#never too many punk beats

[cheer-nympho]

Thinking about Eddie driving up to the quarry one night to try and sell to the teenagers that usually hang around here,

But when he gets there only one car is parked and hidden behind the bushes framing the road.

A very familiar BMW with it’s windows steamed up.

‘Of course Harringtons getting some again. Lucky fuck.’ Eddie thinks as he lights a smoke, if only to warm him up a bit in the cold night.

Damn. From the condensation dripping down the BMW windows, they’re having no problem keeping warm.

Even from the distance it takes effort to not startle when the hand slams against the back window, creating a messy handprint on the white glass. Even from here he can see it’s a mans hand. Steve, he assumes. Jesus, whoever he has in that back seat is clearly getting railed practically through the seats.

He should look away, really. Knows that this is a bit fucked up. But…he can’t actually see anything. And really, Harrington shouldn’t have brought her out to the towns most known hangout. And its not like he was straining to hear, they were just SO loud. And…deep?

Eddie’s not exactly a connoisseur in the different noises of women, try as he may, but he’s pretty sure he’s only hearing a man right now. Sure, its still a pretty high pitched and punched out sound but noticeably a dudes- which confuses Eddie for a minute.

Harrington must just be really sensitive and loud. Maybe that’s why he had so many girls falling over him, the noises certainly weren’t turning Eddie OFF the interaction.

He can physically see the change in the cars bouncing when he assumes they’re…’finishing off’

Eddie doesn’t know why he’s still here. He could have- no, he SHOULD have left ages ago. But not long after the bouncing stops, the car door swings over and 2 legs swing out, hands coming down to fix their socks- clearly having hastily thrown his clothes back on.

The only thing is…Eddie doesn’t remember Harringtons legs being so long? The body looks out or place sitting in the open door, not like the familiar and practically famous silhouette of Steve against his vehicle. And it hits Eddie square in the face when the guy stands upright.

Cause Eddie DOES know the guy. He’s just stomach tippinglys aware that it is NOT Harrington.

That’s Johnny. Eddies (admittedly one sided) rival at the hideout. A fucking punk. Not in the way the adults of Hawkins use the term, he’s literally a punk rocker.

And his punk rocker ass is currently stepping out of Steve Harringtons freshly christened back seat. Well that…can’t be right. Harrington must just…rent out his car to couple or something. That must be it. Rich people are weird like that.

His theory is very quickly destroyed as Johnny knocks lightly on the roof of the car, cigarette already in the other hand, and pokes his head into the back. He laughs before a pair of legs flop out of the door. Legs attached to someone clearly too tall for a backseat. Legs attached to someone very male.

He should go. He needs to go. If not because of how his stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself, then because his best-buddy Johnny just tipped his head non-subtly towards Eddie’s van.

‘Shit shit shit shit-‘ He puts the keys in as fast as he can with shaking hands.

— And he so nearly got away too. So nearly never had to look at that BMW or its occupants again, live his life carefree.

All hope of that was cruelly dashed when he left hellfire to see Steve leaning against his van.

He scanned the area, in hopes someone else had stayed late because he was pretty sure Steve was about to give him the “talk and you’re dead” followed by a beating up. And that would suck.

Nowhere else to go but forward, he clutched his DND bag and hobbled over to Harrington- who hadn’t offered him anything other than a blank stare.

“Harrington.”

“Munson.”

“Pretty late to be lurking around school. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Don’t lecture me on lurking, man. We both know you were at the quarry.”

“I don’t really-“

“Johnny told me, would recognise your beat up ride miles away he said.”

Thankfully Eddie had enough brain power in him to add that to the list of reasons to fucking hate Johnny. In the time he had to scowl at the ground, Harrington had rounded behind him. Eddie span to meet him but was met with a rough hand to the chest.

He was pushed up against his van with a sharp movement, pulling a winded breath from him followed by a large ‘bang’ as Steve’s hand slammed to the side of his head.

“So, Munson. What did you see?”

“I didn’t see-“

“Try again.” A hand crept into his hair, not pulling but clearly threatening it with the way it was clasped.

“I saw…you and Johnny. In your car.”

Steve hummed and looked away from Eddie. “That’s not very specific, Eddie, try again.”

“Wha- I don’t know what you-“ The hand in his hair yanked, pulling his head so that even with their similar heights he was forced to look up at Steve, hands gripping uselessly to the side of his van.

“Try again.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s what he wanted.

“I saw Johnny fucking you.”

He managed to lift his gaze to look at Steve and was met with an almost dopey smirk, his eyes barely focused as they stared down at Eddie half closed. Eddie melted right into the wall of his van because Steve Harrington was looking him like he’d never been hornier in his life.

“Fuck. He was Eddie, he really was and it was so good. You saw it right? Saw the car moving? Shit, man, it’s hard to get it moving like that. He was so rough.” Eddie just stared as Steve started falling further towards him, sinking into the weird little hold they both had.

“But there’s just one problem Munson.” Steve said into the side of Eddie’s neck, making him shiver and use all his willpower to keep his head where Steve’s grip had moved it.

“What- What problem?”

“My car is just too small. We needed more space, I needed more space.”

He brought his free hand up and slammed it to the other side of Eddie’s head. “Do you think you might know anyone with something more…spacious?” And when Eddie clocked exactly what he was implying, what he was begging for- he had never been so thankful for his shitty van.

[syrupfog]

Luffy grew up with two brothers who, at first, hated him and kicked the shit out of him. Then, eventually, loved him and who expressed that love through kicking the shit out of him. 

Luffy's grown up with a low level of violence as love his whole life. 

His crew is the same, from very early on. Nami will beat on anyone (or at least any of the boys), and Zoro's been known to land a punch to the back of his head at every dumb remark he makes. 

And Sanji... his kicks are INTENSE. 

Luffy's lucky he's made of rubber.

and he laughs it all off-- because it's FUNNY. He knows his crew loves him, they're his CREW. He knows his brothers loved him, they're his BROTHERS. Luffy has always known violence as a form of love, although notably he rarely reflects that methodology onto others.

When Luffy meets Law the first time, Law watches as Luffy punches a Celestial Dragon in the face. That violence is, obviously, NOT a form of love. 

When Luffy meets Law the second time, it's when Law is saving his life, doing impossible levels of knitting him back together.

Luffy doesn't remember a lot of that bit, or the bit right after, on Amazon Lily, when the grief is at its strongest. 

But then, two years later, he sees Law again on Punk Hazard, and they form an alliance, and Luffy declares that Law is a good guy. 

No one else agrees.

But when has Luffy ever cared about other peoples' opinions? Now certainly isn't the time to start. Law gave all those pirates new legs. He saved Luffy. He's good. 

and then Law is travelling with them, aboard the Sunny. 

And he's mean and grouchy and short tempered and, again, everyone is wary of him. 

Luffy's not, of course, because that's just how Law is, but he's confused. 

Because no matter how many times Law snaps or yells or threatens to slice people apart, he's never violent. He doesn't throw punches or kick or draw his sword.

Which does make Luffy wonder if he's done something wrong, that Law doesn't feel like he can be free with Luffy, to go after him when he says something stupid. Everyone else does, is it because he's the captain? But Law's captain too, and they're in an alliance, they're equal.

But he doesn't say anything on it-- and even in Dressrosa, when Law tries to tell him the alliance is over, Luffy knows he wouldn't attack him even if he could. And it's confusing. He couldn't count the amount of times Ace landed a punch on him just for waking him up wrong.

After all that is said and done, and they land on Zou, and Luffy meets the Heart Pirates in all their glory, all twenty of them, he doesn't know if he gets more confused or less. 

The Heart Pirates LOVE their captain (as they should, Traffy is great!) and clearly would do anything for him, starting with those dorky poses they strike. And they yell at him for abandoning them, but they don't get violent with Law, and doesn't get violent with them. He sort of just... lets them yell at him and then talks over them. 

It's weird.

This isn't a thought that keeps Luffy up at night so much as it's a thought that he returns to whenever he looks at Law, reclining as his crew tries to get him to talk about what happened, or whenever Luffy's getting literally kicked out of the kitchen by Sanji.

It's a fact that Luffy puzzles on even in Wano, as Law is passively letting Luffy ruin every plan and then announcing that he planned FOR Luffy to ruin every plan. 

He doesn't hit Luffy for ruining his plan. He doesn't even elbow him in the side.

Before Luffy had seen Law with his own crew on Zou, he had thought that maybe Law didn't really like him. But after seeing Law interacting with his crew, he started to reevaluate. Law loves his crew, and although he threatens to use his Room on them (and maybe sometimes he does), that's not a violent thing. They can pop back together like Kin'emon did. 

But Luffy wonders-- what does it mean to be close with someone without feeling the freedom to get physical with them? 

He wonders this and doesn't have an answer, because that's never been his world.

And of course, what Luffy doesn't know, is that Law grew up with that violence. Had those formative years with Doflamingo, where he was taught to fight and lived with a family who was just as violent as Luffy's own. He was full of hatred and happily took it out on people.

And the only difference was Cora-- who at first was just as violent, to be fair, throwing him out a window and all that. 

But Cora who saw him as someone that could be saved, who sacrificed everything from his mission to his life, to give Law freedom of a different kind— the freedom of gentleness. The freedom that comes from being able to live for yourself. The freedom that comes from being loved enough that the one who loves you gave it all up for you. 

He gave Law everything he had, and he held him tight and told him it would all be okay.

And it wasn't, because Cora's gone, but Law took that love and internalized it, and from the very start the first thing he does is save Bepo from being hurt. 

He gathers a crew little by little and does so by giving them second chances like he was given, and gives them safety— including physical safety. Because separating himself from Doflamingo and that hatred means also separating himself from that senseless violence that comes from growing up in organized crime. 

Law's crew respects him because, despite his prickly exterior, he's stoically kind.He's using his fruit to help and to heal-- even when he gives those pirate hearts to the marines, did he kill them? Debatable. 

Law has worked hard to excise that violence from his life, and Luffy can see that even when no one else on his crew seems to notice.

And Luffy doesn't know why-- doesn't understand it-- but god it makes him smile wide when he sees Law snap at someone and knows that he can trust that Law won't hurt. 

It's like having a wild animal, capable of destruction, lay lazily at your feet.

Luffy wants that. It's an addicting feeling, to feel safe in that way. 

He loves his crew and he loves his brothers and he's made of rubber-- they couldn't hurt him, wouldn't hurt him. 

But the secret gentle kindness of Law is addicting.

[guesswhoisofftheirmedsagain]

Rock Star Kon AU

AU where everyone is the same except Kon decides he doesn’t want to be a superhero, or a supervillain, he wants to follow his passion for music, specifically rock/punk. (An intern is actually to blame for his love of rock and punk music, because the same intern was always assigned to watch Kon in his tube days, [to made sure he didn’t explode or something idk how the comic logic works ok] and always listened to punk / rock music. It was the only music Kon could hear like ever and he really liked it.)

So he pops out the tube and Lex is like “you’re going to be the new Superman” and Kon’s like “nuh uh, ima go be a rock star” and Lex is all like ???? and Kon flys off and does become a rockstar because he’s just build different and hot and talented or something idk. He doesn’t keep quiet about his abilities at all, flying around at his concerts, playing all the different instruments with his TTK at once while he sings. (That took a lot of time to learn, he is a one man show) Nobody knows exactly what he is, the government cant catch him, plus now that he’s famous and loved by millions world wide, it’s a lot more difficult to do things under the radar. (Lex magically goes away because I wont be having his too shiny big head anywhere near this fluff) Anyway so because of this he meets Tim in a very different way.

Tim has to keep up public appearances, to do this, he needs to maintain normal friendships with citizens. That means when one of his friends from school invites him to go to a concert, in New York for the weekend with a whole group for their birthday, he accepts. He semi-enjoys himself, being able to see the super powered alien turned rock star up close was interesting. They had a file over him in the BatComputer, and he appeared to be of a low threat level, (with great potential to become a high level one, if he ever decides that he doesn’t wanna do music anymore and go evil), but they still didn’t know exactly what he is. They had a few theories going, the one with the most evidence being that he’s a kryptonian, or at least part kryptonian. He seems to be able to speak many languages, which Superman can’t do that well. Their power sets are different, but then again Superman was only one dude, kryptonians could have had a variety of different powers and they just don’t have the data pool to grab from.

Their group all have VIP passes, (Kon loves to meet with his fans, but the person who basically appointed herself as his manager knew there had to be some type of crowd control.). When it’s their groups turn, Tim’s Robin instincts flare up, the detective in him wanting to snag a few samples from Kon, to confirm his theories.

Kon lays eyes on the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his life, and he’s seen a lot of people, world wide. Kon flirted with his fans quite often, but it never went past a single meeting and light flirting. He has his eyes set on the fellow teen boy the moment he walked into his line of sight. He had never really asked someone out for real before, and suddenly he found himself nervous. He was tuned out to the conventions with fans he was having, unable to focus away from the pretty strangers voice, his heart beat, the way he walked and carried himself with a grace Kon couldn’t ever hope to achieve, even when he flys. He blinks, and the next thing he knows is that the pretty stranger is now standing right in front of him with his group. Kon of course interacted with the whole group, just because all of his senses wanted to hyper focus on everything this pretty strangers did, the way his shoulders moved when he breathed, his tone, the words he chose to use, that smile on his face- he needed to keep this guy in his life.

Near the end of their groups time, Tim was honestly caught off guard when Kon asked him if he wanted to maybe meet up tomorrow, because he was staying in New York another few nights after his last show. Tim almost said no, Kon was hot and way out of Tim’s league. Kon probably asked out every other person he saw, Tim knows through the media how big of a flirt he is. But something in Kon’s voice was so sincere- then Tim realized, this would be the perfect opportunity to get samples from him. So Tim’s school friends watch on in amazement as Kon, the world famous alien punk rock singer, asked out one of the hottest guys in their whole school.

[ultralightpoe]

Full House - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Wow. I think I went too far with these, lmao.

Word Count: 5,258

Warnings: Dad!Eddie. That's it.

Description: Stepdad!Eddie and his girls that gives nothing but Uncle Jesse Vibes.

Part ll HERE

(Thank you for the gif @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal )

Enjoy!

(Eddie is not the step dad, he is the dad that stepped up)

Eddie Munson was many things in life. 

Triple senior, Satanic Freak, Dungeon Master, High School Graduate, Vecna survivor, Waynes son, and now Mechanic shop owner. But his favorite title came by accident, a truly brilliant accident of course. 

Nancy and Steve had planned a vacation for themselves, the first vacation they had since the birth of their adorable son Edward…..okay they named their kid Vince but Eddie thought that name was ugly and had spent the past 5 years continuously mocking them over it. So, in everything Eddie, he had named him Edward Jr. this week. 

Anyways, Nancy and Steve were having a very lovely trip at Niagara Falls while the rest of the group watched little man. While Eddie was at work Joyce Byers took him, and when Eddie had gigs Dustin took him and they ‘studied’ together which meant Dustin used him as an excuse to play games rather than study for his senior year. 

It was all going splendidly, until Eddie got a call in the middle of his work shift telling him that he would have to go down to the school immediately since Edward Jr -Vincent, had gotten into a little bit of a fight. 

So Eddie booked it, still in his greased out mechanic suit, a bandana on his head and the biggest concern that Steve’s kid would be kicked out of his school while he was away. What had he done to the kids? Had he broken their noses? Made them bleed?

Here was the problem, Eddie forgot that he was talking about Steve Harrington's kid, so when he arrived at the school to see his nephew bleeding and whimpering he realized the mistake. Vinny had gotten beat up, not the other way. 

“What happened, bud? Who did this to you?” Eddie was gonna fuck a kid up, he was gonna scalp someones son. He was going to absolutely annihilate some random ass boy. 

His nephew whimpers, using the back of his hand to wipe away a fresh tear as Eddie takes a gentle hand to assess the damage. “L/n….” 

Eddie was gonna kill this L/n punk. “What’d he do? He been bullying you?”

“You must be Mr. Harrington.” A saccharine voice fills the air, drawing his attention up to an older woman with narrowed eyes. 

“No, I’m Vinny’s uncle actually. Eddie Munson.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand which the woman glares at, and he realizes then that he was still covered in grease. So he pulls his hand back, embarrassed and nervous. “Sorry about that, rushed from work-”

“Never mind that. Let’s go.” The teacher nods her head. “You too Vincent.”

Eddie, now partially annoyed by the use of his nephews full name in such a tone, grabs his hand into his own and follows the old bat into the office where two more three more figures sit. The sight before him makes him stop, blinking slowly as a heat crosses his skin. 

Was he blushing? Shit, he was. 

Sat in the chair is the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with a small baby in her lap and a small girl softly crying sitting on the edge of the chair, hiding half her face in the womans shoulder. 

“Have a seat Mr. Minson.” The old bat snaps, moving around the desk to sit in the cushioned chair. 

“Munson.” Eddie corrects, sitting in the chair beside yours while trying to keep it cool. Vinny takes the arm of the chair, holding onto some of the fabric of Eddie’s jumpsuit tightly. The woman blatantly ignores him as she shuffles around some of the papers on her desk. So Eddie turns to you slowly, holding out his hand again. “Eddie Munson.”

“Y/n L/n.” You smile, taking his hand in your own. “I am so sorry about your son-”

“I prefer the parents not to talk until I explain.” Old bat snaps out making Eddie sit up straighter. “I brought you both in here because it seems that Motley has violently assaulted Vinn-”

“ASSAULTED?! They are 5!” You snap out as the girl, Motley, begins crying which leads the little baby in your lap to start crying as well. And right on cue Vinny himself starts crying. 

“Woah woah woah.” Eddie starts, pulling his nephew closer. “Bud, why don’t you explain what happened here?”

“She hit me!”

“He pushed me!”

“And then she bit me!”

“He pulled my hair!”

“Okay, ease it up.” You sigh, rubbing Motley’s back in soothing circles. “I am so sorry about your son, and I will totally get if you’re upset but they are 5 and I don’t really know about the assault word-”

“Miss. L/n.” Old bat interrupts but Eddie shakes his head. He will just handle this just as Nancy liked to parent. 

“What can make this better, huh Vinny? Like your dad always says, an apology?”

“Y-yeah….” Vinny whimpers which makes Eddie smile and imitate the whimper voice. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you can apologize, Motley?” You ask and Motley sticks out her tongue to Vinny.  Eddie tries to hold in his laugh at this, the little metal head was not backing down. “Motley.”

“Fine. I’m sorry Vincent.” She snaps out. “But the next time you pull my hair-”

“I think we got it.” Eddie laughs, picking his nephew up. “Let’s go get some ice cream and forget all about it.”

He smiles at the principal before tearing out of the room, keeping Vinny held above the ground as he rushes out of the school. He is rushing too fast to hear you calling behind him, until they make it out of the school. 

“Wait! Sir-” He turns, blushing wildly as he attempts a smile. You smile back, still holding the little baby in your arms and Motleys hand. “I am so sorry about all of that. Motley has been a bit…. Aggressive since her dad left. How about we all go get ice cream and it’ll be on me today?”

And then Eddie, as terrible as it is, gets excited. That meant your single, single and very pretty. So he smiles. “Sounds metal to me.”

The giggle that escaped Motley makes him happy. 

Soon enough Eddie found his entire world wrapped around his three ladies. You, the little 5 year old named Motley and the little baby Ziggy. (Both named after rock music. You don’t like it then name em something else.) 

His life did an entire tilt and he found himself going from the freak to being ‘Daddy Eddie’ as his girls liked to call him. 

- 

“Lemme get the straight.” Eddie starts, holding up one finger and leaning back as he takes in the scene before him, Motley covered head to toe in flour and smiling from ear to ear. “The bag of flour just happened to knock down from the shelf and fall on you?”

“Yup.” The girl nods, still smiling. 

“And you don’t know how the step stool got there?”

“It was there when I walked by.” She shrugs. 

“I see. And you didn’t know that we hid the cookies on that shelf?”

“You do?!” She feigns shock, bringing both hands up to slap her cheeks. “What a coincidently.”

“Yeahhhhh. What a coincidently.” He imitates, bringing his own hands up to slap his cheeks in shock, trying very hard not to laugh at this entire thing. From her covered in flour, or her grammar and especially not the innocent act. Do not laugh. Do not laugh.

  “Motley! What did you do?!” You cry, coming into the kitchen in the pajama shorts Eddie loved so much, to see your daughter covered in your flour. 

You had both been in bed…..snuggling….. When you heard the sound of bowls falling. 

“I am innocent!” Motley cries, waving her hands like she truly could not believe you would think it was her. 

“She’s innocent!” Eddie follows, doing the same as her. “Tell her you want a lawyer, Mot.”

“Motley, do not-”

“I want a lawn mower!” She snaps out before you could warn her away from it. The room falls silent for a second after her words slip out and both you and Eddie try to control yourselves, but before you know it you are cracking up. 

Tears springing from your eyes as you cackle, Eddie finds himself using one arm to lean against the wall as his other arm holds his ribs, pained to be laughing so hard. 

“What’s so funny?” Motley asks, a puff of flour blowing out as she giggles herself which just sends you and Eddie into yet another laughing fit.  “Mama! Daddy Eddie!” 

“What Mot?” You laugh, swiping the tears from your eyes. 

“You’re being mean!” “Aww, we’re sorry Motty.” Eddie coos, moving closer as you do as well. Before she knows it you are both launching to hug and kiss at her, covering both of you with flour as she giggles and screams to escape. 

Eddie steals her another cookie before you take her to the bathroom to shower her off, you both lay with her to read for bed before you lead him back to your room, taking a shower together before going to bed yourselves. 

- 

Eddie was completely at peace, laying on the couch after a long day at work, with Ziggy laying on his chest slobbering all over his shirt. Motley laid on his legs, her head shoved between his hip and the couch as she snored away. 

They were sick, and you were in the kitchen making some chicken soup. Eddie had been in charge of getting them showered and ready for dinner, the only problem was the steam from the shower had cleared their noses which meant about 10 minutes of getting them both to blow into a tissue. And by the time that was done all their energy was gone, so he led them to the couch to lay with them and try to ease their whimpers. 

They passed out soon after and he was trapped in a pile of heat from their fevers and their slobbering snores. But he was at ease right here, their warmth making him just as tired. One hand rubbing Ziggy’s back while making sure she didn’t roll off his chest while the other hand slowly rubbed Motley's scalp. 

Before he knew it he slowly began falling asleep himself, and by the time he woke up he felt your fingers rubbing his forehead very very softly, a small smile playing on your lips. 

“Do you want me to grab them?” You whisper, which makes him shake his head. 

“Let em sleep, they don’t feel good.” He whispers back, turning bleary eyes to Ziggy who was currently crawling her way up his chest, she whimpers and whines until she is able to put her mouth around his nose. The gums touch his skin as she sucks on his nose, and he laughs slowly. “Apparently she is teething too.”

“I’ll go grab her ice pack.” You laugh, moving to the kitchen to grab it as Motley wakes up. 

“Daddy…. I hurt.” She whines and he nods, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the couch to give her room to get up, she does and quickly crawls until her head is in his lap. 

“You want some soup? Huh pretty girl? Maybe we can listen to Elvis before bed.” He offers, watching a small smile break out on her face that she tries to hide. Eddie teases her by leaning to see it and laughing when she covers her mouth. Then he pulls out the big guns, taking up the Elvis voice as he stares at her. “Let’s go eat some soup sweetie pie.”

“Hunka hunka burning love!” She giggles, jumping up to dash to the kitchen, when she passes you she nearly knocks you over but you manage to lean out of the way just in time. 

“What’s the rush?”

“Promised her Elvis after dinner.” Elvis was the king of rock, which albeit wasn’t the rock that Eddie liked, but Motley had grown overly obsessed with him lately and he was cool with that. Anything his girl wanted. 

- 

Blurb song inspo hereeeee . 

The opening of King Creole began, Motley stood on yours and Eddie's bed wearing his sunglasses and his leather jacket. She held a ukulele he had found from a garage sale, and thought it was the perfect size for her to play guitar. 

Ziggy stood on the ground, using his nightstand to help herself stand as she swung her butt up and down to the music. 

Eddie stood by the bed, with his guitar in both hands as Elvis Presley's song blasted through the speaker, wearing his newer leather jacket and a random pair of shades he found on the dresser that he was sure belonged to you.  Motley giggles loudly as Eddie sings the lyrics, playing his guitar to it as Motley pretends to play guitar as well. 

You were at the store and Eddie was supposed to be practicing for his gig coming up, and when you left he had Ziggy set up in her little play crib before Motley came in with the leather jacket on. One thing led to another and they all were playing along. 

“There’s a man in New Orleans who plays rock n roll!” Eddie sings, leaning in at the same time Motley does so their noses press together and then leaning back as she does and shimmying their shoulders. 

They sing and scream, dancing along as you pull back into the driveway. When you come in to get his help to carry in the groceries you are surprised by the loud music, even more surprised by the Elvis playing with the Metal twist to it. 

“Eds?” You call from the door, watching both him and your daughter shimmy their butts to you as they sing before you lean and stop the music which makes them both twist quickly to find you. 

“MAMA!” Motley cries, excitement crossing her face as she whips his glasses off, dropping the ukelele on the bed and launching into your arms. “Daddy Eddie was teaching me guitar!”

“I see that.” You laugh, keeping a hold of her as you lean to kiss Eddie, laughing when you see him in a pair of overly feminine glasses. “Nice look baby.”

“I thought they were very metal.” He laughs, kissing your lips softly, holding your jaw before Motley groans out a ‘ewwwww’.

“Did you like the music?” You laugh, looking down at her. “Even Daddy’s guitar.”

“He made the song better!” She laughs before you set her down. 

“Go get ready. We are having Vinny and his parents over.” At your words she groans, rolling her eyes which makes Eddie laugh out and reach a ringed hand to pull one of her pigtails lightly. 

“What’s with the attitude, pretty girl? Your rock n’ roll career is already getting to you?” He laughs, leaning to kiss her cheek before sliding off his jacket, moving to pick Ziggy up and make his way down the hall as his baby girl giggles happily. 

“I hateeeee Vinny.” Motley groans, following behind and snatching the chain that hangs from his pants to slow him down. “Daddy Eddie, pweaseeee.”

“Ohhhh, not the puppy eyes!” He whines, looking up to the ceiling. 

“No!” You call, covering her eyes. “Not this time.”

- 

Eddie sat on the floor of the living room with his back to the couch, water dripping from his hair onto his exposed chest as Motley sat behind him taking a brush through his hair over and over. He wore a towel around his hips, keeping him covered waist down but all his tattoos exposed as rubbed lotion on them, allowing Motley to have fun playing makeover with his hair. 

You sat near him, your feet in his lap as you read through a book you have promised yourself you would finish for months now.. Ziggy played with her toy blocks near as well, babbling along to the movie that played on the tv. 

Nights like this were perfect, no hustle and bustle and he got to spend time with his favorite girls. 

He rubbed some lotion on the bat tattoos, not really paying attention to what was happening around him only to be interrupted by a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Instantly he is sitting up grunting a bit when the brush Motley was holding puls his hair. 

“What? What’s wrong?” “Ziggy is-” But he already sees her, wobbling as she tries to stand without using anything to help her, blabbering quickly. Excitement courses through him as he sits up, Motley giggling behind him. 

It takes her a moment but she stands, turning to you and Eddie with a tiny smile. “Come here. Come of Stardust.”

Eddie coos gently and Ziggy wobbles, moving to take a step before landing on her butt. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay baby. Try again.” You coo, reaching your arms out. Ziggy giggles and picks herself up again, and once again she tries to take a step. Then, still giggling, she walks. 

Clumsy and heavy, she takes step after step until she falls into Eddie’s arms while everyone coos around her. 

“Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles and Eddie’s heart stops. Oh my god. 

“Did she just….” He gasps out as you tear up beside him. 

“Mix your name and daddy as her first word. Indeed she did.” You laugh, moving forward to kiss his cheek as he pulls Ziggy in to kiss her face all over.  

“THAT’S MY GIRL!”

- 

Eddie was beginning to get a little pissed off, his body thrumming with it as he watches his girls very closely. He keeps a firm hold on the neck of his guitar to fight the urge to punch someone in the face. 

That someone was Gareth. 

His band hadn’t had much exposure to kids, he knew this. The closest any of them had been to a kid was Jeff’s sister and she was only 2 years younger than her brother. So when Eddie had introduced his girls to them they hadn’t really known what to do. But he assumed they would get used to it by now. 

But his friends hadn’t. In Fact they did nothing but complain when Eddie showed up to band rehearsal with Ziggy on his arm and Motley's hand held within his own. She twisted his rings around, smiling from ear to ear when they walked up to the boys. 

Motley had been worried and had taken far too long to pick an outfit since she wanted to look as cool as Daddy Eddie and his friends. She ended up choosing the Hellfire shirt Dustin had made for her 6th birthday and his older jacket, she even let him braid her hair. And when they walked up she gave them a well rehearsed devil look, even sticking her tongue out just like Eddie does whenever she is throwing a fit. 

The only problem was Gareth and Paul both groaned outwardly, Jeff was the only one that seemed to try and smile, shaking his hand in an awkward wave. Eddie, now irritated and tense simply explains “Y/n had to go and help Nancy with something, I offered to take the angels.”

“Of course you did.” Paul scoffs, turning to grab a beer from the fridge with Gareth and Jeff in tow. Eddie bends down so he was level with Motley, rubbing her arm. 

“Don’t take those geeks to heart, yeah? They’re just nervous. You scare them.” He smiles which makes her smile. 

“It’s okay Daddy Eddie. Papa never liked when I bothered him either. We’ll stay out of the way.” She shrugs, kissing his cheek and taking her chalk set to the sidewalk before he places Ziggy on the couch. 

The papa comment unnerved him and he was already defensive. He didn’t like that they were in a situation that they could remotely compare to their deadbeat dad. It made him sad. 

They start practicing, but soon enough Motley is running up and dancing around in the garage as they play. “PLAY TIFFANY!” 

“Whose that?” Jeff asks, covered in sweat. 

“Please tell me it’s not that teenager that sings ‘I think we’re-’” Just as Gareth starts groaning, Motley begins singing and dancing to it. 

‘Ithinkwe’realonenow. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around!”

“Stop stop stop!” Paul snaps. “This is band practice. You can’t just-”

“I think we should play it.” Jeff smiles. “You have the tape Eddie?”

Of course he had the tape, it was Motley's favorite song at the moment. So, with a deep sigh since he already knew he would get shit for it he pulls the tape from his pocket, holding it in the air between two fingers. 

Gareth sighs, snatching it from him and taking it to the stereo system. 

An hour later and many snide comments, Eddie was about to lose it.  Motley had, at some point, gotten a little upset and chose to sit on the couch with Ziggy who was beginning to get whiny and sad. She hadn’t napped all day and Eddie knew it was time to call it a day before he punched one of his friends. 

“I think I’m gonna get the little ones home.” He mumbles, grabbing the tape from the speaker and putting it in the case as he looks over to where his girls were. Ziggy had her pre-cry face on and Motley was half asleep in the cushions. Eddie shuddered at the thought of how many times Gareth had sex on that thing. 

“Next time don’t bring the rugrats and we can practice actual music.” Gareth scoffs and that tight string in Eddie finally snapped. He pushes closer to his friend, getting in his face as one hand snatches itself in his shirt tightly and in a threatening way, his other hand holding the tape up to his friend's face. 

“THIS IS MUSIC!” He screams, eyes wild before he shoves his friend back and takes a deep breath, turning to where his daughters sit. “Come on, pretty babies. Let’s go make dinner.”

He scoops Ziggy up, then Motley, casting one more glare to his friends before walking off. 

- 

“I cannot believe they would be such assholes. To MY nieces.” Steve scoffs, hands on his hips as he stands next to Eddie. Tonight was the school recital, so both of them were dressed up to attend. 

Steve had dressed himself in a button up with a nice sweater, making sure to match Nancy who was carrying their 3rd kid, the blue of the dress making her light up. Meanwhile Eddie chose a button up with his leather jacket, or well Motley had demanded he wear the leather jacket because it was a part of the look. 

 You, as per usual, looked truly stunning. He made sure to keep a hand on your hip or the small of your back to make sure everyone knew you were with him, that’s right. Eddie the freak munson had the hottest woman around and two of the prettiest and most talented daughters in the world. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Eddie sighs. “Talking to my girls like that?”

“They are just jackasses who can’t even play guitar.” Steve scoffs once more, looking past Eddie to check the door. “Ah, there they are. DUSTIN! ERICA!”

Dustin spots them, smiling as he holds Erica’s hand and shuffles closer to them. “Is Mike coming?”

“No. He has a date to make El jealous.” Nancy laughs. 

“Where is El tonight?”

“Going out with Max.” Nancy explains, and Eddie feels you tense under his hand. He casts you a quick look to make sure you’re okay, watching Ziggy lay her head on your chest as she plays with your necklace. 

“You good?” 

“Yup.” Your answer is clipped, and Ziggy lifts her head up to copy you with a ‘yupyup.’

“Where’s Lucas?” Steve asks Erica, leaning to kiss her forehead. 

“He had an away game. Asked us to film it.”

“Then asked me to stop dating his sister.” Dustin laughs which makes Steve and Eddie break out in their own fit of laughter. 

“Da-Ed-ay.” Ziggy giggles, reaching for him so he grabs her quickly, kissing her lips to make her happy. 

“I’m sorry? Did she just mix daddy and Eddie?” Steve gasps and Eddie shrugs. 

“I’m telling ya, my girls are geniuses.” He smiles, leading you into the auditorium so watch Motley's recital. 

He sits with Ziggy on his lap, holding your hand tightly in his own as Steve pulls out a camera and squats in the aisle to film everything. 

Motley and Vinny come up to do their dance, the audience laughing loudly when Motley steps on Vinnys foot after he tries to trip her. They both blush, Vinny takes a bow and Motley holds up a rock sign, which makes Eddie cheer loudly and stand up to yell for her. 

- 

Song Inspo for this blurb hereeeeee 

“Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take her.” Eddie sings, holding Ziggy on his shoulders easily as he dances with you. The Hawaiian shirt you picked out for him is light on his skin as the sun beats down on you both, the sweat from the day sticking to him. 

This was the fourth of July celebration, everyone in the group met at the beach to enjoy the day…… which meant Steve had shown up at 4 am to save the spot. Eddie had already applied sunscreen onto Motley and Ziggy twice, you had done it three times and you both were still scared that the girls would burn. 

You had gotten Ziggy the cutest toddler beach outfit, that included a purple swimsuit; hat; and sunglasses. And his baby girl looked absolutely rocking. 

Then Motley got her very own swimsuit, inspired by her favorite artist of the time Tiffany, and Eddie (who had been practicing braiding hair for weeks, your scalp was sore.) had put her hair into two pleats that she had proudly shown to her Aunt Robin who had spent the next 30 minutes complimenting her favorite niece. 

“Daddy Eddie! Come swim!” She yells out, running up to him. “Puh-lease!”

Now here was the problem, Eddie hated showing his abdomen in front of his friends. It was easy for Steve, who liked to say the scarring was Tom Cruise's amount of cool. Eddie however had never shown them how disgusting his scars were. 

“Daddy daddy daddy.” She calls, jumping up and down as Vinny dashes past to get to Dustin. “We’re gonna play chicken and I need my daddy.”

“Maybe Uncle Lucas can help you.” He mumbles, squatting down with Ziggy still on his shoulders, the toddler pulling at his hair sharply as she blubbers. 

“I don’t want Uncle Lucas. I want my daddy! Only you can help me!” She cries, grabbing his arms. His heart melts, and he tries to smile. 

“Okay pretty girl. Let me get Ziggy settled.” He sighs and she lights up, dashing to go tell Vinny as Eddie moves to hand you Ziggy. 

“I’m gonna help El set out the food. Be careful.” You mumble, leaning to kiss his lips before moving to the table as Ziggy waves over your shoulder. Eddie takes his shirt off, rubbing his abdomen in worry as he makes his way to the water where Motley now stood. 

“See?! My daddy has cool ass scars because he’s awesome and he’s gonna kick your slimy little ass.” Motley brags to Dustin, who stares at her with wide eyes that make Eddie laugh. 

“Language, pretty girl.”

“Sorry.” She blushes, turning back to Dustin. “My daddy has sick scars and he’s gonna beat your toothless ass.”

“Woah.”

And suddenly Eddie felt a little better about his scars, smiling from ear to ear as he lifted Motley up, dashing into the water to help her win a game of chicken.

- 

Thanksgiving was spent at yours and Eddies house, after hours in the kitchen and a quick fit from Motley you had fully prepped the table. 

Now everyone sat around it, trying not to laugh as Dustin tries to convince you to eat the mac n cheese he made, practically shoving the spoon in your mouth. 

“No! I eat that and I die!” You laugh, slapping the spoon away. 

“Who would take care of the kids?” Jonathan gasps in fake astonishment. “Me right?”

“You’d only get the kids if Lucas died.” You shrug which makes Lucas smile in triumph.

“I knew it-”

“And you only get my girls if Erica dies.” Eddie interrupts. “And that’s if Dustin is dead.”

A laugh tears from your throat as Dustin claps, but you’re quick to stop him. “And that’s if Steve is dead.”

“And if Steve has them then Nancy is dead.” Eddie laughs. 

“Who has to die for me to get them?!” Mike asks, face red and puffy. El laughs and Max rolls her eyes. 

“Let me guess, if Nancy has them then I am dead?” Max scoffs, and you go a bit tense. 

“Well in this entire hypothesis that means I am dead, so that’s a bit mean.” Eddie giggles. “Because if my girl is dead then they go to me.”

“No they wouldn’t.” Max laughs, which makes the table go a little quiet. “They’d go to their dad.”

“What?” Eddie asks as Motley giggles out a “PAPA!”

He turns to you, eyes wide. “That true?”

“Technically yes.” You mumble out, looking extremely guilty. “But only because-”

Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore, he slams his silverware down and storms down the hall, slamming the door loudly. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry-” Max starts, only to have you glare at her and move to grab Ziggy. 

- 

It had been a week since Eddie talked to you, he slept on the couch and only talked to the girls. The only communication he had with you was through the girls, and that was it. 

He made them pancakes, and took them to school and daycare. 

Right now he sat in Ziggys nursery as he tried to get her ready for the day, her only in a diaper as he sat in front of her. 

“Aw, come on. Gimme a smile, little baby.” He coos, wiggling his shoulders. “It’s such a cute dress and you know you want to wear it. Huh?”

“No, Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles. “Wuv yu.”

“Aww. I wuv yu too.” He laughs. “In fact I love you THIS MUCH!”

He opens his arms out wide which makes her giggle. “How much do you love me?”

“Dis Muck.” She giggles, opening her own arms wide. 

“Our arms are open, we gotta hug.” He laughs, pulling her in quickly which makes her scream and giggle, pushing him away as he kisses her stomach over and over. 

“PAPA IS HERE!” Motley screams from the living room which makes Eddie whip his head around to the door that had been closed. 

What? “MOMMY! MOMMY MOMMY! IT’S PAPA!” 

Eddie stands up quickly, Ziggy in his arms as he swings the door open, meeting your shocked face as you come up the stairs. 

“Did she say-?” He starts.

“I’m hoping not.” But as you are saying it there is a knock on the front door. So Eddie makes his way to the living room with Ziggy in his arms as you run to catch Motley before she answers the door. 

Choosing to do it yourself, Eddie watches with his heart in his stomach as the door swings open and he is met with-

No.Fucking. Way.

Part ll HERE

(Would y'all want a part 2? If you send in requests for blurbs or scenarios of Eddie and the girls I will 100% write them. Send em in.)

Taglist:: (let me know if you want to be removed)

@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel

[thesesoldierboysarebi]

TF141 Types of Men they like Most (all of them are bi)

Ghost: looks-wise, he likes two types: a man who can keep up with him athletically— in other words, a fellow soldier— or a twink. He can’t resist a skinny academic type. I hc that this is because his first boy crush in secondary school was this adorable nerdy kid with big oversized glasses who tutored him in English and history. You never forget your first crush. As for personality, Ghost likes a man who’s gonna be a bit of a shit to him. Annoy him. Call him on his bluff! It’s good for him. But he also likes a sweet man, sweet and nerdy like his first crush. Maybe he’s just a nerd lover, who knows.

Soap: Johnny, like the rest of his squad, is never ever going to beat the allegations of blue collar/soldier men being attracted to alt/punk/goth types. So he tends to fiend over quiet, sultry type of men. He’s fine with them being bigger or smaller, but Emo and goth guys can Get It. Tragically, however, Soap’s only so far been able to successfully take home fellow gym rats. But he has hope! As for personality, well. He likes the more quiet and introverted type of guys to contrast with his loud, boisterous personality. But he won’t say no to a fellow sunshine boy.

Price: he realized quite late in his life that he was bisexual, so he’s had quite an exploratory period to try and determine what kind of men he likes. Generally speaking, he tends to veer towards fellow bears and older gentlemen, because he’s a little concerned about just how many twenty-something twinks and femboys he attracts, like a fucking porch light attracting moths. It’s ridiculous to watch when he steps into the gay bars. He’s flattered, boys! But he doesn’t want to date anyone more than eight years under his age. However, he has dated a young artist and goth or two. Physically wise, he likes someone shorter than him because he likes being the Strong One in a relationship. Personality? Same as with women, someone emotionally mature and kind who knows what he wants. And maybe mouths off to him to he can do some brat taming.

Gaz: oh, Gaz loves a himbo. He watched the Disney Hercules at a tender age and that Wonder Boy has lived in his brain rent-free ever since. He also likes nerdy types, like Ghost, and their taste in men often aligns without realizing it. He just likes a sweet, kinda dumb guy. In fact, for a while, I hc that Gaz harbored a small crush on Soap for similar reasons— before it became clear that Johnny MacTavish was just a little too rambunctious for him to handle. But yes, Gaz likes a well-built guy, likes fellow soldiers, likes another guy he can geek out about favorite movies and shows together. For Gaz, it’s a little more comfortable for him to develop a friendship with a man before pursuing a relationship. However, on occasion, Gaz can and will fiend for a dilf the way he fiends for milfs.

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 13. Tainted by instinct

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

— A/N: I'm baaaack! I'm sorry for not writing for the longest time, my dears. I went through a bit of a writer's block and work and life didn't help either, but I finally pulled myself together 😂 I do want to finish this story. This is more of a contemplative chapter, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway ❤️ Thank you for being so patient! 😘

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs @mrsjobarnes

Before us, all methods of learning were tainted by instinct. Before us, instinct-ridden researchers possessed a limited attention span — often no longer than a single lifetime. Projects stretching across fifty or more generations never occurred to them. The concept of total muscle/nerve training had not entered their awareness. We learned how to learn. — Bene Gesserit Azhar Book

It disturbed her how comfortable she was beginning to find mornings with Feyd-Rautha. And if she felt safe and cool and protected in his arms, appreciated for her mere human presence, how must he have felt after so many weeks together…? He already felt comfortable enough to confess that he dreamed of her, which not any man would do. But Feyd wasn’t just any man.

She turned in his arms and looked at him while he was sleeping. His body was starkly pale against the black Harkonnen sheets, reminding her of just how vulnerable he was. His body may’ve had the soft curves of muscles on his shoulders and his arms, his strong thighs, his stomach toned and firm, and a blade was as deadly in his hands as a Lasgun in the arms of a Sardaukar, but he was just a little boy. His lips were softly pouting in sleep, his brow was smooth and slightly damp with sweat. She found herself wishing now more than ever that he had hair so that she could run her fingers through it.

And as if he felt her thoughts, he smiled and peeked one eye open.

“I knew it,” he muttered sleepily, then closed his eyes again and stretched in his distinctive, feline way. “What are you doing?”

“You said you knew,” she smirked.

“Cheeky witch.”

He ended his stretch by casting an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, burying his face against her chest. He didn’t do it as the prelude to anything, she somehow knew that. He was just resting against her and taking comfort in the beating of her heart.

“You were watching me sleep,” he mumbled. “Like some sort of predator.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I don’t mind… As long as I’m your only prey.”

She laughed softly. “Somehow, I doubt you’ve ever been anybody’s prey.”

“You’d be surprised.”

She embraced him loosely and traced his spine with the tips of her fingers. It made him shiver and purr. He wrapped a leg around her waist and pulled himself even more deeply into her. He was such a classic example of a motherless boy, he may well have been in a Bene Gesserit textbook on the topic. The memory of her lessons made her shiver too, but less pleasantly than Feyd did… Her instincts told her to use her knowledge and mould him to her needs, and breaking herself away from those teachings was harder than she anticipated. There was, if she were honest, a certain amount of guilt associated with putting them aside while she was with him. She felt like a traitor. Her rational mind told her this was by design, but it didn’t make it easier. She asked herself — where was her will in all of this? With the Bene Gesserit teachings on the one side and Feyd’s desires on the other, where did she stand?

The more she lingered on this question, the greater a sense of anger grew. Ever since childhood, she’d been taught to think in a certain way, to speak a certain way, to move a certain way, and until she went back out into the world she never questioned it. She still hardly questioned it, or was just beginning to… The teachings of the Bene Gesserits were, for the longest time, the only ones to live by. Crashing upon the open universe through her experiences had been a slow and persistent shock that continued even as she lay quietly in Feyd’s arms. She wondered how different her life might’ve been if raised under different circumstances, by different people… By people who cared about her.

And she realised Feyd wasn’t that much different either. Whatever kind of life he’d had on his home planet, the Baron had taken that away from him, moulded him the way she too was moulded, if in a different direction. He wasn’t his own person, either. She wondered if that made him angry too. She wondered if he planned to do anything about it. She wondered, most deeply and ardently, if he wanted to.

A heaviness built up behind her eyes, tears of mourning for a wasted life, and her first reflex was to bury this useless feeling. What purpose could tears possibly serve — so taught the Bene Gesserits — if not used for manipulation? And on Arrakis, wasting tears was a kind of profanity. But beneath the veil of all these rules and traditions, the small, hard kernel of herself defied them all. She had a right to mourn herself if she wanted to, and she had a right to mourn Feyd’s wasted life, too. She held him more tightly and buried her face into his neck as if being absorbed into his being would rescue her.

“Hmmm… Thinking again,” he mumbled — a statement, not a question. Still, he held her close, his big palm cupping the back of her head.

“I don’t want to play that game anymore,” she said, not hiding how morose she was.

“Which one?”

“Predator and prey.”

“You know I was only jesting…”

“But you weren’t. There was a truth to it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said it.”

He pulled back and looked at her. She could feel his hot gaze on her even though she kept her eyes closed, her cheek flush with his naked chest.

“What is this about?”

“You are right about more things than you realise,” she sighed. “You’re just not used to speaking them with the gravity they deserve.”

“And you aren’t used to giving me a straight answer.” He was fully awake now though, with cold clarity in his eyes as he scowled at her.

She traced her fingers up his spine until she reached the back of his head, where the softness of muscle was replaced by the hard bone of his skull.

“I don’t think I dare give you straight answers,” she confessed. “You’re not used to hearing them. You wouldn’t believe them.”

“Try me.”

“No,” she said, and braved the growl that came out of him. For the product of a hyperindustrialised planet, he had such pure savagery in him. “I’ll tell you when you’re ready.”

“And you think you know my mind better than me?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a Bene Gesserit if I didn’t,” she smirked.

Feyd didn’t find that very amusing, but he went back to nuzzling her throat. She scratched his scalp gently as a reward, drawing senseless circles until he purred again.

When the sun started to heat the room and sounds reached them from the castle corridors of the servants beginning their day and the changing of the guards, they finally disentangled themselves from one another and got up. She helped dress him and freshened up the inking on his teeth, and without asking he helped her dress as well. His hands wandered, fingers pulling clumsily at the laces, tying them a bit too tightly. She wondered if he was being bad at it on purpose.

“So you want to spend the whole morning fussing with this, do you?” she asked, placing her hands on his to stop the messy knot he was making.

“Oh, I’ve taken it off often enough to know how to put it back on,” said Feyd with a grin.

“Evidently not. Step aside.”

He didn’t, of course, but he let her push him and watched her finish dressing herself, his arms crossed over his chest. Even through all that black material, it was as if he could see all of her. Or perhaps he just approved of the colour.

“Want to join me today?” he suddenly said.

“Where?” she asked, turning to look at him.

“Command room.”

It had been a while since she’d been permitted to be there, and he’d scarcely given the impression that he truly cared about what she thought. Oh, he wanted a Bene Gesserit alright, but he just saw it as another flavour of concubine rather than a real advisor — or at most, as a sort of mother-bride.

“I’m not sure what use I could be,” she said as she brushed down the folds of her dress.

“Don’t want to help me conquer this flaming pit of a planet?” asked Feyd, a crinkle of resentment in his eye that he could barely hide. “Or do you just not like to see the Fremen dying?”

“I know nothing of military strategy,” she smirked, “remember?”

He huffed a sigh and trotted past her to grab his blades, and with a jerking movement sheathed them.

“Come on, then. Let’s have breakfast. Then you’re allowed to go your own way, as usual,” he grumbled, then stepped outside to the brisque salute of the guards.

She followed quietly, a small shadow with clipped steps, going unnoticed by the crashing waves of bowing heads Feyd marched between. What the other Harkonnens or local workers of Arrakeen thought of her presence by the Planetary Governor lately, she couldn’t say. It was difficult enough to read Feyd’s true thoughts, lately. A few months ago, she would’ve found that unnerving… But as she watched the pale back of his head, tension obvious in his shoulders, arms stiff by his side as if he itched to grab a dagger, she could only smile. He was frightening, but he was still hers, in a way, and she allowed through her whole body to flow that feeling of tenderness which was particular to blood relatives, or lovers.

To his credit, he swallowed his discontent, his suspicion of her and her ever-shifting thoughts, while they had breakfast. He even smiled as he passed her one of his favourite treats, a folded pastry with a yellow cream inside, sprinkled on top with a meld of sugar and melange.

“You’ve forgiven me, then?” she said as she took a bite.

“What was there to forgive?” he asked airily.

“Nothing at all,” she said, all too happy to avoid having to disclose her thoughts, her growing tenderness for him, her un-womanly desire to betray her order and save him.

“Well then,” said Feyd, growing serious again at her evasion, “since there’s nothing to forgive, I haven’t forgiven you.”

She ate quietly but not without a little smile. She tolerated him when he was his petulant princeling self, but she liked him far better when he put his mind to use, even if it was just to say something clever. It made her see in him the qualities of Harkonnens past, that sharpness and alacrity which first drew the Bene Gesserits’ attention to them as good candidates for the breeding program.

When she parted from him, bowing low, he didn’t react. He was still upset with her. In his silence and coldness of being he tried to keep to himself in much the same way she did, as revenge — but he was still a little boy and didn’t realise that when he was being silent he most betrayed what he was feeling.

He longs for closeness by any means, she thought. Physically, mentally, emotionally… It hurts him not to know what I was thinking in the morning, in his arms. Well, he can suffer it a while longer.

While Feyd dealt with the Fremen, she went to meditate at her usual spot — shadowed and dry and away from the servants, inside a little alcove in a forgotten balcony, with the smell of burnt sand upon the wind and the morning dew melting in the air. She wanted to help Feyd, that much she could recognise in herself now without any of the shame that an obedient Bene Gesserit sister might feel — because she wasn’t obedient anymore, neither to the sisterhood, nor to the Harkonnens, or even to Feyd himself… If anything, she far preferred it when he was obedient to her. Not only did those precious little moments make her feel safe, but when he submitted she could let flow all of those latent, perfectly animal, ancient feelings of love. It felt both sensual and motherly, like a forbidden treat that melted on her tongue. She licked her lips and caught faint traces of the melange from breakfast.

And when she closed her eyes, with the Arrakis wind lapping against her ears, she saw a vision of blue waters swaying, and the sweat that beaded on her brow was sea spray splashing as it hit the rocks. The scent of burning stone as the hot sun hit the palace tasted of salt to her, and the distant marching of troops became paddles pushing a large vessel forward. She saw this vision as much as she felt it and knew in an instinctive way that this reality existed somewhere, whether now or in the future. She reached out with her mind, trying to sense how far away this world was. The response surprised her — it felt not far away, but past. Not so much distant within space as within time… And it felt peaceful.

She yearned to be there, on that strange planet, wet and cold, with Arrakis far behind her, with an empty expanse of black rocks on all sides and the sounds of a turbulent sea beneath her. She let herself lay down in this vision, her back resting on uneven stones, and faced the sky. It was a pale blue, nearly white, with large grey birds circling and cutting through the clouds. Her skin felt stiff with an overflow of chill and her lungs felt full and light. Was this planet Caladan, the home of House Atreides? She’d never been there, but she knew it to be oceanic, lush with life, the very opposite of Dune. Why would her meditations pull her there? Would Feyd invade it? Would she join him? It didn’t seem that way… All about her was peace.

A deeper rumble sang throughout her bones, in dissonance with the place her mind had run to, and as the thrumming got closer and bubbled above her consciousness, she came to realise it was something in the present. With a broken heart, she opened her eyes and found herself lying on the floor, facing the brown ceiling. Behind her, through the wide corridors of the palace, troops were in motion. Was there an attack?

She heaved herself up and shook the dust off her dress, and went to find Feyd in case he had need of her. She hoped he did… She wanted an excuse to be with someone just then, even under the guise of a soulless Bene Gesserit.

[sicko4smut]

Everybody’s A Suspect! | B. Floyd

synopsis: A string of murders in the fall of ‘84 in a small town shakes the residents of WoodSprings to their core

warnings: violence, murder, eventual smut, gore, porn with a whole lot of plot, inaccuracies of the 80s (have mercy), personal head cannons of characters/dynamics, dubious consent, pushy male characters who can’t take no, bullying, physical harm, other warnings i can’t think of right now

PSA- i do not own any characters, names, ideas, or royalties of the ‘Scream Franchise’ or ‘Top Gun Maverick’

CHAPTERS

📼 1.1 - A Body…In WoodSprings?

PLAYLIST 📻 (no particular order)

The Perfect Girl - Mareux

Dark Red - Steve lacey

Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell

Hidden In The Sand - Tally Hall

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley

Smooth Criminal- Micheal Jackson

Arms Tonite - Mother Mother

Sippy Cup - Melanie Martinez

Headlock - Imogen Heap

♪♫♪

─•────

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

MEET THE CHARACTERS

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 🏈 - Jake Seresin as ‘Dumb Jock’

* Jake is captain of the football team and son of the town’s mayor, super rich boy vibes

* Wholeheartedly believes you and him should be together because he is captain of football team and your cheer captain

* All brawns no brain up there, his poor skull is sitting there collecting dust and head trauma from getting tackled one too many times. 🏆 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ ࿔

🎸⋆⭒˚｡- Bradley Bradshaw as ‘Punk Outcast’

* Rooster is a free-spirited, rule-less, angsty, outcast

* Stays to himself and rarely ever talks, seriously no one has heard the guy say more than three words since high school

* working to put himself through college even though the stress from college and work is kinda making him flunk out

* Butts heads with Jake, two sides of different coins mixed with egos, passive aggression, and LOTS of testosterone leading to many physical fights between the boys. ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚

☥🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - Nat as ‘Freak Loner’

* Out of her nerdy, timid shell from high school and free as can be…Natasha has voiced her disdain for all oppressive nature and love of the unknown, terrifying, and paranormal.

* She doesn’t feel the need to pretend to be uninterested in her education to fit her aesthetic when all is said and done, Natasha wants something to call her own and a degree is just that. So she’s willing to swallow her pride on how the world forces you into school for years right into the capitalist system of working for even longer before screwing you over even more the longer you let them..though she sure won’t be quiet about it

* But don’t be fooled by her dark makeup, passionate outburst, and spooky demeanor as hard she tries to bury her, that nerdy timid girl within Nat keeps kicking no matter how hard she beats her down. 𓉸ྀི ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ -You as ‘The Town’s Sweetheart’

* You never wanted for anything in life for as long as you could remember, born with a silver spoon in your mouth however you were never snotty about it…never let it get to your head

* Miss goody-two-shoes as you were called was always the first one to volunteer your help whenever needed, first to be picked for the cheer team, first to speak up when someone was being bullied, first place in the Woodsprings beauty pageant, Prom Queen, Co-class president, captain of dance committee. It was all honestly a little overboard but you loved it all, love how busy it made you and how you were praised by seemingly everyone around you.

* Your family being the second wealthiest people in Woodsprings (thank you mommy and daddy) it was a given you never worried about how you were going to pay for college, the thought never crossing your mind until you overhear some peers complaining about how THREE jobs weren’t even enough to cover book fees so they would have to go to the local community college instead…it left you with an odd feeling never really having had the chance to acknowledge your privilege °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⊹₊⟡⋆ 🔪 - Bob Floyd as ‘Ghostface’

* The man of the hour, our beloved robby. Fed up with being bullied and patronized, bob fights back…he didn’t mean for the guy to die but he would be lying is he said he didn’t like the silence that came with one less of those losers gone.

* Sweet boy who lives with his single mother trying to help her pay bills by working a variety of on campus jobs, from handyman to security to library assistant…anything that pays to lighten the load off her back

* Geek Charming in the flesh, bob but always robby to you has always been super smart which is why he was head of chess club, class president, and valedictorian in high school and awarded a full-ride scholarship to Woodsprings University

* Robby has had a crush on you since the first grade, it’s honestly a mix between creepy and embarrassing how bad he had it for you but you rarely noticed him anyway. When you did seem to remember his existence you were always so sweet just like he knew you to be his sweet girl

🪓 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

• This a masterlist/promotion for a WIP soon to be fic

• All actual chapters will be published on my main account @smutmaniac

• Please like and reblog

[wroetolando]

𝚒𝙿𝚊𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚍 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 | 𝙲𝚂𝟻𝟻

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where carlos can’t go anywhere without his ipad

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: digital love - daft punk

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Carlos Sainz prided himself on being a mature, responsible adult. He was a Ferrari Formula 1 driver, a world-class athlete, and a man of discipline and focus. At least, that’s what he told himself.

But you knew better.

There had been too many instances—too many moments where the evidence was stacked against him. At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, but as time went on, you realized something undeniable.

Carlos Sainz would never, ever beat the iPad kid allegations.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Exhibit A: The Flight to Monaco

It all started on a flight. You were traveling to Monaco together, Carlos sitting by the window, you in the aisle, and Charles on the other side aisle. It was supposed to be a calm, relaxing flight. You figured Carlos would take a nap, read something, or maybe watch a documentary like the well-rounded adult he claimed to be.

But as soon as the plane reached cruising altitude, he reached into his backpack and pulled out his iPad with the efficiency of a man who had done this routine many times before.

Charles looked over, curiosity piqued. “What are you doing?”

Carlos didn’t answer. He was already focused, AirPods in, iPad propped up on the tray table like a businessman preparing for an important meeting. You leaned over to get a look at the screen, expecting maybe a race replay, a strategy breakdown—something F1-related.

But no. It was Clash of Clans.

You blinked. “Carlos… seriously?”

He barely spared you a glance as his fingers tapped rapidly against the screen, deploying troops with expert precision. “What?”

“You’re playing Clash right now?”

“Sí.” He didn’t even hesitate. His brow furrowed in concentration, eyes glued to the screen.

You shared a look with Charles, who was barely holding back a laugh. “Do you at least have a maxed-out base?” you asked.

Carlos hesitated for just a moment, and that was enough.

“…That is not important,” he muttered, subtly angling his iPad away so you couldn’t see the state of his village.

Charles snorted. “Mate, you’re an actual child.”

Carlos ignored him. The game was more important.

And that was the first red flag.

Exhibit B: The Team Dinner Incident

You tried to convince yourself that maybe the iPad gaming was just a way for him to pass time on flights. Maybe it wasn’t a habit, just something to keep his mind occupied when traveling.

But then came the dinner incident.

You were out with some of the Ferrari engineers, enjoying a nice meal in Italy. It was a team bonding night, everyone engaged in conversation, laughter filling the air. Carlos had been part of the discussion for the first twenty minutes, contributing the occasional remark—until he got suspiciously quiet.

At first, you thought he was just tired. Then, you heard it.

The unmistakable chime of Candy Crush.

Your eyes widened. You turned slowly to Carlos, who was sitting beside you, his hand discreetly under the table. His eyes were locked downward, barely blinking.

“Carlos,” you whispered.

No response. His finger swiped across the screen.

“Carlos.”

He flinched, finally looking up. “Hm?”

Charles, who was sitting across from him, squinted. “No. There’s no way.”

Carlos shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

Charles leaned forward. “Are you playing on your iPad right now?”

“…No.”

“Mate.”

“…I was just finishing a level.”

The entire table went silent. Then, the engineers burst into laughter, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Fred Vasseur sighed. “I expect this from the rookies, not my senior driver.”

Carlos huffed, slipping the iPad back into his bag. But the damage was done.

You leaned in close, voice teasing. “You couldn’t even wait until after dinner?”

He crossed his arms like a petulant child. “It was a hard level.”

You had to admit, the dedication was impressive. But it was also getting out of hand.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Exhibit C: The Rain Delay in Singapore

A few months later, at the Singapore Grand Prix, the rain caused a massive delay. Drivers were left waiting in their garages, uncertain about when they’d be able to race. Most of them passed the time by talking to their engineers, watching weather updates, or mentally preparing for the race.

Carlos?

Carlos had made himself comfortable on the Ferrari couch, legs stretched out, blanket draped over his lap, iPad in hand.

“What’s he doing?” Lando asked, walking into the Ferrari garage.

Charles sighed, already used to this. “What do you think?”

You stood beside them, arms crossed as you watched your boyfriend, fully absorbed in Minecraft.

Lando’s jaw dropped. “No way.”

Carlos didn’t even acknowledge the three of you. His fingers were moving quickly, placing blocks down with practiced ease.

“…Is he in creative mode?” Lando whispered, horrified.

You nodded grimly. “Yes.”

“And I bet he’s building a house, isn’t he?”

Carlos finally looked up, as if sensing the disrespect. “I am building a very nice house.”

Lando turned to you. “You need to do something about this.”

“I’ve tried.”

Carlos huffed. “You guys are acting like this is a problem.”

“Because it is!” Charles exclaimed. “You’re literally addicted.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I just like to play sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Carlos, do I need to remind you about the flight? The dinner? The Candy Crush incident?”

Carlos tried to look innocent. “I do not know what you mean.”

Lando shook his head, patting your shoulder sympathetically. “He’s too far gone.”

You sighed. At this point, you had accepted the truth.

Carlos Sainz was, and always would be, an iPad kid.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Exhibit D: The Final Straw

It wasn’t until one fateful night that you realized just how deep the addiction ran.

You were at home, curled up on the couch, trying to pick a movie for the night. You had everything ready—the popcorn, the blankets, the perfect setup for a cozy evening.

But Carlos was quiet. Too quiet.

Suspicious, you turned your head, and there he was. Blanket draped over his shoulders, iPad propped up on his knees, fully immersed in a game.

“Carlos,” you said slowly.

No response.

You leaned in, peering over his shoulder.

He was on Roblox.

“…Carlos.”

He jolted, looking at you like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “Qué?”

You pointed at the screen. “Are you playing Roblox obbies right now?”

“…No.”

“Carlos.”

“…Maybe.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. “You are unbelievable.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Cariño, it helps me relax.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You literally drive a Formula 1 car for a living. And this is what relaxes you?”

“Yes.”

You sighed, finally giving in. “You know what? Fine. But if I ever see you pulling out that iPad at another dinner, we’re going to have a serious talk.”

Carlos smirked, clearly unbothered. “Okay.”

You stared at him. “You’re totally going to do it again, aren’t you?”

He simply smiled, pressing play on his game.

And in that moment, you knew—Carlos Sainz would never, ever beat the iPad kid allegations.

And, despite everything… you still loved him for it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Neo Bowser City (aka Koopa City in PAL regions)

Debut: Mario Kart 7

Do you ever think of all the weird locations we only ever see in Mario Kart games? Despite being the biggest of all of Mario's spin-off franchises, when you really get down to it, remarkably few Mario Kart courses are actually based on established Mario locations!

It's not none, there's the occasional Donut Plains and Tick-Tock Clock and Airship Fortress, but most of the courses are these weird one-off locations we never see outside the context of that specific racetrack.

But have you ever taken a moment to step back and like, think of the Lore Implications of some of these places?

Like okay! Bowser just owns this whole dang cyberpunk city and we only ever see it in the context of Kart Racing! How messed up is that?!

One day Mario and Friends were looking for new places to race, and Bowser must have said something like "Gwah-hah-hah! I bet you puny punks could NEVER beat me in a race in my cyberpunk metropolis!" and right then and there it was established that Bowser owns a cyberpunk metropolis. Neo Bowser City is a city that exists in the Super Mario World and aside from returning in other Mario Kart games, it hasn't been acknowledged before or since.

Neo Bowser City first appeared in Mario Kart 7, as the third course in the Star Cup. Despite its flashy visuals, it actually doesn't really have a whole lot going on. It's a difficult track with some tight turns made more difficult by the rain making things more slippery, but besides that it doesn't really have any of the Wacky Obstacles that define so many Mario Kart courses.

Then it returned in Mario Kart 8 looking more gorgeous than ever! The bright colors really pop out, and the whole track is just oozing with detail that really emphasizes the scale of this city!

But like, the emphasized scale really only further raises the question of where this exists in the Mario World. Clearly, the fact that Bowser is plastered all over the billboards and the fact it's named "Neo Bowser City" helps us deduce that this city probably belongs to Bowser. Is this located in Bowser's Kingdom? Just how big is Bowser's Kingdom? And why does he own so many separate castles?

Maybe Neo Bowser City exists in the future? Is this a bad timeline? I mean, Mario Kart is allowed to have time-travel shenanigans. There's a Splatoon battle arena and that exists thousands of years in the future so sure, dust off Mario's Time Machine and head to the bad future where Bowser wins. Should've pressed that New Super Mario Bros. big yellow P-Switch!

I asked my friend Mod Chikako for their input and their theory is that Neo Bowser City isn't the future of Mario's world, but of our world. Clearly Bowser just couldn't take Wreck-It-Ralph losing the Oscar vote!

But in that case I guess it's a cooler cyberpunk future than the one we're living in right now. Corporate monopolies that run mass-surveillance with little government intervention due to their extreme wealth giving them extensive political power? No thank you! Neo Bowser City has bright neon colors, and flying cars! If I'm going to live in a dystopia, I want it to be a fun one. The only advertisements I want to see plastered everywhere are ones advertising Bowser!

Boo! That's the bad guy! Thumbs down!

The course returns again in that pitiful mobile game with another redesign, this time letting us see his Coney Island Disco Palace off in the distance. Does Bowser live in his Neo City? Is this worldbuilding we've been missing out on for decades, finally answered by a kart racer? Is this the capital city of Bowser's Kingdom? Am I once again falling victim to my perpetual hubris of overthinking the Mario franchise?

Really, I can't offer too much in terms of wacky fan theories, because I'm still thinking about this location existing in the first place. I'd love to know the Lore and worldbuilding here, but I guess the nature of Mario's canon is that it doesn't need to be over-analyzed. Bowser simply owns a cyberpunk metropolis, we'll only ever see it in the context of kart racing, and maybe that's okay.

Of course, this post wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention Dinohattan from the 1993 Super Mario Bros. Movie, which we've barely talked about on this blog somehow. You see, when the meteor hit, some of the dinosaurs escaped into a parallel timeline where they then evolved into humans, and then they built Dinohattan instead of Manhattan. Get it? Yeah, that movie is all sorts of bonkers. I wouldn't say it's very good, but I kinda love it. I'd recommend checking it out, if only to see a vastly different take on Mario than you'd be used to.

Anyway I bring this up because it's a completely separate instance of a version of Bowser building a large cyberpunk metropolis, and it actually predates Neo Bowser City! Do you think they could be connected? Are Dinohattan and Neo Bowser City one and the same...?

[shadow4-1]

okay but considering Ghosts upbringing in the punk scene, that shit with his father,, how do u think he feels about drugs in general? i mean, im super sure he knows his way around them at the very least

(Based on a true story. CW: Drug Usage)

Simon would always remember that night.

He'd never felt fear like that night. No amount of skull masks, drunken beatings, or near death encounters would ever shake him like that night.

"Have you seen him?" Their mother was beside herself. Simon was used to her babbling and squeals but this time she was nigh incoherent. She scratched at him through his jumper. His skin burned as she tried to shake an answer out of him.

"No, mum." He barely managed out. "Where was 'e last?"

"Th-the path..." She cried. "He wasn't speakin' right!"

Simon immediately knew where Tommy was.

He rushed out of the shithole flat and down the crumbling concrete sidewalks. He ran without thought. Even as his lungs burned from the kilometer sprint, he didn't hesitate.

He ran past the park, behind the strip, and into the woods. Down the path he kept at it. He jumped over the old, toppled willow, and slid down the side of the river's embankment. He could smell the waste and filth of the shanty set up. He tore through shrubbery and brush in the near darkness.

Tommy lay against a boulder, neck bent up towards the sky. His clothes were wet, his skin pasty yet flushed from the chill. Refuse lay strewn about him. A dingy rubberband was tied too tight around his elbow. No one was around.

"Tommy."

He shook his brother hard. He noticed bruising and welts all over Tommy's head and neck. He cradled Tommy's head, lifting his lids to get a look at his blown wide pupils.

"Shit."

Simon pulled out his cell and typed in the landline's number. His mother picked up.

"I've got him. Draw an ice bath."

He hung up.

Simon pulled his little brother into his arms. He carried him back to the flat, stopping occasionally to readjust his hold. It was physically taxing, but he didn't care.

His mother slammed open the door the moment Simon walked up the broken steps. She wailed and tried to pull Tommy out of his arms. He didn't want to shove her back with his shoulder but he didn't have a choice.

He made it into the tiny bathroom and laid Tommy's head down on the bathmat. Simon tried to wake him up again. No response. He glanced into the tub. It was empty.

"Fockin' 'ell, mum!" He screamed at the woman in the doorway. "I told ye' t' get th' fockin' ice!"

Their mother tried to hiccup out a reply but she was still inconsolable. He held Tommy's hand for a second before he got up. He pushed past their mother and ran out into the complex. He banged on door after door.

The neighbors that peeked their heads out at him weren't friends, but mere acquaintances. They knew of him, knew of Tommy, knew of their struggles. They knew of Simon's military background. They knew of his strength. Most of them offered up all of their ice when he nearly begged for it.

None of them offered to call the paramedics.

They knew better than to criticize his judgement.

The pretty young neighbor he'd fancied back in school took it upon herself to round everything up for him. She even managed to convince some of the female residents to call out their sons to help Simon. He reminded himself to marry her when this was all said and done.

He and his neighbors stripped Tommy bare. They drew a bath and threw in the ice. There were far to many bodies in the tiny bathroom but Simon didn't care. Helping hands lowered Tommy into the tub.

The moment Tommy hit the water he screamed. He thrashed and kicked and bellowed like a dying animal. Ice water was flung across the bathroom. The men around him tried to hold Tommy down. He kept screaming and spasming, completely incoherent.

Except he was finally conscious.

Simon cried as he held Tommy down by the chest. He didn't let up even as his brother began to shake from the cold. He didn't let up until Tommy was awake enough to respond to his own name.

Simon's pretty neighbor called the help out of the bathroom. She gave him a soft glance before closing the bathroom door to give them privacy. He reminded himself to marry her tommorow morning.

"Si..."

Tommy's voice was rough and shaky.

Simon pulled Tommy up into a sitting position. They locked eyes for a moment. Simon shook with rage and fear. His voice come out like that of a Ghost.

"You're getting clean."

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Drunk Bar Fight

Summary: You get into a fight, drunk, and Bucky has to step in to save you

Warning: Some swearing, reader gets called handsome

The liquor burns as it slides down your throat but you welcome the feeling like an old friend. You've lost count of how many bottles you've emptied, but you can't be bothered to try and count them, not that you can really see the individual bottles clearly with that spinning vision of yours.

"Someone's finally brave enough to steal our usual spot, boys." Someone slams the door of the bar open and strides in, slamming a hand on the counter next to your currently being emptied bottle. You ignore them, lifting the mouth of the bottle to your lips for another swig of the precious liquid when something sends the bottle flying. The glass shatters upon impact with the floor, spilling its contents all over wooden tiles.

"If you want a fight, just say the word. You don't have to drag my hard earned drinks into this." You stagger to your feet, wincing as the world spins dangerously around you. Growls of annoyance sound around you and something collides with your jaw, hard, sending you crashing into the counter before you can do anything.

Whatever that punch was knocked the wind out of you, leaving you wheezing on the floor but with a grin on your face. The pain that's currently exploding along your jaw makes you feel alive once more and you push yourself to your feet, laughing. Oh, this should be fun.

"What's so funny, punk?" One demands, yanking you towards them via the collar of your shirt. You wrinkle your nose at the rank smell emitting from their breath and bring your knee up, feeling your kneecap connect with their groin. Hard.

Your captor howls in pain, dropping you to the floor and you laugh again. There's just something about sober men losing to an inebriated person that's highly amusing.

"That," you gasp out between laughs. "That is funny."

A snarl of rage sounds from your right but your movements are too sluggish and flesh collides with your nose. You taste the familiar metallic tang of blood, yours, and groan. This is going to be rough. You sidestep the slow kick aimed at your crotch and throw a punch of your own, breaking a nose.

"A nose for a nose," you cackle. You dodge the next punch aimed your way, somehow, and land yet another punch of your own. It's a satisfying hit, hearing the scream of pain as you draw blood and you lean into the addicting feeling, throwing punch after punch at anyone within range.

Dodging gets harder the longer the fight goes on, probably because of how inebriated you are and you find yourself on the floor, your own blood splattered all over your clothes. Your chest is heaving from the exertion, knuckles raw and peeling but you're pretty sure you're winning. Kind of. Your head is swimming, body swaying and still you're putting up a pretty good fight. At least you think you're putting up a pretty good fight.

You've thrown enough hands to knock out about half of the gang, but the other half is giving you problems. Your jaw is throbbing painfully and it's difficult to see out of your left eye. Still, adrenaline is coursing through your veins and that's more than enough reason to keep the fight going. Besides, you feel most alive when everything hurts. The pain is far more invigorating than the alcohol and there's something about the person standing in front of you that is really asking for a smackdown.

"I really needed this." You haul yourself up unsteadily with the aid of the broken counter, hissing as splinters bury themselves into your palms. The pain is sharp, but it's a reminder that you're still alive, still here when everyone else is gone and you feel a splinter work itself into your heart.

"That's right, you really needed this beating." The one whom you assume is the leader sneers. "Now I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget."

You barely see it, the glass bottle raised high above your head that comes down and explodes into a shower of glass shards but you do feel the cuts that follow, adding more injuries to your already long list. A figure stands in front of you, clad in a maroon Henley, metal arm raised to block the bottle's impact.

"Wha —?" You mumble blearily, trying not to collapse right in front of the stranger.

"You really need to stop trying to get yourself killed." The stranger's deep voice rumbles. He turns back to face the remaining gang members and decimates them with practiced ease while you try not to pass out. In just a short while, only the two of you are left standing and the stranger stops just in front of you.

"You smell and look like shit."

"That's none of your business." You blindly grope for a full bottle to continue your drinking spree but a firm hand grips your wrist.

"That's enough." The stranger growls, pulling your hand away.

"Quit it! Let me do my thing and leave me alone!" You snap, trying to get free but his grip is too tight. It doesn't hurt, but it's firm enough to prevent your escape.

"Not while you're trying to drink yourself to death." His voice is gentle but leaves not room for argument. "Come on, let's go home."

"Home," you snort. "My home's long gone, in case you forgot with your old man memory."

"I didn't." He sits on one of the few still intact stools. "But that doesn't mean you can't find a new one."

"Oh and now you're a counselor?" You sit on another intact stool, watching as your blood seeps into the countertop cracks. Dark patches form on the light brown wood, painting a trail from your hands.

"Don't have the cert, dumbass." He pulls out a first aid kit from somewhere and pulls your injured palm towards him, laying it out on the table. "I just don't want to watch you throw your life away."

"Not throwing anything away," you mutter but let him tend to your injuries.

"So what's getting into a bar fight while drunk called?" He gently cleans out the wound with an alcohol swab, attending to them with an unusual level of tenderness.

"Leveling the playing field."

"You mean giving the opponent an advantage, judging by your current state." He purposely presses the swab a little harder on an open wound, causing you to hiss in pain.

"I was handling it fine!"

"Right, so why were you about to get your head caved in by a glass bottle?" Bucky finishes bandaging your hand and gestures towards the other. "Next."

You reluctantly let him attend to the injuries on your other hand, watching as he meticulously cleans it out and bandages it neatly without a single word. His eyebrows are creased with worry, lips tugged into a frown as he concentrates, then holds onto your hand for far longer than necessary before passing it back to you.

"I really would rather avoid having you die right in front of me." His voice is soft, lacking the usual bite and you realise he's being serious. He means it, every single word, and the thought is enough to make you start to tear up.

"I don't die so easily," you choke out. "I know from experience."

"Doesn't mean I can't worry." His gaze flicks to meet yours and you see the genuine concern in his eyes. "You…mean a lot to me, Y/N. More than you know. So don't go dying on me, you hear? I need you right here with me."

"Why?" The question is thick in your throat and your vision is further blurred by the tears that have started to fall. "Why me?"

He pauses, then shifts the stool he's sitting on closer to you. He reaches up, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your broken skin. "Because you're you."

You inhale sharply, struggling to keep whatever dignity you have left but it's a losing battle when Bucky is saying all the words you've needed to hear. He quietly gives you space, letting you initiate the physical contact and holds you when you collapse against him, body shaking from the cries you let out. You scream and wail, buried emotions finally spilling over but he doesn't judge you, not a single bit.

"You are not your failures, you are not your past," he whispers, telling you and reminding himself of that fact. "We are not defined by our past, and we can become better than it."

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you feel warmth bloom in your chest. "You're not alone. You will always have me, whether you like it or not."

You sniff in response, squeezing your eyes shut which sends a stab of pain through your left eye. You hiss and he panics, tilting your chin up to check your face.

"You really look like shit."

"Let me give you a black eye and then we'll see who really looks like shit."

His lips quirk up into a smile, "I doubt you'll ever manage to give me a black eye. You're too slow for that."

You open your mouth to protest but he sweeps you off your feet, literally, and carries you out of the bar. You attempt to protest but he ignores your feeble attempts, heading straight for his safehouse.

"It's faster this way." He snorts, dumping you on his couch.

"It's embarrassing."

"Too bad." He dips into the kitchen to retrieve an ice pack. "Got to make you handsome again as soon as possible so I don't have to see your ugly mug for too long."

"But I have to see yours?"

"I'm not the one who's injured."

"Blergh." You stick out your tongue at him and he does it back, rolling his eyes as well.

"What a child."

"Right back at you."

He can't help but huff in amusement, pressing the ice pack to your swollen eye. "Hold it there, I'll get more for the rest of your bruises."

"Yes dad."

He presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Promise me, you won't go about dying on me again?"

You search his gaze, your heart thundering in your chest.

"Promise."

[pinksugarscrub]

Strawberry Milkshakes

Skater! Hobie Brown x Ballerina! Reader

He was a punk. She did ballet. What more can I say?

Thank you for your patience! Le college has been kicking my ah so I immensely appreciate it and of course a special thank you to my beta reader @hyperfix-wip

word count: 1508

warnings: feelings? snooty ballerinas?

~

Your limbs are sore but you find no complaint on your lips as you sit next to Hobie. The pain isn’t unbearable. Not in the way it usually is after hours of being in your pointe shoes. The leather of your skates somehow isn’t grating compared to the silk ribbons.

You never quite liked the quiet before. Yes the streets were full of cars and birds were chirping- but between the two of you not a word was said and it felt ok. No…expectations.

Adorning the pink leather bracelet he had given you, (that you haven’t taken off since first period) you trace the studs. Wondering what to say just to hear his voice again because though you may like the silence, you like the space he fills in your heart. 

“I don’t think I fit in.” Spills from your lips and you’re not sure you’ll regret it until you see his response. 

Hobie shifts his attention to you at the sound of your voice. He’s confused but more than willing to listen as he gestures for you to continue. Gravel crunches underneath his shoes. Beat up, bleached, and hidden under torn jeans.

“I know it isn’t true but it’s like all of these thoughts in my head are real possibilities.” You continued, tugging on a blade of grass. “I know I have a place here but what if that doesn’t matter? What if that changes and I’m left behind?” Rolling your feet back and forth anxiously you look toward the setting sun. You spent all afternoon with Hobie and yet it didn’t feel like enough. The hours went by too quickly for your own liking. 

“I have friends but what do they think of me? Why do I feel so left out? Why am I always so scared they’ll pick someone else over me.” 

When Hobie’s hand falls over your own you want to tug it away. You don’t want to be comforted. It makes you feel weak.

“What if I’m not good enough for anyone?”

Hobie taps on the back of your hand. Lips pursed. The sound of laughter mixes with the city noise. Kids playing on slides that still burned from the sun and created static that made their hair stand on end.

“It’s lonely.” He finally adds onto the conversation and judging by the look of confusion he receives it’s your turn to listen.

Hobie pulls his hand away. Setting his hand on the grip tape of his board. It digs into his palms but it distracts from the lump in his throat. “I mean, for everyone. No matter who you are, you never stop feeling like that.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods.

A shriek of glee causes you to turn your head but your eyes are back on Hobie within a second. You want to hold him. Indirectly comfort yourself by being able to support him.

You’ve seen so many different sides to him ever since you started meeting here.

From an outside perspective Hobie always seemed so confident and self-assured. Like he didn’t need anyone. You guess that’s why before the start of your friendship it was easy to follow along with your friends. Laugh at his expense. Joke because you were too much of a coward to express yourself the way he did. You’ll never forgive yourself for being so close minded but you’ll spend the rest of your time together making up for it.

“It’s complicated, for me.” His voice grew thicker. Like honey. But instead of the sweet taste meant to soothe it's the way it uncomfortable sticks to your fingers and clothes. “I’m so used to people bashing on me it’s just easier to block them out. So I don’t have to think about it.”

The sky grows pink and suddenly it’s harder to see but that doesn’t matter. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“I don’t want to think about it.” Hobie says in a quiet voice. “All I’ve ever needed is me. Don’t want to admit I want more than that, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you answer. Eyes glossing over as you look away. “I do but…I don’t feel that way about you.” 

Hobie’s chest feels tight while yours feels like it’s about to combust. 

Hobie could fade out of existence or more specifically, your life after graduation. Less and less texts until he becomes an unknown number on your contact list. It’s just—Hobie Brown would never pretend to be something or hide from you. He was honest and kind and smart and oh…so wonderful.

What could he say in response to that? Hobie doesn’t know but he slides a hand around your waist and tugs you closer and this time, he doesn’t question what you are. He doesn’t guess what these frequent meetings have meant when you’ve answered his questions so perfectly.

Hobie presses his nose to your hair. He wants to kiss you but he doesn’t know if he should. So he settles for this. 

He doesn’t want to go home and what can he do to prolong the inevitable? He perks up suddenly as he inhales your scent again. “Hey, want a strawberry shake? On me?” 

Under the fluorescent light Hobie still looked beautiful to you. You find yourself wishing every night would end with the two of you under the stars even in this light polluted city. 

“Yeah, sounds perfect.” 

Hobie smiles. That lopsided smile that isn’t like the ones he normally gives at school. 

He almost slips and you try not to laugh because he must have forgotten he was sitting on his board. You take his hand and slowly roll to his car. Let him sit you on the trunk and unlace your skates. 

Your watch ticks five minutes past eight o’clock but you don’t care. Hobie is worth breaking your curfew. 

-

The air conditioning hits you in a wave as you step foot inside the dinner. Reaching behind you, you already find Hobie’s fingers intertwined with your own.

“How many?”

“Two please.” Hobie responds to the waitress. Grinning, he notices the older woman glancing down at your hands. “Thanks Joan.”

She giggles and grabs a few menus. “Right this way.”

‘Joan?’ You mouth once her back is turned. You wouldn’t have pegged Hobie to have enough of a sweet tooth to be on a first name basis with her but to each their own you suppose. 

“Written on her name tag love,” Hobie whispers. Tapping a finger of his chest and smiling when you falter in your step.

He’ll definitely be calling you that more often.

Before you can sit in the chair as opposed to the booth Hobie’s coaxing you into your seat. Squeezing your hand before sitting across from you in that same rocky chair that makes your back hurt.

You aren’t hungry and neither is Hobie so strawberry shakes are all you order and fries after you think about it for a moment.

You argue about the salty sweet combo of shakes and fries while Hobie pretends to gag. Nudging your foot under the table.

The sugar is the most satisfying thing you taste after such a long day. A tall glass of pink decorated in whipped cream and a cherry. Two, once Hobie plops his into your melting and quickly depleting shake.

It’s like you said, you don’t think about fitting into a mold or expectation. You just enjoy the happiness in his eyes and relax.

Someone plays the same song on the jukebox in the corner of the room for the second time. Chatter fills your ears and then voices you recognize. 

Turning your head you spot your friends. Freshly out of practice. You can already feel their curious gazes. Questions upon question coupled with disbelief cleverly hidden under the guise of concern. You won’t shy away if they walk up, you aren’t ashamed nor will you ever be of Hobie Brown.

“You should go say hi.” Hobie chuckles while nudging your foot again to grab your attention.

“Mm, I’m happy right here.” You answer as your eyes meet again before you burst into laughter.

“What?” Hobie’s eyes widened, caught like a deer in headlights.

“You’ve got-” You wheeze as you tap your lip. 

“Here?” He slowly grins. Purposefully missing when he wipes his thumb over his cheek.

“No,” you laugh harder.

“Here?”

“Oh my- hold still.”

Hobie leans forward happily on his elbows for you to clean the whipped cream on his lip.

“Thank you lovie.”

“Mhm.” 

You don’t move your hand away. Instead you cradle his cheek. Looking at him like he was the only thing worth paying attention to in the room.

You’re startled when he scoots back abruptly. Even more so when his voice cracks as he asks for the check. Then he’s taking your hand and running out of the diner. It’s all so fast it’s enough to give you whiplash.

“What-?”

“I couldn’t do this in there.” He cuts you off before crashing his lips onto yours.

‘There is more that meets the eye, I see the soul that is inside’ - Avril Lavigne (sk8tor boy)

-

taglist: @insideoutjulie

[karlachismylife]

Me: scrambling to finish homework before my linear algebra class

My brain: can you imagine fem!ghoap tho?

I can't, I'm my biggest fucking enemy. BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE FEM!GHOAP THO?

Fem!Soap has absolutely Harley Quinn vibes, batshit crazy with a sprinkle of pyromania and several decades of unmedicated ADHD. If Soap got his haircut inspiration from some local punk band in his hometown, fem!Soap was the leader of said band, adding to Mam's grey hair every time she returned with new tattoos. Was playing football, when a new kid tried outcasting her cuz she's a girl, went on to beat the shit out of him.

That story about a higher ranking officer Soap punched? Sleazy motherfucker was harassing other women on the base and was unfortunate enough to choose fem!Soap as a target.

Walks around in tank tops and sport bras, all muscle no boobs, probably has a couple fake teeth, always is the one fellow female soldiers turn to when they need to get rid of assholes in the pubs they go for drinks to. Absolutely relishes in being called a "fucking butch" and whatever else those pathetic men try to throw at her, quickly fizzling out when they realize her biceps is the size of their thighs. She worked hard to be better than them, no matter how much some of her family wanted her to be a bit more... traditional. Not her Maw, though, Maw always said if her little Jenny wanted to be a soldier, she could be a damn good one.

Regularly participates in armrestling matches (banned in several pubs where she got carried away and broke someone's wrist) and pays for the round whenever she wins.

All those girls (and some guys) hanging off her elbows, and everyone assumes she's going home with one (or several) of them every time.

And fem!Ghost? She might have a horrible reputation, people spreading disgusting rumors about her past and what's under that mask (doesn't bother her, truth is so much more gruesome). Keeps to herself, grim sense of humour doing nothing to make her seem more approachable. A looming shadow, the personification of horrors they tell about what war and captivity do to women - and that's for those who actually know she's a woman. Most people just assume she's a big fucking guy, loose hoodies helping pass, deep, hoarse voice - never came back as it was from the time with Roba, broken by her screams with an ugly scar on her throat on top - only adding to confusion.

Too much baggage to unpack, all those things done to her easier to cut off with the dirty blond hair she buzzes to avoid the fuss. Every chance of having a family robbed of her in horrific ways, loneliness feels safer. Easier. Everyone's better off without needing to bear all those tons of crap she hoards on her broad shoulders.

Sits apart from the main company on those outings, nursing her bourbon and freaking people out - if she gets hit on, she sends everyone off with a few words. Even Soap, the blasting (sometimes too bloody brightly) sunshine, seems to fail with illuminating that shadow, all her attempts to get closer shut down. Maybe not as harsh as the others, but Ghost thinks - everything she touches is destroyed in torturous ways.

Soap shouldn't suffer because of her.

Until one day the chair in front of her lone table gets dragged back with a disgusting screeching sound, a heavy thump signaling of a huge (drunk) body plopping down across. Ghost doesn't need to look up - she can detect Soap by the stupid mutt's loud breathing, for fuck's sake. How many did she have?

Too many, thinks Ghost when a tanned arm lands on the table, resting on the elbow in a ready to wrestle stand. Must've been some kind of bet, no one else brave enough to challange big Scottish butch - so bored Soap, naturally, comes to one person she probably deems a worthy opponent.

"Not gonna let me back out, are ya?" Ghost shakes her head with a chuckle and finishes her bourbon, putting the glass down lazily and forgetting to pull the mask back down.

Soap's arm hits the table so hard it nearly cracks the wood - mere seconds.

Disarmed by a crooked, scarred smirk her big blue eyes are so obviously glued to.

"What now? Buy me a drink?" Ghost tilts her head. There's a shocked crowd around them, someone collecting a hefty win.

"Buy ye two and ye owe me a rematch."

Stupid mutt with blue eyes. Ghost wonders if she'll whine like a puppy riding her burly thigh.

i have somewhat a part two here

[punkeropercyjackson]

Afrolatino Percy Jackson thoughts dump i wanna put on blue baja blast

His name would NOT be Perseus.It dosen't roll off the tongue in spanish at all so Sally would name him Perseo

His middle name would also be Isadore,which is both of greek origin and a name an african american mom would absolutely name her son

Lightskin Percy is one ugly ass motherfucker and book innacurate.He looks exactly like Poseidon so poc Percy can't be mixed(but he would multietchnic by default,as he is canonically).Poseidon is afrogreek,Sally is afro-dominicana and they're both darkskin with strong features

If you make Percy black but not punk you're being weird and ignorant.Punk Percy is canon and black people created punk culture-starting in New Yorker at the same time it did England!!!-so there's no reason your Percy shouldn't not only be punk but AFROpunk.Grunge/Skater boy Percy isn't canon anyway and was popularized by white people projection so it has no say in afrolatino Percy

He had crushes on Starfire/Teen Titans 2003 Koriand'r and 1997/Brandy's Cinderella and they shaped his taste in women.He's black4black and yes,this includes when it comes to men.Jason was giving black biracial natural blonde in the books and Percy never had crushes on Luke or any male gods and Beckendorf was basically his older brother so he didn't have a crush on him either.Not every queer man liked older men as a kid but especially not Percy,whomst canonically hates older men for being older men.Too many of you are so flipadipping stupid💔

'Black boys glow blue in the moonlight' from Moonlight is extremely Percy-coded and he cried so hard he almost threw up watching I Saw The Tv Glow for the first time

His personality,experiences,treatment and perception(in-universe)are very representative of black autistics,especially but not limited to amab ones

^Stating amab because Percy reads as an afrolatino with a complex relathionship to gender that's healed with rejection of white masculinity and embracing black femininity culminating in identifying as transfem and bigender(he/they/she/neos)

Thalia,Rachel and Silena were black-coded too,Thalia as AA and Silena as creole but Rachel as nigerian yoruba with inmigrant parents,and this is why in the latter two cases they connected so well and clashed with Thalia as an intracommunity conflict metaphor.Thalia is platonically the stud to Percy's femme(tomboy/girly girl black sisters),Perachel haters are whole ass weirdos and Charlena was black love

Nico wasn't quite black-coded but he works better as black than white.He's a lot like 'soft sunshine nerdy black boy who's also ultra powerful and a little shit' characters and his name is literally Nico di Angelo,a black ass name as much as Percy Jackson is.Plus we need more black goth kid rep and my jamaican friend said it's a trope that black girls only have white siblings so that only made me headcanon black Nico further.He had an afro and when he's 17(in my Toa fixit/replacement,Tales of Dead Seas),he switches to dreads with a bun in the back

Percy and Hazel are so girldad and adoptive lesbian daughter he found and bonded with during the movie's/game's quest-coded.As has been pointed out by other black Pjo fans,their relathionship reads as black solidarity amongst a group of mostly nonblacks and she's the third to his and Nico's trio,called the Dead Sea Siblings since 1.Nico is the son of Hades,Hazel is the daughter of Pluto and Percy is the son of the sea god and 2.They're mediterranean by virtue of their greek heritage and Nico's italian too.Their bond deserved to be expanded on instead of discarded and so did Hazel as her own character and she's a Tods mc and gets her own solo book titled 'Hazel-Blood'.Sally is Percy's queen and Hazel is Percy's princess

His favorite music genres are rap,metal,bedroom rock and lo-fi beats,the last one influenced by Hazel's obsession with them.He can play guitar and he grew up listening to dominican/latino songs thanks to Sally blasting them around La Residencia Jackson all the time.Teezo Touchdown is his go to for road music

The sea does not like to be restrained so she switches hairstyles throught the series.Baby dreads in Tlt,wicks in Ttc,twists in Tlo,an afro in Son as she didn't remember what styles she liked on herself at the time but muscle memory gives herself dreads in the climax,diy's sea material based beads for them in Moa and grows her hair out so much by the time she's 19 she switches to locs.She decided to give herself a little girl treat by doing her hair the mermaidcore color technique too to celebrate her egg cracking(yellow,aqua,pink and purple were her choices and as per the requirements,the black with a white streak base stays)

Blue flan helps keep her mentally semi-sane and aquarium nails rewired her brain.She also owns a pair of pastel blue shorts with 'are you nasty?' on the ass in rhinestones she got as a ref to the Janet Jackson song

Also her,Tyson,Nico,Hazel and Estelle do the obvious 'Jackson Five' jokes and Sally and Paul join in

He's a hood nigga and can't turn it off and he's been made to feel bad about those things but by the Tods finale(at age 22)he's completely embraced it with pride and mocks suburbinates openly rather than just in his heads out of insecurity.Percy's the kinda guygirl to use 'Babygirl' as a romantic nickname unironically and nonsexually and wear hightop converse and sit on the curb eating street food next to the trucks he bought them from and watch black video game streamers then reference their lines irl

He's a very chalant dreadhead and owns a collection of blue durags and bought Sally a blue bonnet from Aphrodite that gives her perfect hair each night(Mamí's boyyyyyyy)

She gave up skateboarding because of greasy white boy posers but returned to it as symbolism for healing her inner child and transitioning.She was a skater boy,now she's a punk girl with a pretty face.Her board is black with blue cat and oceanic designs and she goes on petty crime sprees,uses her powers for enviormentalism,harasses Poseidon for money for Nico's chronic pain meds and mobility aids and gives Hazel special treatment to heal her from adultification trauma,knows how to diy things that don't even exist,drinks blue ingridients only battery acid and is the go-to for learning about punk culture amongst punks kids in Manhattan and in CHB for Percy's actual punk tactics

They've been sexually harrassed by white girls often enough to find snowbunny jokes deeply unfunny and even get angry at them and tell the people to make them this is why black women won't date them(wether they tell them they're a black woman themself to prove the point or not depends)

Sally's love of and inate connection to the sea is her dominican upbringing she passed down onto Percy coming through

Percy in blue togas and gold accesories,ripped pants and long chunky skirts,his Camp Half-Blood shirt with his battle jacket on top,blue cybersweetie dresses,waist beads,demonias and doc martens,thrifted graphic tops themed after his special interests,blackish blue lipstick and waterpoof glitter eyeshadow and black eyeliner years >>>>>>>>>>>>

She was definitely a gamer kid,she owned tamagotchis and went to arcades as safe spots and on her 12th birthday,Sally gifted her a blue nintendo ds she saved up to buy her.It was her only console for the longest time and she played so many games on it that combined with how much it meant to her she got it for her,she keeps it to this day and is very protective of it.Also,she would go hunting for cartridges of games based on existenting media she already was into as they hit different for her and she picked to play a girl in Pokemon(Percy,you EGG).And Sonic The Hedgehog kid Percy is a no brainer too,seeing......everything about Sonic as a franchise and Sonic as a character,he looks like Percy's fursona lmfao and peachdeluxe has the most accurate and Percycore human!Sonic ever

Please imagine Nico and Percy squishing Hazel into a hug as they both cover her in kisses and she giggles,happy stimming and non-seriously telling them to stop and that they're embarrassing her as if they aren't laying on her bed together.Please also imagine Percy showing up to Nico and Hazel's Special ED school he was supposed to attend when he was 9 but overheard Sally planning it over the phone and melted down so bad over it she never brought it up again,with a big box of homecooked blue stuffed cookies and a bag of ensures,on the day of Hazel's first art showcase as she's the president and founder of the art club there in her dcom episode ahh plot that transpired a month beforehand and her dreadfully learning what dilf means that day too

His hair is so afrotextured it can't be silkpressed,caused by Poseidon's divine status as his dad

She would recreate the Bubbline rock t-shirt and sweater to share between her and her girlfriend and want them to be Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum to her Marceline Abadeer The Vampire Queen(Percy Jackson The Sea Queen?).Matching icons,cosplay skits,singing Monster from Obsidian to them on her guitar,sending Bubbline tiktoks to eachother,attending Adventure Time events official and fanrun and even reading fics together.Encourage her to post the ones she wrote in her egg yearning days and her stitched heart you sowed back together is yours forever

Insert obligatory Percy is a New Yorker so he has beef with Imagine Dragons joke here

He thought cat cafes were gonna be white af and gentrified but went to one for the first time inbetween Botl and Tlo and now she's absolutely in love with them and goes to the one closest to La Residence Jackson twice a week and them,Nico,Hazel and whoevere blue's dating(read:whoever you ship Percy with,including yourself)are the only reason it's still in bussiness tbh

Percy's piercings are a spider bite,an eyebrow piercing,forward helix on both ears and a tongue ring.All done at home by Sally

He has a thing for women with afrobubble hairstyles and men with design fades

He rides for Leo almost as hard as Jason and Piper do and thinks he's based asf.Leo was intimidated by Percy's coolness at first,scared of looking like a loser in front of him,but Percy was so nice to him and openly as silly as him he let his guard down and now they're besties 4 life.Percy likes carrying Leo around and Leo clings to him and started his habit by randomly instigating it for no reason and Percy enjoyed doing it so it sticks.They compare their spanish dialects for fun and Leo gets Percy into game moding stuff while Percy gets Leo into surfing and Leo grows a close friendship to Nico and Hazel caused by Percy and even to Rachel,especially in Tods.They're painter/crafter solidarity and meet in the middle with arts and crafts and Leo is the red takis to Percy's blue takis

She copycats McDonalds recipes to make them but more delicious and also blue(when the boycott comes,she starts doing property damage on McDonalds buildings and Nico and Hazel vandalize them)

They definitely have a sweater that says 'The only blue life that matters' over a toony shark Thalia gave them

She's Spiderpunk in the universe he's a Spiderperson.Hobie Brown is so,SO book!Percy Jackson-coded and i'll give receipts!!

Bonus because my little brother(lesbian)said so and she has dreadlocks:This be Percy

[shot-of-truth]

Sex Drive*

summary: basically just a threesome with luke and mgk that has been sitting in my drafts for about two years.. yes I'm horrible.

warnings: everything filthy; breeding, degradation, slapping, choking, double penetration, squirting.. the lot, you know?

word count: 8k of pure filth

Luke knew Colson long before they signed with Interscope records but he can not recall ever talking to him. What he knew though was that this man never failed to put on an amazing show and even better parties, according to their mutual friend Ashley. He heard about many of his positive traits and he tried to remember them while the lanky dude with about a hundred tattoos downed his fourth shot of tequila for that night. His best friend was a big fan of his music, that much he recalled, always blasting his newest album Hotel Diablo in the car and singing along loudly. Luke even overheard her talking about Colson releasing a vibrator as part of his Valentines Day merch, he wasn’t sure if she ever bought it… which wouldn’t surprise him though. The lead singer eyes the tall rapper talking to a few girls on the other side of the room and questions himself whether or not he should start a conversation with him, for the sake of Fleur. Luke’s christmas party is in less than a week and he just knows that Fleur would be the happiest girl on earth if he invited him. So that’s what he does, after his drink is finished he makes his way over to the man that is about as tall as he is and introduces himself.

He mentally thanks himself for deciding to come to Interscope’s Christmas party as both of them lose themselves in a chat about music and their shared love for pop punk, especially Blink-182.

That was the story of how Luke’s friendship with Colson, in the industry known as Machine Gun Kelly, started. You could leave it at that if it wasn’t for Luke’s infamous christmas party that he threw at his house every year, which Colson was invited to… of course. And that was where he met Fleur.

With her brown skin and braided hair she made her way through the hallway, carrying a few bottles of liquor that she seemed to have brought from her car. “Let me help you!” Luke spoke quickly, taking two bottles of rosé from her before kissing her cheek and telling her to make herself comfortable, which shouldn’t be too hard since she basically already lives at his place.

Colson watches the scene unfold in front of his eyes, leaning against the wall and picking his beer up for a sip. The girl that just walked in is drop dead gorgeous, in his eyes at least. He loves the way her dress hugs her curves and he absolutely fucking adores when she throws her head back to laugh at something Luke said. He picks up that she’s not wearing a bra, her nipples visible through the fabric… he swears he didn’t mean to stare, he just randomly notices. He’s a lot taller than her and it makes his cock swell just a little bit as he imagines all the dirty things he could do to her. Keeping his composure though, he walks over to his girl of the night, setting the beer down on the table and greeting her with a simple “hi!” If he didn’t look close enough he wouldn’t even have seen the excitement on her face as she looks up into his eyes. “Oh look who Luke invited..” She smirks, bringing the sparkling wine to her lips, her red lipstick leaving a stain on the glass. 

“Actually… now I’m really glad I came.” He shoots back, taking her hand and shaking it. “Colson.” He speaks, not letting her hand go until she tells him “Fleur”. After hearing her name he can’t help but think that she really does smell like a flower, like daisies actually… a soft smell, like a warm Spring day. 

It does get better though, half an hour later when both of them are lost in the crowd together, her body pressed against his, he can make out her coconut body wash under the thin layer of sweat on her neck. His hands are on her waist and he guides her to the beat, fingers digging into the flesh beneath her shirt. He feels her ass press against his crotch and he just knows that she is doing it on purpose. He leans his head down to plant a quick kiss to her neck, a satisfying sigh leaving her mouth. “We got two options, Colson. You either follow me now or I’ll find a room and a way to get myself off like I do with my vibrator.” Straight forward, no bullshit. Her hands brush against his crotch and she throws him a kiss before disappearing, leaving Colson a horny and drunken mess in the middle of the living room. Without thinking twice he finishes his drink and follows her until she opens a door at the end of the hallway and waits for him to step inside. When he does, she’s lying down on the bed, a seductive smile on her lips, just waiting for him to come over and fuck her brains out. Colson has other plans as he quietly closes the door and exhales, leaning against it and licking his lips. He watches her every move with hungry eyes, images of him filling her mouth with his cock prominent on his mind. But he’s got time tonight… more than enough. He is going to make her beg. Still leaning against the door, he moves his fingers, motioning for her to come over. His arms crossed on his chest, his gaze is fixated on her walking over to him. 

The size difference makes her heart race and she looks up into Colson’s magnificent eyes, a wave of heat taking over her body when he presses his lips to hers, testing the limits. He tastes like beer and her taste reminds him of the disgustingly sweet watermelon vodka. Fleur is standing on her tippy toes and she’s grabbing onto his shirt, Colson’s teeth lightly biting down onto her bottom lip, waiting for her to open up. Tongue licking into her mouth, he huffs quietly, squeezing her butt while he’s at it. While the two of them are making out against the wall, hands all over each other, Colson pushes his left leg forward. The fabric of his jeans meets her panties and if it wasn’t so dark he would have been able to see her mouth opening and forming an o-shape. Fleur hopes he can’t feel the damp spot on her panties against his leg, hopes she doesn’t make a mess on his ripped jeans. But when her lover for the night stares at her, breathing heavily for a few seconds before mumbling a low “fuck” and connecting their lips for a needy kiss again, all her worries are gone. Large hands still on her ass, he pulls her forward with such force she collides with his hard chest, her barely covered pussy sliding against his leg. 

He then gets a loud moan out of her, dick straining against his briefs. “Wanna be a good girl for me and get yourself off on my thigh? Wanna beg for it, slut?” Colson’s voice is needy, sexy and raw but his eyes show curiosity, as if he wants to ask her: is this okay? Do you really want to do this? Her knees almost give in when Colson calls her a slut, the humiliation having a strangely unexpected effect on her, panties now drenched in arousal. And Colson feels it, god does he love it. “Please… wanna use your thigh..” This is so fucking filthy and taboo, begging for her favorite singer to let her grind against his tattooed leg. Just when Fleur thought it could not get any better, he bites her earlobe and whispers: “want you to call me daddy if we’re gonna do it properly… know it gets you off, so… try again.” From what she can make his look out it looks challenging, he wants to see her crack, wants nothing more than for her to fall right into euphoria because of him. All of this already feels too good to be true but when she moans “daddy please… need your thigh” he breaks and pushes his leg up, right against her clit while holding her in place with his strong arms. Her moans are music to his ears while both of them start grinding against each other, rolling away from the door and onto the wall, him slowly feeling a wet patch forming on his blue jeans. 

Both of them are so caught up in one another, bodies tangled together, sounds of pleasure falling from their lips, they don’t even notice the door opening and a perplexed Luke standing in the hallway. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks helpless, red stained shirt that used to be white clinging to his body. “Fuck I’m… shit..” he stammers, catching Colson’s attention. Luke’s heart feels like it’s going a million miles an hour when he locks eyes with his best friend being held up by one of his co-workers… if you can call him that. He hates that he gets hard just from looking at her messy hair and smudged make-up. But what he hates the most is that the size difference between the two of them makes him break into a sweat, imagining if she’d also look this small on his lap. Right now Luke is really fucking thankful for the lack of lighting in his room because he’s certain they would have both seen his bulge. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, trying not to look at her exposed lace thong that is now visible since her dress has ridden up. “I just… new shirt..” His voice comes out dry and he mentally facepalms himself for not being able to bring out a normal sentence as he points at the wine-stain on his shirt. “Come in… close the door.” Colson orders, surprising both him and Fleur. A new thought formed in his head just a few seconds ago, something even more filthy than making her beg for his cock. He wants to see her beg for two cocks, he wants her to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the end of the night. Kells has never been one to share his girls but right now he just could not give a single fuck, unable to form a coherent thought. The younger one hurries to close the door and make his way over to his closet, pulling out a random shirt. He’s unaware of the four eyes watching him as he takes off his dirty shirt, Fleur having climbed down from Colson’s lap and sneaking over to her best friend. His skin is kind of sweaty and hot but she doesn’t mind when reaching her hand out to trace her nails down his back, examining his broad shoulders. The girl immediately picked up where this was going when Colson pressed his hard on against her tummy the moment Luke had closed the door. He wanted this and she wanted Luke, young, innocent Luke, as well as the rapper with his dominant attitude.

The two of them could not be more different if they tried, Colson’s skin splattered with ink while Luke’s remained pure and creamy white. Their personalities are completely different but the thought of Luke having a kinky side to him that she doesn’t know about makes her stomach twirl and do backflips. Colson does not have Luke’s broad shoulders but he’s just as tall as the 22 year old, the two of them easily towering over Fleur. 

All of them notice the dim light in the corner of the room that Luke turned on when looking for his shirt. It illustrates his skin when Fleur touches him, goosebumps rising on his arms. “Stay.” She whispers, fingertips on his bare back, caressing him. His eyes are closed while he rubs them, certain he’s had one too many this night because this can’t be happening. It’s simply not possible that Fleur is hugging him from behind now, arms wrapped around his torso. Before he can process what’s happening, she has him turned around, curls dangling in his face. He nervously looks over to Colson and sees him taking his shirt off, the tattoos looking like a second skin. What he also notices is that the other guy in the room does not have an ounce of body fat, he’s like a fucking spaghetti noodle. And it makes Luke feel a little bit insecure, being exposed to both of them. It’s all gone from his mind when she kisses his collarbone while standing on her tippy toes, she can’t get higher than this. Her lips are so soft and it makes Luke’s knees buckle just the slightest bit, especially when she kisses down towards his nipples, flicking her tongue over the right one. Her wet muscle dances over his skin, down to his belly button and she can taste the red wine on his skin, which someone had splashed over his shirt just a few minutes ago. 

At this point she is kneeling on the floor in front of him, knees digging into the soft carpet, marvelous eyes digging into his as she gazes up at him through her eyelids. Luke could swear he forgets how to breathe that very moment because now he can definitely sense where this is going and he clearly fucking likes it. “You little whore… got Luke all hard and now you’re being a fucking tease? I don’t think that’s nice at all.” Colson’s voice catches both of them off guard, he is a lot closer than he was just a minute ago, standing behind Fleur. She just licks her lips and tries not to let Luke see how turned on she is from being treated with little to no respect from the older man… so pathetic. Suddenly he grabs her hair with just a bit of force and pulls it, making him look up to her. “Fucking answer me when I talk to you, toy.” His voice is dripping with lust and he sounds dangerous, his gaze though is examining her body language to make sure she’s alright. “Yes daddy.. I- I’ll make it up… to him.” Luke is fucking shocked when he sees her smiling after mouthing the word ‘daddy’ with a bittersweet voice, his jaw falling open, cock thickening even more. He needs attention and he needs it there. Even though he is not so sure if he’d be able to contain himself now that he has his gorgeous best friend on her knees for him and his friend calling her a slut. He keeps quiet. Before Fleur can process it, Colson is bending down and grabbing her jaw, making her whine. “You better.” Colson says calmly and then he slaps her cheek, not too hard but enough to make the slap echo through Luke’s bedroom. “Mouth open” he then instructs, Fleur obeying him. Before any of them can comprehend what he‘s trying to do, he has collected some saliva and he‘s spitting it right into Fleur‘s awaiting mouth. 

It‘s only when Luke whines quietly, being so fucking turned on it hurts, that both of his friends are reminded of his presence. Colson wants to speak for him, wants to tell the gorgeous woman with the braids in her hair to take Luke‘s cock into her mouth already when Luke speaks, his voice laced with neediness. “Will you take my cock into your mouth, babygirl? Be a good girl for us?” He swears he doesn’t think straight when his thumb reaches out and caresses the sore skin on her cheek that Colson slapped a minute prior. Fleur presses her thighs together to get some sort of friction because now she’s basically dripping down her legs. There’s something about Colson being rough with her, demanding and dominant, but Luke praising her and calling her babygirl and good girl. Maybe that’s just what she needs, someone pushing her limits and someone else reassuring her. Her best friend opens his fly, pushing his jeans down just a bit, she waits impatiently. He’s wearing briefs and Fleur can see the outline of his dick, painfully hard. “Give it a kiss, lovie.” Luke mumbles, playing with her hair. So that’s what she does, she kisses him through his boxers, her tongue wetting the fabric, licking over his head where she swears she can taste just a little bit of pre-cum. Fleur’s hands slowly pull Luke’s briefs down, cock springing free. He’s hard and heavy and he hisses when it hits the rather cold air. 

“Get naked.” Colson orders from the bed, palming himself through his pants, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. The woman wants to reach for the hem of her dress when Luke already pulls it off of her, careful as to not rip it. She pulls her drenched thong off of her legs and before she can stop herself, she throws it over on the bed, next to Colson’s head, a cheeky smile on her face. He grabs it immediately, an animalistic growl leaving his lips. “God you fucking whore… dripping for both our cocks?” He doesn’t expect an answer when he lies down on the bed, sniffing her panties. Fleur instead looks up to Luke, his skin red. His dick is about an inch away from her face, average in size but rather thick. The veins running up his shaft are downright sinful, not to mention his pretty pink head. She wraps her hand around it, her tongue licking over his balls, a quiet moan coming from Luke. She never thought she’d be in this position, on her knees for her best friend. Luke on the other hand fantasized about this many times before, preferably in the middle of the night, with his slicked up cock fucking in and out of his fist. 

She collects his pre-cum and lubes up his dick with it, slowly jerking him off while putting his balls in her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. Luke thinks she looks content, batting her eyelashes at him. So he moans, a devilish combination with her slurping sounds and her fingers moving around his wet cock. It’s so fucking hot, not just metaphorically. To Fleur it feels like the temperature has risen to around 100° Fahrenheit since Luke has entered the room, her hair slightly sweaty as the curly haired man carefully gathers it in his hands so it wouldn’t fall in her face and get in her way. She listens closely and hears Colson moaning quietly while she kisses the head of Luke’s cock. Trying not to think about her glistening pussy being on full display to Colson, she licks Luke’s pretty dick up and down, his body reacting immediately. He fists her hair tighter when she finally takes him in, her warm, wet mouth engulfing him… and Luke has a hard time not cumming on the spot, thinking about what her pussy would feel like if her mouth is already heaven on earth. A pornographic moan leaves his mouth and Kells can’t help but smile, excited for what this night has in store for him and the others. The gagging sounds coming from the beautiful girl kneeling on the floor, combined with her spitting on Luke’s cock every now and then make the rapper throb. She has him so fucking deep in her throat, Luke just has to pull her away after a few minutes and kiss her forehead, out of breath. Tears are streaming down her face while she sniffles and gives him the cutest smile someone could give after taking a dick down their throat. His stomach almost does back-flips from her simple gesture, his thumb wiping her tears away and a whisper leaving his mouth: “So good to me, baby… took me so well, I loved it.” He holds on for a second, thumb swiping over her bottom lip, her warm mouth allowing him in. “Think she deserves a reward, am I right Kells?”

His shy smile turns into a confident smirk as he watches Colson get up from his previous position and walk over to the two of them. Before Fleur can even register what is happening, he is kneeling down behind them, licking a stripe up her soaking pussy, all the way from her clit to her entrance, her legs almost giving up and making her drop to the ground but Luke catches her, holds her hair and presses his lips to hers. Fleur’s eyes are shut in pleasure, little mewls escaping her slightly opened mouth, going over right into Luke. Colson is gripping her hips so tight that she’s sure she will find his handprints on them later in the night when she’s all by herself again, eyeing herself in the massive bathroom mirror. His tongue softly presses against her clit, face buried between her legs as he gets a taste of her. Luke can see that his friend is hard behind her, boxers pulled down to his ankles. 

Colson’s fingers find her entrance after eating her out for a good five minutes and he slowly inserts one finger, examining her reaction as she throws her head back, mouth opening. He’s sitting down behind her, one hand slowly pleasuring her, other one pulling her back by her hair so she’s settling down on his lap. The younger man has a smirk on his lips as he sits down in front of his best friend and loosely wraps his hand around her throat, making her teary eyes look up at him. He kisses her softly before licking his thumb and slowly bringing it to her clit, earning a soft sigh from her. The combination from both Colson and Luke pleasuring her is too much for Fleur, nails digging into Luke’s shoulder, trying to hold on to something as her body shakes. “What a dirty fucking whore.” Colson mumbles in her ear, right as he lets go of her hair and slaps her rosy cheek. Once, twice.

In her hazy mind, she notices Colson’s fingers disappearing and Luke’s slowly rubbing over her clit, slowly sending her over the edge and making her let out a pornographic moan, legs shaking. It feels like heaven to her. “Yeah, let go baby… sound so pretty when you cum for us… such a good girl.” In her overstimulated mind she notices lips on her neck, kissing and nibbling on that sweet spot that leaves her legs shaking as she’s coming down from her high. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke sees Kells still stroking himself behind her, hand on her hip. “Mind if I have a taste?” He asks the older one, as if Fleur isn’t even present, as if she has no say in this… and it turns her on so much. “All yours, man,” Kells smirks and steps back a little, leaving enough room for the singer to get behind his best friend and trace his finger over her soft thighs. A shiver runs down her spine and she jerks away from him at first, the sensitivity of her first orgasm still washing over her. “Aw baby, know you’re so sensitive… but I’m dying to taste you, need to have you right now.” With that, Luke picks her up and gently throws her on the bed that Colson is already sitting on. He’s fully naked now and for a quick moment Luke checks out all his tattoos that seem like a second layer of skin. “Lu, please…” His best friend is slowly grinding against nothing, her pussy so fucking wet in front of him, she’s almost dripping onto his bedsheets. 

The sound of her breathy moans and pleas has his dick impossibly harder between his legs, throbbing for her… but she has to wait, cause Luke reaaally loves hearing her beg, he decides. “Please what?” He mocks her, slowly settling between her thighs, rubbing the inside of it. “N-need you.” A slap echoes through the room, before Colson speaks. “Speak up bitch, how is Luke supposed to know what you n-n-need when you can’t even form a proper sentence, huh?” His big hand rubs the slightly sore skin on her cheek and she swears she has never been more turned on in her entire life, Luke still kissing right next to where she needs him the most, teasing the shit out of her. “So fucking pathetic, you didn’t even get our cocks yet and you’re still fucking dripping for us…so cock drunk you can’t even speak properly.” Luke settles down on the bed finally, placing her legs over his shoulders before kissing the inside of her thigh again. His blue eyes look up at Fleur, tears of frustration in her eyes and it has him concerned for a teeny tiny bit until she reaches her breaking point and blurts out: “Lick me Lu, pleaaaase.” He dives in immediately, like a starved man eating his first meal in a long time, devours her pussy. His hands hold her legs open and his tongue laps up all her juices, while she’s fisting the duvet behind her, arching her back in the most sinful way. Everything feels so fucking good right now and when she looks for just a second she sees Luke grinding against his sheets while he sucks on her little bundle of nerves. On top of that, he fucking moans against her, the vibrations making her let out a loud scream.

She’s close already, can feel her second orgasm of the night creeping up somewhere deep inside of her. Absentmindedly, her hands tangle in Luke’s hair and give it a hard thug and she expected everything but the fucking whimper that came out of his mouth, telling her, without any words, to do it again and again and again… so she does, fisting his hair and rocking her hips against him while he sucks on her clit, so hard it has stars dancing in front of her eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He licks her through her orgasm, moaning loudly as well. He doesn’t stop until she’s whining, crying and shaking for him to stop. Kells is still sitting behind them, hand in Fleurs hair while he strokes himself lazily. 

She’s coming down slowly, breathing heavily and looking for the two men in the room with her. “How do you want us?” Kells asks, suddenly next to her. Fleur is dizzy, needy and aching to finally be filled. Trying to articulate a sentence, to let both of them know that they could do whatever the fuck they want to her as long as their hands don’t leave her sweaty hot skin, she fails miserably. The only thought prominent on her mind right now being her idol and her best friends using her body in downright filthy ways, at the same time, in whichever way they choose. Soft lips close in on her nipple, the sudden cold wetness a contrast to her hot skin. With her eyes slowly opening, Fleur notices Luke to her right, his fingers stroking his rock hard cock while Kells on her left side is desperately trying to draw her attention back to him by digging his hands into her side, grabbing her hard as he sucks on her most sensitive spot. 

“Poor baby, look fucked she is Luke.. maybe we should just leave. Think we’ve been super generous today, haven’t we? Two orgasms should be plenty.” His tone suggests that Colson does not plan on being anywhere near done with his new prized possession, Fleur however, in her fucked out state, does not seem too okay with the possibility of not getting what she was singing up for all along. “Nooo, please sir.” Her voice comes out raspy, an aftermath of swallowing down Luke’s dick not too long ago. A quiet “need more” follows right after, hands reaching out to Kells and Luke on either side of her. The two singers immediately make eye contact as a soft chuckle forms on the younger one's lips. “Aren’t you a little selfish, baby?” His usually honeysweet voice seems to be dripping with evil intentions. “You only take, take, take… look at Kells. Have you touched him at all tonight, huh? Bet he’s been dying to stuff you with his cock all night and you have just given him zero attention.” Knowing looks are being exchanged between the two males, as if they have done this sort of thing a million times before. “Honestly Luke, why am I even asking? Pretty sure Fleur is gonna be a good little slut for us and take us however we want her.” 

It’s dark in the room, however the rapper does not miss the shiver that runs through Fleur’s body at his words. He waits for a signal, anything to let him know he was wrong about his assumption and nothing follows except the quietest moan… he’s done for. Crashing his lips onto hers like it’s the last thing he would ever fucking do in his life, Colson takes control again, pressing Fleurs tiny body deeper into the mattress. The little whispers between the two men go unnoticed by her, so does Luke grabbing certain objects from his nightstand. “Look at me.” She watches Kells rip open a condom with his teeth before taking a first closer look at his massive dick resting between her thighs, the last bit of dominance that was still within her slowly withering away. What the fuck did she get herself into here? “I can’t wait to fuck that tight little pussy, ruin it for everyone but us.” “Next time you even think about going over to Matt’s house, I bet you’ll only be thinking about this. Will just get disappointed by everyone but us, will forever think about this-” Luke drags the last word out with his hands around her throat. Him bringing up the hookup with one of their mutual friends stings and she is about to say something before catching herself again. She is at their mercy and scolding her best friend right now when he has been nothing but an angel to her all night does not seem fair to her, not even in the headspace she is in right now. 

Not with the stickiness of her two previous orgasms and her momenteral arousal slicking up her thighs and sore entrance. Contracting her pussy around the cool air in Luke’s room, she would not dare disobey any of them right now, just needing to be filled. Having waited so long for the past hour, she closes her eyes in anticipation, goosebumps decorating her brown skin. “Babydoll, look at daddy when he stuffs you with his cock,” Luke whispers, hand slowly stroking his dick and watching the scenario in front of him play out. His other hand holds Fleurs head up, wrapped around her throat so the woman can easily watch as the second man in the room pushes forward, engulfing himself in her wet heat. 

The moan that leaves her lips is straight-up pornographic- loud, needy and echoing around the room. So erotic that Kells loses himself in it, the sound going straight to his aching dick that is being gripped by Fleurs tight cunt like a viper grabs her victim. Ready to devour him and so deliciously full of him, none of them notice they are holding their breath until he breathes out “Holy shit, god. You feel so fucking tight.” Gushing around him it’s like he can feel her heartbeat even through the condom as he gives his first thrust deep into her. “That’s it, baby. Taking him so well,” Luke whispers into her ear, simultaneously wiping the tears that run down her cheek away. Fleur feels so positively full with Kells’ head bumping directly into her cervix and giving her that sweet sting she knew she’d feel as soon as she laid eyes on him. She can’t control the tears of pleasure that stream from her eyes as he sets a brutal pace while Luke holds her fragile body in place. It feels as if there are hands all over her body, touching her, feeling her, pleasuring her. 

She’s floating somewhere up there, she’s sure of it as Colson suddenly stills all the way inside of her to catch his breath, dick throbbing. Her legs wrapped around his waist shake, pulling him in closer. She doesn’t mean to, never ever, but with everything going on right in front of her she doesn’t realize Luke leaves his spot. Doesn’t realize he hands Colson the bottle of lube, who slowly pulls out of her. “Ride me, angel.” Luke demands from next to her, laying down on his mattress. “Yes sir.” Fleur replies, just needing that feeling of being full again. Her entire body aches from the previous orgasms, her thighs burning as she swings her leg over Luke’s muscular thighs, straddling him quickly. “Keep calling me sir and we might just fill up that pretty little pussy, darling.” An involuntary moan slips past her lips at the thought, her wet lips slowly sliding over Luke’s erection that pressed up against his stomach. He hisses and throws his head back the same moment Kells gathers Fleurs hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulls on it- enough to make it sting and inevitably enough to get her attention. “You better stop teasing right fucking now and sit on his dick, do you understand me?” 

Luke’s hands dig into her hips, making sure to leave marks that will be visible to anyone that tries to touch their little brat for the next few days. The thought makes his heart race, both in anticipation and anxiety… remains of him, her best fucking friend, and Colson being on her body as another guy enjoys her the way they are doing right now. All his senses are on high alert, skin feeling on fire as Fleur positions him against her entrance and slowly sinks down on his cock, juices coating him and pooling around his base. In his fucked out state he just now realizes he never thought of grabbing a condom and he wants to say something, it’s a thought slowly making its way from the back of his mind to the front, threatening to spill past his lips until- 

“Fuck Luke…” It’s not the pet name she’s been using all night, it’s not for Kells’ enjoyment, it’s only meant for him as his dick pulses inside of her wet, warm cunt. His best friend gasps, hands tangling in the singers damp curls and it feels like heaven to him, so snug around him he can feel her fucking heartbeat against his dick. “M-Move, flower.” Colsons lips capture hers as she slowly starts moving, making sure to go all the way up until he almost slips out, teasing him, before sliding back down on his thick erection. All those years of them being friends and she just now asks herself why the hell they haven’t done this sooner? When he looks so ethereal below her. The curls, the full, plump lips of his, everything about him screaming angelic. Whereas the man next to her with his fully tattooed body and mean demeanor gets her off just the same, his hand now grabbing her neck as he settles in behind her. The pace she settles for is slow, almost torture for the blonde on the bottom who just feels like he needs more. More of her wetness coating his dick, more of the moans she tries to stifle everytime he’s deep inside her. The good friend act, the fucking soft act he’s kept up all evening is wearing thin but what finally pushes him over the edge is when she chuckles, almost fucking laughs at him shuddering when she lets his dick almost slip out and the cool air hits his sensitive tip. 

Her face is buried in his neck, not being able to read his facial expression. Colson however grins to himself, visibly noticing Luke’s whole demeanor change. In one swift motion, Luke pulls Fleur down until she’s flush against him, his dick pressing hard against her cervix. A loud moan echoes through the room, thighs trembling against him. She tries to move away from him, her best friend being too fucking deep inside of her but both Luke and Colson are keeping her in place. “I’ve fucking had it with you. If you wanna act like a brat I will fuck you like one.” “You’re too nice for that.” And she almost instantly regrets it the moment the six words leave her mouth. Based on the expression on Luke’s face she knew he wasn’t playing from the beginning but now she’s really in for it and she’s almost positive Colson and Luke will both ensure she afeels pleasure like she’s never felt it before. 

“See, babygirl. We were gonna be nice, you know…” Luke’s voice is dangerously calm and it has her on edge. She opens her mouth to say something but just the shake of his head makes her decide against it. And suddenly she hates how obedient she is in his lap, dick still filling her to the brim. He sits up, face now inches away from hers and she can make out his darkened eyes. You could hear a pin drop in the room right now, the atmosphere tense. One sound, a cap being popped open behind her makes her aware of the other person in the room being much closer than she thought he was, wanting to turn around but Luke captures her face with his right hand. “Eyes on me.” A whine builds up in her throat, her hips slowly grinding against him because it’s painful how wet and desperate she is at this point. She wishes Luke would just fuck her, do something, anything and she wishes Colson would let her suck his dick while Luke pounds into her. “We were gonna be nice and take you one at a time. Didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed… but baby, tell me. What’s the point of having two dicks in the same room as you if you don’t have both of them inside of you at the same time?”

It’s like her heart skips a beat as her mind drifts to places she’s never explored before. She wants to tell him no, that’s too much. She could barely handle Colson abusing her little pussy, how was she supposed to take both of them at the same time? But Fleur looks at Luke and behind his hard expression his eyes soften a little. He’s her best friend who has known her for years. Why would he do anything to her he knew she couldn’t handle? Luke’s got some dark thoughts that he plans on executing within the next hour but he’s not a monster, far from it actually. Meanwhile Colson settles in behind her, softly kissing her neck all the way from her ear down to her shoulders as his hot breath fans over her skin. His tattooed arm wraps around her and grabs her left boob, teeth slightly sinking into her collarbone. If it wasn’t for this short distraction she surely would have noticed his head nudging her hole, about to press in, right next to Luke’s dick already inside of her. He hisses next to her ear, a guttural groan following immediately after once he pushes in, her pussy impossibly tighter this time. “O-oh my ffuuu-“ It dies in her throat, not that she could have said more anyways as Luke pulls his best friend down, kissing her passionately and pulling her flush against his chest so it’s easier for Colson to reach deeper.

He’s nestled right in there, stilling for a second before Luke pushes up, hands holding Fleur in place by her ass so he can move alongside his new, tall friend. “Holy fucking shit, that feels good,” Kells breathes out quietly. “Isn’t that little pussy squeezing us so tight, Luke?” He sounds completely fucked, his head pressing right against that spot that has their girl of the night seeing stars. She can’t think straight, pain and pleasure overtaking every other sensation she could be feeling that very moment. But Luke is holding her so tight and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, kissing her head and pushing her hair to the side so it would not interfere with her breathing. “Best one I ever had, Kells. Such a good little whore for us, aren’t you baby?” It’s more like a rhetorical question since he knows his best friend is too far gone to answer with anything but a lewd moan anyways. One hand presses down on her stomach, almost making her cum right then and there. They establish a diabolic rhythm, one of them pulling back while the other drives themselves deeper and deeper into her dripping cunt over and over again. It’s excruciating and Fleur feels like she’s on fire, her orgasm building and building as she’s being fucked at a slow pace but with determination from both of them. It’s like their hands are all over her and she probably couldn’t tell which ones belong to who, just that someone feels her shake and sob against the younger ones chest and decides to rub the swollen bud between her legs, dripping wet. Right where she wanted it the most this entire time. “Gonna cum on our cocks, huh? Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to actually be properly fucked?” It’s like Luke can’t control what he says, his best friends pussy and Colson rubbing against him making it way harder not to cum on the spot. But he needs to hold on, desperately needs to see the look on her face when she cums first. “Y-yes sir.. yes daddy.. please please l-let me.” Fleur whimpers, so fucking close and just waiting for their permission to tip right over the edge. A harsh smack being delivered to her left asscheek by Colson is exactly what does it in combination with their dicks hitting her cervix once again, his thumb still rubbing circles over her and Luke stilling inside of her, digging her nails into her waist. 

Her pussy pulsing and squeezing him is almost enough for him to shoot his load into her, and a lot of it. Calming himself down, he breathes in and out heavily, trying so hard not to think about the way her eyes squeeze shut and- wetness coating his thighs? A dark chuckle follows from behind, followed by Colson pulling out of her slowly, his dick still rock hard. “Did you just fucking squirt on us baby? Made a proper mess on Luke’s damn bed, didn’t you?” Luke lifts her up gently, sliding out of her- much to her dismay which she lets him know with a quiet whine, suddenly feeling so empty. “I’m sorry bro, but I need to taste her.. am dying to stuff my face in that cunt and taste how fucking sweet she is.” Colson lets them know, more directed at Luke than Fleur. “No, I c-can’t… sens-sensitive.” She tries to argue but to no avail, Colson’s mind is made up. “Shhh princess, Kells just wants a little taste.” He turns her around on him, her backside now against his chest while the rapper kneels down between both their legs. The moment his tongue comes in contact with her clit she’s thrashing around on top of him, trying to get away from the tall man who has his face buried in her pussy, lapping up her juices. Luke holds her in place, kisses her head and inhales the scent of her freshly washed hair while watching the scenario in front of him unfold. While he is glad for this little distraction to recover for a minute or two, his dick is still painfully hard and throbbing, Fleurs ass moving against it not making it much better. 

Stars dance in front of her eyes as the woman tries to control her breathing, too overwhelmed with Colson sucking and moaning against her. “If you don’t stop fucking moving, Luke and I will coax another five orgasms out of you, I don’t give a damn if that means we’ll be here all fucking night.” His tone is mean, demanding and almost threatening. “If I wanna taste our pussy, you will let me.” With that he is back to devouring her, nails digging into her soft thighs and leaving marks behind. What scares her the most is not another orgasm, it’s the fact that the orgasm is being delivered by no one other than her favorite singer who already made her explode on his dick before. And if she does that again in his face, she might as well just dig her own grave. Little does Fleur know that is just what he has been trying to achieve all along, fingers slipping inside of her and expertly finding her sweet spot. Her soft cries of overstimulation mix with the wet slurping sounds of his mouth, sucking and licking all over her. “Can feel you squeezing my finger, you wanna make a mess all over daddy again?” He speaks, breath fanning over her oh so sensitive clit. “N-no Ke-Kells, I-” Instantly a quick slap is being delivered to her thigh, the sting traveling up to her already sensitive pussy. “That’s not my name. Try again.” And she is so close, the muscles in her lower abdomen contracting as she grinds against Kells’ face, just wanting that one final push that he delivers with his mouth closing around her most sensitive area and his ring- and middle finger curling inside her. “Daddy!” It hits Fleur like a train, ears ringing, muscles spasming and liquid gushing out of her once again. Over the bed, over his fingers, over Luke, over Kells’ face. Helping her ride out her orgasm, the older man of the two kisses her thighs softly, rubbing the rest of her arousal all over pussy

“I know you’re so sensitive right now baby, I get it. But I think Kells and I really really wanna fill you up. Gonna let us use that pretty cunt one last time? Been dying to cum in you.” Hazy eyes stare up at him and even though it feels hard for her to move, four orgasms really taking a toll on the poor girl, she nods. That’s what she has been fantasizing about all night, since Luke walked into the room to discard his wine stained shirt, leaving all his girls and the few girls lusting over him out in his living room. “Need to hear you say it, lovie.” He’s gentle this time. His tip, covered in precum, nudging against her opening and just waiting for her verbal confirmation. “Need you Lu… need you Kells.” It’s barely a whisper but Luke lets it slide, coating himself in her arousal once more before pushing in from below her, Fleurs back still against his chest.

Kells wraps his hand around her neck, gently now, making her watch his long, hard dick sliding into her for the last time that night. He comes to think that she looks so tiny like this, sandwiched between the two skinny 6’3 tall men, the thought alone bringing him close to filling her up like he’s been wanting to for hours. It does not help that he can see their outlines, a slight bulge in her lower belly from the two cocks stretching her out. He thinks he’s done for, losing the rhythm he settled in with Luke, breathing quickening. “Gonna fuck that cum so deep into you.” He growls, tightening his hold on her neck. Fleur tries to reply, tries to focus on the pleasure of him still being inside of her but nothing is working anymore. Everything hurts in a good way and she knows that there is no way she’s going back out to that party later. She knows that this time they really can’t force another orgasm out of her fragile body, not that she needs it. Fleur just needs to feel their cum inside of her, dripping out of her, the soreness for the next few days, all of it. Even Luke is barely holding on by a thread, stilling inside of her and just letting his coworker push in past him, rubbing so deliciously against both of them. “Holy shit. Gonna put our babies inside of you, baby, yeah? You want that?” Luke has no idea what came over him but it seems to be affecting her when she clenches around them and lets out a pornographic moan.

Luke cums first, having edged himself all night, and coats her walls with spurts of cum, seemingly never ending. The whine that leaves his mouth is downright sinful and so so hot to her ears as it mixes with Colsons sounds of pleasure. “Fuck fuck fuck” He breathes out loudly, releasing right after and burying himself in her to the hilt. Thick ribbons of cum fill up her vagina, an evidence of both of them actually being there… an evidence that she actually just fucked her idol and best friend at the same time. For a short period of time she registers nothing until a warm, wet cloth brings her back to reality, both of them kneeling down between her thighs and staring at her with a worried expression. “There you are love… did so well for us. Took us like a champ, we’re so proud of you.” Luke presses a soft kiss to her nose as the other man wipes off the residue of them from her thighs. “Gonna kick everyone out,” he mumbles, more to Kells than to her. “You staying with her?” It’s supposed to be a question but the way he words it leaves no option for no.

The second Luke puts on his pants and a fresh shirt, Colson pulls the blanket over her naked frame, letting her cuddle into his side. 

“Sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.” 

[actuallysaiyan]

La La Love You(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Haibara Yu)

warnings: smut, fluff, AU, Haibara and Nanami do not know each other in this fic, Non-Sorcerer AU, College age AU, threesome, unprotected sex, oral sex(fem receiving and male receiving), polycule of sorts, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use, creampie finish, praise kink, degradation kink word count: 3k!!(I cannot write short fics these days I guess) pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Haibara Yu summary: you and Kento meet Yu at the local punk show and hit it off! a little too well... a/n: This is the fic from the poll! I really wanted to write something for these two and I hope you all enjoy! Heavily based on the punk shows I used to go to when I was in my early twenties and the many hangovers I got from going to them. Dividers by the wonderful benkeibear!

TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly. @namikyento @benkeibear

@adharadotcom

@heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82

@melisuh123 @galactict3a @erebus-et-eigengrau

You’re just stepping out of the washroom and heading towards the drink table when someone bumps into you. You gasp as the cold liquid of their beer hits your shirt. The brunette standing in front of you has a look of surprise on his face. He’s immediately apologizing profusely.

“Shit I am so so sorry!” The guy says, a look of guilt written all over his face.

“No, don’t worry about it! It was an accident.”

The guy takes you gently by the hand and leads you back to the bathroom. He grabs a shit ton of paper towel from the broken dispenser and begins trying to clean up the mess on your ripped up Ramones shirt. Your eyes soften at the chivalrous action.

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

The words you speak send him into some sort of shy frenzy. He’s blushing and trying to say it was the least he could do for messing up your shirt. You just shrug and smile, making his heart skip a beat.

“I’m Haibara Yu, by the way.” 

You shake his hand, “Yu. Nice name!” You introduce yourself.

He finally gets a good look at you. You’ve got piercings and colored hair, and you look like you belong at this venue. Yu, on the other hand, looks quite preppy and cute. But despite his outward appearance, he’s always been a big fan of indie and punk music. So when one of his friends mentioned this basement venue, he figured he’d come check it out.

“You’re not here alone, are you?” Yu asks, smiling brightly.

“I’m here with my boyfriend. I think you should meet him!”

You take his hand, and Yu notices the rings you’re wearing. One of them is in the shape of vampire fangs, the other is a cute black cat, then there’s a gorgeous ruby on a golden band. He figures your boyfriend must have given you that one.

The two of you make your way outside to the smokers. Leaning up against the wall is your boyfriend. His blond hair is partially obscured by his dark hoodie. He has a cigarette dangling from his lips. His black-rimmed eyes dart around until he spots you. A smirk spreads on his face when he notices you with some preppy looking guy.

“Hello there princess,” Kento says and wraps his arm around you. “Who’s this charming man?”

You smirk, “This is my new friend, Yu!” 

Yu blushes and looks away bashfully. He’s never really had an experience like this before. Most of the people who go to shows like this just take one good look at him and they sneer at him. Not everyone at the punk shows are nice, but he thinks you’re so sweet. He wonders how your boyfriend will react.

“Yu Haibara, nice to meet you.” Haibara extends his hand to Nanami.

“Kento Nanami. Pleasure to meet you,”

Nanami takes a drag off the cigarette before he places it between your lips. He doesn’t fail to notice the way Yu seems to be admiring you both. He smirks to himself before he pulls you in even closer.

“You come to see the bands tonight?” Kento asks your new friend.

“Yeah! I’m stoked. I saw the band Blue Thunder last time they were in town.”

Kento chuckles, “Oh man, they are good. I loved their set the last time they were here. You remember that, baby?”

You smile sweetly before handing him back the cigarette, “They played some of the coolest songs. I got their setlist too!”

The three of you continue discussing the bands playing tonight. Kento is very impressed by Yu’s knowledge of the music. When you’re done smoking, Kento holds your hand and guides you back into the basement venue. He looks at Yu and beckons him inside as well.

The three of you get some good spots near where the first band is setting up. Kento goes to get you and Haibara a drink, and when he returns, this is when Yu realizes that he’s being included. He smiles at Kento and they both begin discussing some things. You notice that they actually have a lot in common.

Soon the first band goes on, and all three of you are moshing in the front. A few more people join you all. It’s so much fun this way. Everyone is being rowdy and loud and the band is playing to their heart’s content. Then it’s time for the next band to get on the little stage. It’s the band Yu was talking about, Blue Thunder.

You head over to the drink table to get all three of you drinks. When you return, you notice that your boyfriend and your new friend seem to be speaking in hushed tones. When you inquire about it, they both seem to shrug.

“Nothing, pretty girl. It’s nothing for you to worry about.” Kento presses a kiss to your lips. “Just watch the show, honey.”

You think about it for the rest of the set, but it soon slips your mind as you drink more booze. You’re not exactly drunk, but you’re buzzed. By the time the show is done, you’re ready to head home and order in some take-out. Kento grabs your hand and you two make it to the merch table, picking out some shirts. Yu is sly, giving money to the person at the merch table to pay for the shirts you pick.

“Hey! You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a blush on your cheeks.

“Nope, but I wanted to! You both made me feel so welcome.”

The three of you exit the cramped and sweaty basement to the cold air outside. It sobers you up a little as you shiver. Kento unzips his hoodie and wraps it around you, pulling you closer. You light up a smoke, and you look surprised at Yu. He’s smoking as well, which you could never have guessed.

“That was a good show,” he comments, a plume of smoke surrounding him as he exhales.

Kento nods, “Yeah, it was amazing.”

“I agree. That was a lot of fun.”

Before you know it, both guys are on either side of you. Kento holds your hand, winking at your new friend. Yu grabs your other hand, gently stroking it with his thumb. You aren’t sure what’s going on now, but you aren’t complaining. You decide to roll with it, seeing as you’re feeling really good right now. 

The three of you walk towards the apartment you share with Kento. Kento unlocks the door when you get there and he invites Yu inside with a wink. You know that something has been said between them without your knowledge, though you can’t imagine what it was. 

Inside the apartment, Yu gets a better sense of who you two are. You’re clearly anime fans, but also you two love to listen to music. In the living room is a dilapidated couch where you settle, and in the corner next to the TV stand with the many gaming consoles, is a state of the art record player. Kento goes over and picks out one of your favorite albums to put on as background music. Then Yu comes to sit with you on the couch.

“Does anyone want leftovers? We ordered pizza last night. I was going to pop them in the toaster oven.” Kento suggests.

You nod, “Yes please.”

Yu smiles. “Yeah I’m game.”

After a few minutes, the three of you are munching on the refreshed leftovers. Yu begins to talk more about himself, and you realize how much of a sunny guy he is. He’s just so sweet. You linger on every word he says. His smile is so infectious. 

Soon there’s a joint being passed around. You begin to feel cuddly and affectionate. You crawl onto Kento’s lap, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. Yu feels something stirring deep inside of him as he watches you two become so touchy-feely. It’s making him feel things he’s never quite felt before.

“She’s so cute, huh?” Kento asks, watching the way Yu is reacting to all of this.

“She really is,” Yu spills out, his cheeks burning at his admission.

Kento presses a kiss to your neck, his hands gently rubbing your shoulders. Then he allows his hands to trail downward, getting close to your breasts. But before he takes them into his hands, he reaches behind you and unclasps your bra. You let out a sigh of relief.

You and Kento look at each other for a few minutes, then he cups your face. With a look towards Yu, Kento presses his lips against yours. You moan as Kento deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer to him. As much as Yu wants to look away, he just can’t seem to bring himself to do so. The sight of you and Kento kissing is quite arousing.

When you pull away to breathe, both men are noticing just how much sensuality is in the air. Your lips are red and swollen just from the small amount of kissing you’ve been doing, but already you look like you’re ready for more.

“How about you kiss her?” Kento suggests.

You’re being shoved onto Yu’s lap very shortly, and you smile shyly as he looks at you with those big expressive eyes. He’s different from your Kento, but he ignites something within you. His big hand cups your cheek, pulling you into him. The minute your lips touch, you know you’re never going to want to let him go.

You two continue to kiss, and you feel his tongue hesitating to glide against your bottom lip. You part your lips ever so slightly, and you hear him moan as your own tongue slips into his mouth. His hands grip onto you a little tighter, pulling you to straddle him. He’s getting a little greedy with all of this.

“Hmph, looks like I don’t need to teach you how to kiss her.”

You and Yu break apart, looking over at Kento. He’s smirking at you both, his belt unbuckled. He’s teasingly playing with the bulge in his pants, winking at you.

“How about it, princess? You want us to fuck you?” Kento asks you as pulls you back onto his lap.

“Mmmm…yes, please.”

Yu’s eyes widened. He knew that Kento had talked about this at the show, but he figured it was just a bit of a joke. He hadn’t been able to tell if your boyfriend was serious or not. But he understands that the blond man had, in fact, been quite serious about the situation.

“Wanna see how cute she gets when she gets horny?” Kento asks the brunette.

“Uh—yes! Yes I do.”

You love the way Yu is so eager for all of this. He’s so excited to be a part of this. Kento hikes up the skirt you’re wearing, showing off the cute little panties you’re wearing. It’s almost embarrassing for you, but being exposed really has your heart racing.

“Come here, Yu.” Kento beckons.

Yu is quick to crawl over to the both of you, and Kento guides him to get on his hands and knees. Haibara doesn’t even think twice about it. The minute he’s between your thighs, he’s going crazy with just the smell of you.

“Push her panties to the side,” Kento instructs. “She loves when I get a little impatient with her and just push them to the side.”

You let out the cutest whimper when Yu does exactly what Kento tells him to. You look down at the cute guy between your legs, and he looks up at you with his pupils blown wide with lust. Your pussy is on display, and he loves the way there’s a string of arousal that clings to your panties. He leans in closer, and with Kento’s approval, he begins to press kisses to your clit.

Your eyes roll back. He’s so gentle and sweet, which is a bit of a contrast to the rough and passionate that Kento can be sometimes. His tongue is so warm as he swipes it against your folds. You tremble at every movement he does. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair, praising him for being such a good boy.

Yu’s cock twitches in his pants from the praise. You smell and taste so good, he’s not even really able to think straight. All he can think about is how badly he wants to make you cum. He wants to keep drinking up your juices until you push him away from the overstimulation.

“F-fuck,” you breathe out. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Wow, princess, you must have really been wanting this.” Kento teases before he reaches under your shirt.

He’s tugging on your nipples, toying with the piercings there. And Yu’s suckling on your clit, his lips latched on. He moans with every stroke of his tongue, rendering you into a moaning mess. It takes very little to pull you over the edge, and you have a very sticky and wet orgasm all over his tongue.

“That’s my good girl,” Kento praises, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple.

Yu backs off when you begin to whine. He knows that he’s satisfied you well beyond what he intended. He looks up at both of you from his position on the ground, expecting a little praise as well. You reach down and push his hair back from his face.

“Fuck you are amazing.”

Yu smiles happily, resting his face on your thigh and gently caressing your pussy. You shudder with every brush of his thumb against your clit. He loves the way you’re so sensitive after cumming.

“Wanna do this on the couch, baby?” Kento asks you, kissing your lips.

“Mhmm…” you smile sweetly. “Yeah I do.”

Him and Haibara help you up, bringing you to the couch. Kento positions you so that you’re bent over the arm of the couch. Then he looks in your eyes and smiles.

“Who do you want where?” Kento asks, wanting your consent.

“Mmmm…can I have Yu fuck me?”

Kento smirks at the brunette. Yu is achingly hard in his pants. Then Kento comes over, cupping Yu’s face. You watch over your shoulder and you see them kissing gently. It’s tentative, but it’s so fucking hot. Kento unbuckles Yu’s belt and helps him out of his pants. Your eyes bulge when you see how hard Yu is.

“You want that, baby?” Kento asks as he begins to stroke Haibara.

“Fuck yes, please.”

Haibara comes over to you, spreading your legs. He looks at your tight little holes. He doesn’t know that he’s ever done anything quite like this. His fingers slide up and down your folds, spreading your wetness around a little more. Then he grasps his cock, positioning himself. Slowly, he slides into your warmth. 

“She feels good, yeah?” Kento asks as he makes his way over to you. “Y-yeah…so warm.”

Kento chuckles as he watches his new friend fuck his girlfriend. You and Kento have always talked about a situation like this, and it was finally happening. You look up at your lover and he smirks. Yu picks up his pace, fucking himself into you harder.

“She really loves it when you go deep,” Kento explains, cupping your face. “Deep and fast and hard.”

Yu nods his head, pushing his shirt up from his belly and placing it between his teeth so he can see himself fucking you. You let out the cutest moans, clearly loving this treatment. He wonders if you enjoy being teased by Kento, and he can see that this is something you two like to partake in together.

“Open up,” Kento says to you. “Show him how good of a cocksucker you are.”

Without hesitation, you let Kento enter your mouth. With both your mouth and pussy being filled, you don’t know how much longer you can last. Your walls are already fluttering around Yu’s girth, making him grunt and gasp. Kento loves the way he’s able to keep control over the whole situation.

Kento leans over, pressing his cock even deeper down your throat. He gently caresses Yu’s face, pushing some hair out of his face. Yu blushes at the attention, and he feels his balls draw up.

“S-shit…” Yu breathes out. He reaches down between your thighs, rubbing your clit. “I’m gonna cum soon.”

You let out a cute moan, begging him to release inside of you. Yu is shocked by this, but he can’t help but get even closer to his release. He wants to make you cum more than anything.

“Make her cum first,” Kento says. He pushes you back down onto his cock, and you swallow around him. “Then she’ll show you how much of a cumslut she is.”

Yu’s head is swirling with dirty thoughts. His hips are stuttering as his climax is building fast, but he can tell you’re not far off either. Your walls contract around him, squeezing him tight. Kento’s bucking his hips, getting himself closer to his own orgasm.

You fall off the edge first, your moans being muffled by Kento’s thick cock. He grunts as he feels the vibrations all throughout his shaft. You shudder and shake as the pleasure takes hold, and your little pussy is milking Yu.

“Go on, princess. Show Yu how good of a cumslut you can be.”

Yu’s pace falters as the pleasure gets to a peak. He grunts loudly as he falls off the edge next, his hands digging into your hips bruisingly. He fucks his cum deep inside of you, momentarily forgetting how irresponsible that is. Then he slowly begins to come down. 

Kento’s next. He growls loudly as ropes of his cum fill your mouth. You eagerly swallow it all up, and he caresses your cheek when he pulls out. Yu pulls out next, mesmerized by the way his seed leaks out of your tight little hole.

Kento comes over after he’s tucked himself back into his pants. He pats Yu on the shoulder, smirking to the brunette.

“Told you she’s a good little cumslut. Give her time to recover and then you can try out her mouth, yeah?”