
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4021573.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Mituna_Captor/Latula_Pyrope, Eridan_Ampora/Latula_Pyrope, Eridan_Ampora/
      Mituna_Captor, eridan_ampora/latula_pyrope/mituna_captor
  Character:
      Eridan_Ampora, Latula_Pyrope, Mituna_Captor, Cronus_Ampora
  Additional Tags:
      Double_Penetration, disgustingly_cute_matesprits, cronus_ampora_is
      literally_the_worst, canon_slur_usage, Threesome_-_F/M/M, SizeKink
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-27 Words: 6894
****** places I ain't ever been to ******
by Alana
Summary
     Knights rescue damsels, but dragons take them home to play with.
     It's not like she can leave the kid to Cronus' weirdo creeping,
     though, right?
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
You generally make a policy of it to, like, not hang out with Cronus, ‘cause
that dude is seriously messed up, yo. You don’t like the way he looks at you,
and you sure as hellz don’t like him on a personal level, and you triple-
hellaciously are not into his weird and desperate and gross-butt attempts to
flirt with you and your matesprit-- not that Mituna ain’t worth hitting on,
your lover is damn fine and hilar to the maximum, but you’re a knight and you
don’t like the, like, vwibes that dude gets around his head when he thinks he’s
alone with your babe. Makes your skin crawl, legit.
But the vibes today are even more harsh-like, so harsh they get to creeping up
your backstrut and raising your hair before you even get around the corner on
your board-- you were on your way to grab your babe for a date, and so you’re
gussied up and got your tits half-out for easy grabbing because by date you
mean a hookup that happens to have a little bit of video games before and
during and after and like even more during, and yo this is a look for your babe
and knowing something bad’s in the air even before you get around to seeing the
thing is making you kind of wish you’d changed when you’d, like, gotten there,
you know?
So, like, you get around the corner, pulling a hoodie out of your modus and
over your boobs as you go, and when your head pops out the hood you get your
gander on at whatever unradical thing is happening with peep’s brains.
It is super unradical; Cronus has got this little baby wiggler of a ghost
backed up against the arm of a bench, one as violet and finny as him but in
this sweet-ass cape and with his fins all laid back and face all petrified with
this pale, unsettled look, and Cronus has got a one of those grabby-but-in-the-
unfun-way hands of his on the armrest, and the other caught up around the kid’s
wrist, and you don’t even need to see the way intimate way he’s got his thumb
moving up the kid’s palm to make your mind senses get all fucking kinds of
shrieking in your head. “Yeah, I knowv vwhat you mean,” he says, low and just
inside your hearing, “if I’d been able I’d’vwe done that same shit to the one
here, vwould be a mercy to take a wvand--” (and he turns in closer, the weird
bulge-holder bit of his godgarb pressing up the kid’s thigh, gross) “-- and do
vwhat ought to havwe been done wvhen he first got broke--”
You can feel the kid getting all twisted up, face going paler, whatever reply
he means to make trudging out of his face so muffled in Cronus’ weird-ass
monologue about some shit you ain’t following that it might as well not be
there, and there ain’t no kind of buffer between him and the shit popping out
of Ampora’s mouth that you can feel.
A knight’s job is, like, to protect, right?
You let your backstrut get another shudder out before you swoop in, fronds out
for a high-five with a whooping, “Heyyyy, lay one on me, Ampora!” ‘cause you
know he ain’t gonna turn fast enough. He doesn’t, and you lay the smack across
one of his horns, laughing. “Wow, lamezors! You didn’t even try to catch my
five, bro!” you tell him, face all grins as you screech your board to a stop
and kickflip it up into your sylladex.
“Oooowwwvvwvwv,” Cronus replies, hands backing off the kid to clutch the horn;
your smile maybe gets a bit more real, and the lil’ baby ghost is real hasty to
get whatever he was holding back in his specibus and his cape up around his
fins a bit more. (One of them looks extra violet, like someone pinched it. Or
bit it. Cronus, the fuck?)
“You gotta keep up better, bro!” you continue, “you ain’t ever gonna be mad
radzzz with reflexes like that,” he gets his snarl-face on for that but you
ain’t even bothered, “no matter how much cute company you keep.” Heyyy, kid!
You grin at him specifically, and surprise a little smile back out of him,
uncertain but cute as hell. Dude, he must be six or something like all the
other kids ‘round here. He’s still only got a couple glowspots on his face,
half-hidden by his glasses, and you bet if he weren’t dead his eyes would be
grey as his skin, and Gods know you’d already gotten your bulge up in your
matesprit by that age (love and hormones don’t wait on nobody, lolz!) but damn
does it look young from this end, and you kinda wanna smack Cronus again.
“Wazzup, yo? You got a name, Bittypora?”
“He’s Eri--” Cronus starts, sullen but like he’s maybe going to show off, but
you shove your hand in the dude’s face and shhhh at him real loud, and then
shove him some more so you can get your tush in the middle of the bench, yo!
(Ew, you should’ve worn real pants, your bare thigh is touching Cronus’ jeans
and you can feel his eyes go there. So uncool.)
“Eridan Ampora,” the kid answers, after a beat of glancing between you and
Cronus. “Uh, you’re a Pyrope, right?”
“Yeah, babe! But you can call me Latula, hahah!” You lay out your fronds, palm-
up, and tell him, “Lay five on me, dude, it’s rad to be knowing each other’s
names!”
He does it, haltingly, while Cronus splutters (“Hey nowv, this vwas a privwate
convwersation, Pyrope--”) and you straight-up ignore him, keeping a feel on the
kid’s brain. Cautious, but not freaking anymore, that’s cool! You let yourself
know you’re doing rad, and high-five yourself in your brain, all like hey look
me, I’m really helping! and yeahhhh gurl you doin’ good, you deserve to be
happy about this noise! “You into gamez, bro? Like, besides the one we all got
killed in, I mean.” A vital question!
Eridan flicks his fins and answers a cautious, “I’vve played a couple,” (and oh
shit that accent is way cuter than Cronus’, it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to
grab you by the anxiety glands, though maybe it’s his sweet little pre-molt
voice that ain’t got real undertones yet that’s making you think that): you
grin at him, and accidentally kick Cronus in the shin while turning to face the
kid more, with a totes sincere-sounding “Whoops!” tossed over your shoulder.
“Uh,” he continues, when you fix a bright and friendly attention on him,
pushing your shades up into your hair, “FLARPING, mostly-like-- I wwas a
corsair-- an’ I guess some other stuff. Competitivve things, you knoww.” He
fusses with a curl of hair, tucking it back behind his fin, then up in the
gelled biz he’s got going on between his horns, then back behind his fin when
it fell down again.
“Heyyyy,” Cronus begins behind you, trying to lean past you to talk to the kid,
“I like some pretty svweet games too--” before you unforgivingly knock him in
the nose with your elbow and say real loud over him, “That’s mega sweet, kid!
I’m way into competitive games, too! Hahaha, what’s the point of playing if you
ain’t got a shot at winning, right?” You take a breath, gauge where his brain’s
at real quick, then pat him on the hair between the horns-- you’d ruffle but
that ain’t the kind of goo you were planning on getting all over your hands
today (lol)-- and ask, leaning in conspiratorially, “You wanna come play Troll
Italian Dude And Friends Race in Impractically Small Transportation Vehicles:
Number Sixteen with me and my boyfriend?”
(“No, he’s on a date wvith me!”) “Fuck yeah,” Eridan tells you, and you cackle
and tell him that’s rad and get another low five out of him before sweeping him
off on your longest board, his arms around your waist and biscuit pumping all
excited as you leave a blushing and furious and spluttering Cronus behind.
                                     • • •
“Yo, Tuna!” you holler, “you got pants on? We got a mad radz guest up ins!”
“Is the guest your bulge!” he hollers back, and laughs, sticking his head out
the hall, “‘cause that’s the motherfucking fucker I want up inzzz me-- oh shit
shit hi shit, you’re a person!”
“Uh,” Eridan says, looking around the mega-sweet bachelor pad you and Mituna
hang out in together (even though you ain’t bachelors exactly), “yeah, I’m a
person. You’re...?”
“None of your motherfucking fuckface bizwax you wader fuck fuck motherfucker--”
your babe starts, rapid and stumbling, and you croon, “Oy, sweet Tunz, be
nice,” and his face goes contrite and he mutters something out that even you
can’t catch quite right. “Sorry,” he tells the lil’ Ampora, “‘M Mituna.”
“Radical!” you tell him, cheerfully, and he bursts out with the widest grin
that’s meant for only you and for really good sex jokes. “You fucking rocked
that introduction, babe! This lil’ guy here’s Eridan, I was all up and cruisin’
in and got a vibe up in my pan to do some Knighting. You dig, right?” (Eridan
looks way startled when you link up elbows with him, but he don’t even try to
move away, so you hope that means he’s cool with it.)
Mituna comes out into the hall (wearing pants, that’s good, don’t wanna spook
the lil’ guy after his run-in with Cronus), and leers at you. “I dig...
yooooouuuu,” he sings at you, and you laugh.
“Dig you tooooo, babe,” you answer, and he pounces into your arms and smooches
you all awesome and sloppy and gets his teeth in your lip and you kiss him
back, getting your claws up under the back of his helmet to scratch his fuzzy
head and feeling all the lean vibrating warmth of your babe against you-
- mmmnh, screw the date, maybe the two of you can go off somewhere private and
see where this takes you-- wait shit the kid, lol, can’t forget the company!
“Mitzzz,” you buzz at him, and gently hip-check him back a few inches, though
you keep a hand on him to keep him up. “Mituna, babe, baby, love, save it for
when there ain’t a kid here--”
“Shit shit, yeah, sorry,” he tells Eridan, who’s violet and kinda wide-eyed but
his brain ain’t spooked so you figure he’s just not used to so much sexy
happening right in his space, “forgot, sorry sorry sorry, shit,”
“It’s, uh, it’s cool,” Eridan says, tugging on his scarf, and the both of you
beam at him. “I wwas promised Troll Italian Dude Races Number Sixteen, though?”
Mituna brightens even more, fangs all out in his grin and light shining out
from behind his visor. “Yeah! Yessss,” he agrees, and grabs on to your other
arm, “Dude races, Latula, we were gonna go do that! And when I win you’ve gotta
suck me soooo fucking sweet-ass dry that it’s like a bukka--”
“Guest rules, babe,” you override him, though damn you would be super down for
that otherwise, “not house rules. But if you win I’ll totally do whatever
later, haha!”
The two of you grin at each other, and Mituna smooches you again, missing your
mouth and nipping at your nose instead. You laughingly bite his chin in
revenge, then drag your babe and your damsel in distress off to play video
games with you.
And, dude, it is super fun.
Eridan is freaking terrible but that means he gets all the power-ups and you
and Mituna laugh SO hard at each other when the kid gets his sabotage on and
blows you the heck up, and you’ve got him tucked between you and Mituna so you
don’t get distracted making out and he seems to be getting really comfortable
there, not minding at all when y’all lean into him to make your turns even more
radically sharp (it totally works that way) or when Mituna flails a little and
starts swearing, and even when Mituna falls over straight into his lap and you
screech in laughter and lean to kiss him upside-down, chin on his visor and
nose on his chin and his tongue getting all kinds of busy with yours, he just
gets his controller up above your sudden makeouts and uses the distraction to
blow past you in the race and claim his first victory, cackling in laughter
himself.
“You can’t alloww yourselves to get distracted in battle!” he crows at you,
eyes bright and fins wide and a real genuine grin on his face (and shit he’s so
much fucking cuter than Cronus ever was, man, how can they be sharing genes?),
and you elbow him in the side and tell him he was madz cheating, and Mituna
can’t stop laughing (you’re getting a little worried but you GUESS he doesn’t
need air anymore) but he messes up the kid’s hair with both hands and Eridan
doesn’t even fuss about it, just demands another round.
He plays dirty: halfway through, he slumps down on the couch so he ain’t in the
way and grabs you by the hoodie and pulls your torso straight into Mituna, who
chirps in surprise before grinning wickedly and honking your tits, which leaves
you gasping with giggles and in last place. (“All’s fair in wwar,” Eridan tells
you both, this smug-ass look on his face, and you see a little bit of Cronus in
there but it’s just a flash, and you gotta admit that Cronus would’ve never
done that thing, let someone else smooch a peep so he could get ahead doing
something else!) Mituna’s hissing something in Eridan’s ear, but you can’t hear
it over your own laughter, so you just get the tail end of it when Eridan’s
spots suddenly get to glowing hot violet straight out to the tips of his
finprongs, and his cheeks nearly match them, and he makes a kind of choking
noise.
Mituna gives you the sex-jokes-and-you grin, and you get the feeling from
Eridan’s face that it was at least 90% the former, and you bump your fist into
Mituna’s shoulder. “What did you get to telling him, babe?” you ask, eyes
narrowed and grin just as wide as his.
“Nooooothing, no, didn’t say things, at all, noooooope,” he sings, then
switches back and tells you, “You’re maximums distract when I grind with you.
Without my injureboard! And without pants. Hahahahaha shit you’re turning blue!
Latula! Blue!”
You bump his shoulder again, and tell him, grinning and super blue, “Shut uuup!
S’not like you don’t get distracted by that--”
“Are wwe here to flirt or play?” Eridan interrupts, and the words are way
grumpy but his voice ain’t behind it. He’s maybe too blushing to have any
pissiness in him, which is super adorable, and you coo to him, “Yeah, play,
sorry kid--” when Mituna yells “Flirt!” and dives right across Eridan to bury
his face in your boobs.
Okay yeah flirting is fun as heckz and you love to do it all the time with your
main man, but--
And then Mituna licks his way up the side of your neck and at your earlobe and
bites you kind of too hard (which is just the way you like it) and your voice
rises for him, your second voicebox taking control and letting him hear just
how sweet that felt, and Eridan jolts at your side but both the dudes have
brains singing back to you.
Shiiit.
“Babe,” you whisper, “babe, babe, what about Eridan,” and Mituna slurs “fuck
‘im” and Eridan jolts again and even Mituna notices this time, turning a little
and licking his fangs and grins wicked-like and asks, “You want that? You
fucking want our filthy sexbits? We got two sets, we are grind masters, we can-
-” and you can tell he’s talking dirty in the stumbling slurring torrent he
lets loose before you get yourself together and gently lay a hand on his mouth.
“Mituna,” you ask, as sweet and gently as you can, “can you hold onto all that
shit in your pan for a couple minutes? I know it’s hard, you’re all leaking up
there, but I wanna ask Eridan a thing and I want you to listen too. Can you do
it for me?”
He grunts and gnaws on your thumb, but keeps the smut tucked away behind his
teeth, and you turn to look at Eridan, who has got to have a headache from all
that blood trying to cram itself into his face.
“I can feel how your head’s all kind of into this,” you tell him, and his fins
flutter, eyes wide and pupils like maybe even wider under the white, “but if
you wanna just keep on playing games, that’s cool! Or if you wanna split and
come back later when we’re all sexed out, you’re super welcome, like, it would
be rad to have a player three for games more often.” You wait for a moment, but
he doesn’t say anything until you nudge your knee against his.
“Uh” isn’t a whole lot of anything to say, but it’s at least kinda responsive.
“... If you wanna stay until we’re all sexed out, that might be okay, too.”
He’s young, but, like, he is always going to be young, he’s never going to molt
and he’s never gonna get his second voicebox, and he’s sweet and into at least
one of you, and also you might get to accidentally casually torment Cronus with
the fact that you laid his date and that would be super fun. And he’s cute, and
you were having fun with him, and it ain’t like he’s not old enough to tell if
his bulge is into something. It wouldn’t be awful of you, right? “Mituna, would
that be okay?”
Your babe is thinking a lot of things in every direction, but he jerks out a
nod, and you get a leak of a thought-- sometimes his mind’s real clear to you,
just for moments, when all the cracks in it line up right to let you in-- of
the kid spread out on top of you, the two of you painted in violet and teal,
and damn if that doesn’t look absolutely great.
Eridan’s still silent, and Mituna’s getting twitchy, so you pull Mituna over
Eridan and into your lap and tell him, “You can tell me all the things you put
up in your pan a moment ago, babe, you were so good at keeping it back for me,
you’re so great, just let the kid think a minute, okay?”
Your babe purrs and cuddles into your neck and starts telling you all the filth
he bottled up for you, and you laugh and listen and purr back, and scratch the
back of his neck, and scratch the back of Eridan’s neck, too, fingers gentle.
He’s super free to get away, to the other end of the couch, or the other end of
the dream bubble, or legit anywhere he wants to go.
After a couple minutes, he ends up leaning in closer, a hand going awkwardly to
grab the shoulder of your hoodie, and the soft-edged chest-purr of a pre-molt
kid rising up out of him. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I wwanna stay. It’s-- uh-
- s’not like a chance like this comes evvery day, right? I’d havve to be
straight-up retarded to say no.”
Mituna cackles suddenly, right in your ear, and leans back to leer at Eridan
and say, “Shit shitty shit even I wouldn’t say no, bulge-brine-bulgesniffer!
Have you looked at her tits?”
“Uh,” Eridan says again, and his eyes descend to your tits, still hidden by
your hoodie; you laugh and peel out of it, not at all helped by Mituna’s hands
gluing themselves to your horns and scraping his claws in irregular tracks over
your scalp but you get it off enough to captchalogue it. Now you’re in the
outfit you meant to be in, dress a wrap-around that mostly just needs the right
kind of tugging to get off, tits well available for staring, grabbing, or
nibbling on; Mituna and Eridan both do the first, before your babe makes a
crackling noise of delight and buries his face in them, teeth scoring your skin
and making you squirm and giggle. “Bro,” you croon to him, “they ain’t nothing
compared to your rad-ass face. You wanna let us see it?”
His reply is muffled, not at all helped by the fact that he’s licking up your
cleavage at the same time, but he raises his face to you and you purr and ease
the helmet off him, so you can see his beautiful white-washed eyes, his damp
and wild hair making a valiant attempt to escape his head, the broken crook of
his nose and the yellow flush in his cheeks between their ragged scars. “You
like what you see? I got more I could show you! Strip me naked, my bulge’s half
of what’s hidden-- hahahaheehehehe--”
“Oh, that’s way gonna happen,” you agree, “but we don’t wanna neglect our
guest! You could show all two of us this bulge of yours.”
“Two!” he agrees, happily, and pulls back a little to grin at Eridan. “You
wanna see it too? (Two!) It’s fucking magnificent, like, fuck, it’s the size of
you--” He holds his hands way apart, as far as he can stretch them, and you
duck under the one that nearly hits you in the head to blow a raspberry on his
chest, because he’s there and you can.
“Sounds like wwhat you’re tellin’ me is outright lies,” the kid tells you two,
but not like he’s mad about it, which is good ‘cause both you and Mituna are
giggling too hard to soothe anyone. “I’ll havve to see it to believve it.”
“Oooh,” you croon, and lean over to smooch the kid on the fin, “That sounds
like a challenge! I live for challenges! My bulge,” you tell Eridan, “is at
least twice as big as Mituna’s. I make the Horrorterrors feel like they ain’t
packing enough, that’s how big mine is.” The kid is laughing, kind of
embarrassed but like, you can see through his tight stripy adorable pants that
he ain’t exactly uninterested. There sure is movement going on down there!
“Mine’s so big I’ve fucked a horrorterror! From here! But he wasn’t as fucking
hot as you, you’re so fucking good, love you--” Mituna squirms and grinds his
sweet little tush against your crotch, which is great, “-- want you fuck me,
fuck me with your monster, fucking fuck bitch get on it--”
You chirp for him, glance at Eridan, and suggest, “How about both these bitches
fuck you, love? Twice the bulges for you to ride on, I bet that’d be the
raddest damn idea ever-- Eridan, would you be game?”
He’s still laughing, so his face is open and readable when he gets what you
said and gets a look like that is the filthiest thing anyone’s ever said to
him. “Yeah,” he rushes to say, “I’m game, wwe can do that-- yeah. Yes.”
Mituna’s just drawing the word “fuck” out like it’s the only thing he can think
of to say, which means that he’s super into it, especially when his horns start
sparking weakly and his bulge is making a super nasty attempt to get out of his
jumpsuit. “Babe,” you hum to him, and cup his cheeks, fingertips tracing the
outside of his ears through his hair, and he grunts and grinds harder, “you
want us both up your nook, or one of us up your wastechute?”
“Don’t care, I want to get fucked, fuck you,” he breathes, and you giggle and
rub your nose against his.
“No, fuck you,” you tell him back, and stand up, a hand on his butt to keep him
right where he is, the other held out to Eridan. “We’ve got a platform, kid,”
you tell him, “it’ll be way easier than doing this on the couch,” and he’s
flushed as hell but grins at you and takes your hand.
“Right, wwell, lead the wway,” he tells you, and you do, pulling him close
enough that his face is right near your boobs and your arm is around his
shoulders; he makes a surprised little noise, like he wasn’t really expecting
to get pulled in like that. But his brain is humming to you, a little nervous
but not scared and a little anxious but not wanting to flee, and you purr at
him, and he purrs his sweet purr back.
You lead the way, feeling like a dragon with the best treasure hoard in the
world.
Mituna’s a mess when you get him set right on down on the platform, grabbing
your hair and twitching eagerly as you kiss him, and you love looking at him as
he sings for you in his throat, raw and shaking and crinkled around the edges
but that’s what makes the song his. Eridan’s looking, too, breath making weird
little patterns around Mituna getting all back-arching and throat-bared, and
you ask him, “You wanna get over here and take care of my sweet babe, kid? I
gotta get the floor all dressed up in my nice clothes, lol!”
“Yeah,” he agrees, breathless, and comes close, one small hand wrapping around
Mituna’s shoulder and the other hovering like he doesn’t know where to put it.
“Wwhat, uh-- wwhat should I do?”
Your babe laugh-gasps and grabs the kid by the horns and kisses him, and Eridan
makes a noise like that’s the raddest thing to happen to his face ever,
uncertainty evaporating as he clings close to your gorgeous matesprit. Oooh,
that’s nice to look at-- Mituna’s pretty small and gangly, but he looks sharp
next to the kid’s sweater-softened shape, and he’s steering Eridan closer in
jerky little tugs so he can wrap his legs around the kid, mumbling something
into the kisses. Eridan’s definitely getting overwhelmed, but he’s not looking
to try and do anything but let himself drown in Mituna’s enthusiasm, so you
step back and let them at each other while you roll down your socks and kick
off your kicks and drag your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but
your boxers. Your bulge is apparently ready for whatever radical adventure
awaits it, and is doing its best to drag your boxers down by the waistband.
Well, hey! It’s got a good idea!
You whistle to your boys, and Mituna sits up so fast that he nearly knocks
heads with Eridan; they’re both glowing across the cheeks, Mituna’s spots low
and faltering under his scars, Eridan brighter than you’ve ever seen on anyone.
“Shit,” Mituna says, and licks his lips, staring at your bulge.
“I kneww you wwere lying about how big it was,” Eridan says, but he’s also
staring at your bulge, watching it as you get it to drag your boxers down your
thighs. “It’s, uh--” He waves a hand, rings clinking as his fingers do a funny
little aristocratic-looking wiggle, and then forgets what he was going to say,
apparently.
“Dude, I was super lying about how big it was,” you agree, and let go of your
boxers, shimmying to step out of them before stepping over to your favorite guy
in the world and the cutest kid you’ve ever had a threesome with. “But it’s
still way nice, right?”
“Fucking glorious,” Mituna agrees, and stretches an arm around the kid to grab
it. You make a low noise and lean around Eridan on the other side to kiss him.
The kid is a little caged in, but he doesn’t look like he minds, and you see
out of the corner of your eye as he reaches to touch you, too.
His hand is cold when it wraps around the base of you, and it doesn’t even get
half way around, and you get a little surge of excitement from how small he is
next to you. That should probably be gross, you think, but your junk is
throbbing in pleasure, and you purr and kiss his neck.
“Wanna see if Mitz was fibbing, too?” you ask him, mouth just below the lowest
prong of his fin, and it flutters so hard it baps you in the nose.
Mituna laughs like he’s going to break a rib, and Eridan recoils like maybe he
just fucked up, and you laugh because that was the funniest fucking thing that
has ever happened while you were seducing a cute peep. “Oh my god kid!” you
gasp out, and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and kiss his horns as your
boobs get all up in his face. “Oh my god! That was way too fucking cute, damn!”
“Do it again! Again!” Mituna chants behind Eridan, wheezing, and grabs his butt
with both hands; his fins bap right into your tits, and you nearly fall over
laughing, clinging to the edge of the platform with one hand and to Eridan’s
cape with the other.
Eridan is flushed prong to prong, his hand withdrawn from your bulge, but that
doesn’t matter; you reel him in with his cape, and lean down to eye-level, and
kiss him on the mouth, deep and eager-like. You can feel the tension flip out
of him like it was trying a rad new trick and totally nailed it, and in like
three seconds he’s butter-pliable against your mouth, breath coming fast and
hands trying to find a way to cling to your bare hips.
“You’re mega sweet, babe,” you tell his mouth, then plant your hands firmly on
his hips and twirl him up onto the platform, giggling at the startled look on
his face. “But don’t think that’ll distract me from getting Mituna’s junk out!
It needs marveling at every day, or else it starts thinking it ain’t the most
sweet-ass radical junk I’ve ever seen.” You lay a peck on one of his glowspots,
and his glasses get even more askew than they got when Mituna was attacking his
face, which is also mega sweet.
You trail your fingers over his cheek as you turn to your fave babe, and waggle
your eyebrows at him. “You ready to get sexzzzzzzy?” you ask him, leaning over
him and stroking your hands over his chest, and he hoots in laughter, mashing
his face against yours and licking your cheek.
“Fucking already sexy, fucking bitch,” he tells you, “but I’m fucking ready to
get my grindz on, c’mon, lemme hop on that rail--”
“-- Thought we were the ones railing you today,” you croon to him, and he howls
in delight and grabs your horns and kisses you like there’s nothing else in the
world that’s better than this. There probably isn’t, you’ll totally admit,
except maybe the railing that was about to happen.
Laughing together, you start unzipping bits of his clothes and pulling them
away, but you keep on getting distracted by his kisses and his legs going
around your waist and all these gorgeous scars and fresh bruises that you
reveal as you strip him down. Each and every one of them needs kissing,
clearly--
Wait, shit, no forgetting about the kid! You twist your head and get a slobbery
lick on your horn in retaliation, and purr to Eridan, “Here, help me kiss all
his bumped bits, kid! It’s a job I can’t do alone, hahaha!”
Eridan jumps a little, but looks at the wide bare swathes of Mituna’s skin
you’ve gotten ready for the kissing. He licks his lips, and leans down
awkwardly, and presses a tiny peck to one right on Mituna’s shoulder, and your
matesprit jolts and whines. “Shit you’re really fucking freezing. Fuck you’ll
feel awesome in me, like ice up my fucking nook, c’mon, Tula, wanna get him in
me--”
“Aw, shit, babe,” you sing to him, and captchalogue his clothes off his body,
and reach over and grab Eridan’s shirt and do the same for him. He flinches,
eyes wide, but you and Mituna look at him and he looks like the most ridics
tasty snack you’ll ever have, soft and well-fed and violet down to his fragile-
looking collarbones, and Mituna’s already reaching out to grab the kid’s bulge,
violet-black and gooey and trying to curl up the kid’s own nook now that it’s
free of those super cute but mega tight pants. It’s like half shorter than
yours, but there’s these interesting thick bumps in it, and a line of soft
barbs near the bottom, that’d scrape and rub real nice when inside a dude or
dudette...
“Yessss,” Mituna hisses, “fuck yes, fuck, fuck, get in me,” and you ain’t gonna
disagree with the sentiment, ‘cause damn.
You roll onto the platform and squirm to get behind your Mituna, and settle
yourself kneeling with your knees against the outsides of your babe’s thighs.
“You heard the dude,” you chirp to Eridan, and beckon him with both hands,
grinning. “Let’s get you up in his nook, it’s gonna be so warm for you, it’s
like bangin’ happiness when Mituna’s on your bulge--”
“You’vve convvinced me already,” Eridan grouses, but he’s licking his lips
again, and crawls closer, and closer, until his hands are on your bare thighs
and his bulge is curling at the air above Mituna’s. “Just-- uh-- it’s been a
wwhile since I’vve done this.”
Having been basically totes convinced Eridan was a virgin, you can’t help but
grin at that, but you ain’t gonna call the kid out on a little fib like that.
“You can take it slow, we can wait--” you croon to him, reaching out to stroke
his horns.
“Shitting flyfucking frog-faced bitches speak for yours-- fucking-
- yourselves,” Mituna whines, and grabs Eridan’s hips and pulls at him; Eridan
looks relieved at the guidance, and sinks down so his bulge is tucked up
between Mituna’s legs. Well, you guess there’s more than one way to bang a
seadweller! And then Eridan squirms, and his bulge-- you lean closer to watch,
and Mituna moves with you so he can watch too, even though he’s already
gasping-- the first round thick bump popping inside Mituna’s nook.
“Fuck,” Eridan says, trembling, and leans his forehead again Mituna’s shoulder,
sweat beading on the arch of his back-- god damn, that is a fucking excellent
sight-- and Mituna returns the word, apparently in agreement as he rocks his
hips and Eridan rocks his and his bulge works against Mituna’s nook and in goes
another bump, and they squeak in unison.
You might come all over Mituna’s butt just watching this, damn.
“You’re both gorgeous,” you tell them, voice low, and stroke their horns, bulge
squirming into the small of Mituna’s back, along the crack of his perfect
skinny butt. Eridan’s head jerks up, against your hand, and you can see his
blush hasn’t gotten any less all over the place; Mituna just melts back against
you, one of his shaking hands reaching up to grab one of your horns, too, and
he mumbles how he wanted two bulges, fuckers, c’mon, he can do this stunt--
Breathing out laughter, you lick his horns until he’s breathless for you, all
kinds of sweet noise pouring out of him, and tug at Eridan until he sinks into
Mituna as deep as he can, body stiff and trembling. “Oh my cod,” he says, voice
high and thin and weak, and grasps for your hand, clinging to your wrist. His
other arm goes around Mituna’s neck, hanging on like he’ll, you dunno, like, do
a backflip into getting off and pailing Mituna right up his nook if he lets go.
Which is hot, and also mega super exxxtremely adorable. (God they are both so
super freaking cute and you have the raddest afterlife.) You slide your hand
off his horn, so you can link fingers with him, and his hand shakes in yours,
and you murmur how cute he is, how much you like how he looks right now, how
pretty and soft he is, you could just kiss him all over-- you could kiss both
of them all over, kiss their hipbones and their horns and their ankles and suck
their bulges like you’ve known years of majorly unrad bulge famine-- “But,” you
interrupt yourself, “we promised this pretty guy right here that he’d get two
bulges in him tonight. And yours is totally sweet and I wanna get a ride on it
too sometime, but it’s still just one!”
“Oh my cod,” the kid says again, face pressed to Mituna’s chest, fingers
clenching.
With an eager grind against your bulge, Mituna warbles, “I wanna watch that,
after I get to feel it, fucking stuff me fucker-- Latula-- heart-- bitch--”
You laugh, and tell Mituna, “No more waiting, babe, we’re doing this.”
He hisses yesssssss and shoves himself to wobbly upright, taking Eridan with
him; his hands are on your thighs and his bulge is squirming across Eridan’s
belly (oh shit, it almost reaches his gills, if Eridan took it he’d be just-
- so super full, stuffed with more than he should even try to take, but it
ain’t like risky sex is really a risk when you’re already dead-- damn, thinking
about it ain’t helping you not paint your babe blue before even getting your
bulge inside him). You kiss his neck, then bite it to hear him chirp, and get
your hands under him to lift him more, tilt him into the kid even more, so you
can just see a flash of violet-flushed nook past his butt. Eridan’s leaking
like nothing you’ve ever seen before, damn.
“Let’s do this biz,” you coo to them both, and let your bulge rub straight
across Eridan’s chilly-wet nook (hnnngh), nuzzle up to the cold base of his
bulge-- oh damn those barbs are nice, pronounced enough to feel but soft enough
to feel perfect-- and watch Eridan’s mouth open wordlessly and his eyelids
flutter to near-closed. Mmmmhhh. “Pretty,” you tell him, and shove your bulge
hard against Mituna’s nook, squirming around Eridan’s to try and get in--
Mituna yelps, swearing, and his breath comes hard, and he squirms his hips,
spreading his legs wider, nails digging into your thighs; good signs, even with
the pain in his voice. You both like a little pain, and this isn’t too much for
him, you’re pretty sure. (You hesitate to listen to his cursing anyways, and
hear enough garbled demands for more between his hisses and snarls that it’s
definitely a good sign. Eridan is weirdly silent, except that he’s maybe
hyperventilating a little, but his face is still transfixed so that’s probably
good too. And, like, man, you are not gonna stop unless someone actually tells
you to at this point, so you purr and bite Mituna and shove again, and your
bulge pushes in, Mituna’s nook blazing hot when Eridan’s chilly bulge is
cuddled up with yours, nnn--
Swearing flips straight into singing, Mituna’s voice rising shrill as a
cricket’s, and Eridan spasms with a weak little noise, and whoops yeah kid was
definitely trying to not come. You can’t help but chirp as Mituna’s nook fills
with the kid’s genetic material, though, slick and thick and icy cold,
dribbling down your bulge-- and the kid’s bulge is throbbing with it, damn, you
can feel how the bumps in it are swelling at the pressure of getting off, and
staying swelled, how goddamn hella is that--
You think you’re praising the kid, mouth on autopilot, head entirely invested
in dragging Mituna down on your bulge hard, shoving your way inside him until
you’re twisted and bent double in his nook and you’ve still got Eridan in there
with you and there’s violet everywhere and all it takes is a little squirming
in his hot-cold-tight nook until you’re coming too, burying your teeth in his
shoulder until you can taste hot sweet blood on your mouth, feel every pulse of
him on your tongue, fuck him rough and sweet in twice as much genetic material
as he can hold, fuck--
                                     • • •
Eridan’s the first to manage words, like, five minutes after you’ve all fallen
sideways on the platform. You and Mituna were having a purring contest, and
Eridan was just breathless and stunned-looking, but eventually his voice
wobbles out of his mouth (you love his mouth, you love every cute inch of him,
not as much as you love Mituna but more than enough to have sex with him again
even though you barely know him and he’s always going to be way too young-
- young and small and soft and so, so pretty, and he’s gonna be so easy to
wreck, and he’s gonna be yours--) and he tells you, “I think, maybe, Mituna
wwas lyin’ through his teeth, too.”
You don’t have the energy left to laugh as hard as you want to, but you snort
and giggle into Mituna’s hair and get a wobbly elbow under you, enough for you
to drape yourself over your love’s shoulder.
You kiss Eridan, and he squeaks, and it’s mega adorable.
Yeah, you’re gonna keep him.
End Notes
     Bless my friend uumiho, without whom this would have never been
     written. If you want more cross-generational appleberry/grape/awesome
     lady awesomeness, check out the considerably less fluffy (but super
     freaking awesome) fic she wrote alongside me:
      the_part_where_(you)_break_free
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