#bloodhound gang fic

[jackassbrainrot]

quaking and patiently waiting for part two to tongue tied (i’m going insane)

tongue tied pt. 2 [bam x jenn x jimmy]

part 1

desc: jenn and jimmy teach bam yet another important skill

a/n: more people liked it than I expected hello did I hit a niche?? oh cocky jimmy and sub bam <33 and jenn just being hot, as always <3

warnings: weird relationship dynamics!!, threesome, blowjobs, facefucking, jimmy pop's canonically small dick, dacryphilia, d/s dynamics, under negotiated kinks, light objectification, whoops there's a cum kiss sorryyy

"He can't shut up about it, you know." Jenn leaned on the bar next to Jimmy, talking directly into his ear.

"'Bout what?" Jimmy questioned, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Sucking your dick." She said it so matter-of-factly, as if she were talking about the weather.

He hummed, eyes searching for Bam around the bar, until they finally settled on the young man surrounded by the CKY guys, his arms flailing as he talked.

"You should come back to the castle with us tonight." She pressed her body closer to Jimmy's, finally making him drop his gaze from Bam to her.

"You really wanna watch your boyfriend blow a guy?" He wrapped an arm around her waist, a cocky smirk plastered on his face as he felt a familiar set of eyes boring through them at their little display.

"You have to admit he looks good on his knees." Jenn seem to feel that intense gaze as well, burying her face in the crook of his neck, a hand placed on his chest. "And I like the way he listens to you."

Another satisfied hum left his throat before he looked up to meet those clear blue eyes, darkened by a mix of jealousy and lust. He tilted his head, motioning towards the door and mouthing "let's go", watching Bam fumble for his keys, making up some lame excuse to the others before running out the door. Jimmy dropped a few bank notes on the counter, pulling Jenn along as they left the bar.

"Give Jenn the keys." Jimmy said before Bam could say anything, the couple looking at him confused.

"Why?" The younger man asked, lost as to what Jimmy was playing at.

"Because I said so." He was on a high as he watched them both oblige without further questions, opening the door to Bam's Bentley, motioning for him to get in with an overexaggerated bow. As he sat down in the back with the younger man, he made eye contact with Jenn in the rear view mirror, the glint in her eyes confirming that she knew exactly what he was doing.

"A little birdie told me you've been thinking about me." His tone was teasing as he stared down the skateboarder who seemed to curl up into himself. He set a firm hand on the younger man's thigh, silently ordering him to stay in place. "Is that true, Bam?" He dropped his voice when saying his name, knowing what it would do to him.

"Yeah." He breathed out. The air of dominance around Jimmy was suffocating, his only response to Bam's admission being a low hum. Bam's breath caught in his throat, unable to speak as Jimmy's hand moved higher. He sought comfort in his girlfriend's gaze in the rear view mirror, only to be met by mischievous smiling eyes. "Tell him what you told me." Jenn's eyes moved back to the road, foot pressing a little harder on the gas, wanting to get them both in the bedroom as soon as possible.

"Yeah, tell me." Jimmy prompted, equally as impatient as Jenn, his jeans starting to feel tighter already.

"I wanna suck your dick."

"That's not what you said." Jenn sing songed, making her boyfriend roll his eyes despite the blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Fine, I want you to fuck my mouth. Make me choke on it. Cum down my throat and make me swallow it." The frustration and embarrassment in his voice was apparent, even though he sounded somewhat confident, sure of what he wanted, staring straight into the other man's eyes. Jimmy's cock twitched, and it was Bam's turn to feel cocky for having an effect on the older man.

Their little interaction was cut short by the car coming to a halt. They scrambled up the steps, none of them even attempting to hide their eagerness as they ran into the couple's room. The position they found themselves in was similar to last time, only Jimmy and Jenn had swapped places, and this time, Bam fell to his knees without being told to.

He was kneeling with his hands in his lap, waiting for orders, expectantly looking up at the two figures above him. "Why don't you show me how Jenn usually does it, hm?" Jimmy leaned back slightly on his arms, spreading his legs further. "Pervert." Jenn huffed out, lightly slapping his thigh, feigning offense.

Bam kissed Jimmy's clothed crotch, hands running over his thighs, before biting the pull of his zipper lightly, pulling it down. "Oh, that's filthy." Jimmy groaned, throwing his head back, hearing Bam giggle before going back to kissing his still clothed cock gently. Jenn dropped her hand down, pulling his dick out of his pants, holding it while Bam licked the tip tentatively.

"Open your mouth." Jimmy commanded, voice low, his grey eyes piercing through Bam as he obeyed, lips parting. Before he could slip his dick past the soft pink lips, Jenn's hand tangled in Bam's hair, pushing him down forcefully. Despite Jimmy's dick not being big enough to reach the back of his throat, he gagged around it, tears collecting at the edges of his eye as his beloved girlfriend used him like a cocksleeve for one of his best friends. The thought made him moan, the vibrations making Jimmy buck up into his mouth, making him gag again.

Putting a hand on Jimmy's cheek, Jenn turned his head to catch his mouth in a searing kiss as she held Bam in place, his nose pressed against the older man's pelvis. He licked across the shaft, still sucking absentmindedly, focused on the action above him. His eyes were starting to water, his eyeliner running down his face in streaks. When their lips disconnected, Jimmy looked down at Bam, looking like a cheap yet insanely attractive hooker.

"Already crying? I haven't even fucked your face properly yet." He cooed, punctuating the word yet by tangling his own hands in the dark locks, holding the younger man in place as he thrust in roughly. He set an unrelenting pace, ignoring the little choking sounds and whimpers coming from Bam's mouth.

Jenn slipped down from her position on the bed to kneel behind her boyfriend, pressing soothing kisses to his back as she unzipped his pants. Her warm hand wrapping around his painfully hard dick caused him to moan around the dick in his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the overwhelming mix of sensations.

It didn't take long for Jimmy to cum, watching spit and tears coat Bam's pretty face, his lips swollen red and his clear blue eyes glued to the singer. He held his head down, filling the skateboarder's mouth with a growl. "Open your mouth and don't swallow." There was a threat hidden somewhere in those words, forcing Bam to do as he was told through the haze of his own approaching orgasm.

Jimmy watched as Bam struggled not to swallow, cum pooling on his tongue, making his moans sound garbled as Jenn stroked his dick faster. His body went taut, cum spilling over his girlfriend's hand, moaning desperately.

"Kiss him."

A self satisfied smile spread across Jimmy's face as he watched the couple, on their knees, making out with his cum passing between their lips. He could really get used to this.

[welcometojackass2022]

y’all I’m very scared rn…the jackass/CKY/Viva La Bam hyperfixation I’ve had for over 6 months is slowly starting to fade and be replaced with a Jimmy Pop/bloodhound gang hyperfixation and idk what to do…im gonna be so sad and so so disappointed if I completely lose interest in Jackass and CKY

[tenitchyfingers]

I... never actually looked up the lyrics to Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo and first line is “vulcanize the whoopee stick in the ham wallet”

💀💀💀💀💀

[mono-moonchilds]

For Glory │KNJ

⤑ pairing: underground boxer!namjoon x fem!reader

⤑ genre: angst!!, smut, some fluff ig but also not really but yes??

⤑ rating:explicit (18+)

⤑ word count: 3.2k

⤑ summary: A fight to the death. No rules, no refs, and nowhere to run.

⤑ warnings: descriptive depiction of boxing, illusions of death, mentions of a stabbing, ig just violence in general fr, arguments, anyways on to the smut part of these warnings, fingering, emotional sex, missionary, riding, namjoon has a buzz cut, feel free to let me know if I missed anything but I think that's all folks

⤑ A/N: I watched Bloodhounds a few weeks then just had to make a boxing fic because I loved that show so much. hot men + fighting = sign me up.

The room was full to capacity, nothing but sweaty drunks that were hollering over each other while letting out rowdy cheers filling the place. Despite it all, it felt like you could hear everything. Every punch, every kick- each blow that landed on his bruised skin rang a thousand times in your ears. The fight had only been going on for fifteen minutes —probably less— but it felt like much longer. Both of their bodies already so badly beaten —bright red blood spewing from their wounds and covering the once pristine mat.

This was your first fight and it showed. Your hands clenching the worn wooden benches, breath hitching at every movement. You usually didn’t come to these events, and you didn’t see how anyone could. They were barbaric and rough -no gloves, no rules, and definitely no safety measures. They couldn’t use weapons but that was about it. Everything else was free game and however the match ended was how it ended.

Whether it was in a K.O. or stone-cold murder was all up to the victor.

‘Fight To The Death’ was what they called it. A sixteen-by-sixteen ring, surrounded by wired, ceiling-high fences, and absolutely no referees. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and nowhere to escape. Neither party could call a time-out either. Once they were in the ring they were stuck there until the horn blew signaling the match was over.

“Fuck!” You jumped up from your seat. That was a mean one. The punch knocked Namjoon straight on his back allowing the other to climb on top. Luckily Namjoon was able to bring his arms up and get into a protective huddle, but it was still barely any help. Lee Do Yoon was evil, and his hits were ruthless. Even in the regular matches, he had a reputation for playing dirty.

This wasn’t even supposed to be his fight. For two years Namjoon had been out —he owned a gym and had a regular life that didn’t involve the underground fighting scene. For two beautiful years, you were able to see your boyfriend come home the way he left. No bruises, no busted lips. Just a clean face and a happy smile.

All of you had told Jungkook to lie low. That bragging and arguing with The Vipers was something he did not want to do. Despite your efforts to keep out this scene and the business that went along with it even you knew that Do Yoon and his little gang were nothing to mess with. Of course, Jungkook didn’t listen. When did he ever?

The night of your anniversary was when you got the call. You and Namjoon were on your way home from dinner when his phone rang.

Jungkook had been stabbed. They did him over three different times before leaving him for dead in the middle of an alley. Thankfully Jungkook had been relatively fine, but he was in absolutely no shape to fight. He could’ve pulled out but all of them had way too much vengeance to let the incident go unchecked, letting The Vipers have another by default victory. The other man had done this before and the only reason none of them ever got him back was they were all too consumed with their grief.

Hoseok had offered to fight in Jungkook’s place and so had Taehyung but either of them getting in that ring with Lee Do Yoon would’ve been like signing their death note. It’d been years since their last fight. And even though both of them were still in amazing shape they also had way too many injuries to even stand a chance of winning.

Of course, Namjoon never told you his plan though. He kept quiet, carefully dodging your suspicious questions until tonight.

“It’s okay- he’s okay. Namjoon’s got this,” Jungkook tried to comfort wrapping his arm around you, but you shook him off sending a mean glare.

You knew it was unfair to still be angry with him, but you couldn’t help. Sometimes you just wanted Jungkook to grow up —for him to mature and think with his head. Yeah, he knew how to step but he also needed to know when to fall the fuck back. He was twenty-five and everyone was still cleaning up his messes as if he were a kid.

“Joon!” You screamed out your hands banging against the gate. Instead of grabbing your boyfriend’s attention, you grabbed Do Yoon’s. A bloody grin filling his snake-like features as he turned towards you.

“Come on Joon—” he cooed mockingly, “you gone let your girl stand there and just watch you get put down like an animal? I thought you were supposed to be something. That’s what they told me.” Do Yoon got up from on top of him swinging his leg back hard before pushing it forward kicking Namjoon straight in the side. It sent all the air out of his body making Namjoon curl into a ball as he let out a loud cry. “Your nothing,” Do Yoon hacked a bloody lob right onto his face. “Just a washed-up piece of shit.”

Do Yoon yanked his head back. Namjoon had no time to react before the other man's hard fist clocked him dead in the face six times before dropping him back on the mat. Even though the match wasn’t over Do Yoon jumped around the ring as if he’d already won the crowd hyping him up like the depraved monster he was.

“Please,” You begged. Namjoon was still down. He kept trying to get up, but his body was wobbly and failing him.

Do Yoon crouched down in front of you. His tongue dragged against the nasty wire fence as he licked it. “Once I’m done imma have a nice time with you—” he reached down groping his flaccid dick in his shorts. “me and my boys. We’re going to-”

Before he can finish the sentence Do Yoon’s face is smashed against the fence before being dragged back. Namjoon is the one on top now. His punches unrelenting as he attacks every part of the man underneath his body. For once you understood how everyone else in the arena felt. A loud cheer came from the depths of your soul as you threw your arms up. Do Yoon was able to get a few good punches in, but it wasn’t enough, newfound energy filling Namjoon’s entire being.

It should have terrified you. The way Namjoon looked -his eyes cold and distant but it didn’t.

With one last heavy punch the match was over, Do Yoon’s arms falling flat to his side. For once the audience was quiet. Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if he would get up. Strings of swearing erupted from his goons, their hands shaking the cage wall as they yelled at him. It was too late though.

The loud countdown over the speaker started.

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

One!

The horn blared.

“The winner of this year's Fight to The Death: Kiiim NaaamJOON!”

As soon as the gate rolled open you were gone. Jumping up you wrap your legs around Namjoon’s waist, his strong arms lifting you into the air. The crowd fickle as ever rang out in cheers, shouting and chanting Namjoon’s praises. Your boyfriend took it all in, a loud roar erupting from his throat as he bounced up and down.

It was over.

It was all finally over.

Namjoon walked out of the venue with a limp and somewhat clean face. Though he was still marred with bruises and cuts, Seokjin had managed to patch him up well. Before the two of you got into the car, he called over Jungkook handing him one of the leather briefcases. With a shake of his head, the younger immediately declined, pushing it away.

“Take it,” Namjoon pressed shoving it into his chest. “Pay your debts and stay out of trouble.”

“I’m sorry Hyung,” Jungkook broke down into tears. “I’m so sorry,” He repeated looking at you this time. “I will. I promise I will.”

“I know,” Namjoon said pulling Jungkook into a hug. “It’s over. don’t think about it too much.”

Throughout all his goodbyes Namjoon kept a stoic face. It was only when the two of you crawled into the backseat of Hoseok’s car that he let out a loud sob. Hoseok looked back at him through the rear-view mirror but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. Reaching over you grabbed his hand and leaned over resting your head on his shoulder.

“I did it. I fucking did.” Namjoon whispered but you knew he wasn’t talking to you. He wasn’t talking to either of you. Instead, his focus was on the golden boxing glove chain that was around his neck.

Yoongi’s old necklace.

When the two of you entered your shared apartment the story of what had gone down just hours before was all over the place. The space is messy littered with broken objects that you’d thrown around in a fit. Before you could finish making your way over to the kitchen to grab the broom Namjoon grabbed your wrist stopping you.

“We’ll clean it up tomorrow. Come on,”

Sitting down on the bed Namjoon pulled you a top of him. Your legs spread on either side of his body. “Didn’t think you would come,” 

“Called Jimin last minute. He rushed me over.”

“How come?”

You shrugged sucking in a sniffle. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of you being in that ring thinking all that shit I said was true. I didn’t mean it Joon. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Namjoon, as understanding as ever nodded his head. “Baby I know you didn’t. I know you were just angry and you had every right to be.” That made you cry. You never would understand what you’d done in life to be able to call someone like Namjoon yours.

Gingerly grabbing your brown cheeks between his palms, Namjoon pulled you in for a kiss. The remnants of dried metallic blood danced on your tongue. It reminded you of your first kiss. How the scars made his lips rough and how swollen they felt against yours. You should’ve been used to this but for some reason, it all felt so foreign. Haven got so used to your new normal you’d completely pushed down the old one.

The staying up to the wee hours of the morning wondering if he was going to be okay, sometimes having to patch him up or force him to go to the hospital when things looked too bad.

“Come on,” Namjoon hushed pulling you back in. “Stay with me,”

Flipping the two of you over he laid you down on your back. His hands instantly falling to the hem of your leggings as he pulled the tight fabric off of you. Namjoon’s lips found yours once again, a soft gasp-like breath leaving your mouth as you felt the outline of his hardening cock pressing against your lower belly. Freeing you from the confines of his hoodie Namjoon latched onto your neck, his mouth sucking hard at the exposed skin as his fingers slowly trailed down your stomach and to the place you needed him most.

It was crazy. How with just a mere touch from him you were soaked. Panties clinging desperately to your sodden pussy. Letting out a low chuckle Namjoon pulled his fingers from your panties showing you the slick digits. “Thought you said you hated me?”

Letting out a whine you rolled your eyes. “Please,” You quietly begged. You knew Namjoon was just trying to make light- show you in his own little way that he wasn’t mad at you, but you couldn’t do it tonight. You didn’t want to relive any of the shit you’d said to him.

Sliding from off of you Namjoon laid down on his side while pulling your thigh up onto his hip so that now the two of you were laying down on the bed facing each other. Pushing his hand back between your bodies his fingers made their way back into your panties- the calloused tips rubbing against your sensitive clit.

One by one he pushed his middle and ring finger into your needy hole. Forcing another low gasp from your mouth as you leaned forward burying your face into the crook of his neck. Namjoon kept a slow pace. Dragging his fingers in and out, ever so slightly curving the digits to rub them against that little spot that always made you lose it.

“You know I love you,” Namjoon breathed against your neck. You nodded. “I was always gonna come back to you. Nothing could keep me away from you.”

Your body writhes, your right hand flying up wanting to tangle into Namjoon’s dark locks but there was nothing there. Just like it was when you’d first met him his hair was once again completely buzzed leaving him with practically little to nothing. So instead, you settle for grasping at the back of his neck, practically fucking yourself onto the digits, your hips having a mind of their own as they rolled and jerked.

You wanted nothing more than to say something back, tell Namjoon how much you loved him too but you couldn’t. The pleasure over taking your body so much that the only thing you could do was let out low swears followed by the call of his name. It always embarrassed you how just with a few touches Namjoon could have you speechless and clinging to his body in desperation.

You could hear the wetness. Your slick undoubtedly leaving the bed sheets along with your inner thighs a mess. “Look at me,” Namjoon mumbled a faint smile filling his lips as you followed his command. “You know I like looking at you when you cum.”

Namjoon’s fingers sped up. The squelches from your pussy fill the quiet room. “Shit,” You swore. That familiar feeling rising up in your lower belly. You could feel your legs tightening up, the heel of your foot pressing into the back of Namjoon's calf.

“That’s right. Let go for me baby,” You don’t need to be told twice. Your vision crossing a little as your body shudders against his. “There we go. Always so pretty. My pretty baby,” Namjoon encourages his fingers not letting up even for a moment as he fucks you through your orgasm. It feels like forever before he finally pulls away, shoving the slick digits into his mouth.

Pulling away for just a moment Namjoon sits up and pulls his own hoodie off. Even though you know it's against your better interest you can’t help but look. His bare chest was exposed showing all of the bruises that littered his once clear skin. They were everywhere. There wasn’t a bare piece of skin that didn’t have Do Yoon’s dirty prints on it. “nuh uh—” Namjoon murmurs tilting your chin up. “Don’t look at that. Look at me. Just stay here with me,” Kissing your tears away Namjoon rolled the two of you over so that he was back on top of you. In one swift movement, he pulled down his gym shorts and boxers allowing his thick cock to spring free from its previous confinements.

Grabbing the length, Namjoon began to pump it, smearing the creamy white beads that’d spurted from the tip into the rest of the skin. “Joon,” You breathed needily, your cunt throbbing desperately in your panties. Even though your boyfriend just shushed you he didn’t tease much longer, the head of his cock pressing into your pussy slowly splitting you open.

Despite Namjoon’s thrusts being slow they were hard. Each push knocking the wind out of you as you begged for more. Dipping his head down Namjoon wrapped his full lips around your brown nipple suckling the pebble into his mouth.

“Right there,” You moaned, eyes fluttering closed at the overwhelming sensations that racked through your body. Letting go of your nipple Namjoon’s face falls onto your shoulder, low grunts and groans falling from his lips with every thrust.

“Fucking love you,” Namjoon whispers so low that you weren’t even sure he’d meant to say it out loud. Wrapping your legs around his lower back, you pull him deeper into you, making a low hiss fall from Namjoon’s mouth as you accidentally press into a bruise.

“’m sorry,” you slur out.

“S’okay,” He grumbles kissing your collar blade, his wet tongue dragging across the skin. Pulling away Namjoon looked down at you, a small smile filling his face as he stared. Even though he didn’t say anything you knew exactly what he was feeling because you felt the same. The happiness. The relief. Although Namjoon had given promises of winning before he left the two of you both knew very well the fight could’ve gone either way.

Gradually his eyes drifted downward, first falling on your bouncing breast but then inevitably ending on your belly causing tears to fill his eyes. This time you pull him out of it, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him down for a kiss. “Lemme ride you,” you say.

With a nod of his head, Namjoon changed positions causing you to let out a lower whimper. He always felt so fucking deep in this position, like his cock was right in your stomach. “Shit—” Namjoon’s eyes got wide. “do you think we’re gonna—”

“Joon—” You cut him off with a laugh already knowing what he was about to ask. “You’re big but you're not that damn big. Just give me a minute.” You finish a moan tumbling for your lips as you roll your hips just a bit to help get used to the stretch.

Instead of placing your hands on his chest you lean back grasping his thighs, eyes fluttering close as you rock back and forth. Namjoon’s hands found purchase on your waist helping you grind a little bit faster, his hips rising a little to match your movements. Lifting yourself up you drop back down, the loud sound of skin slapping together filling the room as you repeat the movements.

“Don’t think I gonna last—” Namjoon chokes out. “feel too fucking good.”

You nod your head in agreement, already feeling the sensation building. “Just a lil faster baby.” Namjoon whimpers. “I need a little more,”

As you follow his directions, Namjoon’s head falls back. His lips forming into a ‘o’ as his eyebrows furrow together. He was almost there and so were you. Reaching down you rub fast circles onto your clit, your body shaking as your orgasm hits you hard. It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to follow, a loud groan escaping him as his cum paints your inner walls white.

The two of you pant, barely allowing the other to catch a breath before you find your lips on each other once again. Carefully you slide off him and fall to the side. Wrapping his arms back around you Namjoon pulls you in once more. His hand finds rest on your belly rubbing at the barely there bump as his eyes flutter close.

“Don’t know what I would do without you,” You whisper.

“And I don’t want to find out.”

⤑ A/N: I really loved writing this couple and I kinda wanna write the prequel to how they met and also Jungkook and Yoongi's story. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[j1mmys-darl1ng]

.ೃ࿐the bad touch.ೃ࿐

Pairing : Tate Langdon x fem! Reader

Content : smut with basically no plot

warnings : kinda rough sex?, use of y/n, NOT PROOFREAD!

A/n : this is not the smut that was meant to be written but i heard the song and decided to make a fic about it 😓. I am still writing the other its just hard to thing of how to

This is my first time actually writing smut so i apologise for how poorly written it is and if some wordings seem silly, i couldn't keep a straight face at all

SEXUAL CONTENT! IF YOU ARE BELOW THE AGE OF 18 AND REAS THIS, THAT IS YOUR FAULT NOT MINE!!

Mere minutes ago, you and tate were just sat on your bed, listening to music on your record player until a certain song came on and things began to get... Heated. Skip to now, you were straddling tates lap while both of you took turns removing items of eachothers clothes as the tune blasts from your record player, your lips staying connected as much as they can.

'I want you smothered, want you covered Like my Waffle House hash browns'

Your hands matted in his hair as he trails harsh kisses and nips at your neck,his hands trailing down to your shorts and unbuttoning them at a messy pace. you both are fully naked within seconds, him laying you down on the mattress as he slides down your body, his hands following down to your thighs.

You were already soaked and eager, squirming once you feel two of Tates fingers slip into your hole, stretching you out imediately.

"holy shit Tate" you manage to breathe out, your hands balling the material of your bed into your fists as he doesn't waste a single second. His digits pump in and out of you, curling inside of you right against your 'special spot'.

You push his hand away, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge the faster he goes with his skilled fingers. He looks up at you with his big brown eyes tinted with confusion and slightly worry, hoping he didnt do anything wrong.

"i need you Tate. Right fucking now." you huff, pulling him up by his hair while a devious smirk spreads onto his lips. Your hand reaches out and picks up the headshell, dropping the needle back onto the record so the song restarts.

Without any warning, he slides into you, letting out a groan as he does so. His hands grip your hips, giving you a few seconds before his hips begin to move at a slow pace, quickly becoming a much faster pace once he knows your fine with it.

"Oh my god y/n. You feel so good!" he grunts as his balls slap against your ass with each sharp thrust, every single one hitting your g-spot.

'you and me baby, we aint nothin' but mammals so lets do it like the do on the discovery channel'

"im way too turned on by this holy shit!" Tate goans. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving deep crecent marks in place of them. Your legs wrapped around his waist, tilting your body upwards ever so slightly and giving him the perfect angle to continuously slam into your g-spot.

"T-tate, im gonna cum if you keep it up like that," you practically squeal, the shaky feeling in your legs getting more powerful. Within seconds your seeing stars, Tates thrusts not slowing down at all, his hips still relentlessly pounding into you. You feel your tight walls getting overstimulated, small whimpers slipping from your lips as tears prick your eyes.

"Agh! Fuck!" Tate grunts into your ear, soon pulling out and pumping his member. His sticky, warm ropes of semen making a mess on your stomach and breasts.

Tate collapsed down besides you, pulling you into a hug and taking a deep inhale of your hair, helping him come back down to earth.

"ew your sweaty!" you joke, letting out a small giggle as you wiggle around, trying to escape his tight and humid grasp.

"mmn.. I wanna smell your hair." i pouts playfully, hugging you tighter and burrying his face into your neck.

A/n: thank you to that one person that gave me the encouragement to make this!

Thanks for reading! <3

[deejadabbles]

My ding-ding-dong (Fives x Reader) Humor

Summary: after a bad week at work, your boyfriend just wants to make you breathless.

Rating: T+

A.N: Everyone please go read A Question of Seman-dicks by @dystopicjumpsuit it's hilarious and reading it this morning got me into writing gear to pop this insanity out! @freesia-writes I'm determined to help you make this kind of fic a thing 😂

Word Count: 962

Songs to ~set the mood~ Ding Dong Song by Gunther and Bad Touch by bloodhound gang

Warnings: crude humor, cursing, Fives being Fives, suggestive situations

“I swear to the maker, one of these days!”

Fives watched as you cleaned up the kitchen, putting dishes away in the most aggressive manner he had ever seen as you vented about your week. He wanted to reach out and rub your back in comfort, but the way you slammed the cabinet shut made him think better of it.

“And I know why he’s decided to start drama with me,” you continued, grabbing the knife you had used to cut up dinner, “it’s because I stood up to him, because I didn’t take his condescending, mansplaining, bantha-shit attitude and put him in his place when he tried it on me.” Despite being nowhere in striking distance, Fives still took a step back when you kept the knife in hand as you raged. “So now he’s determined to make me look bad- well game on, bitch! He hasn’t even seen my ugly side yet!”

Fives half expected you to impale the knife into the counter like a declaration of war, but thankfully, you just tossed it in the knife drawer and slammed it shut. Finally, when you ran your hands over your tired face, he closed the distance between you and put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, babe, he’s a shithead and doesn’t deserve you as a coworker.”

Warmth filled his chest when you leaned into him, melting at his touch as you blinked up to meet his eyes. ��No, I’m sorry,” you let out a defeated sigh, “your shore leave just started and here I am whining about work when I should be focused on you.”

He kissed the top of your head, “Stop that, mesh’la, you needed to vent, you were under a lot of stress this week. I would have held you sooner, but figured it was best to wait til you weren’t armed with serrated kitchenware.”

That made you chuckle a little and the warmth in his chest grew. He wanted to hear a proper laugh from you, a real one that might melt your troubles away.

Oh, that could work. He could practically see the light bulb that went off over his own head as an idea came.

“Hey,” he mumbled as he kept kissing the top of your head, “want me to make you forget your shitty week?”

You turned in his arms, an interested, knowing smirk on your pretty mouth, “Oh, I’d love that, handsome.”

Making sure to put on his best smolder, he took your hand and guided you across your apartment until you got to the bedroom. “Just lay back, beautiful, I’m going to make you howl,” he said, choosing his words very carefully.

The way you raised a brow just a little said you caught it, but you sat on the bed all the same. He followed, pecking your lips as he gently pressed your back to the mattress.

"I'm gonna make you feel soooo good, sweetheart," he said running his hands up your sides in a way that had you biting your lip.

He couldn't wait to have you gasping from the words his mind was thinking up. Just a little more teasing to set the mood...

Fives trailed his mouth down your neck, then back up to your ear, nipping it before he whispered, “Are you ready?”

“Yes-”

“Ready for my trouser snake?”

You choked instantly.

“Wut?”

Fives leaned back, smile bright as he rolled his hips dramatically, “Come on, baby, my man meat is right here.”

That’s when the nervous chuckles started, “ ‘Man meat?! What are you-?”

“My love sausage is ready to serve.”

“Oh my god!”

He rubbed his thighs in a mock of a seductive pose, “You know my little soldier is standing at attention for you!”

That’s the one that had you busting out in a full laugh, double funny considering there was nothing ‘little’ about Fives.

“You can ride my disco stick aaaalllll night!”

Your hand flew up to cover your face as the laughter became more ragged, the other hand holding your side. Oh, Fives wasn’t done yet, not even close!

He started fumbling with his belt in exaggerated movements, “Let me just unleash my custard launcher.”

“Custard- Fives STOOOOP!” it came out a wheeze, and he saw some tears of joy collecting in the corner of your eyes.

“What?” he leaned over you again caging you with his arms as he looked you over, “I thought you loved my massive king kong dong!”

You couldn’t form words anymore, just slapping weakly at his chest as you tried to draw breath into your lungs between strained laughter. Now to move in for the kill.

“My tallywacker,” he leaned in closer, dropping his voice, “my wiener,” then lips to your ear and in his most seductive tone, “my ding-a-ling.”

When you shoved at him, Fives pulled back, smiling at his handy work as you rolled over, clutching your sides and trying to breathe through the delighted wheezing. Well, you certainly weren’t thinking about work now, and Fives thought a smug ‘mission accomplished’ to himself as the fit continued.

He watched as your breathing started to even out, a few happy tears wetting your cheeks, smile bright, eyes alight.

“Damn, you’re beautiful when you laugh,” he said and this time, his tone was completely genuine.

Now that you could finally form coherent thoughts again, you rolled onto your back again and grinned at him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I have a man who makes me laugh.”

He couldn’t help it, he dove in and kissed you, long and deep this time, loving, doting. Kriff, he adored you.

“Thank you,” a content whisper against his lips, “you always make me feel better.”

“Can’t be a perfect boyfriend without skills like that,” he hummed, then, “now, are you ready to get breathless for a whole different reason?”

You threw your arms around him giggling as you pulled him in for another kiss, “Please.”

.

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

[sheree-says-stuff]

What are your favorite South Park headcanons? 🖖🏻

It took me ten million years to respond to this because I don't really have SP headcannons (besides my AU fics) so I had to make a list!

ALSO THANK YOU FOR ASKING, I LOVE GETTING ASKS!!!!

Kyle

i'm an average-height kyle truther. he's no shorter than 5'9" but no taller than 5'11".

horror movie fanatic but probably threw up while watching midsommar (and never finished it).

^ also a giant Scream fan. owns so much ghostface merch.

probably chubby.

straight as a board. he is so heteronormative, it's not even funny.

favorite bands are Bloodhound Gang and Insane Clown Posse but his guilty pleasure is Conan Gray (and cartman makes fun of him for it)

insomniac. bro CANNOT sleep ‼️

Kenny

tall kenny is the only valid take for me. he is 6'2" for sure and he uses his height to be intimidating when he wants to be.

when he's older, he moves to Italy with Cartman (don't ask how either of them afford it, just go with it)

he for sure writes fics about himself on a burner account.

is really good at school without having to study. naturally quick to learn.

is straight but will do anything for money (hey, $20 is $20!)

can talk to the dead and/or supernatural. can tell when ghosts are around.

COVERED in scars

Stan

short and skinny. i'm talking 5'6".

idkw but i imagine him being mexican, or at least partially mexican.

chronically depressed (and probably has OCD) but not an alcoholic or substance user.

hates weed because he grew up on a weed farm.

you cannot convince me that he doesn't watch Family Guy.

will sleep anywhere in any position.

closeted bisexual.

Cartman

is really good at playing instruments, becomes a famous lead singer in a pop band

is actually really intelligent but refuses to apply himself in school.

sent to boarding school, came back unrecognizable

football player, probably a quarterback

i really like the intersex cartman theory

doesn't believe in evolution or science

probably has a lot of trauma

Other characters:

Butters is blind in one eye from the Weapons episode

Butters is also extremely Type A as he grows up

Wendy, Heidi, Nicole, and Bebe don't have social media for feminist reasons

Jimmy can rap better than Eminem

Tweek loves true crime but is scared of FNaF

the only person who loves b@relyhuman more than Tweek is Craig

[fruitybashir]

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

i do still think kris and bojan both forgetting about valentines day was pretty hilarious but ill be honest, i think the most recent fic title is the funniest ive done. at least im having a good laugh about it

like the whole song as a vibe but then especially that line as title bc its so fitting its just. exactly my kinda humour lol

also shoutout to @itskrejsaitsparty bc i was contemplating fic titles til the very last second and was like haha would it be funny if i used that song and then we both simultaneously thought of the same line like--- fate

[chaos-monkeyy]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Tagged by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, thank you!! 😍 I so love a good excuse to look at ✨stats✨, this was really fun!

AO3 writing stats

215,218 words over 96 fics (including collabs 💕)

Average of 2,241 words per fic

Also this year I broke 1 million lifetime words on AO3 🎉

I wrote at least one fic in every category! (in order from most to least: M/M, Multi, F/M, Other, Gen, F/F)

Top 5 works by kudos

That thing (Venom)

Sweet Silence (OFMD)

Take me to bed (Good Omens)

Ease the Need (Venom)

Kept Waiting (Loki series)

Fandoms

I wrote for 15 different top-level fandoms, or 25 if I break it down into sub-fandoms:

Baldur's Gate III

Cosmere - Mistborn, Stormlight Archive, Sunlit Man, Warbreaker

Cytoverse / Skyward

Dresden Files

Echoes

Good Omens

Legend of Vox Machina

MCU - Loki series, Venom

Original Works

Our Flag Means Death

RPF - Bloodhound Gang

Sandman

Star Trek - Strange New Worlds, Discovery

Star Wars - Andor, SWtoR, Thrawn series + Thrawn Ascendancy trilogy

Stargate SG1 + Atlantis

Witcher

Most-written fandoms:

Stormlight Archive (29)

Stargate Atlantis (15)

Star Trek Strange New Worlds (10)

Stargate SG1 (9)

Tags and more

Most-written characters:

John Sheppard (13)

Evan Lorne (11)

Chris Pike (10)

Adolin Kholin (8)

Most-written ships:

Evan Lorne / John Sheppard (9)

Loki / Mobius (6)

OMC/OMC (5)

..annnd then it's a five-way tie 😂 3 fics each for Ronon Dex / John Sheppard; Cam Mitchell / John Sheppard; Shallan Davar / Adolin Kholin; Kaladin / Teft; Renarin Kholin / Teft

Top Additional Tags:

Blow Jobs (16)

Masturbation (14)

Alcohol, Age Difference, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot all tied for third place (11)

Ratings breakdown:

Explicit (71)

Mature (12)

Teen+ (8)

Gen (5)

--

Tagging @trainofcommand because I know how you feel about stats and excuses for graphs and such 😏 And anyone else who sees this and wants to do one too! Copying the rules / guidelines from my tagger:

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

[neveralarch]

deepest apologies but I have a burning question about one of your fic series— does the title for “If you, among the armies of Holofernes,” reference a specific work/piece of media? It’s a line that’s lived in my head for ages. Thank you!

hey sorry for the late reply on this! this was a dez title so i had to ask her:

and then she tracked it down to if on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino :) this is how you can tell its a dez title bc like half of my titles are either lyrics from ICP or Bloodhound Gang

[jackassbrainrot]

tongue tied [bam x jenn x jimmy]

desc: jimmy teaches bam how to eat pussy

a/n: this is the fic I said no one but me would enjoy and I fully believe that but it's been in my head for literal days. Inspired by the many bloodhound gang songs about oral. weirdly enough, in a fic about eating out a woman, Jenn is kind of not important here, it's a very Jimmy centric fic.

warnings: oral sex, cucking sort of maybe, d/s dynamics, under negotiated kinks, very weird relationship dynamics

Jimmy was, what he would call, a proud pussy connoisseur. Contrary to the usual rockstar stereotype, he loved making his partners cum more than he cared about his own release. It made him feel powerful, the feeling of a woman shaking under him, moaning out his name as she desperately dug her nails into his skin or pulled his hair. And what he loved most of all was feeling the wetness spread across his lips, lapping it up with his tongue until he had them squirming from overstimulation.

So when Jenn joked about how Bam could learn something from him after one of Bloodhound gang's shows, he offered to teach him without a second thought. Jenn agreed, intrigued by the prospect, while Bam looked unsure, embarrassed by his own lack of experience but weirdly turned on by the idea. And that's how they found themselves in Bam and Jenn's room, Jenn sitting at the edge of their bed naked, her legs spread, Bam kneeling between them, shirtless, while Jimmy stood next to them, leaning on the bed, the only one fully dressed, nursing a beer in his hand.

Bam looked at him expectantly, those pretty blue eyes begging for instructions, an embarrassed flush across his face. Jimmy loved seeing him like this, not in control for once in his life, and the thought of the MTV star obediently surrendering to his words sent his ego soaring and blood flowing to his dick. "Warm her up a bit." He said, taking a sip of his beer as he watched Bam press gentle kisses to the inside of his girlfriend's thighs, moving up slowly, fingers tracing her soft skin. Jenn ran a hand through his hair, silently praising him, looking almost like an owner petting their dog and Jimmy had to hide his smile behind his beer can.

Jimmy's eyes met Bam's again, the younger man's lips inching closer to his girlfriend's pussy, unsure of what to do next. "Kiss it." He commanded, his voice low, watching Bam obey immediately, still looking up at him. "Again." And he did, hearing Jenn let out a sigh, smiling against her and looking up to meet her half lidded eyes, before his eyes locked back on Jimmy. "Again." They kept going like that until Jimmy was satisfied with the desperate noises Jenn was making and the wet sound of Bam's kisses. He smiled, the thought of the younger man paying attention to him rather than his own girlfriend while eating her out made him feel like a god.

Jimmy finally moved from his position above the couple, slipping onto the bed behind Jenn, legs spread, pulling her up onto his lap. Bam stared up at them, mouth agape and dick growing ever harder, as Jenn turned her head to kiss Jimmy, not caring that her boyfriend was watching, while Jimmy teasingly ran his hands up her spread thighs. When they pulled away from the kiss, Jimmy looked down at Bam's flushed face, eyes flitting down to his painfully hard dick before meeting his eyes again. "Watch and repeat Bambam."

Jimmy's fingers fell between Jenn's legs, slowly moving his finger up and down, sliding through the wetness and spit before pulling it away, a frustrated noise leaving Jenn's mouth, quickly replaced by one of pleasure as Bam's tongue mirrored the older man's actions. "Keep going until I tell you to stop." Bam nodded, his head between their legs, lapping at his girlfriend's pussy. He felt his hair being pulled lightly, a trail of spit still connecting his lips to her pussy, eyes moving up to see it was Jimmy's hand that was coaxing him away.

"Pay attention." His tone was harsh, waiting for Bam to do as he was told before pressing the pads of his finger to Jenn's clit, light moans leaving her mouth as he rubbed circles on it slowly, teasingly. A drawn out moan of his name made him smile against her shoulder, pulling Bam's head forward by his hair to replace his fingers with his tongue. The room was filled with sounds of Jenn's moans and Bam's tongue eagerly licking her clit, and it was like music to Jimmy's ears, hearing her moan out his name instead of Bam's, the younger man either not noticing or not caring.

"Suck it." The words made Bam dizzy, imagining Jimmy saying that in a similar position to the one they were in now, but without another body between them. He did as he was told, sucking his girlfriend's clit, her moans getting higher and louder, body pressing to Jimmy's chest as her hips rocked forward to meet Bam's mouth. Jimmy pressed gentle kisses along her neck and jaw, his hand moving between her and Bam, sliding two fingers into her while keeping the younger man in place with the hand still in his hair, encouraging him to keep going as their movements made Jenn's body go taut, cumming on Jimmy's fingers, her juices dripping down her boyfriend's chin.

As she collected herself, she got off Jimmy's lap, lying down on the bed next to them, fucked out. Bam was still kneeling between Jimmy's spread legs, looking up at him with dazed blue eyes, when Jimmy slipped his wet fingers into his mouth. Jimmy couldn't hide the wicked smile that was spreading across his face as he watched Bam obediently clean his fingers, face glistening from spit, lips puffy, cock still hard in his pants.

"Next time, we should teach him how to suck dick." Jenn giggled, and neither man showed any sign of disagreement.

[cophene]

039 || ☆ ⁺ « NO REASON TO HESITATE.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them  a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3.6k+

★˚⋆ FUGO SEIZED THE CAPTAIN ROUGHLY by the collar and hauled them up, surprising himself with his own strength. Or rather, Fugo hauled up whoever was in the Captain's body. It remained to be seen whether it was actually the Captain or not.

The Captain groaned, their head lolling. Fugo shook them roughly, and only then did they lift their head. There was a trail of dried blood over one of their temples.

"Fugo?"

"Are you the Captain or not?" Fugo demanded. "Tell the truth. No more flacking lies."

"Of course I am—"

"Tell the truth," Fugo repeated harshly. He stared hard into the Captain's eyes. "Are you the Captain or not? We don't have time to flack around anymore."

It was only because Fugo was looking at the Captain so intently that he saw something melt from their eyes. Confusion slipping into resignation.

"How did you know?" Bruno asked.

Fugo let go of Bruno, his shoulders dropping. "The simplest explanation is usually the right one. It didn't make sense that an ability like Chariot Requiem's would leave two people unaffected. Especially because there were two of you. If it switched Polnareff and Coco Jumbo, there was no reason why you and the Captain wouldn't have been switched too. So that either meant there had been a fluke, or the two of you were lying."

Bruno drew a hand over his face, wincing. "We didn't mean—"

"You were trying to protect us, I know. Except your plan has unwittingly backfired because Zero has the Captain on his ship, thinking they're you. And you're here when we really need the Captain."

"But—"

"I'll explain to you again, because it wasn't really you I was talking to before. The Captain and the rest of the crew are under the influence of Zero's Stand. It manipulates their willpower, makes them more susceptible to whatever Zero wants them to do. The Captain is the one under the strongest influence. They've been fighting it, but something happened. Them going after the Stand Arrow like that was them giving in. Losing control. They are now completely under Zero's control, and won't hesitate to do anything he tells them.

"Right now, Zero thinks you're on his ship because of some vestiges of his power from when you were working for him, Bruno, but when he discovers it's really the Captain and his true hold over them..."

Bruno swore, closing his eyes. Fugo felt much the same. No one knew where Zero was willing to draw the line. He still didn't have the Stand Arrow, not with Chariot Requiem guarding it. There was no guarantee he wouldn't send the Captain out as his bloodhound to track down the crew and force them to get the Arrow for him.

It was a shitshow. The Captain would betray the crew with everyone thinking it was Bruno, while Bruno would be trying to hold things together as the "Captain".

"I've messed everything up, haven't I?" Bruno muttered.

"Things were messed up long before you got back. But you've exacerbated the situation, yes." Fugo found he was too tired to be truly angry at Bruno. He'd already spent most of his temper at the Captain, and Bruno's part in this predicament was small. He had been trying to help. He was always trying to help.

"Come on, we need to wake everyone else up," Fugo said, starting for the engine room. "The Captain has left us with a ship full of comatose crewmembers."

As they went about rousing everyone, Fugo wondered to himself why he was always stuck in this position. He was always dealing with the fallout, the aftermath. He was the one who had to fix everyone's mistakes, to set them back on course, to make everything right. It was exhausting. He shouldn't have been the only one capable of dealing with everyone's bullshit.

To be honest, whatever had led to Bruno's retreat from the crew, Fugo wouldn't have blamed him. Fugo had contemplated doing the same many, many times.

The crew didn't seem to realize just how much they put on his shoulders.

Once everyone had been rounded up on the bridge, Fugo took a minute to just study them all.

Their ragtag crew was even more ragtag than usual. Down a captain and a pilot. Technically, Abbacchio and Giorno weren't even a part of the crew, and Bruno had been gone for a long time. Not to mention Polnareff was stuck in Coco Jumbo's body and nibbling on a piece of carrot. Sheila was still unconscious, now restrained in one of the seats near the back with a gag in her mouth. She would give them hell once she woke up, but they could deal with that when it happened.

They were like a shoddily mended quilt, fraying at the edges.

As it turned out, other people's bodies were like ill-fitting clothes. Awkward and stiff and strange in all the wrong places. On top of looking exhausted and haggard, Passione looked intensely uncomfortable. Paranoid and too scared to make too much contact with anything.

"So does anyone want to explain why Bruno went absolutely berserk and shot me in the face?" Mista said.

"He shot you too?" Trish asked in a small voice.

"It was a Stand ability," Giorno said, because he seemed to have an answer for everything. "Maybe even a byproduct of Chariot Requiem."

"It doesn't seem likely," Polnareff responded. "Chariot Requiem isn't capable of targeting one person, especially not to possess them to charge after the Arrow."

The entire time, Fugo avoided looking at Abbacchio. It was uncanny to watch himself from a distance and he found he couldn't stand it.

"Where is Chariot Requiem?" Abbacchio asked.

"And where's Bruno?" Trish said.

Everyone looked at Fugo. Of course they did. Who else were they going to look at, Polnareff?

To his surprise, Bruno beat him to the punch.

"We're all under the influence of Zero's Stand," he said matter-of-factly. "That's why we even agreed to get the Arrow in the first place. Zero has been subtly controlling us, making sure we did what he wanted. And now Bruno has given in to his Stand completely, having no will of his own. He led Chariot Requiem onto Zero's ship in an attempt to get the Arrow to him. He's probably still on Zero's ship now."

Mista and Trish immediately began to protest. Which was to be expected, considering they were the only two people here still under Zero's control.

Not for the first time, Fugo struggled to recall the exact moment he had broken through the film of Zero's influence. He had been at the initial meeting with Zero, which meant he must have been affected. If the ability affected people in degrees, the effect on him must have been the weakest. If he had to make a guess, the talk with Rikiel must have snapped something.

Rikiel. Fugo didn't know if his plan with the Prince was still in motion. Neither of them had accounted for Donatello, which was a mistake. He could only hope Rikiel was doing what he could to keep Narancia out of Donatello's way.

"It makes sense," Polnareff was saying. "There's no other reason for why Bruno would have acted the way he did. In all the time I've known him, he has never changed his mind so drastically."

"But Zero would never do something like that!" Mista cried. "You can't just control people. We still have our own willpower, don't we? It's not like he's doing something right now?"

Abbacchio narrowed his eyes. "You're proving the point by defending him, you know."

Mista's head whipped toward him, his lips bared in a snarl. But a split second later, he seemed to remember himself and his eyes widened.

"Holy flack. You're right."

"What can we do to save Bruno?" Trish said, biting on her thumb. "We don't know what Zero will do to him. Or what Zero will make him do. What if ... what if Chariot Requiem switched his soul and Zero's?"

Abbacchio raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that what you wanted? For Zero's soul to switch with someone so you could have a scapegoat?"

"We wanted Sheila as the scapegoat. Not Bruno," Trish said.

"It's not Zero we have to deal with," Fugo said, even as Trish's words sank like a stone in his gut. "It's Chariot Requiem. We need to figure out a way to defeat it before doing anything to Zero. It's too risky to do anything while it's still walking around."

Giorno raised a hand. "Before we do anything, there's something I need to tell you all."

Fugo's eye twitched in annoyance. He preferred it when the Prince had been pretending to be a scared, timid space rat. He wasn't as bad as Donatello, but he still had that Upper Space gravitas that he couldn't fully shake off.

Even now, with Giorno no longer pretending to be JoJo or Narancia, he had no Upper Space accent. It was a strange thing to notice, but Fugo did.

"Narancia is going to be killed tomorrow."

If nothing else, Fugo could admire Giorno for his impeccable composure.

Trish blinked at him. Mista made a face. Abbacchio stared and Polnareff paused mid-chew. Bruno's face flitted through a few emotions before settling on wariness.

"I'm sorry, what?" Mista said.

Giorno's jaw tightened. "He informed me a few hours ago. I did what I could to guide him, but it was unfair of me to expect him to keep up with the demands of Imperial court. Narancia was unable to withstand the rigorous interrogation, even with my direction. Donatello sees him for what he is—an impostor. He thinks Narancia is a political impersonator, put in place to threaten Imperial security. Narancia is going to be executed for his crimes in twenty-four hours."

If there was ever a time to throw himself out the airlock, this was it, Fugo thought.

"Why are you only telling us this now?" Trish asked, her voice tightening into a shriek. "What are we going to do about that?"

"I'm not telling you this to worry you. I only wanted you to know."

"What do you mean, not worry?" Mista snapped. "The flack else are we going to do? Bruno's stuck on Zero's ship. We're being controlled by Zero's Stand. We have to kill Chariot Requiem and now Narancia's going to get killed!"

There was a flash of annoyance in Giorno's eyes. "As I said, I did not intend for you to worry. I detest repeating myself. I told you that because I have a plan.

"Sheila's ship is docked outside. I'll take it and board Zero's ship. If I can find Chariot Requiem's weakness, I will return with both Bruno and the Stand Arrow. Zero will be dealt with."

"You say all of that as though you'll be able to do it," Abbacchio said.

"I will be able to," Giorno said.

"Right, you against a guy who can manipulate your willpower and a Stand that redirects all of your attacks and swaps your soul," Mista deadpanned.

"I don't mean to be arrogant, but I have a higher chance of success than any of you. You don't know the true capabilities of Gold Experience, and I have had extensive training to deal with situations like this."

I am an Imperial Prince and I am insulted you don't think I can do this, was what Fugo heard.

"Your Highness, are you sure you're going to be capable of identifying Chariot Requiem's weakness?" Polnareff asked carefully. "You'll be under intense pressure."

Giorno smiled, and for a second, Fugo almost saw the cunning Crown Prince.

"I'm always under intense pressure."

Fugo snorted and Giorno glanced at him sidelong.

"I understand what you're saying, however, Polnareff," Giorno said. "It's just that the less people on board Zero's ship, the better. With your permission, I'd like to take you with me."

No sooner had Polnareff acquiesced that Giorno scooped him up and went to the maintenance door.

"Wait, you're actually going to go?" Mista said, shooting to his feet. "You're going to get killed! Er, Your Highness."

Giorno ignored him. Everyone on the bridge looked at each other, then followed after him. They made it all the way to the maintenance door, Giorno picking up Sheila's discarded helmet to twist over his head.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," Giorno said, as though this were a pleasant errand. "Prepare medical supplies and healing pods. I'll require direct transport to the Palaceship afterwards."

Trish shook her head. "We're coming with you."

"That would make things significantly more difficult."

"Don't care," Mista said. "Bruno's one of the crew and so we're going to rescue him. We gotta stick together, right, Captain?"

Fugo and Bruno exchanged a glance. While it would be easier to just let Prince Giorno fly to Zero's ship himself, Mista was right. Even if no one else was aware it was really the Captain in Bruno's body, their sense of loyalty was inextricable.

Besides, what else was there to do on the ship besides sit on their asses? They would be of no help to Narancia until everyone was back in their respective bodies. Giorno would never be able to convince anyone of his identity otherwise.

"It's going to be a tight squeeze," Bruno said.

It was more than a tight squeeze. It was nearly as bad as when everyone had squeezed into the escape pod back at the Penitentiary. Except Fugo didn't even have the luxury of being his own body, which made the experience infinitely more awkward.

Somehow, in the tangle of bodies, Giorno was having no problem navigating Sheila's small cruiser. Maybe he really had been trained for situations like this one. In fact, he had no problem doling out instructions as though he were on the bridge of a ship ten times larger. And he was also working on the ship's console to cloak the cruiser at the same time.

It was beyond strange to see Narancia acting even half-competent.

"Once we get onto Zero's ship, everyone will split up. Don't approach Zero, and don't approach Bruno. There's nothing we can do about either of them, so I suggest you don't try. Focus on finding Chariot Requiem as soon as possible. If you do, notify myself and Polnareff. Does everyone have a holopad?"

A scattering of yes's.

"Make sure to cloak its signal. Do not draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. Remember that Chariot Requiem is our primary objective."

Fugo couldn't help glowering at the back of Giorno's head. He enjoyed commanding people around entirely too much. It made him wonder how Giorno had managed to keep his mouth shut all that time pretending to be JoJo.

"I don't know if anyone has said this yet, but why don't you just command Zero to stop whatever he's doing?" Mista asked Giorno.

"Unfortunately it's not that easy. Zero is indirectly a very large proponent of the Imperial family. He has a hand in many of our funds and to expose him would inevitably lead to exposing the Imperial families' dealings with him. Not only that, Zero also supports many prominent Upper Space families. We would look like hypocrites. It's much easier to pin him for a crime."

"Have you considered the possibility that you might die on Zero's ship?" The question coming from Abbacchio held no malice. His voice was even, genuinely curious.

"I could have died any number of times before this," Giorno said. He tapped the console one last time. "I'm choosing to believe that if I'm still alive, the stars are giving me a chance, at least."

The stars. Fugo wanted to know what they could have to do with anything, letting the galaxy go to shit the way they did. He had never prayed to them before and he wasn't about to start now.

They docked against Zero's ship easily, seeing as Sheila's ship already had cleared access. They were practically spilling out of the ship already, but Giorno stopped everyone before they began boarding.

"I want you all to know that whatever happens, my goal is ultimately the Stand Arrow," he said, his gaze hooded. "Whatever happens to Bruno or all of you is ... secondary."

Fugo had to physically bite down on his anger.

"You might be a Prince but we don't have any particular loyalty to you," he said in a low, seething voice. "Whatever happens to you will also be secondary."

And even though it was too crowded to see everyone directly, Giorno still found a way to meet Fugo's gaze. What Fugo saw instead of the anger he had been expecting made a chill run down his spine.

Giorno smiled. A knowing, knife-sharp grin that didn't belong on Narancia's face.

"Good. I'm glad we're in agreement."

The Captain enjoyed the toffees that littered Zero's ship. They were light and fluffy, with just the perfect amount of sweetness. Their vision went blurry around the edges after a few of them, and it became so much easier to ignore the stabbing pain and blood pooling on the ground.

Zero had not moved from his seat since the Captain had stumbled onto their ship. They had barely missed a direct hit from Chariot Requiem, one that doubtless would have punched a hole clean through their middle. They threw down the Arrow in front of them and fell to their knees, coughing and gasping up bloody bile.

Chariot Requiem went smoothly to reclaim the Arrow, oblivious to its new surroundings. Zero had stood by impassively, the edges of dark robes fluttering as Chariot Requiem passed by him. He had not run after the Arrow. He had not helped the Captain to their feet. It seemed that being in such close proximity to the Arrow had frozen something in him, rendering him cold and unexpressive.

The Captain lifted their head, and Zero grimaced slightly. They didn't seem to be aware of the way their eye was melting into their cheek or the way their jaw was starting to stretch grotesquely.

"Clean yourself up," he commanded, and turned away.

Later, the Captain found Zero on the bridge. He did not look up as they entered, his gaze pinned to the surveillance footage in front of him, following Chariot Requiem's movements intently as it moved from screen to screen. The gold Arrow glinted against the chrome and metal, conspicuous everywhere it was. Despite that, Zero made no move to retrieve it.

The Captain was exhausted and in intense pain. But that did not bother them nearly as much as Zero's cold reception. They wished he would turn around. Look at them. Speak to them. Acknowledge them in some way.

"Have a taffy," he said after a while. "It will make things easier."

Thrilled, the Captain immediately took one from a nearby tray. Not long after, they slid down the wall and sat on the floor, gazing lazily at Zero as he continued to scrutinize Chariot Requiem.

Zero was neither tall nor broad nor particularly imposing. His shoulders hunched and his wrists, when they peaked out from under his robes, were thin and pale. His voice was thinner than it was over the holocalls.

But nonetheless, the Captain drank him in hungrily. Memorized his movements and his presence.

They had never been able to tell, but Zero had dark, curling hair. The Captain wished they could remove his mask so they could see what colour his eyes were. They were a little drunk, of course, of taffy, but also on the thrill of being so close to Zero.

The Captain did not know how long they sat against the wall, staring at Zero. They would have sat there forever if it was what Zero wanted. They only thought fleetingly about the Stand Arrow and whether or not Zero might want them to pursue it in some way.

Finally, Zero addressed the Captain. An electric zing went down their spine at the sound of his voice.

"Bruno, do you know why I desire the Stand Arrow?"

"No, sir." The Captain scrambled to their feet, even as blood rushed to their head.

Zero turned, the light from the screen outlining the edge of his mask. "What do you know about Requiem?"

"Requiem, sir?"

"Indeed. The ability to evolve one's Stand after it has been pierced by the Stand Arrow. It is granted immense power and imparted a consciousness of its own. The potential of such a Stand would be limitless."

Zero strode over to Bruno. Stopped a few feet away from him.

"Of course, that is the preferred outcome. I could just as well end up with a Stand like Chariot Requiem. And that would be ... disappointing."

Zero's gaze was intense, even through the mask. The Captain found they couldn't speak.

"It seems to me that the solution here is simple. We simply don't know enough about what will happen. There's not enough information. So we will have to gather more."

Zero leaned closer to the Captain. "I want you to pierce your Stand with the Arrow."

"S-sir?"

"It's the only way to figure out the Arrow's abilities for certain. My Stand's abilities are too volatile to test. But yours are simpler. If Requiem works for your Stand, it will work for mine. Do you understand?"

The Captain blinked. Something tugged on their chest, hard and insistent. "You want me to pierce my Stand with the Stand Arrow, sir?"

Zero tilted his head. Waited.

There was no reason to hesitate. It was a direct command from Zero. All there was was to do it.

I will pierce my Stand with the Stand Arrow.

I will pierce my Stand with the Stand Arrow because that is what Zero wants.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

[aquilaafterdark]

Square: B2: Bestiality Title: Ain't Nothin' But Mammals Rating: E Word Count: 1,121 Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags:  Crack Treated Seriously, Inspired by Music, Chores, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, Crimes against feather dusters, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary: Dream arrives at Hob's apartment to say hello, but finds himself aurally assaulted by raunchy music. He learns that this is Hob's chore playlist, finding him dusting in the bedroom. Dream has no interest in doing chores, but does want to do Hob. Thanks, Bloodhound Gang!! Link: On AO3

NB: No actual bestiality in this fic, not even discussion of the act.

@dreamlingbingo

[aquilathefighter]

Aquila's Fic Masterpost!

Here's a quick reference to all of my Dreamling fic!

Writing tag: #aquila writes

Ananke, God of Compulsion | Mature | Incomplete | 11,002 words

Lieutenant Hob Gadling is planning on deserting before his deployment. He has everything planned from faking his death to getting to the US. However, a wrench is thrown into his plan when Captain Morpheus Endeleas asks him to be his assistant for the week leading up to the company’s deployment. Now under close watch by a man Hob thinks despises him, he cannot escape his duty. What will come from a week working closely with Cpt. Endeleas?

Hold Me Closer | Teen | Complete | 26,471 words

Fluffbruary 2023 prompts! Just some soft and happy dreamlings because I can't hit them with a hammer all the time.

Smapril Showers Bring Smutty Flowers | Explicit | Incomplete | 7, 148 words

Smapril 2023 fills, prompts by staroftheendless A variety show of Dreamling smut, in whatever universes come to mind.

Dreamling Bingo Fills

Watching You Dance | Explicit | Complete | 347 words

Hob has a side job as a stripper. He invites Dream to come watch him, knowing that his boyfriend's possessive streak will be activated when he's surrounded by the lustful daydreams of the patrons. 2023 Dreamling Bingo Fill for #DB215 square E5: Stripping Smapril Day 3 Prompts: Possessive | "Come over here."

Earl Grey, or: the Tiny Grey Cat | General Audiences | Complete | 768 words

Dream ends up in Hob's flat a bit before the man actually arrives, and meets a new addition to Hob's living space: a kitten! The King of Cats talks to the young kitten and finds out that children of all kinds are poor keepers of their caregivers' secrets. When Hob arrives, Dream and the kitten are formally introduced and Dream is forced to relax for once in his life. Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 April Monthly Prompt: Adoption replacing Square E4

Ain't Nothin' but Mammals | Explicit | Complete | 1,121 words

Dream arrives at Hob's apartment to say hello, but finds himself aurally assaulted by raunchy music. He learns that this is Hob's chore playlist, finding him dusting in the bedroom. Dream has no interest in doing chores, but does want to do Hob. Thanks, Bloodhound Gang!! Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 Square B2: Bestiality NB: No actual bestiality in this fic, not even discussion of the act. (See notes!)

Swashbuckling Fantasie | Teen | Incomplete | 1,344 words

Boatswain Hob Gadling is a pirate obsessed with a different kind of treasure: stories. He goes looking for fantastical tales at every port and bothers his crewmates daily for them. When he is told of a merman who lives in a dreamlike cove who is the greatest storyteller ever, he has no choice but to seek him out. He meets this mysterious man who transports Hob to a realm of his own, where Hob can seek out new adventures and create a story of his own. But between the adventures and Hob's persistence, this misanthropic merman begins to see humans in a new light, falling deeper and deeper for his pirate. Chapter 1 fulfills the Dreamling Bingo Monthly Prompt "MerMay," replacing #DB215 Square E1: Rape/Non-con!

I just really, desperately want to be your next poor decision | General Audiences | Complete | 210 words

Dream asks why Hob has done everything he has done in the interim since 1889. Hob tells him and makes a (what he deems) subtle love confession. Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 June Monthly Prompt: "Why did you do it?" replacing Square E3: Stargate

Hunger for the Blade | Explicit | Complete | 1,535 words

Hob had thought it would be a good idea to ask Dream to spar during their weekly Dreaming date night. How hard could it be, he’d thought. I have centuries of experience. What he’d forgotten, he’s now learning, is that his lover has millennia of experience. That he contains every single swordsman’s dreams since swords were invented on top of the glut of fictional swordplay. That had been his first mistake. His second was the bet they’d made: the winner gets to have the loser in whatever way they’d like. -- Or, a sparring match turns into a very messy blowjob. Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 Square E2: Knife Play

[69bitterbeingz]

IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 7

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DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, piss [non sexual], prescription drugs, alcohol mention

ao3 version

The warm morning sun started to filter through your slightly agape curtains, fanning over the bed where you lay; held to your ear was your landline phone, fighting through the tired haze in your head to focus on the conversation.

“ What’s the problem? From what I hear, you all get along very well.” Unlike you, Ville’s voice was fresh as a daisy - damn 10 hour time difference. Exhausted, you wiped your face as if trying to wipe away your eyebags. 

“Yea, no we get on, that’s not…” You sighed, rolling over on the bed so you could rest your chin on the pillow. “It’s all just weird you know? It’s all happened quite fast…”

“ I think you’re used to being lonely.”

“Wow, just say it why don’t you?”

Ville chuckled. “ You told me yourself, the only friends you had before LA came with you. Just go with it, you’ll get used to it.” It felt a little dismissive, but ultimately, he had a point. You just needed to throw yourself into it, embrace being with people. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?

…You seemed to be saying that a lot lately. 

“Yeah… you’re right. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for me to be so reluctant, I’ve had more fun in the last month than in… ever .”

“ Just remember that. Besides, you’ve already gotten your plane ticket, right?”

You glanced at the envelope on the bedside table, sucking the air through your teeth. “Ah. Yeah.”

“ Then you don’t have a choice. ”

“They’re gonna destroy my parent’s place, Ville.”

He laughed over the phone, broken by the crackles of the line, and you snickered into the pillow. This was going to be a fucking mess.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Mila was leaning against your doorway again, watching you shove clothes into a suitcase; he does that, likes to observe and make smartass comments. He clicked his tongue, immediately putting you in a bad mood.

“Your flight’s when again?”

“Shut it.”

“2 hours, right?”

“Why the fuck did you ask if you know?”

“And you’re getting picked up in 10 minutes, right? Have I got that?”

Your head snapped to the side and you summoned the most venomous glare you could. He smiled, you scowled. “I’m gonna tell Dan to muzzle you.”

“Wow. Ok. What a concept.” Why did he say it like that? You don’t want a glimpse into their personal life . The blonde decided to wander into the room and leaned over your shoulder, and you had half a mind to elbow him in the ribs. “You do remember why we moved out to LA, right?” That was an odd question, especially when you needed to be out the house in very little time . Nonetheless, it was easier to follow his train of thought.

“Yeah for the band, work on music, make connections.” You summarised it mindlessly, throwing in your toiletries and smacking the suitcase shut. Mila hummed.

“Couldn’t help but notice you’re not doing much band shit . Hanging out with idiots, partying, trips to England.”

You cut off his whining as you threateningly held your hairbrush up to his face, startling him enough to jolt him backwards.

“Don’t start shit with me, you and Dan fucked off to Sicily for a week. I’m making connections! Hell, I’ve already met some big bands through Bam - the Bloodhound Gang.”

Mila looked downright offended. “ You met Bloodhound Gang and you didn’t tell me? ”

“Yeah, Jared says get fucked. Besides, being on the show is free publicity, if anything I’m doing more around here than you. When was the last time you plugged in a guitar, eh?” He didn’t respond, resigning himself to irate silence. With that, you jumped on the suitcase so it would be closed enough to zip up. “Now do me a favour and go bother someone–”

Ding dong!

“ Shitting hell.”

With the power of God and pure panic on your side, the suitcase zipped with little resistance, and you were down the stairs. Before you could rush out the door, Dan grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a quick hug.

“ Good luck .” He muttered, and lord knew you’d need it. You threw open the door to Johnny Knoxville, trademark shades hiding his deep brown eyes.

“You’re late.”

“Then what are you standing around for? C’mon.” 

Thankfully, it wasn’t Chris’ Toyota, but instead a very flash Cadillac Eldorado. For a moment, you totally forgot the hurry you were in, in favour of whistling at the car like a catcaller. What could you say? It was a pretty sexy car.

“How come I’ve never seen this before?”

“You think I’ll let those animals around my car? I was lucky enough to have it in the shop when Bam decided to throw that party.” 

You slid into the front passenger seat, revelling in the black leather interior. As much as you love your old ‘67 Dodge Charger, this was truly gorgeous. Johnny clearly took very good care of it. Your nerves calmed as you were finally on the road, though after hearing about Johnny’s penchant for falling asleep at the wheel [thanks Steve-O <3], you were a little wary of who was driving. No need to bring it up though, he was doing you a solid. Speaking of which–

“Thanks for driving me to the airport, wasn’t fair to take the car from my guys while we’re away.”

“Don’t sweat it, I was headin’ your way anyhow.”

“I could’ve called a cab.” You pointed out, running your finger over the polished frame of the open car window, but Johnny waved you off.

“Nah, no point, I’m happy to take ya.”

If he was happy to drive you then you were happy to ride. You automatically reached for the 8-track player like it was your car, but when he noticed you hesitate, he gave you the go ahead. The button was so damn satisfying to press, the second track of Ramones’ Rocket to Russia following the click. 

“I know she’s pretty but you don’t have to be that precious.” Johnny commented, flashing you a grin. “You’re allowed to press a button if you wanna.”

“I should get you to drive me more often.” You replied, and he chuckled.

“Oh good, I’ve always dreamed of being a chauffeur.”

The ride passed quicker than expected, between the good music and pleasant conversation. It was a lot less chaotic in a confined space with just one of the boys, but you guessed that was because there was no manic energy for him to feed off of. Once you pulled into LAX car park and a uniformed worker took the beautiful wonderful Eldorado to car storage, it was a bit of a blur. A mad dash - briefly interrupted when Johnny got held back by airport security for the mousetrap in his back pocket - all the way to the plane’s gate, surprisingly in time. You felt uneasy when you didn’t spot Chris and Steve-O immediately, and to be honest, even when they did show up you didn’t feel any better. There was something… off about them, Chris especially. He seemed to be dazed, looking around the airport like he’d never seen anything like it. You tugged the bottom of Johnny’s shirt, leaning over without taking your eyes off of Chris.

“Is it just me or is he out of it…?”

“Probably taken the pill already.”

“The–” Your head snapped to the side. “The pill? Hang on, he got pills through security?”

Johnny giggled and shook his head, “No, he gets sleeping pills from a doctor to get him through flights.”

That made much more sense, but it raised another question.

“Is it such a good idea to give Chris sleeping pills?”

He grinned with the whites of his teeth. “No.”

Chris stumbled forward and practically fell on you - not hugging you or anything, just kinda… leaning his weight on you. You gave Steve-O an awkward look but he snickered, content to let Chris do as he pleased. You cleared your throat.

“Hey Chris.”

It took him a second, but his arms came up to hang onto your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Heyyy. ” The dopey giggle that followed was adorable, but you were relieved that he didn’t fight when Steve grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him into an upright position. 

“Where’s Jeff?” Johnny asked as the four of you headed towards the gate. Steve-O shrugged. 

“Think he went ahead of us, we had some, uh… business in the bathroom.

You weren’t gonna pry, you were going to focus on getting through this flight in one piece instead, because the longer you watched Chris try to operate , the less hope you had. He managed to get through the passport check with little more than an odd look from the attendant, but from the way he kept bumping into the wall, you doubted he’d make it on his own. He clumsily turned towards you when you took his wrist and placed his arm over your shoulders.

“I’ll be real Chris, you’re walking like you’re brain damaged.” You said dryly, but he just grinned and leaned his entire weight on you, nearly knocking you to the ground. The walkway to the plane was short so you didn’t have to support him for too long, though as you lead him through the entrance, you heard the stewardess say to Johnny: “ Has he taken drugs?” . Apparently, Chris heard too, as he whipped around to look at her, taking you with him.

“ No no, I don’t need a drink.”

That wasn’t what she asked at all. Before he could say anything else, you pushed him down the aisle. You thanked whatever god was above that all of you were seated at the very back of the plane, but you despaired at having to sit with Steve-O and Chris. As Steve-O happily settled into his seat and Chris stood in in the aisle, swaying slightly, you leaned over to the row in front where Johnny was getting comfy next to Jeff.

“There’s no way in hell you guys assigned me babysitter.” 

“But you’re so good at it!” Johnny laughed gleefully, while Jeff just shrugged.

“Sorry, that was MTV’s decision. At least you didn’t pay for it.”

“Jesus christ.” This was gonna be a fucking mess, you already knew, especially when Jeff leaned up to look over your shoulder and made a face.

“Where did Chris go?”

“What?”

You spun on your heel - he was nowhere to be found. He was there literally a second ago, how the hell did he move so fast on sleeping pills? Johnny leaned up to peer over the seats, his eyebrows raising once he spotted him.

“I think he’s by the bathroom? Wow, he usually doesn’t make it, proud of him.”

“ The fuck do you mean ‘doesn’t make it’? ” 

Suddenly, the sound of somebody jamming the service button was heard throughout the cabin, and you assumed it had something to do with Chris. You charged down the aisle towards him, but slowed as you saw the dark, wet spot on the carpet beneath his feet. He seemed to be completely unaware of his bodily malfunction, casually chatting to a random couple while the woman spammed that button like her life depended on it. Immediately, you took hold of his shoulders and steered him into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Chris tittered to himself as you turned on the tap.

“[Y/n]… y’wanna try the mile high club?” He asked, head barely supported by his neck. You blinked at him.

“You’re covered in piss.”

“Wow… didn’ know you’re into that…”

“For the love of god just give me your shorts.”

He complied without question, and you threw them into the filled sink. It wouldn’t clean them properly, but dammit it was the best you could do. While they soaked, you bundled up half the toilet roll in your hand and set to work cleaning up his legs. It was fucking grim, but if you had to sit next to him for the next 10 fucking hours you were making damn sure he didn’t smell like piss. At least he wasn’t making it difficult for you, humming to himself as he let you clean and redress him. Finally leaving the bathroom again, you noticed the pile of newspapers where the wet patch was, and the disgusted looks from the poor couple Chris had picked out. You didn’t waste anymore time getting him back to the seats. You ushered him into the middle seat, Steve-O taking note of Chris’ freshly ringed out shorts.

“Why are they wet?”

“I cleaned him up.” 

"Cleaned up what?"

You gave him a weary expression that seemed to get the message across. You took your seat next to Chris, and he took it upon himself to cuddle up to your side, curling up like a drowsy cat. It would be so much cuter if it weren’t for what just happened. As if to prolong the second hand embarrassment, a stewardess approached your row, a concerned expression as she pointed to Chris. “Excuse me, has he… taken anything?”

Before you could answer, Steve-O did it for you.

“ Yeah, and so did I! But we took it before we got on the plane so it’s totally legal.”

“ Prescribed!” You interjected, shoving Steve-O back into his seat. “Prescribed sleeping pills, got him from a doctor, swear to god.”

She scrunched up her nose, a crease between her eyebrows, but she didn’t follow up. You shot Steve-O a glare once she left. “What the fuck was that?”

“What? She asked .”

The plane hadn’t even taken off yet, how had so much already happened? At least the pills seemed to be overpowering Chris, clinging to you with droopy eyelids. He was murmuring something incomprehensible, no chance in hell of you deciphering it, but he seemed happy. Everything was normal until the plane took off. You were distracted by talking to Johnny through the crack in the seats, when you heard something unzip. You curiously turned to look at Steve-O, then immediately looked away from anything below the belt. You eyed the digicam he had in his other hand, aimed at the window. The sound that followed was one you really wished you didn’t hear.

“ Steve. ” You hissed, and he looked at you expectantly. “ What the fuck are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, but he grinned mischievously, tilting the small cup of waste product towards Chris. Your face went white.

“Johnny switch seats with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Johnny I will literally give you anything you want oh my god please– !”

But it was too late, the cup was thrown, Chris was drenched, unfortunately you were surprised by none of this. What the fuck is it with these guys and pee...? You quickly came to the conclusion that there was only one way you were getting through this.

“Do you have any more of those pills…?”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You woke up 10 hours later, the groggiest you had ever felt in your life, but you knew damn well it was worth it. From the looks of it, most of the passengers had already gotten off the plane, leaving your rag tag group including a now conscious Chris Pontius. He was chatting idly with the others when he noticed you stir, giving you a smile. “Oh hey, you’re finally up.” 

You sleepily blinked, system rebooting as your liver processed the last of the sleeping pill you took. Your thoughts were all muddy and slurred together, and you couldn’t remember much of what happened before you knocked out, but there was one thing very clear in your head.

“Chris. You were just… covered in piss.”

Steve-O was cackling like a hyena, and Chris quickly went from confused to sheepish; you could tell this wasn’t the first time.

“C’mon man, you took advantage of my drug-addled mind.” He complained, but Steve casually shoved his shoulder.

“I was on ‘em too, you knew the risk.”

Every flight attendant gave you guys the stink eye as you left, and though you didn’t blame them, you didn’t have it in you to give much of a shit.

“I’m never flying with you guys again.” You mumbled, some of the fatigue not yet gone. Affectionately, Johnny pulled you into his side and squeezed your shoulder.

“Good thing you got the flight back with us, huh?”

“Awesome. Can’t wait.”

There was already a car waiting for you guys, rented on MTV’s behalf. Since you were the one who knew the address, you were assigned the designated driver - probably not the best idea after taking sleeping pills but you were pretty sure it was all gone by the time you were behind the wheel. Besides, it’s not like you crashed in a blazing glory. Sure enough, 20 minutes out from the outskirts of London, there stood a large house on the left of a country road, surrounded by trees and fields. Whatever neighbours there may be were far from here. It was visibly aged, the paint on the outside cracked away, and the windows shadowed with dust. You pulled into the dirt drive and emerged from the driver door.

“It’s kinda spooky out here.” Johnny said, standing with his hands on his hips, craning his neck to look up at the house blocking out the twilight sky. You shrugged, rounding the car to pull your suitcase out of the boot. 

“I bet it's nice on the inside.”

“How’d your parents afford this place?” Jeff asked as he followed the rest out of the car. 

“I think inheritance… some distant Uncle owned it then passed it on in the will. That’s the story, at least.”

“This place is definitely haunted.” Chris’ reaction made you giggle; you twirled the keys on your fingers as you went up to the old wooden door, chipped and ancient. The key stuck in the lock, but with a hefty twist, it creaked open, revealing a dark hallway. Ok, you saw where Chris was coming from. Gazing into the unlit depth, you expected a pair of eyes to appear or a hand to reach out towards you. 

“I think I saw a demon.” Steve-O chuckled.

“Dude don’t, I think I did too...” Chris replied, as you fished around in the dark for the light switch. Luckily, the lights still worked after… who knows how long. The interior looked normal - outdated for sure, you’d never seen a house straight out of the 70’s like this, but other than that it was just a house. It was odd, you’d never actually stepped foot in this house before… if you remembered correctly, your folks lived here for just a few years before they had you, then they moved to the city. 

“Here it is, I guess... welcome to England.”

It took a while for everyone to pick their rooms, as they were far too busy exploring the creaky home and making fun of the tacky décor. There were some oddities; Chris wasn’t fond of the taxidermied animals in the hallway, especially when Steve-O dropped the fox on him from the second floor mezzanine. There were odd trinkets on every counter, collecting dust from the decades of absence, alongside old tvs that would probably give you cancer. However, the star of the show was definitely the small games room at the back of the house, heralding a pool table, a darts board, and more taxidermied animals but this time mounted on the walls - you know, for variety. 

Eventually, fucking around got boring and everyone remembered what they were here for, so it was back in the car to London in search of some decent footage and a decent bar. You found yourselves in Soho, where Johnny had the bright idea of acting as goalie in somebody’s doorway and letting strangers kick a football at him. Admittedly, you didn’t have much faith in the outcome, but the passers-by had a great time, one even managing to hit him square in the head. It knocked him off kilter, but god knows he’s had worse. You all had a go as well, some as goalie and some as shooter. When you went up against Johnny, you managed to get him right in the balls, something you insisted was a total accident, but the boys praised it nonetheless. Johnny didn’t even let you apologise for it, simply asking if you managed to get it on tape - clearly he had his priorities in order.

It wasn’t long before an officer told you all to fuck off, but it was fun while it lasted; and with a stunt already under your belts, you all figured you deserved a drink after the long journey, so off to the Soho bars you went to christen your week of overseas shooting, the rented car long forgotten.

[chewchuck]

the dangers of using too many euphemisms in fic is eventually you just feel like you’re rewriting foxtrot uniform charlie kilo by the bloodhound gang