competition and it was getting late. you were tired and sleepy and aching to get rid of the awkward meeting with a daily dose of hugging aki tightly to sleep.

«mmh, alright, let's go. put whatever sugary threat in the bin and let's go towards the exit» those two were then all too happy to fall into the discussion as they complied with your request, moving towards the checkout station.

as you scanned the items swiftly you couldn't help thought but smile softly at the small little family you felt, with an overprotective fiend and a cunning hybrid.

---

«... by the way, did you tell denji and power to keep an eye out for any potential dude hitting on me?».

«...».

«you did?!».

«I thought they'd realize I was joking».

«were you?».

«...».

[rollingsins]

falling all in you

summary: Vada makes a purchase for the two of you. 18+ smut. 

pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, strap-on sex, slight breeding kink if you squint. 

word count: 1.5k

a/n: for anon who requested top!vada. let me know your thoughts and what you want to see next!

When Vada had invited you over that afternoon to “study”, you’d expected it wouldn’t be long before you’d be under her like this. You’d been dating for a few months now, and often found it hard to keep your hands off each other. Especially on afternoons like this, when Vada had the entire house to herself. 

This time, she’d reached for something under the bed, coy smile as she caught the look on your face.  The rush of want that coursed through you had been stifled only by how long it was taking her to get the damn thing on. 

“One sec. Hold on.” Vada says. Her face is knitted in concentration. She fiddles with the strap. “Technical difficulties.” 

She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Damn. How do dudes do this every time?” 

“They don’t.” You say, deadpan. “Remember?” 

She has the good sense to look slightly sheepish. 

“Right. Duh.” She twists her hips, trying to loosen the straps. It doesn’t work. 

“Maybe I should wear it.” You suggest, a little impatient. Vada’s parents are out, but you’ve no idea when they’ll be back. The last thing you want them to come home to is Vada trying to figure out how to strap a plastic cock to her hips. 

“No.” Vada says, a little quickly. You raise an eyebrow. 

“I want to use it on you.” She says, biting her lip, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.” 

You smile at that. Rub your hand over her forearm. 

“Have you now?” 

“Yes. So help me with this, will you?”

It’s kind of erotic, helping her tighten the straps around her hips. The toy is bright pink, not too big, not too small. You’d spoken about getting one a few times, it was something you’d both wanted to try. You hadn’t expected her to find one so fast. 

“Where did you even get this from?” You ask, “Did you put it on your mom’s credit card?” 

“I got it online, told my mom it was her Christmas present so she wouldn’t open it.” Vada says. 

You raise an eyebrow ”That was- risky. What if Amelia had opened it?”

“Amelia knows better than to touch my stuff.” Vada says, blowing her hair out of her face, “There. I think I’ve got it.” 

She moves her hips slightly, watches as the dildo jiggles. Loops it around in a circle. “I’ve always wanted to do the helicopter.”

“You’re making this remarkably unsexy.” You say, hide behind a laugh. 

She raises an eyebrow, then lifts her shirt over her head. Your eyes fall straight to her breasts. 

“How about now?” She asks, with a smirk. Playful, like she knows she has you. You let out a small sigh. 

“Not fair. Jerk.” You whisper as she pulls you in. 

You kiss for a while. You don’t ever get tired of kissing Vada. Her lips are addictive, they taste like Cola and strawberries, a blend of your respective lip glosses. You cup her cheeks with your hands, groaning slightly as she pulls you into her, and onto her lap. You’re already naked, she’d seen to that earlier. You feel the silicone of the dildo against your stomach, sending a white coil of arousal through your body. 

“I bought some lube too.” She says breathlessly. You draw her hand down to you, whimpering as she cups you. 

She’s smiling as she pulls back. “Though I guess we don’t need it.” 

“Shut up.” You pull her back into you, cheeks reddening. 

Her fingers find your clit, rubbing gently. You slip your tongue into her mouth. You feel her hands under you, trying to guide herself in. It’s a little awkward, the way you’re sitting. She isn’t used to it. In one swift movement she’s pushing inside you. 

Your fingernails dig into her bare back as she slides in. You let out a low moan as she fills you up. 

“Fuck.” 

“Good?” Vada murmurs. Her nose brushes your cheek. The toy is cold, much colder than her fingers and so much girthier. It takes you a minute to get used to it. The stretch burns you, in the nicest way. 

“Yes. Holy shit.” 

Her hands fall to your hips, gripping you tight. You kiss her again, gently rock yourself down into her lap. The head hits you just right. You wrap your arms around her shoulders, trying to get as close to her as you can. 

Her lips dip down to your neck. 

It feels amazing. She feels amazing. Her bare skin against yours, her tongue against your collarbone. You thread your fingers in her hair, trying to hold her in place. 

“Should we talk dirty?” Vada’s asking. Her voice is a little gravelly, low. She’s turned on, “It feels like we should be talking dirty.” 

You bite your lip. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked, and it didn’t really surprise you. Vada loved to talk. To a fault. It was one of the things you loved most about her. 

“Do you want to talk dirty?” You ask, unable to hold back a smile. You press your lips to hers. 

“Yeah.” She furrows her eyebrows. Thinks a moment, “What do I say?” 

You try not to laugh. Smooth over the crease between her eyebrows with your fingers, “Just tell me what you want to do to me.” You say, nuzzle your lips against her neck. You can feel her heart jumping, smooth the skin over with your tongue. 

“I want-“ She thinks for a moment. “I want to fuck you.” 

“Mm.” You murmur, ride her a little faster,” What else?” 

“Um.” She thinks. “I want to fuck you hard.” 

“I think we established that, baby.” You bite your lip. She isn’t good at this. It’s sweet. Endearing. You press your lips to her cheek as you tilt your hips down onto the dildo. 

“I don’t know.” She whines, “This is hard. You try.” 

You bite your lip, lean in a little closer, until your lips are brushing the shell of her ears. “I want you to throw me back onto the bed and fuck me until I can’t walk.”

Her mouth falls open. In less than a second you feel her hands grasp tight around your body as she lifts you up, back into the mattress. She falls atop you, and you groan as the strap-on sinks even deeper into you. 

She kisses you feverishly. Her entire weight on you as she thrusts her hips into you. 

“Oh my god, Vada.” 

It feels even better than before. The way she jerks her hips, kissing you furiously. You’re completely encompassed by her. Her lips, her hair in your face, her hands on your thighs, holding you open so she can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

“You look so fucking hot right now,” Vada says. Her eyes are dark, her lips wet with your saliva. She reaches down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

The sensation almost sends you careening off the edge. She dips down, grazes her teeth over your neck. “I love fucking you like this.” 

“Harder, baby.” You gasp, moaning out as she complies. Her hips jerk into yours, steady, never faltering. You can’t believe how good it feels. How natural this is for her. You bury your head in her neck, groaning out as she rockets into your g-spot.

“Like that?” She murmurs. You nod, rather violently. 

“Yes, just like that.” 

“I wish I could feel it.” She says, voice feverish, “I wish I could feel how tight you are. I wish I could fill you up with my cum.” 

Your stomach coils pleasantly. 

“Jesus, Vada.” 

“Too much?” 

She’s pulling back slightly, stilling her hips. Apprehension on her face. 

You jerk your head, a little too quickly. Try and tug her back into you. 

“No.” You say. Voice desperate, needy,  “Keep going.” 

Her hips rocket into you. Purposeful. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body. 

She’s driving you to the edge. 

“Are you close?” Her voice is tight, “I think I’m going to cum.” 

The thought of her cumming from this alone sends a shiver down your spine. You clutch her close, press your lips to her neck. 

“Fuck. Yes baby, cum. Cum inside me.” You say, voice desperate. 

That does it. You feel her tighten against you, wildly jerking her hips as she cums hard. The change in pace sends you toppling over the edge with her, moaning into her ear as your orgasm ripples through you. She slumps on top of you, lays while she catches her breath. 

Your heartbeat thrums pleasantly, you wrap your arms around her body, press a kiss to her head. 

“That was so hot.” You mumble after a while, “How are you so good at that, already?” 

She looks up at you with a wide grin. 

“I’ve been doing hip thrusts in the gym.” She says, rather proud, “I told Nick it was for soccer.” 

At that, you laugh. 

“You’re so cute.” You mumble against her lips. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

You could lay like this forever. Press a sleepy kiss to the top of her head. Then remember it’s four in the afternoon and her mom will be home to make dinner soon. 

“We should shower.” You say, half-heartedly. “Put that thing away before your parents get home.” 

Vada hums against you. Presses a kiss to your shoulder before she’s peeking up at you, mischievous smile on her lips. 

“We could. Or… we could do it again?”

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables (Les Miserables)

Phantom faces at the window/Phantom shadows on the floor/Empty chairs at empty tables/Where my friends will meet no more/Oh my friends, my friends/Don't ask me what your sacrifice was for/Empty chairs at empty tables/Where my friends will sing no more

There's a grief that can't be spoken/There's a pain goes on and on/Empty chairs at empty tables/Now my friends are dead and gone

"In a musical about sad thing after sad thing, this one hits the hardest. I once saw a production of it in Budapest where the stage of the song before it had women in big white dresses literally turning around and around and then disappearing to leave the actor playing Marius alone on the stage and it was just so jarring and heartbreaking"

"This musical never fails to make me cry. Les Mis was the first musical that made me so passionate about the medium, and it still is my favorite. The story is heartbreaking, and it really fucks you up (especially if you're attached to the characters). About the song, at this moment (spoiler alert, I guess?) the revolution just failed (the people didn't come to support the movement, they were fighting alone), and everyone that participated pretty much died. Marius only survived because Jean Valjean saved him, and he finds out afterwards that ALL of his friends were murdered by the french police and that he's the only one left alive. He's drowning in survivor's guilt and on the memories of his dead friends, and is singing in the room they used to have their meetings when they were planning the rebellion. It fucks you up because you spent part of the musical getting attached to all of the Les Mis and you want them to succeed with the barricade, so this really rubs their deaths in your face (and you see Marius getting really fucked up over it)."

"Dude is singing about how his friends all died. If someone says they watched a production of Les Mis and didn't cry at this song they are lying"

Poll runner: I saw Les Mis live a while or so ago and holy fuck... it is the ultimate fuck-you-up musical. This song is especially devastating. It's all about survivor's guilt and the price we pay for a chance at revolution. The way they staged it fucking RUINED me, they had Marius surrounded by all the dead characters, all holding candles, and they slowly raised their candles like glasses, before blowing them out until only Marius was left onstage, candle raised to the sky. It was, as my director friend said, a picture perfect moment. Anyway, this song is absolutely devastating.

The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace (The Amazing Devil)

'Cause I've been here so many times before/Don't you think I look pretty/Curled up on this bathroom floor/But where you see weakness I see wit/Sometimes I fall to pieces/Just to see what bits of me don't fit/'Cause when I stand, oh all those folks will run/And tell the tales of what I've become/They'll speak of me in whispered tones/And say my name like it shakes their bones

"GIRL (gender neutral). It’s so unbelievably Hannibal (NBC) coded. Even the bio on genius.com is Hannibal coded. I was making up a dance to this song inspired by Hannibal in my room not even five minutes ago and it’s 10 pm my time. I hope that answers the question I’m just very mentally ill."

"Becoming a demon against your demons ("Cos I’m not trapped / With you you see / You’re the one who’s / Trapped with me"), shaping yourself into something dangerous against what hurt you, grasping with claws and teeth to your freedom and truest self. The pain shaped us but we won't let that stop us."

The Old Witch... submitted by @gay-breakdown-central + @saint-oleander + others

[theslushiestnoob]

——————————————————————————

American Boy (pt.2)

Word count: 2.3k

——————————————————————————

The week that followed saw me visiting Mandy and Martin’s place every day, sometimes to hang out there or sometimes to go out and explore the city. I had felt us all grow closer as a group, and Hamzah became increasingly comfortable with me as the days drew on.

Hamzah and I have made a habit of him driving me to Mandy and Martin’s place, as the alternative is getting an uber every time. As he pointed out, that would be both expensive and impractical, considering he only lived a few blocks away from my rental.

That morning, he knocked on my door to pick me up.

I opened it and smiled warmly at him.

‘Y’know, you could just message me when you’re outside and save yourself having to get out of the car every time,’ I say, fiddling with the lock of the door.

‘Nah, it’s fine,’ he affirms, crossing his arms across his chest. He was wearing his camo hat, of course, which his unruly curls were escaping from and coiling around his face. He also wore his oversized purple hoodie and a pair of shorts, exposing his legs from his mid-thighs down.

He looked me up and down for a lingering moment.

‘Nice outfit,’ he said with a smirk.

I looked down at myself, at my oversized brown Out of Character hoodie that Hamzah had given me a few days prior, when I had forgotten my own jumper at my rental. Mandy offered to let me borrow something from her wardrobe, but Hamzah had insisted I took the hoodie. I had paired it with blue-and-white pinstripe shorts to match the figures on the hoodie.

‘Thanks,’ I smile back at him.

Still struggling with the lock, I groan and barge the door with my shoulder. Hamzah laughs behind me and wordlessly takes the keys from my hands, effortlessly locking the door. He turns and smiles at me smugly.

‘Show-off,’ I mutter as I slink past him toward the car.

*

When we got into the apartment, Mandy greeted us excitedly.

‘Look at this girl when she gets given the chance to play the sims,’ Martin says amusedly in response to her giggliness.

‘Actually, it's extremely frustrating playing with you two but I’m excited to show the slushies my save,’ she says with an angelic smile.

‘We play as God intended,’ Hamzah adds with a smirk

‘Exactly. God intended us to make sim Joe Biden shoot up a cowboy bar,’ Martin replies.

Mandy rolls her eyes and makes for the computer, which has three chairs drawn up around it.

We had spoken on the groupchat the night before that I would come over when they film, so that Hamzah could give me a lift. We were going to order takeaway after, so it made sense for me to come with him even if I would be by myself for an hour or so.

I fell back onto the yellow sofa and covered myself with a plush blanket, picking up my book. I was in the same room, but just out of frame. Luckily, I had also brought my headphones.

‘Slushies, today we are playing The freaking Sims. And we have our mentor to help guide us on this heroic journey: Mandy,’ Hamzah intros the video.

‘Dude, we need to find a man right now,’ Martin adds.

Mandy sighs before saying, ‘You guys really do need a mentor.’

I smile to myself at their jokes before turning on my music.

*

‘OHHHH!!’ I hear Hamzah shout, his voice cracking from the volume. He leans back and covers his mouth with his hands, clearly reacting to something in the game.

I flinch, my hand jumping to clutch my chest in surprise.

I laugh as Hamzah turns to look at me, his laugh deepening when he sees my shocked expression.

‘I’m sorry, y/n! Wait, come look at this bruh,’ He gestures to the monitor.

I get up from my position on the sofa and walk over to the desk, resting my hand on the back of Hamzah’s chair as I lean into the screen.

I can’t contain my giggles as I see a sim of Travis Kelce wearing lingerie and cat ears.

‘Why would they add this to the game, dude?’ Hamzah says between laughs, Martin and Mandy laughing along with him.

‘Unless this is one of your freaky mods, Mandy,’ I add with a grin, turning to her.

‘I SWEAR this is Base Game,’ she laughs.

‘We believe you, girl,’ Martin says sarcastically.

‘Are you gonna say hi to the slushies?’ Hamzah asks, gesturing to the webcam and flashing me a glimpse of his smile.

I flush, having forgotten that they were filming. I feel Hamzah’s gaze lingering on me as I stammer my greeting.

‘Uh.. Hi guys!’ I say, turning to Hamzah for approval. He purses his lips and gives me a humorously critical look.

‘Girl…’ Martin says amusedly.

‘What? What else should I say?’

‘Your name, dumbass,’ Hamzah says. He places a hand on my shoulder and pushes me down until I’m eye level with the webcam. ‘And you’ve been giving the camera a great view of your boobs this entire time,’ he adds.

I blush and cover my face with my hands, partly from his comment but also affected by his lingering touch.

‘Hi guys, I’m y/n. I hope that you’re having a lovely day,’ I try again with a cheesy smile.

Hamzah nods approvingly with a humorous smile.

‘y/n, I need you to tell them that they can’t kill every townie they see, it’s pissing me off,’ Mandy says, glaring at Hamzah, who puts his hands up defensively.

‘You are leaving less people you can date,’ I reply, kneeling awkwardly beside Hamzah’s chair.

‘Oh we don’t have any more chairs, do we?’ Martin says, looking at Mandy.

‘Hmm, no, actually. The other one broke so I threw it out the other day,’

‘It’s fine, I’m alright down here,’ I assure.

‘No, come here,’ Hamzah says, scooting to the edge of his seat and patting the vacant space beside him.

I give him a bemused look, but his expression is innocent, his dark eyes wide and genuine.

I sit on the edge of the chair, feeling the pressure of our exposed thighs pressed together. Hamzah’s eyes dart to where our legs meet, before quickly looking away and shuffling in his seat.

‘Girl, I don’t bite. You’re gonna fall off, come closer,’ he murmurs as he wraps his arm around my waist.

I stiffen at the touch, feeling a jolt of electricity at the point where his hand is holding me. He pulls me into him, tucking his leg under mine so I can sit more comfortably on the chair.

He gives me a reassuring look before returning his attention to the screen, but I am completely frazzled. My leg is slung over his, feeling the heat emanating from his skin, and our hips are pressed completely together.

‘Can we play the freaking game now please?’ Martin asks, looking at us and knitting his eyebrows. He chuckles before saying, ‘Wow, you two look comfortable.’

‘Focus on mister Kelce not me, dude,’ Hamzah responds, seemingly unfazed by our intimate touch as his hand hovered on my waist, holding me to him securely.

We continued filming the video, and Hamzah acted completely normal. Occasionally, he would look down at his hand resting on my hip bone or my long legs cast over his and take a deep, shaky breath, which left me desperate to read his thoughts.

*

Martin pressed a kiss to Mandy’s temple, which she leaned into.

‘Nice one, guys. What food should we order?’

‘First thought is food, damn big back,’ Hamzah muttered to me, making me giggle quietly. Hamzah beamed at me, seemingly happy to have elicited a laugh.

‘I need some Tacos or something else basic,’ Mandy replied, ‘any requests?’

‘Tacos sound good,’ I affirm, and Hamzah nods in agreement.

Mandy and Martin get up from the desk and move to the sofa, grabbing their phones to make an order.

‘I… uh,’ Hamzah mutters, looking down at my legs.

‘Oh, God, sorry!’ I exclaim, jumping up from the seat we shared. Hamzah laughed, a warm blush rising up my cheeks.

‘Thanks,’ he says, rising from the chair and walking past me.

I took a deep breath and sat beside Mandy on the sofa, where she was cuddling up under a blanket and flipping through TV channels.

I rested my head on her shoulder, and she quietly said, ‘So, what was that about?’

I stiffened, jolting my head up to look around the room. Hamzah wasn’t there. Mandy giggled, saying

‘Chill, he’s in the bathroom. Tell me!’

‘Nothing, he was just being nice, making sure I didn't have to sit on the floor and all,’ I dismissed, reddening as I spoke. Was that all it had been?

‘Sure,’ she said, smiling to herself and looking at the TV.

*

There was an abrupt knock on the door, which Hamzah volunteered to answer. We had been watching the latest episode of Love Island, and he had been frequently narrating his general disapproval toward the concept.

He came back in balancing a small tower of cardboard boxes, making us laugh from their sheer volume.

‘Jeez, we ordered a lot,’ Martin remarks, standing up to take some of the boxes from Hamzah and place them on the coffee table.

We claim our boxes and eat our meals, happy to be able to unwind after filming for so long.

Hamzah scrolls on his phone, occasionally smiling at something. I feel myself constantly flicking my eyes to him to watch him, but I only allow myself a moment to do so.

He laughs loudly, using his hand to cover his mouth.

‘Oh my God, wait, you have to see this,’ He says, standing up from the opposite end of the sofa to come and sit next to me. He shuffles up beside me, his thigh resting under my crossed leg, and shows me his screen. I giggle at the video, his enjoyment of the utter brainrot humour amusing me. He turns off his phone and tosses it on the cushion beside him, refocusing on the TV.

I noticed the fact that he didn’t return to his seat next to Martin, rather staying beside me. He slung his arm across the back of the sofa and leaned back. I couldn’t help watching the slope of his neck curve as he threw his head back against the wall, his Adam's apple protruding and defined. He shuffled his arm into a more comfortable position atop the sofa, in a place that if I leaned into him, we would be embracing. My eyes trailed down his body, to his relaxed posture, to the inch more of his thigh exposed from his shorts riding up. I quickly looked away, but was greeted with Mandy’s raised eyebrows and sly smile. I gave her a death glare as she snuggled into Martin’s arms.

*

‘We should go,’ Hamzah says, addressing the group.

I nod in agreement, registering the lateness of the night and my own tired state.

We say goodbye to Mandy and Martin, and make our way to the car parked outside. Hamzah opens the door for me, resting his hand on the roof of the car as I climb into the seat. He closes it gently, then gets into the driver’s side.

There was a short silence, but the comfortable kind, born of mutual understanding and fatigue.

‘I’m kind of nervous to be in a video,’ I admit to him, wanting to get the fact off of my chest.

He turns to look at me, appraising my honest expression.

‘Why? I mean… I know why, but you shouldn’t be,’ he says, furrowing his eyebrows.

He’s wearing his glasses, I notice with a flutter of my heart. I love those damn glasses.

‘I don’t know..’ I gaze out of the window at the passing city lights, ‘You’re kinda famous, and I want to make a good impression, I want them to like me, y’know?’

‘Who wouldn’t like you?’

The rest of the journey is passed in small spurts of conversation punctuated by the atmosphere of tiredness and intimacy.

Hamzah got out of the car outside of my rental, walking around the car to open my door. I thank him, and he places his hand on my shoulder to help me out. Walking up to the front door, a wave of nervousness inexplicably washes over me. I fish in my bag for the chunky keys, shoving them into the temperamental lock and opening the door with a click.

‘Thanks for the drive, Hamzah,’ I smile at him, standing opposite me in the soft glow of the porchlight.

‘Always a pleasure,’ he replies.

I begin to place my hand on the doorknob as he leans toward me, enveloping me in a hug. He wraps his strong arms around my waist, stooping to rest his head in the crook of my neck. Momentarily stupefied, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and turn my face to his neck. We lingered like that for a moment, his touch dizzying me more with each passing second. He began to pull away, but remained close.

His eyes were fixed on mine, his gaze intense and unreadable. He looked vaguely pained as his eyes flitted around my face, as if memorising it. The air in the small space between our faces mingled with unspoken questions and longing. His gaze dropped to my lips for a moment, before he swallowed and stood up straight. He pulled his cap lower down his face as he looked away, clearing his throat as he did so.

‘I.. uh,’ he seemed as flustered as I felt, ‘Goodnight, y/n,’ He smiled again, before turning back to his car.

He walked down the short pathway, turning back to look at me before he retreated into the driver’s seat. My gaze lingered on his silhouette as he drove away.

——————————————————————————

I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDDD! Have a lovely day 💕💫

[hayleythesugarbowl]

YOO REQUESTS OPEN? can I get a Angela x reader celebrating Fourth of July??

Red, White, and You || Angela Giarratana x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you and the rest of the smosh cast go to angela’s place to celebrate the fourth of july, angela makes sure you two get your own celebration

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none

a/n: i’m sorry i couldn’t resist making the title cheesy 🤭anyways, hey girl hey! i tried to get this to you asap + closer to fourth of july but life got in the way so here you go, better late than never ig? i also have no idea what angela’s place looks like so for the purpose of this fic she’s got a house with a pool bc i say so 💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “It’s a blender!”

     “It’s a unicycle!”

     “No, It’s clearly a cabbage patch doll.”

     You stared up at the darkening sky as you listened to the chatter of your friends and coworkers around you, watching them play ‘guess the cloud shape’.

     “They’re all wrong,” Angela leaned towards you. “It’s a bunny on a toilet.”

     You giggled, turning towards her as her eyes sparkled. 

     You and the rest of the Smosh cast had decided to celebrate the Fourth of July together and Angela had offered her place for the gathering.

     You looked around you at her backyard, admiring the layout—the table now filled with snacks and drinks, the small flames still visible in the fire pit, the calm surface of the empty pool, the red white and blue lights that had been strung over the perimeter. 

     Naturally, you’d been to her house many times, but you’d never actually been outside. Especially when it was so festively decorated. 

     You and Angela had started dating a few weeks ago, but you’d known her much longer, being her coworker and acquaintance long before you’d admitted your feelings for each other.

      Now, you turned to her as the rest of the party, spread out and laying back on the grass, was still focused on the clouds. 

     “It’s always a bunny on a toilet with you,” you teased.

     “Caught me.” She rolled her eyes at you as she twisted from her leaned-back position to kiss you.

     “Get a room!” Chanse called from his spot a few feet over, throwing popcorn at you and Angela.

     Angela picked up a piece and ate it, shrugging.

     “Hey!” She shouted back. “At least I have a date.”

     You would have chided Angela for being rude if you weren’t busy thinking what it would be like to get a room with Angela. 

     It wasn’t that you weren’t—and hadn’t been—enjoying the party and hanging out with everyone. But, as your eyes flicked to your girlfriend in her American flag print bikini top and baggy shorts you couldn’t help wishing it was just the two of you. You would start, you thought, by pointing to her adorable outfit and telling her to—

     “Take it off!” 

     Yeah, pretty much that. 

     You turned to Chanse who had spoken. His gaze was directed at Angela, who had his empty popcorn bucket on her head. 

     “It’s fashionable!” Angela defended, modeling her new hat. You rolled your eyes at her, smiling despite yourself.

     “Did someone say fashionable?” Ian turned around, joining the conversation as he gestured to his shirt.

     “That thing and fashionable don’t go in the same sentence, my guy,” Courtney patted his arm without turning around.

     “Anthony, back me up,” Ian said, tapping his best friend on the shoulder.

     “Peak fashion.” Anthony shot him a thumbs up, continuing his conversation with Arasha. 

     “Yeah, my grandpa has the same one,” Angela joked. “Creepy eagle and all.”

     Ian clutched his chest in mock offense as Amanda turned around from her spot in front of you and Angela. 

     “Angela, when did you say the fireworks were starting? I don’t want to stay out all night,” she said.

     “Dude, it’s 9:15,” Spencer said.

     “And I need my beauty sleep,” Amanda defended, flipping her hair.

     “Should be any minute now,” Angela told her. 

     “How did you get someone to do a firework show?” You asked Angela. 

     Angela turned back to you, laying a hand on your leg. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

     You trailed your fingers along her hand and then up her arm, tracing patterns on her bicep. 

     She smiled, her voice coming out breathy as she said, “Alright fine, I guess a magician can make exceptions.”

     You enjoyed having this effect on Angela—especially because you knew damn well she had the same effect on you—and you couldn’t help grinning to yourself as she continued.

     “Real talk, I didn’t set them up. Just have a pyro neighbor who lights like a million fireworks every year.”

     You chuckled. “Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

     Suddenly, laughter erupted from your friends in front of you. 

     “What?” Angela shouted. “What did I miss?”

     As you watched everyone cracking up and talking over each other—and Angela still trying to figure out the joke she hadn’t heard —you leaned back and took in a breath. It was mostly dark now, the stars visible and the clouds long gone.

     The fireworks started then. First only a few popping sound, and then the sky was alight with bursts of color.

     A cheer erupted before everyone became silent as you all began watching the show.

     Angela leaned back, closer to you, and you placed a kiss on her temple.

     She closed her eyes for a moment before snapping them open, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

     “I almost forgot,” she whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”

     You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

     She smiled, standing up quietly and holding a finger to her lips, motioning for you to be quiet.

     You looked at her expectantly as you stood, grabbing her hand. 

     Angela? Quiet?

     Your position with Angela behind the rest of your friends came in handy as she led you away from the group, no one noticing or even turning their head. 

    She led you through her house, both of you giggling in your efforts to stay silent—though for what only she knew—and up to the balcony that overlooked her backyard below.

    Opening the door, she stepped to the side and waited for you.

     You put your hand to your mouth in surprise. Her patio was transformed into what could only be described as a cozy hangout. Fairy lights wound around the wooden boards, bean bags and blankets covered the floor surface, and there was a mini fridge to one side, complete with drinks and an array of pies. 

     “Wow,” you took in the setup that Angela had prepared. “You did all this?”

     Angela smiled sheepishly at you. “Yeah, I wanted us to be able to have our own little celebration—if you want.”

     You beamed at her, nodding. Angela grabbed your hand and you let her lead you to the blankets in front of you. You sat down and Angela joined you, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

     From here you could see everyone down below. You felt like you were in a separate world, observing everything from a distance.

     You leaned your head on Angela’s shoulder and watched the firework show, still bright and spectacular as ever. 

     This was perfect, you thought. The evening alone with Angela that you had been wanting.

     You brought your lips to hers. “Thank you, this is amazing.”

     “Anything for my little bunny on a toilet. Besides, I’ve been waiting to be alone with you all night.”

     You felt yourself blushing as she echoed your thoughts. “Yeah?”

     “Yeah.” She brought her lips to your neck. Your ear. Your jawline. And finally your lips.

     She pulled away and grinned at you, her voice rough. “You’re really sexy when you’re flustered.”

     “How do you know I’m flustered?” You shot back, but your voice betrayed you. 

     “Because I’m flustered,” she started. “So I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

     You scoffed but you nestled closer to her and she wrapped her arm even tighter around you. 

     “Happy fourth,” you whispered.

     “Happy fourth,” Angela said back.

     And then you were silenced by a particularly loud firework, the explosion lighting up the sky and illuminating Angela’s face next to you. 

      You could have asked for a better celebration, you thought, as you leaned in to kiss her once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this darlings!! always love writing for angela 🎀

[gkutfdvnn]

Just like every year chaos had unfolded right before Christmas. Flights were delayed and cancelled, disgruntled passengers were screaming at the employees desperately making phone calls, while some others had decided to just lay down on the seats to sleep.

As soon as you heard that your flight back from Paris was cancelled due to bad weather, you had taken your leave from the International Airport. Right now you were waiting for the metro, drinking some bear you were given at the airport by a stranger, some french dude you couldn't understand. With it came a leaflet to some party tonight, the only thing you understood was that it was Christmas themed, everything else just was gibberish to you.

Finally the metro came, mostly empty given the hour, so you just sat down and closed your eyes thinking about the last few days in Paris. Honestly, you liked the city. It wasn't as glamorous as seen on TV, yes the folks could be rude, but it had some sort of rustic charm, and for every unfriendly guy you had met twice the amount of kind people. You were thinking about the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, both the good and bad food you had eaten, the crêpes and the gauffres, and the beautiful Christmas market. The "vin chaud", you chuckled as you thought about the word in French, was actually delicious and you had gotten quite tipsy of it, to the point at which your friends had to accompany you to your hotel.

Shit, you must have fallen asleep. The can you were holding had fallen out of your grip and spilled beer all over your clothes. The doors opened and you looked up to the board. You were now a few stops too far ! Grabbing everything you could you rushed out of the wagon just before the doors closed again, falling face down on the floor. Luckily no one was there to witness your embarrassing fall. You cursed aloud, the "putains" and "merdes" leaving your mouth as if you had spoken french since birth. Too caught up in the moment you failed to notice the growing hairs that had appeared on your cheeks and chins, covering your lower face in a dusting of dark black dots. You looked back at the now empty railroad, a new series of French curse words escaping your lips as you noticed most of your things missing. The jacket, your gloves, your backpack and your suitcase were gone with the tram, lost in the maze of Paris Metro, all you had taken with you were the can of beer, and the pamphlet. Worst of all your wet jeans were starting to cool.

It was best to get on the move before freezing to death. You made your way through the white-tiled walkways of the underground metro while rubbing your arms and shivering. The rubbing seemed to help though, your skin was getting warmer each time you caressed it with your hands, your fingers pushing through the softer muscle. It was strange feeling around your arms with your palms, they both felt bigger and a bit softer, like they had swollen just a little bit. Soon, you didn't even need to rub your arms anymore but you still continued to, your own touch felt amazing, the tingling provoked by the tips of your fingers felt pleasant, great even !

After the corridors came the stairs, at first you were taking two, even three steps at the time. Being tall surely helped in these kinds of situations. But soon you were even having issues keeping the speed up, your feet were hitting the steps and you almost tripped and fell down, gripping the handrail as you were about to fall. That was close ! You waited a moment as some sort of dizziness settled around your stomach, you were sure the steps must have gotten slightly bigger on your way up, although your clothes also seemed a bit looser on your frame. Even though the dizziness didn't fade completely, you began your ascent again. Your whole body felt weird and out of place, just like you were shrinking, step by step. It wasn't much, enough to be almost unnoticeable. Each step you took altered your body just a little bit more. Your arms continued to swell while getting shorter with the rest of your body. Your legs lost in length and your back grew shorter too as they swelled with muscle, eating your rat away. Soon even your shoes didn't fit you properly anymore, your feet having left a bit of width and length. Your thighs expand to a fit and healthy girth, soon followed by your calves. Your back strains and stretches to the side as the muscles grow and expand there too. On the last steps, just before the automatic gates, you took a break as you caught your reflection in a broken screen.

The changes had been slow and gone unnoticed by you until now, there in the reflection stood a person you couldn't recognise. You wouldn't describe what you felt in that moment as panic, it was more like.. dissociation? As if the person you were looking at didn't match the person that was inside. You rubbed your hand through your beard that was still a few shades darker as your hair, then you lifted your shirt quite hesitantly revealing a lean stomach and then.. two pierced nipples set on a pair of girthy pectorals. You rubbed the silver rings and bit your lips. That tingling you felt earlier was spreading through your body again but this time it was transforming into growing pleasure. With one hand you continued to rub one ring, with the other you took your shirt off and threw it away. You looked back at the screen and pressed your lips together, a soft moan escaping your lips as the boner grew in your underwear.

You looked just like some handsome and not so average Parisian dude. You pushed your pants down and kicked them off with your shoes, exploring your body from top to bottom, gliding your hands in every crevasse and on every curve. Your thighs and calves jingled slightly as you moved around in front of the screen.

The mental changes didn't come suddenly, but were slowly rewriting your thoughts and memories. It was really more like acceptance. Of course that handsome guy's reflection couldn't be anything else than french. In fact, every second you spent in front of that screen made you feel ever slightly more french. You weren't working as a cashier abroad, but studying hard for a master's degree in economics. Paris was of course your only choice since you had grown up in a small french village without much to do, it was quite a lonely place for a gay dude like you. Soon, even your basic thoughts were expressed in French, every trace of your mother tongue erased and left forever forgotten. New moans escaped your soft lips as your hair darkened to match with your beard, and a fine layer of black hairs covered the rest of your body. Finally, with a few strokes, you came, and with it the last remnants of your past life vanished, just a stain on the floor, nothing more. You were now Pierre, a Parisian student, living your best life in Paris.

Some of your cum had landed on the flyer to the gay Christmas party you were going, you looked around for your clothes, somehow you had scattered them all around you. But hey, you sure damn didn't need them, the party was just above the entry to the metro, and you always enjoyed coming of strong !

With one jump above the automatic gates you left your past behind, ready to enjoy the Parisian city life !

[aaknopf]

Martyr!, the poet Kaveh Akbar’s propulsive debut novel, tells the tale of Cyrus Shams, the son of a lost mother (victim of a 1988 U. S. Naval snafu in the Persian Gulf that killed 290 people on a commercial airliner) and the long-suffering father who emigrated to Fort Wayne, IN with his baby boy. We meet Cyrus as a student of poetry at Keady University and a reformed addict. In this excerpt, he’s at the local open mic with his friends; we also share one of the poems from Cyrus’s bookofmartyrs.docx, helpfully supplied by Akbar, the poet behind the fictional poet.

. .

The Naples Tuesday night open mic had become a mainstay of Cyrus and Zee’s friendship. It was a small affair, not much to distinguish it from the myriad other open mics happening elsewhere in the country—except this was their open mic, their organic community of beautiful weirdos—old hippies singing Pete Seeger, trans kids rapping about liberation, passionate spoken-word performances by nurses and teenagers and teachers and cooks. As with any campus open mic, there was the occasional frat dude coming to play sets of smirky acoustic rap covers and overearnest breakup narratives. But even they were welcome, and mostly it felt like a safe little oasis of amongness in the relative desert of their Indiana college town, a healthy way to spend the time they were no longer using to get drunk or high.   Naturally, Naples didn’t have its own sound equipment, so Zee would usually show up fifteen minutes early with his beat-up Yamaha PA to set up for Sad James, who hosted every week. Sad James was called this to distinguish him from DJ James, a guy who cycled nightly through the campus bars. DJ James was not a particularly interesting artist, but he was well-known enough in the campus community to warrant Sad James’s nominative prefix, which began as a joke but somehow stuck, and to which Sad James had grown accustomed with good humor, even occasionally doing small shows under the name. Sad James was a quiet white guy, long blond hair framing his lightly stubbled face, who played intensely solemn electronic songs, punctuated by sparse circuit-bent blips and bloops, and over time at Keady, he had become one of Zee and Cyrus’s most resilient and trusted friends.   On this night, Cyrus had read a poem early, an older experimental piece from a series where he’d been assigning words to each digit 0–9, then using an Excel document to generate a lyric out of those words as the digits appeared in the Fibonacci sequence: “lips sweat teeth lips spread teeth lips drip deep deep sweat skin,” etc. It was bad, but he loved reading them out loud, the rhythms and repeti­tions and weird little riffs that emerged. Sad James did an older piece where the lyrics “burning with the human stain / she dries up, dust in the rain” were repeated and modulated over molten beeps from an old circuit-bent Game Boy. Zee—a drummer in his free time who idolized J Dilla and John Bonham and Max Roach and Zach Hill in equal measure—hadn’t brought anything of his own to perform that evening, but did have a little bongo to help accompany any acoustic acts who wanted it.   On the patio listening to Cyrus talk about his new project, Zee said, “I could see it being a bunch of different poems in the voices of all your different historical martyr obsessions?” Then to Sad James, Zee added, “Cyrus has been plastering our apartment with these big black-and-white printouts of all their terrifying faces. Bobby Sands in our kitchen, Joan of Arc in our hallway.”   Sad James made his eyes get big.   “I just like having them present,” Cyrus said, slumping into his chair. He didn’t add that he’d been reading about them in the library, his mystic martyrs, that he’d taped a great grid of their grayscale printed faces above his bed, half believing it would work like those tapes that promised to teach you Spanish while you slept, that some­how their lived wisdoms would pass into him as he dreamt. Among the Tank Man, Bobby Sands, Falconetti as Joan of Arc, Cyrus had a picture of his parents’ wedding day. His mother, seated in a sleeved white dress, smiling tightly at the camera while his father, in a tacky gray tux, sat grinning next to her holding her hand. Above their heads, a group of attendees held an ornate white sheet. It was the only picture of his mother he had. Next to his mother, his father beamed, bright in a way that made it seem he was radiating the light himself.   Zee went on: “So you could write a poem where Joan of Arc is like, ‘Wow, this fire is so hot’ or whatever. And then a poem where Hussain is like, ‘Wow, sucks that I wouldn’t kneel.’ You know what I mean?”   Cyrus laughed.   “I tried some of that! But see, that’s where it gets corny. What could I possibly say about the martyrdom of Hussain or Joan of Arc or whoever that hasn’t already been said? Or that’s worth saying?”   Sad James asked who Hussain was and Zee quickly explained the trial in the desert, Hussain’s refusing to kneel and being killed for it.   “You know, Hussain’s head is supposedly still buried in Cairo?” Zee said, smiling. “Cairo, which is in which country again?”   Cyrus rolled his eyes at his friend, who was, as Cyrus liked to remind him when he got too greatest-ancient-civilization-on-earth about things, only half Egyptian.   “Damn,” Sad James said. “I would’ve just kneeled and crossed my fingers behind my back. Who am I trying to impress? Later I could call take-backsies. I’d just say I tripped and landed on my knees or something.”   The three friends laughed. Justine, an open mic regular whose Blonde on Blonde–era pea-coat-and-harmonica-rack Bob Dylan act was a mainstay of the open mic, came outside to ask Zee for a cigarette. He obliged her with an American Spirit Yellow, which she lit around the corner as she began speaking into her cell phone.   In moments like these Cyrus still sometimes felt like asking to bum one too—he’d been a pack-and-a-half-a-day smoker before he got sober, and continued his habit even after he’d kicked everything else. “Quit things in the order they’re killing you,” his sponsor, Gabe, told him once. After a year clean he turned his attention to cigarettes, which he finally managed to kick completely by tapering: from one and a half packs a day to a pack to half a pack to five cigarettes and so on until he was just smoking a single cigarette every few days and then, none at all. He could probably get away with bumming the occasional cigarette now and again, but in his mind he was saving that for something momentous: his final moments lying in the grass dying from a gunshot wound, or walking in slow motion away from a burning building.   “So what are you thinking then? A novel? Or like . . . a poetic mar­tyr field guide?” asked Zee.   “I’m really not sure yet. But my whole life I’ve thought about my mom on that flight, how meaningless her death was. Truly literally like, meaningless. Without meaning. The difference between 290 dead and 289. It’s actuarial. Not even tragic, you know? So was she a martyr? There has to be a definition of the word that can accom­modate her. That’s what I’m after.”

More on this book and author:

Learn more about Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar.

Browse Kaveh Akbar's poetry collections and follow Kaveh on Instagram @kavehakbar.kavehakbar.

Visit our Tumblr to peruse poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

[pronetoearinfections]

my sprunki hcs but in text from since I haven't drawn all of them yet el oh el

they're kinda based off of their canon but I just added my own little spin :333 BEATS Oren - Cis dude, has a big fat crush on simon. fluffy orange alien with glowing antenna, black shirt with a baggy over shirt and torn sk8ter jeans. he smells oddly enough like banana

he's laid back, uses a lot of today's slang, and skates ALOT. he smokes with vineria sometimes, but VERYYY rarely. ever. he gave Simon an edible once and Simon fucking geeked out and he's sworn to never to it again. Raddy - Cis dude, str8 as FUCK. a buff red goat who has four horns and wears a white tank top and black sweats, his pupils are slanted sidways. he smells faintly of sweat cause he works out so much lol he's short tempered, egotistical, and he works out a bunch, he makes fun of oren and everyone else who's shorter than him for it then gets made fun of being shorter than wenda and durple. Clukr - Cis dude, happily married with garnold. a silver beetle with mandibles near his mouth and on his temples, he has a exoskeleton back and he has little legs on his sides. he smells kinda like oil but mostly of cologne. he's intelligent, and spends a lot of time building robotics with garnold. he's funny, and he makes a loud " TSSHH " with his headpiece when startled or upset. he clicks his wrench on his headpiece when he's bored too, or when he's thinking. Vineria - transmasc, str8. a tall plant with dreads, pink flowers and vines in his hair, he wears a oversized sweater w/ flowers on it. he smells really strongly of weed with a mix of perfume.

VERY laid back, a stoner ( lol ), he draws alot of flowers and paints them. he's very soft spoken, and he's honesty kinda slow when it comes to work & thinking. but he's sweet, he also offers people a joint when they're stressed.

Fun-Bot - Cis dude?????? he's a robot so idk. a grey robot with fur and hair implemented on his head and chest, his eyes r a visor and his mouth is connected to them, his antenna glow when he feels intense emotion. he smells like metal I guesshelep

very smart due to him being a robot, he gets asked alot of questions by the other sprunkis due to him being basically an AI, he likes to read and his antenna move, any time he walks or moves a little robotic " vrr " sound comes out of his joints.

EFFECTS Grey - Cis dude, str8, dating wenda. a fluffy grey dog ( a breed of shepherd dog to be specific ) usually wears a Weezer shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans. he smells like Britney spears midnight fantasy perfume

slightly sarcastic, seems tired, chill, not much exaggerated personality, he uses perfume because wenda forces him because cologne smells bad to her and she doesn't like it. he doesn't like to get too deep into conversation with those he doesn't know. he's very skiddish, yet tries to play it off as him being ignorant. he sits in deep thought alot, with his head in his hand and his gaze zoned off.

Brud - CIs dude, even he's not sure what he is or who he likes lol. a fluffy brown critter ( I don't know what to make him lol ) with a grey bucket on his head, his eyes are off center and he has two mandibles around his mouth, he also has little bug legs on his side. he has a large abdomen with multiple legs on it like a centepede.( I feel like he'd be some sort of bug ), he wears a light brown sweater and black jeans. he smells like dirt and moss but in a really good way.

he's clumsy, a bit dumb, and he likes to eat moss when nobody's around. he can't process much unless it's explained to him like he's stupid ( which he is ), his mandibles clamp together when he's upset. Garnold - CIs dude, married w/ clukr. a critter who usually wears a pair of oil stained overalls, a white t-shirt, and giggles on his head, his gold suit has goggles on it's head, the suit has springlocks in it and it has an electronic visor, it's made of steel and the springlocks are located in his upper and lower torso, arms, neck, head, and legs. he smells like oil and sweat ( he DOES shower but he works really hard on his creations ) he's buff due to all the heavy-lifting of metal and he spends a lot of time plotting and building robots, both him and clukr built Mr.fun computer, and fun-bot. he's very strong and can carry anything you give him, he and clukr plan things and blueprint them. he has a slight southern accent.

OWAKCX - Cis dude, pansexual with no preference. a spiky lime green sea urchin with fluff on his chest. one of his pupils is bigger than the other. he smells like chlorine in a pool. he's very on edge, he's always tense and alert, when relaxed his spikes go down and become fuzzy and fluffy, he chitters when relaxed. he doesn't talk much and when he does he says words and doesn't connect them into sentences. Sky - CIs dude, str8. he's 14 El oh. El. a sky blue bear who's slightly on the bigger side, he's fluffy, and wears pajamas often. he smells like Lysol disinfectant spray

he's your average teenager, but he collects teddy bears, he's chill and laid back, but he also has alot to say and he's kinda snarky. he thrifts alot of his bears so he has to clean them using lysol. he really likes to sew his bears together and he makes things out of the thrifted bears.

MELODIES - Durple - Cis dude, Bi. a purple dragon with a slightly longer neck than the other sprunkis, he has two long slightly curled horns and webbed fins ( or ears ) on the side of his head. he smells like smoke very faintly. he's very funny and cracks a lot of jokes, he can breath fire and huff smoke out of his nostrils when upset, he's bigger than the other sprunkis due to him being a dragon. he collects alot of things and steals from other people cuz he's a dragon.

Simon - Transmasc, has a fat crush on oren but he doesn't know. a fluffy yellow alien with spikes on the sides of his head,his hair is curly, he usually wears a white t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. he smells like cologne.

he's loud, energetic, and drinks a lot of soda, he likes playing video games w/ oren and he makes fun of him when he loses. he's very out of pocket and has little to no filter. his antenna can electrocute people and they vibrate when he's comforted, he also purrs. but its a weird electric sounding purr.

Tunner - CIs dude, bi. a snake-like critter with a rattlesnake tail ( he's not really an animal but he's DEF something. idk ) who's both fluffy and scaly in different areas. he wears sheriff/cowboy lookin' stuff and he has a very western accent. he smells like fall trees.

he's kind, and gives off dad vibes, he has a STRONG western accent and he enjoys driving and allowing the wind to get in his fur ( and on his scales ) he's tall and slim and his tail rattles when he's really upset. he owns a gun, and his aim is very good. VOICES Mr.fun computer - ??? no clue. a computer bot thingy. a computer who was built a body, his arms and legs are skinny and metal, while his hands and feet are soft and have pawpads. his head is a computer screen and his torso is protected with durable metal. his tail is a black wire with a charger port on the end. he has a propeller hat on. he smells like metal???

he', he likes to have fun and party, he can charge himself by sticking his tail into an outlet. he was garnold's and cluker's first creation. idk what else to wriet

Wenda - Cis chick, dating grey. a fluffy white cat with curly, soft hair. she's tall and hovers over anyone she stands by, she smells like perfume and vanilla.

wenda is slightly rude, but also very flirty when it comes to grey, she's very teasing and she likes to go mall shopping and make grey come with her, and she lets him go to hot topic el oh el. wenda's VERY condescending to literally everyone and will literally look at you while you're upset and baby talk you like you're two. just for fun. lol. but she's also very soft, and if you know her well enough she's sweet and will purr on you.

Pinki - Cis chick, she a MAD lesbian on God trust. a pink fluffy rabbit who wears bows in her hair. she wears juicy couture jumpsuits and other stuff of their brand. she smells like perfume. like. REALLY strongly of really nice perfume brands.

pinki is a girly girl who's actually really sweet, like, REALLY. sweet, she offers to buy the other sprunkis food and presents and she's very sentimental, if you buy her something she'll start crying and hugging you and saying thank you, she often whistles and hums random tunes.

Jevin - Cis dude, blacks little e-kitten.. EHELP. jevin is a blue fluffy angel-like critter who wears a cloak all the time, his cloak has holes in the back of it to make space for his wings. they're like. HUGE. if you pull his hood down he has fluffy hair that's very soft to the touch. he smells like a candle??? Idk

jevin is a closed off, very introverted cultist who doesn't speak much. he's selectively mute and only really talks to black, he's tall and slim and her rarely takes his hood down. he's basically black's disciple but he really doesn't want to be but he won't fess that up to black ( he's kinda scared of him ) when he's upset or scared he'll fold his wings back and scowl. Black - Cis dude, jevins emo alpha..EHELPME. black is also. fluffy. and he's a shapeshifter who usually takes the form of a slightly humanoid with a black tophat. he smells like. good. but you can;t really pinpoint what he smells like he just smells decent idk.

black doesn't speak much, and he's also very closed off, but he's a master manipulator who makes slick, smooth moves on the other sprunkis for his own will, he has a condescending attitude and he's kinda unnerving to talk too. very odd. oddball. anywaysss uhh. yeah. giggle. I will draw my designs of them later