#cool hip flasks

[freckleslikestars]

One of my favourite parts of bartending is being able to take home all the random shit that gets left there/confiscated. And being the only person who volunteers to go in on my off days to organise the glass store/office/lost property in exchange for a couple drinks and taking home any of the interesting shit I find that we as a bar don’t need/want. Good times

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Laswell and Nik watch Price play a Rugby match. Part 2.

cw: brief mention of injury, hand job right at the end.

Look, I just love the idea that Nik, Laswell and Price are good friends outside of work. I want to write more of it. All my work is self-indulgent but this is PURE self indulgence.

The plastic chairs were damn uncomfortable and Laswell was pretty sure she could have managed an extra pair of socks inside her boots, but the atmosphere was contagious. Jubilant, loud; people stamping their feet and blowing on their hands in the cold, old comrades meeting again after a long time, families gathered to see fathers, sons, husbands, play.

Plus, she had promised, hadn't she? And seeing her long term friend do something that didn't have the threat of a bullet mixed in was an opportunity she felt she deserved as much as he did.

"Here, Laswell."

A plastic cup of beer appeared in front of her face between the large fingers and thumb of her companion for the day, and she took it in two gloved hands. "Thanks, Nik."

"It tastes very bad," he informed her as he swung his leg over the chair next to her and fell into it heavily, taking a swig of his own with a grimace. "Da. Like barman pissed into a cup."

"Really selling it to me," she chuckled before taking a sip, nose wrinkling. "That is... quite the aftertaste."

Nik shrugged. "It is all part of the experience, and," he ferreted through his jacket, lifting his ass off the seat, and pulled out his hip flask, "ha." He offered it to her first, to which she shook her head, before he unscrewed the cap with his thumb and dumped a generous helping into the top of his drink. "How long?"

"They headed in from their warm up about ten minutes ago."

"Ah, he looked good, no?"

Laswell nodded, her eyes crinkling with her smile as she noted the blush of pride on Nik's face. John Price had, indeed, looked good. He had been rosie-cheeked and energetic through all the drills despite the cold, keeping up with the younger members of his team without any apparent issue.

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he had been laughing and grinning throughout, exchanging banter, and pausing to talk with someone he recognised in the stands, only ending the conversation with a handshake and bump of the shoulders when his coach - a Major something or other, according to the introductory leaflet - bellowed at him.

It was John's boyish glee that had caught Nik's attention more than all the tight woven shorts around thick thighs, the bulging biceps and full chests stretching through Underarmour base layers, and she had watched his eyes blow wide as he fidgeted in his seat, desperate clearly to be closer and bask in John's happiness rather than observe it from afar. She'd sent him for the beer to cool off.

It was an interservice friendly. Navy versus army. A pre-season warm up before the international competition began and the British armed forces would field a composite team of the very best. "Will they win this one?" Laswell asked, chancing another sip of beer and regretting it the moment it touched her tongue.

"Da. The Navy have uh, what to say, fast backs, but their forwards have bad... set pieces."

"Did you understand a word of what you just said?"

"Nyet." Nik grinned. He loved listening to John talk about the game and absorbed every iota of information he could to share in that passion. That didn't mean he was any better than Laswell in understanding what the hell was going on.

"Do you think he'll be selected for the internationals?"

"He has already been asked for his availability."

"Of course he has. Annoyingly, I don't think I've ever encountered an activity that John Price doesn't excel at."

Nik huffed a laugh. "He is an overachiever. Although, not such a good cook. I have never seen someone turn custard into rubber before."

"Aha! A weakness. I will store it for later use."

They lapsed into a momentary pause and watched the crowd find their seats. Nik checked his phone, and then nudged Laswell for a selfie to send to John. They toasted their crappy beers and Laswell conjured her cheesiest grin with a thumbs up. Nik sent it without filters, because he was brutal like that.

Nik (10.15): [image.jpeg]

JP (10.17): good-looking pair of muppets 👍

Nik (10.18): are you feeling ok?

JP (10:19): hammies tight but physio happy.

Nik (10:19): I will help with that later

JP (10:20): countin on it 👌💦😜

"You better not be sexting while I am right next to you, Nikolai."

Nik smirked at her and shook his head once. "He is fine. Nervous."

"You got 'nervous' from that?"

"Da."

"Nervous for a Rugby match but doesn't even bat an eye at leaping from a Hercules into an active firefight with a single page's worth of intel..."

"He feels out of practice. He missed the start of the tournament due to work."

"Ah. Story of our lives, Nik." They missed so much living due to work. Kate had missed the birth of both of her nephews, her brother-in-law's wedding, her sister's fortieth birthday party. So many big life events that would never repeat. But that's what made things like this special. It may be a forces match, but John was choosing to do it. He enjoyed it. Sharing in that enjoyment, that moment of happiness, that was special too.

"They are coming," Nik said like an excited boy on Christmas morning, having spotted the players at the mouth of the changing rooms. He stood with the rest of the crowd and Laswell rolled to her feet too, joining in the cheers and clapping as two lines of outrageously built men jogged out onto the pitch.

Nik and Laswell stood in respectful silence as the band played through the national anthem and the two teams lined up to bray along with it, hands on chests. The British national anthem was a damn drone, but at least it allowed everyone to pull it off. They sat down after the applause, when the two captains met with the referee in the middle of the pitch for the coin toss.

John tried to make the glance into the stands discreet, but the smile when he spotted Nik and Laswell - due to Nik's not so discreet full-armed wave - was difficult to hide. Hands on his hips, he looked down, scuffing the grass with his boot bashfully before turning to listen to the referee outline his expectations.

Sometimes she forgot about the sixteen year age gap between them; he was so brilliant at it all, so driven, so focused and relentless, he was her peer and her equal, but she had already been at the game for twelve years when he enlisted at 16. Whatever she felt in that moment at seeing John so pleased by their presence, his cheeks dimpling in that full-hearted grin he had, felt annoyingly maternal. She necked some beer.

Nik leaned in. "He will choose to receive."

"Mhm."

"Laswell," Nik said, feigning shock as she hid her smirk against her plastic pint.

The navy took the ball with them, the ref jogged backward with his hand in the air, and the two teams lined up. John was the 'fly half', which Kate understood to mean he was the decision maker of the team. It required effective leadership and communication to connect the forwards with the backline and navigate the enemy defence. The perfect role for one Captain Jonathan Price if ever there was one. Which explained the bright yellow captain's band wrapped around his bicep, clashing with the green and white jersey with its big number 10 on the back.

A single peep of the whistle marked the start of the game and the navy's number 10 put their boot to the ball, the rest of the team surging down the pitch behind it. One of the backline received the ball and immediately shipped it out towards the wings to begin making progress in the opposite direction.

The difference between American football and Rugby had always struck Laswell; the ball was the same-ish shape, there were set pieces for different scenarios, but that's where the similarity ended. Rugby was about keeping play moving. It was a relentless, brutal battle down the pitch, with hits that made her teeth shake and no padding between bodies and the impact.

The navy was playing aggressively, forcing the army's backline to reset. Every time the army's scrum half dug the ball out of the breakdown - which was what Laswell understood the huge pile of bodies on the floor to be called - John was there to receive it. He was agile, twisting, turning, everywhere at once; a testament to his own hard work to maintain his fitness and mobility.

One of the navy forwards was too slow off the mark and slammed into John once he'd passed the ball, bringing him to the ground hard with a shoulder to the gut. Nik was halfway out of his chair on instinct, and Laswell reached out a hand for his forearm. "It's part of the game, Nik. An honest mistake." The ref blew the whistle. Free kick.

John rolled to his feet, tugging the legs of his shorts down from the creases of his thighs before plucking the ball from the ground. He chose to kick into touch and gathered his team before the lineout. They hunkered down, listening intently. Laswell could hear his voice in her mind, imagined his tone, and when she glanced off to Nik and saw the look on his face, she knew he was doing the same.

John set the backline, barking over his shoulder and gesturing with his arm to get them in position, once he was happy, he indicated to the scrum half to take the throw in. The ball sailed over the heads of the two lines and found the hands of the army's flanker, who knocked it with practised ease into John's waiting palms. It sailed down the line quick, John sprinting behind the line. The navy thought they were going for a try at the wing and sent their players down to meet it. John cut in halfway and took the ball through a gap created by their miscalculation.

The hulking opposition forwards couldn't catch him once he had the space to open up with long strides, and he pushed one optimistic player off him like he was nothing. Laswell heard Nik breathe something in Russian, leaning forward in his chair, only to leap up the moment that ball touched the try line. She stood with him to clap and he threw an arm around her shoulder jubilantly. "He is so good, did you see? Like a jet, I cannot--" she missed the rest, because he was too busy celebrating, half his beer splashing onto the ground.

An orange five appeared on the scoreboard at first, and then John turned it into a seven when he kicked the ball over the middle bar between the two posts. "A conversion, Laswell," Nik informed her, toasting the scoreboard as it ticked up.

John's try seemed to turn the tables. Now that the army's side had seen the defence clinically dissected, it was like they were more confident in picking those holes. Seven turned to fourteen, fourteen to twenty-one. The navy managed to land a try shortly before half time but their fly half, John's junior by about fifteen years, missed the conversion kick, leaving the scoreboard at twenty-one to five.

Nik topped up their drinks while the two teams disappeared off the pitch, and returned with a flushed face after a suspiciously long time away. "You snuck into the changing rooms, didn't you?" She asked as she took the beer.

"Da," Nik confessed, shifting in his seat. "I did not stay long. He had a briefing to do."

"Of course he did," Laswell said, chuckling. No doubt Nik had gone to admire John in his kit up close; all that clinging lycra and polyester around John's frame. For a man, John had one hell of an ass. She was surprised Nik wasn't foaming at the mouth every time John bent over to receive the ball from the breakdown.

The second half started shortly after Nik's return. The army started with the ball this time, kicking it into the second half and chasing after it to shut down the offence before they could make ground.

The navy had apparently had what John would call a bollocking, because they were back to their form of the first twenty minutes, hitting hard and punishing gaps. Nik frowned as John was tackled for the third time in ten minutes. "They are targeting him," he growled.

"Oh yeah," a man to their left chimed in, "reckon their skipper told 'em to break that one's legs."

"Nik, it's trash talk," Laswell warned as the big Russian suddenly coiled with tension. "They will try to close down any advantages. He's one of them."

She, perhaps, spoke too soon, because the next hit made John stay down a bit longer, and he disappeared under a pile of bodies that dwarfed even him. When he finally got to his feet, there was blood streaming from his eyebrow. The ref blew his whistle and pointed at John's face, then the sidelines. He didn't even argue his case, chucking his armband to the scrum half's hand before jogging over to the medic, replaced by a sub.

Nik had been on his feet throughout, and now tracked John to the sidelines with his eyes, no doubt scrutinising his gait for abnormality. "It is superficial," Nik said, perhaps convincing himself not to vault the stands. "He will go back on."

"After being kicked in the head?"

Nik frowned, arms folded over his chest. He wasn't happy about it either.

As predicted, John returned to the pitch at the next blow of the whistle, his head wrapped in bandages and tape. The army had put up a valiant defence while he'd been off, and did so for the rest of the game, allowing only one more try to sneak through and returning it threefold. The final score at the end was forty-two to twelve in favour of the army, and the boisterous celebrations on the pitch carried on through the sportsmanlike cheers exchanged by both teams, followed by handshakes and cheers for the ref.

Nik and Laswell picked their way through the stands to the main bar to wait for John to emerge from the changing rooms. Another thing she quite liked about this sport in particular was that the players cleaned up in shirts and ties before they were allowed out. She had thought it was a services thing, a hang up about order and respectability, but no, they even observed the rule at club level. It was about respecting the clubhouse, the fans, the game and each other.

It took John about thirty minutes to arrive, his white shirt and green tie neatly pressed, wool trousers belted at his waist. Nik was on him in seconds, one hand taking his jaw, tilting his head left and right, to inspect the cut through his eyebrow. "Nik," John said through a soft laugh, "s'olright, been checked over."

"For concussion?"

"Yeah. Just a stud scrape. Nothin' dramatic."

Nik's hand slipped around the back of John's neck and Laswell could see the desperate desire to kiss his partner flash over his face, but in the end he only nodded and drew away. She sighed. So much had changed, and yet so much stayed the same.

"Kate, you made it," John said, that Quokka-smile in place and big arms enclosed her in a hug.

"Oh, I was in the area." She returned the embrace and then pushed the pint of bitter into his hands. "Well-earned, I think."

"Huh, yeah, 'm fuckin' knackered," he admitted, wiping the foam from his moustache after he took a sip. "A few of the lads want to do a crawl through the local bars, but I'm gonna turn in. Monday's chocka."

"I don't blame you," Laswell said, hopping onto a stool. "I thought you'd play soccer, you know."

"Rugby is a gentleman's sport and the captain is a gentleman." Nik sat next to her, his elbows on the bar. "Soccer is for thugs and idiots, no?"

"Hoohoo, shit, don't let Simon hear you say that, Nik," John said, leaning his hip against the bar at Nik's side. "You'd have to sleep with one eye open."

"So, the Liverpool scarf is just for show." Laswell recalled the tattered old thing hanging up in a frame in John's office. It sat right next to his medals of valour and a photograph of the 141 in Belgrade.

"Naw, once a Red always a Red."

"That means something very different where I am from," Nik said lightly.

Laswell chuckled low in her throat and John threw his arm around Nik's shoulder for a squeeze. They stayed until the man of the match was announced and, unsurprisingly, John had been selected by the team for his try.

He received the award in the same understated way he did his medals; a thank you to his team and to the panel, then 'all the best' before heading back to his drink. Once again Laswell watched Nik swallow the desire to demonstrate the affection bubbling beneath his skin. She was glad for Nik that John would require plenty of care this evening; an opportunity to dote to his heart's content.

Despite the generally positive experience, she was glad to flop into the backseat of Nik's hired Audi, watching the streets of London flit by as they left the pitch behind. By the time they dropped her off at the hotel, John was struggling to keep his eyes open, slumped low in the front seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if to hold himself together. She exchanged a look with Nik in the rearview mirror, the creases around his eyes betraying his knowing grin. John was clinging on for her benefit. Sweet, but unnecessary.

She opened the door but leaned forward to squeeze his shoulder before stepping out. "Well done today."

"Cheers," he said sleepily, one of his big paws parting over the top of her palm. "Thanks again. 'ppreciate it."

"Any time, John. I enjoyed myself. See you soon."

She patted Nik's shoulder too and he touched her wrist in return, before she left them to head to a well-earned rest in their Premier Inn. Hopefully a kiss too, or Nik might just implode.

--

Nik managed to convince John into a bath with the promise of a glass of whiskey. Without it, he would be stiffer in the morning and not in a way they could enjoy.

Once John was settled amongst the bubbles, Nik sat at the side with a pillow beneath his rear, one hand in the water to stroke whatever part of John happened to be near, while the other held a novel open against his thigh.

"Thanks for comin' today," John said in the comfortable quiet. His voice was soft, his eyes lidded. He had sunk lower, the waterline lapping at his collarbone.

"Of course. I enjoyed watching you in your element, John."

"It was the... uh, first time someone's come t' see me play."

Nik let the novel fall closed and twisted, resting his chin on the edge of the tub. "Have you not invited the sergeants, or the lieutenant?"

"Ah, they have better things to do 'n come and watch me play rugger at the weekend."

"I think you underestimate how much your team loves and admires you."

John hummed in the way he did when he wanted to argue but knew it was a losing fight. Nik got that noise more and more these days when it came to John's perception of other's opinions of him. He had an accurate and pragmatic understanding of his own abilities when it came to work, but that didn't seem to translate into a sound understanding of how much he was admired. The hum was a step forward towards acceptance, in Nik's opinion.

"You will invite them next time."

"Oh will I?"

"Da. And they will feel honoured by the invitation."

"What if I get my arse kicked? Almost did today."

"Then they will be there to pick you back up again, as they are in the field."

John fell silent, heaving a sigh through his nose. Nik gathered his legs underneath him and slipped his second hand in the water to caress the aching body within it. He ran the backs of his fingers over John's chest, down the valleys of his abdomen to the v-shape dips of his hips, and finally to his thighs.

"How are these?"

"Sore. They'll be fi--mm, Nik...'

"Is good?"

"Mmhm."

Nik rubbed his thumbs in firm circles, feeling knots and tension pop beneath them, and watched John's expression melt back into relaxation. He moved from one leg to the other, working his way up slowly across the large expanse of muscle to John's hip.

"Enjoyin' yerself?" John asked, an eye popping open to study Nik's face.

"Da. Watching your legs today was... hm, it made me want to spread them in the shower and demonstrate my admiration."

If it wasn't for the warm water, John would have flushed, but Nik was content by the shy smile he got instead. "In front of the entire team, eh? Filthy git," John mumbled.

"If you would enjoy others watching me make love to you, then I would consider it."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," John said, scrubbing a hand across his face. His body betrayed him though, because the mere thought of it has caused his prick to harden enough to peak just above the surface. Nik tickled up the inside of John's thighs to his sac, fingertips stroking the heavy weight of it in the warm water. John's knees tilted out to give Nik access and he reached for Nik's chin with one wet hand, guiding him down for a kiss.

Nik kissed greedily as he played gently between John's legs, revelling in the vulnerability of his lover's exhausted body surrendering to the tenderness he offered. His tongue swept into John's mouth, licking the taste of whiskey from his teeth, the tip brushing the ridges of his pallet, sucking his tongue, his lips, before sinking lower to kiss his neck.

John made soft noises of pleasure, his heels skidding across the ceramic of the tub, damp fingers winding into Nik's hair. In the warmth of the water, his skin was soft, sensitive, and Nik knew how to touch him. Had spent many a night learning what made John moan and sigh, how his entire body was a map of erogenous zones desperate for a gentle hand that Nik was more than willing to provide.

When Nik encircled John's prick, stroking slowly back and forth, John let out a pleased sigh. "Fuck, Nik... Dunno whether I have the energy."

"You do not need it. Let me look after you."

"Would prefer t' give as good as I get. Ahh, fuck, Nik..."

Nik soaped his hand using the pump at the side of the bath and returned to John's eager prick. Tired he may be, but his body yearned for Nik as much as Nik's did for him. Nik kept a firm pressure, squeezing a little former on the upstroke, precum splashing over the edge of his fist. "John, you are so beautiful... You are so desperate for me."

"Yeah, Nik, haa, ah, god fuck, I'm close already..."

"Come for me then. Do not hold back. I will have you tomorrow, spread your legs and take what I want..."

"Fuck..."

"I know you wanted me to take you in that changing room, your blood running hot--"

"Ahh, Nik, fu--"

"--I know you wanted to touch yourself in the shower, thinking of me--"

"Mm, yeah, yeah, please, Nik..."

"I know what you need, I know how you ache for it, how you want to be filled by my cock and fucked well."

John latched onto the edge of the tub as he came, his thighs and stomach pulling tight, head pushing back as his cock pulsed in Nik's hand. Nik slowed his stroke, milking out the aftershocks as John gasped.

Nik kissed him lightly on the lips as his pleasure faded to throbbing embers, releasing his softening prick to rinse his hand. "Beautiful."

"Just nutted to dirty talk. Not sure beautiful's really the word."

"You do not see yourself as I do," Nik replied, admiring the brightness in those blue eyes, the ruffled hair, the flush. Beautiful was too empty a word for the majesty of John Price, but it would suffice for now. "Time for bed, John. Come."

Nik helped John out of the bath, teasing him about his shaking legs as he helped dry him with a second towel. John slipped naked into the soft, clean sheets Nik wasn't complaining; it would be easier to tease him open tomorrow morning. He was asleep and snoring softly before Nik had even switched the lamp off, the pillow clutched under his head.

Before Nik could sleep, he worked himself over to a swift and gutless orgasm that would allow him to sleep, knowing full well he would be satisfying himself in John come the morning. He fell asleep admiring the peaceful lines of John's face, eternally grateful he had the honour of calling John his.

[actuallysaiyan]

BACONNNNNNN I HAVE A REQUESTTTTTTTTTTTT

can we get some choso and reader trying to fuck discreetly at a party? 🤭 them being caught or not is up to you 😘😉

warnings: alcohol, smoking weed, vaginal fingering, Choso is a little cocky but mostly cause he's scared to fuck shit up, college AU, unprotected sex, swearing word count: 1.8k pairings: Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader summary: you meet Choso at a party and something magical happens when the two of you decide to find a quiet room to hang out in.

The music is loud as you walk amongst the party-goers. You’ve been searching for someone in particular, but you haven’t seen him yet. He’s not much for parties, but he had assured you he’d be coming. Still, you were starting to have your doubts about this.

You grab a drink from the fridge, opening the can and sipping on its sweet contents. It’s one of those super popular mixed cocktails all the college kids are going crazy for lately. It’s a little too sweet for your taste, but it’s not bad right now. You’re a little buzzed and you know you need a bit more liquid courage if you were to see him.

You see a flash of dark brown hair and your heart skips a beat. There he is, Choso Kamo. The one you’ve been pining for all year long. The can shakes in your hands as you try to follow him, finding him heading out the backdoor to take in some fresh air. You know he doesn’t smoke, but enjoys the company of the smokers as they are all pretty decently chill.

You sink the contents of the can so fast, your stomach lurches as the alcohol splashes in your tummy. Then with shaky steps, you walk over to the backdoor. Without thinking twice, you exit the building and let the cool night air envelop you. It almost sobers you up as you feel yourself shivering. Choso smirks as he spots you, then he walks over to you to drape his sweater over your shoulders.

“It’s chilly out tonight,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

You giggle, “Yeah it is.”

You realize there’s hardly anyone else out here. Just a few stragglers trying to suck on their cancersticks in peace. Choso pulls something from his pocket and you smirk when you realize he’s brought a joint. Oh, so he does smoke…just not cigarettes.

“You smoke?” he asks, showing you the joint.

You nod your head, “A little.”

Your mouth goes dry as you watch him bring the joint to his lips. He looks hot even just doing something as simple as lighting a joint. He takes a few drags, his eyes drooping slightly as the weed takes its effect on him. Then he steps closer to you and passes the joint to you.

The conversation flows between you two comfortably. He asks about your classes and you complain about the amount of projects you have. Choso talks at great length about his own projects and the books he’s been reading. As you two chat and smoke the joint, you begin to realize just how much the two of you have in common.

It’s not long before he’s flicking the end of the cherry off the balcony. Then with a smirk on his face, he leans in a little closer. You feel his hot breath on your face and you feel need pooling in your lower tummy.

“Wanna find somewhere a little more private to continue this conversation?”

You should say no, and maybe tell him that you ought to go home for the night. But for the first time in so long, you were getting your chance with him. So in a low voice, you manage to agree to this. He takes your hand in his, leading you back into the party. Everyone is already so drunk and high, and the people dancing are almost pulsing to the beat of the catchy hip hop song.

Choso keeps a tight grip on you so as not to lose you. He manages to maneuver through the drunkards and ditzy girls. At the end of one of the hallways, Choso pulls you into one of the empty bedrooms. He closes the door behind you and then guides you to sit on the bed.

He takes a flask from his sweater pocket, the sweater you’re still wearing, and he opens it up and takes a swig. He passes it to you, a mischievous grin on his face. You take the flask from him and take a swig. It’s some very strong gin, which makes you cough and gag.

“Heh, yeah that’s some strong stuff.”

You shudder slightly when his big hand comes up to rub your back soothingly. Then his hand slides down your arm, only to go right back up so he can cup your cheek.

“You’re so pretty, ya know that?”

His words almost sound foreign to you. You have to think it over in your mind over and over again before his chuckle pulls you out of the funk. Then he just leans in and closes the gap between you two.

His lips are chapped but they feel so good against your own. You find some courage and you begin leaning into this kiss. His hands feel so good on your face as he cups your cheeks. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when his tongue slides into your mouth.

Just as you’re about to deepen the kiss, you hear some knocking on the door. Then a head pokes in, but the moment they see you and Choso, they close the door. There is some laughter, but you know it has to do more with them being embarrassed than you.

“Don’t pay them any mind,” Choso says as he helps you lay down on the bed. “Just focus on me.”

You don’t know what else to say, so you just nod your head and swallow your saliva. Choso smirks again before diving down to kiss you. This kiss is a bit hungrier and it’s paired with one of his hands caressing your body. He doesn’t linger on one spot for too long before moving onto the next.

You’re thinking he’s being coy about this when his hand shoves down your pants. You gasp into the kiss as his long fingers brush against your clothed cunt. Choso loves the sounds you make as he begins rubbing your swollen nub. Your panties begin clinging to your folds as he stimulates you even more.

“You like that, huh? I always thought you’d be into this sort of thing.”

His words do all kinds of things to you. Your mind is a mess as he continues playing with your panty-clad pussy. Then it gets even more intense as he pushes your panties aside. You moan his name when one of his fingers slides into you.

“Shhh…you gotta be a little more quiet than that, sweetheart.”

Choso isn’t quite sure where all this confidence is coming from, but he’s so glad he’s not completely fumbling. It must have something to do with the alcohol and weed he smoked. He’s thanking his lucky stars you’re into him just as much as he’s into you.

He pumps another one of his fingers into you to join the other, leaving you breathless and grasping the sheets below you. You throw your head back as his thumb comes up to rub your clit, making you drip all over his hand.

“How about we take this a little further, huh?”

His breath smells like gin and weed, and in that moment, it’s the most sexy thing you’ve ever experienced. You nod your head dumbly, your eyes rolling back with every pump of his fingers.

“Nah, you gotta say it. Say the words, baby.”

You swallow hard again, and try to think of the right words to say. It was becoming increasingly harder and harder as he continued to finger you. His long fingers curling to press against that spongy spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

“Fuck me, Cho. Please Cho…”

His cock throbs when you beg and you say his name so sweetly like that. It was going to be hard to resist you if you were going to be this cute every time he would fuck you. Choso knows not to push his luck, but he knows he’ll take the chance again if need be.

He’s quick to pull your pants and panties down. His mouth widens as he sees your cute little pussy on display. As much as he wants to taste you, he knows he’s got not enough time for this. He spreads your legs and then he’s pushing down his own pants past his ass.

“Ready for me?” Choso asks in a teasing tone, rubbing the head of his cock all over your soaked folds.

“Please, don’t tease me. I’m ready.”

With one long thrust, he’s balls deep inside of you. He thinks for a split second that he probably should have put on a condom, but you don’t seem to have any problems with him going in raw. His hips snap fast and hard from the get go, leaving you breathless. You cling to him as the pleasure builds so fast.

“Fuck, you’ve got the best little pussy, ya know that?”

His face is buried in the crook of your neck as he tries to quiet himself. You’re both moaning and whimpering, doing all you can to not draw too much attention to yourselves. The pleasure just feels so good. Choso can’t believe your little cunt is gripping him quite like this. It’s so tight and warm, he can’t help but pound you into the mattress.

“Fuuuuuccckkk,” Choso moans out as he presses himself even deeper into you. “Fuck fuck fuck—”

You feel him biting into the tender flesh of your neck to quiet himself even more. You cry out his name, nails coming up to dig into his shirt. You’re trying to keep yourself grounded, but it’s all too much.

“Tightest little pussy ever! Fuuuck you feel so good.”

Your walls begin pulsing around him as the fat tip of his cock keeps slamming into that sweet spot of yours. You’re not even sure how you’re keeping quiet right now, especially when he’s fucking you so good.

You watch as he leans back a little, pulling out just a bit and he spits on your cunt. You shudder as his fingers begin to rub the saliva on your clit, and his pace picks up again quicker than before. Flames lick in your lower tummy, and your mind begins to go blank from the sensations.

“Haaah, look at you. Fuckin’ you dumb, aren’t I? Damn, gonna have to make you my little princess.”

You nod eagerly, tears stinging your eyes as you feel the coil in your stomach tightening impossibly tight. Choso smirks as he watches you come undone. Your gummy walls begin to milk him, and Choso pulls out just in time to jerk himself off to completion. Ropes of hot cum cover your mound and lower belly. Choso then sits back on his knees, admiring his handiwork.

What surprises you is when he leans in and gives you such a tender kiss.

“I meant what I said,” he smirks. “Gonna have to make you my little princess.”

[cyberstrm]

rick sanchez x gn!reader

rick's ship landed in the smith's driveway with an ominous clunk. you both got out, and entered the garage.

today's adventure had been fun, but you had taken more damage than usual. limping slightly, you leant against his workbench as he began silently working on something, as usual. conversation was usually stark between the two of you, but it was comfortable. you enjoyed each others presence enough to not need to fill every moment with talk.

you felt yourself begin to sway, a dizzying wave rolling over you. you looked down, and saw the entire left side of your stomach was stained with blood.

"shit..." you breathed, and the pain suddenly hit you.

"you say something, babe?" he turned to look at you and his eyes widened. "shit, what the fuck happened to you?"

"shut up.." you breathed, feeling your legs begin to give out. "...and just fix it..."

your legs gave out, and rick managed to catch you. "fuckin' idiot- garage, fix them."

the garage's robotic arms released from the ceiling and painlessly cauterised the wound, before stitching it quickly. the arms set you down, and you sat on the cool floor, breathing deeply.

rick knelt opposite you, taking swigs from his hip flask.

"feelin' better, buttercup?" he slurred, patting your cheek affectionately.

"shut up, sanchez." you smirked.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 17

part 1 | part 16 | ao3

Heat rolls through Steve’s gut; low and quick, a vicious flare, and then he coughs and looks away. “Jesus, man," he splutters, "learn to take a joke.”

“Mmm-hm.” Eddie's smug smirk spreads wide, grows teeth; gotcha bitch, and Steve’s about to tell him to fuck off when he claps his hands to his thighs and abruptly stands up. Does a big stretch, swinging his arms out side to side, reaching overhead until his back makes a noise like a twisted sheet of bubble wrap.

“Holy shit!” Steve frowns. “You’re gonna break your spine.”

Eddie gives him a flippant smile. “That's the idea. Anyway...” He pretzels himself up again, groaning as his neck and shoulders pop. “Seeing as we’re trapped in here for the foreseeable future, you wanna do what the little psychos asked? Play twenty questions or have a heart-to-heart or whatever?”

“Seriously? And just give them what they want?”

Eddie shrugs. “Seems like the fastest way out of here, so yeah.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Please. You negotiate with them all the time." He folds forward at the hips, looking at Steve upside down between his legs, and twists a curl around his pinky. "Those kids have you wrapped around their grubby little fingers."

"They do not!"

"They totally do. Besides," he swings back upright, "I’ll negotiate with anyone if it gets me back home to my girl.”

"Oh." Steve stumbles at that. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie laughs big and bright, shaking his hair all over the place. “Yeah, Harrington, I have a girlfriend. You're funny. Y'know, Henderson could have saved us a lot of time here if he'd just told me you were fun—”

“Okay, then who’s your girl?” Steve interrupts with a huff, because Eddie’s just hopping around in circles while he laughs like Steve's a fucking moron for making a totally reasonable assumption, and he doesn't understand what's so goddamn funny about it.

“My girl, Harrington,” he all but coos when he collects himself, “is my guitar.” He bites his lip and mimes playing a riff; Steve doesn’t know shit about guitar, but he knows that Eddie’s fingers are quick, nimble and impressive as they jitter through the air. “We’ve got a show this weekend. Like, a real one this time, not just playing to three drunks at the Hideout.”

“Cool,” Steve says, looking away from his rings. “Congrats, man. You any good?”

“You could say that.” Eddie’s mouth goes smug and pleased, genuine pride shining in his big eyes when he rocks back on his heels. “The frat that booked us seems to think so, anyway.”

“Oh, shit!" Now Steve's impressed, because it's the weekend before Halloween, and that means, "College costume party.”

“Of course you’d be excited about that.”

“Hey, great place to get laid,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie chokes on his own spit. “You’re kind of a slut, you know that?”

“Rude,” Steve says mildly. He's not a slut; he's an opportunist.

The ground's starting to hurt his ass, so he stands up to join Eddie's impromptu yoga session. Eddie leans a hip against the workbench, folding his arms over his chest and giving Steve room to move.

His eyes flit to his hemline when it rides up on a stretch. "Would you..." he clears his throat. "Would you want to come?"

"Huh?" Steve twists around.

"To the show," Eddie adds, ducking his head to hide his face behind his hair. "You'd have to cram into the back with Frankie and the drum kit, but uh..."

Steve lets himself picture it for a moment, some alternate dimension where he's allowed to say yes: the winding highway to Indy, a van full of dudes cracking jokes and fighting over who gets to pick the music next, losing himself in the thrum of a crowd while he drinks and dances and watches Eddie on stage.

His throat feels tight, suddenly. He reaches for the flask and takes another sip of whiskey. "Don't all your bandmates hate me?"

"I mean... not any more than I do." Eddie's answer is quiet, his eyes swimming with candlelight; Steve doesn't know when they moved closer, when a hush settled over the room, but it feels like...

"Yeah?" he hedges, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he steps out onto the ledge; icy cliffside, slippery holds. The mountains are so much scarier than the deep sea. "And how... How much is that?"

His pulse kicks in his chest. Echoes down to his wrist, a nervous current beneath his skin. Eddie's eyes are so soft. Big and brown and dark. Dark like the deep woods; endless; sort of mesmerizing.

"Steve, I—"

The cellar doors shriek on their hinges.

—

part 18

part of the tag list below the cut comment if you want to be added (comment twice if you wanna be my tag manager lol i’m dyin)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So, in addition to a preview of the Norm one-shot, I've got this look at part one of a long-form two-shot that's been sitting in my drafts since I was about halfway through my first run of the show. I have a (now quite old) ask that fit the vibe of it perfectly, and I've been whittling away at it when the inspiration strikes. I still have quite a bit of work to do on it, including edits, as I'm predicting a final length between 13k-15k words. Could end up more, as I'm really terrible at this sort of estimation, but I wanted to let everyone know I'm still hard at work in the smut mines even if posts have been light lately. Please enjoy a preview from this upcoming Cooper Howard/The Ghoul piece:

Faim Pour Deux

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, drug use, jealousy, mild violence, age gap, sexually rusty old men, amateurish strip teases, nipple play, fingering, dry humping, reader not-so-subtly trying to tempt Cooper to fuck her until he snaps.

"Why don't you get a little more comfortable, darlin'?" Cooper asked, his tone brighter now, a step closer to the normal, cocky timbre you'd known him to have, but still soft as the patter of the rain on the dilapidated roof as he gestured to your unzipped vault suit. "Hop up and take that off for me."

You didn't hesitate to follow his instructions, though you struggled to figure out how to back up off of his lap as your feet dangled off the floor. Cooper offered no assistance, sitting back to watch you slide yourself backwards towards his knees, your cleavage spilling out of your undershirt as you pushed yourself with your hands. Once you found your feet, cheeks already hot from your fumbling dismount, you toed out of your boots before clearing your throat, hands coming up to your navel to grab at the cool metal zipper where it hung, half-undone.

"Take a couple steps back so I can see all of you."

This command took you somewhat by surprise, but, again, you obeyed, double checking the floor behind you before taking two steps back, avoiding his eyes. Rethinking your approach, you grabbed your left sleeve by the wrist in your right hand, tugging it awkwardly to free your arm, jerking the tight material down over your sore bicep in a rather unsexy move before twisting to repeat the move on the right.

Twilight was quickly turning to night, and the few chem lamps you'd set up only provided enough light to see well a few feet in front of you. Shyly, you stole a quick glance his way, struggling to make out any details at this distance, save for the shape and slight glint of his flask as he lifted it to his mouth and took a long draw off of it. His entire upper body was almost completely shrouded in the deepening shadows, but you could see those eyes, sunken deep into that face, glittering darkly at you, trained on you.

"Slowly, now." came that rough voice once more, slightly muffled by the back of his hand passing over what remained of his lips. "Gimme a little show."

You felt your face instantly flame up twice as hot as it had been, your already fluttering heart shifting up another gear into a full-on thunder. You had no idea what he meant—undressing itself wasn't enough of a show? Were you supposed to sing and dance while you did it? Recite US Presidents?

A handful of heartbeats passed, and you realized you were hesitating, but the ghoul in the corner didn't say anything. Your focus shifted, warily, back to removing your remaining sleeve, choosing to work it down from the shoulder instead, this time, focusing on the "slowly" until you could figure out the "show" part. After a few moments, you'd worked the top half of the grimy vault suit down to your hips, letting the arms hang loose at your sides.

If Cooper objected to the way you were going about things, he kept quiet about it, which would be uncharacteristic. He sat, still staring at you, reclined back in the chair as he reached for something else on the table beside him. The familiar sound of a shaking Jet container filled the air as you grabbed the stained, barely-mended tank by the hem, peeling it over you head, leaving you in nothing but your now sad, ratty bra above the waist. The hiss of the canister buzzed down your spine as the material passed over your eyes, giving you goosebumps as you looked to him once more, feeling drawn to that gaze. Your hands moved back to your waist to push the garment the rest of the way down, brushing across your soft abdomen on the way.

The ghoul interrupted you, wordless, his mouth fixed in a sort of pucker as he held the hit of Jet deep in his lungs. He snapped quickly, sharply, his free hand raising up off of the scuffed chair arm, his sewn-on index finger pointed to the ceiling, drawing a series of tight, quick circles with it. You'd seen that gesture before, you realized, feeling that squirming feeling in your gut again. Quickly, you turned to face the door, your back now pointing at your companion.

The feeling of his intense stare still burned into your back, but knowing that, at least for a moment, he couldn't see your face, couldn't read every single thought and emotion off of your like he seemed to so often be able to, let you breathe slightly easier. The arousal that simmered between your thighs was rolling into a boil as you pushed your rear out, back towards him, bending forward ever-so-slightly at the waist as you slowly, slowly rolled the increasingly restricting suit down over your buttocks.

You could swear you heard him sigh in the dark.

Shimmying until the entire garment hit the floor, pooling around your ankles in a faint cloud of dust, you stepped out of it as delicately as possible, sliding it beside your bag with your foot. As you straightened back to your full height, you decided to turn and face him, making eye contact as he took another hit from the inhaler, setting it aside as he leaned back fully into the chair. He tilted his head sideways at you, studying you for a few quiet seconds.

"Let your hair down." he said, voice strained with exhalation.

It took a moment to wrestle your hair down from the old elastic that kept it out of your face, but when the tendrils tickled down your back at last, it made you shiver, your body tingling.

The old man was silent for several seconds, looking you up and down with an expression that was tough to decipher. You'd almost begun to worry that he didn't like what he was seeing before one of his hands snaked down from the arm rest into his lap, palming at his crotch visibly. The other hand extended towards you, that deadly trigger finger crooking towards you commandingly, his gaze never leaving you.

"C'mere, kiddo."

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 2 - like a | art major ellie x dance major reader

first chapter | next chapter

ao3

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you

18+ MDNI | 3.7k words | tags; college au, pining, still sfw for now, texting, no use of y/n, not proofread

a/n: if you're not imagining the prof as nick offerman you're not doing it right.

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The song finally ends and all the other dancers in the studio scatter, just as breathless and exhausted as you are, leaving the room reeking with sweat and the remnants of unbridled passion.

You try to steady your breathing, leaning forward with a hand bracing your thigh, fanning yourself off by pulling at the collar of your tee. Today’s practice was more exerting than usual, especially since you were the one leading it. 

You might’ve showed off a little because you overheard some of your classmates undermining your talent; claiming they could do your own choreo better than you can. It wasn’t like what they said bothered you, however, you needed to set the record straight.  

You’ve always been an amazing dancer, you have the awards, the scholarships to prove it. You’ve scraped your knees bloody to get to this point in your life. You weren’t gonna let a few shit talkers ruin a great thing. So, yeah, you’re absolutely winded because you wanted to prove a point, but you don’t regret a second of it. The looks on their faces was enough to clear any doubts for the rest of the year, for sure.

You drag your feet over to your stuff huddled in a corner, dodging past everyone else in a rush to leave. You pick up your water flask, taking a much needed chug. Mid-drink, you hear the doors of the now empty studio swing open and you swivel around only to see Dina in her black leotard, clutching her bag on her shoulder as she jogs towards you with a suspiciously wide smile.

“Hey, D. You don’t look like you want anything at all.” You say sarcastically, scoffing as you set your bottle down. 

“Oh, come on! I can’t see my best friend?” Dina asks, resting her hands on her hips. All you can do is stare at her with an unmoving expression of doubt, folding your arms with a perked brow. 

“My best-est friend in the whole world. Ever.” Dina adds on. 

You don’t think Dina could make it any more obvious so you decided to wrap it up yourself. “Dina, what is it? I swear to god if you say Jesse…” 

The expression on Dina’s face pointed in every direction that it’d be about him. You groan, amazed that you’re having this conversation again. She’s been pestering you for weeks now about meeting this “amazing” guy she’s been recently dating. She insisted that he’d be like another gal pal, but obviously you doubted that. You’re sure he’s as great as Dina says, but you find it awkward to meet him like that anyways. 

“Just hear me out!” Dina practically begs, clasping her hands together and everything.

“Dina— I love you, but I don’t wanna be a third wheel for an hour.”

Her wide grin returns, looking oddly ecstatic to hear you bring that up. “Okay, well, what if I told you that you won’t?”

You already told yourself you made up your mind the minute this conversation started, but you gesture for her to continue anyway.

Dina’s face lights up as she goes on, “Jesse’s going to bring his friend too, then it’ll be the four of us!” 

You’re not sure how to feel, it does cancel out the one annoyance you had, but now it sounds like a straight double date. The thought alone makes you cringe a bit. 

Dina can tell, rolling her eyes before speaking, “His friend’s a girl, and she’s cool.” 

You just silently make out an ‘oh’ and Dina snorts at your expression. Well, now there’s nothing keeping you from going, but you don’t feel like letting Dina have this one that easily, so you intensely rub your chin as if there’s something else to be considered.

“I’ll buy you food! Cinnamon rolls!” Dina exclaims with a hint of desperation. You giggle and stop the act, finally giving Dina a smile and a nod. She’s already pulling you in for a sappy hug and you return it with an eye roll, making sure she doesn’t go too crazy now that she’s finally convinced you.

“So, when are we doing that?” You ask.

“Today. You're so sweaty, gross.”

“Rude— Today?!”

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After a nice shower and a trip to a small on-campus bakery, it was time to go meet Jesse and his friend with Dina. Just to make conversation, you tell Dina about your embarrassing encounter last night as you two walk around campus. 

“You mooned a stranger?! Listen, when I said you should hook up with someone while I was gone, I meant through a party or an app. Not the window!” Dina exclaims, not even attempting to hide the amusement in her voice. 

Honestly, you were amused by the situation too, it was hard not to be. “Shhh… I didn’t moon her, she just happened to be there. Plus, my ass was mostly covered.” You reply with a playful grin before biting into your promised cinnamon roll. You didn’t really have anything to be embarrassed about, either way it’s an emotion you deal with often. First of all, you’re a dancer; you’ve tripped during a routine before, danced a few humiliating moves. It’s a part of the process. Second of all, your ass is fucking great and we’re ending on that note. 

Dina tsks and shakes her head at you in pretend disappointment. Unable to take her seriously, you dissolve into laughter. 

You two walk across the courtyard and into the school commons; a tall and open building, with the walls of it being large windows. For the time of day, it wasn’t that busy. You decide to scope out the small crowd, and play a little game with yourself to see if you can find out who Dina’s man is before she tells you. 

Not him. Definitely not him. Maybe him? Nah. Who is that?

“Over there!” Dina taps your shoulder excitedly and points in the distance, but you were already looking that way. 

There was a girl, maybe an inch taller than you in a black, patch-covered varsity jacket that definitely didn’t fit her, facing a taller guy that looked exactly like Dina’s type. You weren’t positive why you were drawn that direction, all you knew was that there was something vaguely familiar about that girl. You tried to put the pieces together, but you gave up not even two thoughts later; shrugging it off. 

The guy looks towards you and Dina, smiling brightly as he beckons you two over. Dina links arms with you and drags you along before you can even acknowledge it. As you two start approaching, the mystery girl finally turns around and offers a small smile to Dina, only for it to drop the second she lays eyes on you. 

Your eyes lock on hers and you’re absolutely mortified. It was definitely that girl. Y’know, the one you saw through your window? That girl. Even if you didn’t see her all that well last night, the struck look on her face gave her away. This funny situation was getting less and less fucking funny as you and Dina stride closer. The panic starts to override your sensory abilities, the unusual feeling etching into your thoughts. Maybe you should just own it? Pretend you don’t remember? Should you run away? You think you should—

“— meet Jesse!” Dina says, looking at you expectantly. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice you stopped walking. Now the girl is way closer than she was last night. You could keel over and die now, really. 

It’s not like you’ll see her again. You wish you could turn back time and slap yourself for jinxing you like that. You glimpse up at her, and, fuck, she was looking back at you. You guys needed to stop doing that. Even worse, she’s just as hot as you were hoping she wasn’t. The hair, the outfit, the decorated carabiner hanging off the loop of her jeans? She’s a fucking lesbian wet dream. 

You whip your head away, and unbeknownst to you, she’s still staring; gawking, even.

For Ellie, ever since you walked up, all that’s been going through her head was, ’I wanna draw her’ over and over again. Seeing you up close was even better than she could’ve ever imagined. Your… everything was better than she imagined. She initially locked eyes on you when you were still passing the courtyard and she was in awe of that smile of yours. She was obsessed with how you laughed, how you threw your head back as you did. For a moment, she wondered what was funny. For a moment, she thought about what she’d give to hear it. She had to look away and face Jesse so her whole body didn’t turn red from just watching you. 

She only understood the gravity of the situation when you finally approached. What were the chances you were Dina’s friend? You were really in front of her now, an arm distance away. She has literally never been happier to go out before. She was genuinely glad Jesse dragged her out here for once. 

For as long as she could, she admired you; already color-matching the shade of your skin, your eyes. Appreciating the plumpness of your lips, how expertly your gloss spread across them. She wants to appreciate more of you, but from the way you looked away from her, she worries you might think she’s a pervert and honestly, you’d be well within your rights to think so.

Ellie catches her stare, dipping her attention onto her feet instead. You catch the sheepish action in the corner of your eye and it automatically tells you everything you need to know. If she hadn’t seen anything, she wouldn’t be acting like that, right? Let alone remember you. You wish you weren’t agonizing over this, catching these little traits was only making things worse. 

It’s painful; the situation. The whole thing didn’t even cross your mind until recently. You can’t make eye contact with anyone in front of you anymore, so you nervously say hello along with your name while looking out of one of the several windows. 

Dina forces a smile, since she already introduced you herself, giving you a quick ‘what the fuck’ look on her face before turning back to Jesse who still hasn’t caught a whiff of the tension. Your behavior was incomprehensible. You’ve never acted this way around new people. The whole reason Dina begged you to come was because you were so personable, so you can only imagine her confusion now.

Jesse and Dina exchange looks before Dina attempts to continue the convo. “So, Ellie, what’s your major again?” Ellie. Now the (extremely good-looking) face has a name, great.

“Uh, drawing. Art.” Ellie says, awkwardly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes darted everywhere but you. You were making it awkward, she was making it awkward, and all for different reasons. 

Dina nods along to Ellie before saying, “Oh, really? Didn’t think you guys left your rooms.” Dina teases, slow-turning to Jesse who already has a fist bump waiting for her. 

Ellie shakes her head with half a smile. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Yeah, I guess I needed some sunlight.” 

“Yeah, right. I had to bribe you out with a DC comic.” Jesse chirps in, his tone taking a dramatically repulsed turn. 

Ellie immediately punches him in the arm, “You haven’t even read the comics, asshole.” 

Jesse’s hand shoots up to soothe the spot as he laughs.

“Well… I think DC is better than Marvel if you ignore the movies.” You spit out and Jesse and Dina are immediately groaning at your comment. The only reason you said anything was because you felt inclined to take Ellie’s side since they were ganging up on her. Not to mention you might’ve traumatized her, so you might as well attempt to make buddy-buddy. You weren’t lying though, you read enough comics in middle school to know; even if your appearance and style might’ve indicated otherwise.

Ellie teeters at the side, not expecting you to speak at all, let alone take her side. She didn’t think she deserved to hear you speak more than she has already, but here you were, making her blush over a silly shared interest.

Ellie stuffs her hands into her jacket’s pockets, twisting her lips before gaining the courage to speak to you. “That’s because it is. They haven’t read Sandman yet.” 

“Oh, shit. Sandman was really good! Death was definitely my gay awakening now that I’m thinking about it.” You respond, glancing off as you dwell back on it.

Ellie definitely blacked out for a moment after hearing “gay” and “awakening” leave your mouth in the same sentence. Now there’s a part of her wondering if she has a chance with you.

She doesn’t say anything, she can’t say anything since she doesn’t trust her voice. You can’t tell if she’s super awkward or homophobic, but she doesn’t look like the latter. She just gulps loudly and you take note of… this whole interaction and store it in your brain for a later date, like a sleepless night.

With the sudden silence befalling, you both look over to see that Dina and Jesse are still passionately ranting and raving about how trash DC is, so passionately they look like they might kiss about it. Like, their faces are inches away from each other. You and Ellie are absolutely baffled at how this is even possible. They’re talking about superheroes. Superheroes! The sight makes you wanna hurl. You scowl and look elsewhere, catching Ellie grimacing in the process. 

Her brows are furrowed, lip upturned, and her nose is slightly scrunched up to the point where she kinda resembles a squirrel. You snort to yourself at the comparison. Okay, she’s adorable, so it took everything in you to contain your laughter. Obviously, you did a poor job since Jesse and Dina turn to your stifled giggling, following your eyes to see a plainly disgusted Ellie judging them. 

They get flustered, shyly laughing it off while Ellie pretends to scold them. “Welcome back. Now cut it out.”

Ellie turns to you with a surprisingly bewitching smile that catches you way off guard, and mouths out ‘gross’ while stealing a glance at the couple. 

“Pfft, I think it might be time to change topics.” You say, biting back the smile forming on your lips. Ellie is unintentionally endearing, you can tell because, well, she’s growing on you. Maybe you’ve been overthinking the whole thing? From the looks of it, she might’ve just needed to warm up to you. You like that conclusion much more than anything else. Anything else being a possibly unflattering angle of your ass cheeks.

Dina chuckles before nodding, “Okay, well,” Dina puts a hand on your shoulder and looks between Jesse and Ellie, “She’s a dance major too. The trendy kind.” 

“Trendy kind?” Ellie asks, focusing on you as she waits for an answer.

You roll your eyes at Dina for the silly description and fixate back on Ellie, finding yourself unusually nervous under her stare. “I’m focusing on commercial dance choreography. For singers, concerts, things like that.”

“She also did ballet for ages.” Dina chimes in. You nod reluctantly, since it was a long time ago, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still use those skills. 

“Oh, that explains it.” Ellie says, looking directly at you, clearly without a thought. She doesn’t mean anything bad by it, it just explains why she was weirdly infatuated with your back; your posture. Either way, that was supposed to stay in her head and not for you to hear.

You raise a brow, barely tilting your head to the side as you ask, “Explains what?”  

You hold your eye contact with Ellie this time, silently waiting for an answer. 

“Oh— err—“ Ellie stammers. She has no idea how to save herself. Even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d be able to say it when you’re looking at her like that. Looking up at her quizzically, slightly pouting out your full bottom lip. You’re a bit intimidating, you’ve always been a bit intimidating to everyone. However, Ellie finds herself oddly attracted at the same time and it’s really fucking with her brain. You aren’t even trying to be threatening though, you only want to know what she thinks of you. For no particular reason. 

Ellie, flustered beyond comprehension, can only shrug and manage out, “Uh, nothing? I guess, um, that’s how you two met?” 

You calm your expression, afraid Ellie might melt if you put any more heat on her and for the record, she would’ve, but not for what you think. You couldn’t read her at all and it made you wanna rip your hair out. 

You end up giving her a small nod while a trace of curiosity lingers on your face. 

Coincidentally, Ellie can’t read you either. Do you know she was the one “creeping” on you last night? If you don’t, then maybe all hope isn’t lost for her. But, of course, she can’t fucking tell. One second you’re looking at her like she’s a ghost, the next you’re giggling at all her jokes. But she’s not an idiot, she knows that as long as she doesn’t completely scare you off; she can complete her final. The only question from here is if she’ll ever gain the courage to ask you. 

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The answer to that is no. No, no, no. You’ve been integrated into Ellie’s life for weeks now. Although it hasn’t been daily you always show up at least twice a week, over three when she’s lucky. It’s been weeks and she still can’t ask you. 

In her defense, you guys are never alone. You haven’t even walked by Ellie since the dance wing and art wing are nowhere near each other. You’re always with Dina, she’s always with Jesse. All four of you occasionally meet up for lunch, or spot each other at student events and parties. Never just you and her. Ellie has tried to rehearse just asking you casually with Dina and Jesse around, but that sounds like a fuckin’ humiliation ritual. Imagining you saying “ew, no” or bringing up how she was ogling you through your window in front of them. 

It’s not like you’ve been giving her the impression that you would. It’s actually far from that. You’re a walking ray of sunshine. You always, and I mean, always say hi to her first. Ellie might be a little nuts, considering it’s only between her and Jesse, but she swears you do. Sometimes, you even avoid him to get to her first and she thinks it’s the cutest damn thing ever, but as far as she knows, that’s just her imagination playing a sick prank on her delusion.

Good news is that her work has improved since she still gets to see you often. She steals glances at you, taking mental pictures of you whenever she can. If someone told her to draw you eating a damn french fry, she’d be able to do it perfectly. 

Her professor leaves less marks on her work than usual, and with finals rapidly approaching, Ellie thinks this is the best she’ll ever be able to do. It’s way better than before and the chances of you modeling for her are slim to none, so she’s trying to convince herself she’s perfectly fine with wrapping it up here. Acting like it doesn’t eat away at her to not be able to draw your full body, all its perfections and imperfections. 

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You’re chatting with some friends as you gather your stuff up to leave, when your professor calls out your name. Your head shoots up in that direction and you quickly excuse yourself as you walk over to a scruffy looking older man shuffling around paperwork.

“Yes?” You stand neutrally at his desk, completely unaware of what he has to say to you. 

“You’re failing. Failing horrendously,” He shifts in his seat to look at you better, “You know you are human right? You labeled the rectus femoris the tibialis anterior for fuck’s sake.” 

The… what? You had absolutely no idea you were failing and no idea what he was saying. Yeah, you spent zero time studying, but it’s human anatomy. It’s just a stupid mandatory course. The classes with actual dancing are what you put your time and effort into. What type of asshole teaches a science course at an arts school, then fails the students? Whatever.

You bite your tongue before speaking, forcing a faint smile. “Oh, well, can I make up the grade…?”

The man pinches the bridge of his nose before pulling out your paper from the stack and in front of you. “You’re not understanding, out of 640 muscles in the human body you got one correct. The pectoralis major.”

Honestly, you have no words. Seeing the paper in front of you was pretty humbling. 

He laces his fingers as he continues to gruffly speak, “I don’t know if it’s because you’re gay or something and the only thing you can identify are boobs, but this is an easy grade. You had to get at least 200 correct to pass.”

Did he just? Your jaw dropped ages ago, and you start to say something but he immediately cuts you off. “I don’t wanna hear it, take your paper. Study, and I’ll let you retake it. Do not make me have to fail you.” 

You purse your lips, conflicted with how he called you out and how he’s giving you a redo. You just snatch the paper and storm out of the classroom. 

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dina: LMFAOOO

you: its not fucking funny

dina: is it becus ur gay or something

you: STFU!!!!

you: what do i do ffs

you: finals week is coming up soon and im stupid

dina: you shouldve taken the course with me last semester

you: help me study

dina: foh i barely passed 

you: 😭😭😭im so screwed 

dina: no ur not

dina: don’t worry

dina: ask ellie 

Ask Ellie? Your thumbs shake over your screen. How could you ask Ellie? The amount of strength it takes to talk to her in real life without turning into putty is insane. You guys don’t even cross paths enough for you to comfortably ask for a favor, but you really need to pass this class. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst to finally talk to her one on one... hang out with her more… see her more… Fuck it.

you: what’s her number?

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what's this? click!

tag list: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee

a/n: marvel solos but i think ellie would love dc

[megamindsecretlair]

Camp Wanderlust, Part 1

Pairing: Camp Counselor!Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, one use of n-word, kissing, mentions of female and male anatomy. FLUFF.

Summary: Welcome to Camp Wanderlust! We're so glad you're here! Inner city kids have been granted the opportunity to spend their summer here, getting introduced to a new world. You and Franklin are camp counselors who can't seem to stop ogling each other.

Word Count: 6,966k

Part 2

A/N: I have no clue where this idea came from but I couldn't stop thinking about college Franklin and how adorable he is! I miss him! So enjoy this new mini-series. I'm also zooted so all mistakes are on me. Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @nerdieforpedro @bratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii

The cool cotton shirt was already starting to stick to your skin. You fanned yourself, wondering if you had enough time to make it back to the cabin before the bus got here. You couldn’t find your scrunchie and your braids were starting to itch as sweat threaded around the parts. 

Girls stood to your left, guys stood to your right, all nervous and full of energy. Orientation started three days ago as everyone met each other, went over rules and regulations, and then had real fun later that night as flasks and mini bottles of booze were passed around. 

The owners of the camp were a silly white couple who just loved to help inner city kids. They stood off to the side from the group of counselors looking like concerned citizens complaining about a large group of Black folk for no reason. They were nice and all, but funny how their compassion only extended to the kids. Every counselor here came from colleges all around Southern California. Not one street kid.

You had never been to camp though and you had to admit, this was a nice way to show inner city kids that there was more to life than weed and going to jail. You switched your weight to your other hip, looking behind you for the hundredth time.

“You lookin’ for your boyfriend?” Dana, your bunk mate, nudged you with her elbow. She was a really pretty, dark-skinned woman with good hair. Her afro was fluffed out and shining in the morning sun. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. 

“Franklin,” she said, drawing his name out in a song. 

You giggled and shook your head, nervously looking around to make sure no one heard her. Despite what she kept insisting, you were not going to throw yourself at Franklin Saint. Your eyes sought him out but if you looked any longer, it would be too obvious. You snatched your eyes away from your right side and looked at Dana.

“No,” you said. “Not happening.” 

Once everyone found out that nearly everyone was single, the energy shifted in the room. People started eyeing each other in a new light. Now hookups were dancing through people’s eyes, eyes drooping below the chaste limit, seeking out the most pleasurable mate for your time at camp. 

Where else were you going to find people who got you? Certainly not at your respective schools where it felt criminal to be seen consorting with your fellow Negro. If two gathered in a space, it was a warning. If three or more joined, suddenly you were a gang and there were board meetings and secret handshakes banning that sort of thing.

No, here, you were surrounded by woods and a lake. Here the predominant color was as brown as the earth and just as beautiful. Here, anything could happen. So people began pairing off and gossiping. Laying claim on the curve of a hip or soft shoulders to lay on, or perhaps the way a smile made your insides flutter. 

Looking over the men, there were certainly some fine specimens. Some tall and broad, skinny and lanky, rounded and thick as molasses. But there was only one for you. He was so dreamy. 

His dark skin soaked up the sun. Such a cute, kind of shy smile. But his eyes were low and mischievous. Like he had a secret in them about you. He had worn blue jeans and a striped green shirt, the collars popped open.  

When your eyes landed on him, you were ready to drool and fall all over yourself. You had never felt that way about anyone. No one in your neighborhood, no one in your schools, and definitely no one at your college. 

And it seemed like he saw all of this float through your brain as he locked his eyes on you and smiled, dipping his chin a bit. You gave him a small smile, in shaking fear that he could see the lust on you,  and you turned away from him. 

You were not the only one to notice him. Snippets of their conversation had floated to you about the cute boy on the left. No, the far left. Girl, the one who look like my next boyfriend! 

You were not going to compete for no man. But your eyes floated to the other men, some who looked your way with genuine interest in your curvy body, and they just weren’t doing it for you. They didn’t set your palms sweating or chest heaving or pussy throbbing. Well, there were maybe one or two you wouldn’t mind entertaining the next four weeks. Let someone else have that man.

Except he had made his way to you. He had introduced himself, voice low and full of dark promises. He had made you laugh and roll your eyes, twist your hair, and find ways to touch him. You had talked all night, completely ignoring everyone else who pointed and gossiped and wondered about you two. 

A bus horn honked twice and you flinched as your thoughts snapped back to reality. You did not need flashbacks of that night, finding out everything you could about each other. Bus after bus pulled into the turnabout to offload a flood of preteens. They brought a jittery nervous air to the balmy June day that were directly at odds. 

Your eyes scanned the kids as they clutched their little sleeping bags, pillows, and backpacks too heavy for them. They weren’t quite that loud yet. The extroverts had already found each other, forming up groups and surpassing that line between the “popular kids” and the “weird” ones. You weren’t sure who was in your group yet, but you hoped they weren’t little shits. 

The owners of the camp, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman but you can call us Doug and Anne, erupted into excited giggles and clapped their hands. Some of the counselors began hiding smirks and smiles and giving each other the Look. 

“Welcome to Camp Wanderlust!” Anne yelled in the too quiet air. Nature hadn’t been encroached upon today and was taking its time waking up. The arrival of kids to run across the ground or play in its leaves were a new addition and nature needed a minute. 

Anne rushed forward and waved. “We are so excited that you’re here. How excited are you?” Anne continued. 

The popular kids cheered and threw their hands in the air while the shy ones stood there staring straight ahead like zombies. Maybe they just weren’t morning kids. Because you sure as shit wasn’t a morning person. 

Anne began to list off some welcome bullshit about learning and having fun and going swimming, supervised of course. About making lifelong friends because you could keep in touch with letters. Building bonds and telling some good stories while you’re at it.

She talked about how the cabins were divided. For their safety, girls and boys are in completely separate cabins and lights out at 10pm sharp. No one was allowed outside at night without a chaperone. They were free to go to the bathroom but it was straight back to bed. 

She told them the names of each cabin and the cabin badges were important to remember. Doug came forward with a clipboard and started to rabble off badges, cabin numbers, and their assigned counselors.

In unison, you all waved to the kids with bright smiles and held up mini signs you made yourself yesterday. It stated your name. Three guesses on who your partner was. Doug then rattled off names and numbers. Kids began to separate and walk toward you. 

A line of girls formed in front of you, bright eyed and cute in their little pigtails and afros and braids. Some looked so painfully shy, you vowed to make sure they felt included and had fun. You thrived in college but you were a shy girl just like them. It cropped up from time to time, but you felt more yourself now than you ever did as a kid. 

Doug finished and everyone had their group. The counselors began fanning out to gain some distance and introduce themselves without yelling over a nearby group. You stayed put, not wanting to walk unnecessarily in this heat. 

You had been lined up in numerical order, so Franklin was on the opposite end from you. He faced you and you swore you saw him smile at you before turning to his group of Cabin 5 boys. You turned to your own Cabin 5 girls and gave them your name, making them say theirs and their favorite color. 

You talked some more, trying to find areas of interest where they might all intersect. You doubted you could get total consensus, but it never truly hurt to be optimistic. You took your group of ten to the Raven badge house and let them decide how to pick beds. You weren’t going to help with that. You watched as they worked to decide which bed would be theirs. The assertive ones announced which ones they wanted and if no one objected, then that was fine. The shyer girls took their time trying to be polite and give up whichever one they wanted. The whole process was over pretty quickly and you were back outside, giving them a tour and dodging other groups. 

Your eyes immediately found Franklin coming out of the cabin next door. He moved between shadow and sun as he left the cover of the cabin. He lit up, that sun hitting him all over his gorgeous body. He wore khaki shorts and a blue shirt with Camp Wanderlust written across the back. You wore a similar shirt and let yourself picture being snuggled up with him. 

You shook your head and faced your group, leading them out and around Camp. You showed them the shower and bathrooms, mess hall, activity tunnel which was the bridge to the rest of the camp. You showed them the Traveler bridge which took them to the lake and boat house, and finally to Curiosity Hill which led to the woods. The hill was a long slope that led to the woods proper full of bugs and small animals. 

You looked at your watch, making good time. You faced your group and started answering questions so they could get to know you. They called you pretty and asked which school you went to, your favorite color, and the like. 

“I bet ya’ll hungry, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah!” They all said, loudly. You giggled and waved for them to follow you to the mess hall. Groups were following behind you, following the unspoken signal for lunch.  You made them line up, grab a tray, and move down the line.

You told them where to sit and told them to get to know one another. You grabbed your tray and went to sit at the counselor’s table.

Dana was already there digging into her tray all neat and polite. She smiled when you sat down and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were out of the hot ass sun, finally had some water, and could eat. Why did you agree to this again? 

“You know your boyfriend been checking you out all morning,” she said. 

“Shut up with that,” you said and began eating. 

“He has! Sharonda said he told Jason that you were fine as hell,” she said. 

“And how did Sharonda hear that?” You asked.

“Supposedly, Keisha and Jason are a thing which is a little funny because Jamika said the same thing. But Keisha and Sharonda are bunk mates,” she said. 

You shook your head. “Oh, you stay ear-hustling,” you said. 

“I like information. I don’t care how I get it,” she said.

“Okay, so then who you got around here?” You asked. 

“I’m still looking. They ain’t that fine compared to Mr. Saint,” Dana said.

“Ya’ll talkin’ about her boyfriend?” Jamika asked, coming up behind you. She dropped her tray onto the table and then scooted onto the bench.  “I swear them girls already getting on my nerves. They gave me the bad little mu’fuckas,” she complained. 

“Where are ya’ll getting this boyfriend from and why are ya’ll all in my business?” You asked.

“So there’s business to be had,” Jamika said and looked at Dana. “Told ya.”

Jamika sucked her teeth and sighed dramatically. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to Jamika. 

“Ya’ll betting?” You demanded. 

“I told her there was something between ya’ll. Ya’ll must’ve met before today or something because ya’ll literally can’t keep your eyes off of each other.” 

“I said that ya’ll ain’t even had an opportunity to do anything or spend time together,” Dana said.

“Ya’ll are so foul!” You could only shake your head at the two girls who instantly clicked with you. Both were similar to each other, favoring each other’s tone and speaking in nearly the same mannerisms. They had never met and yet bonded like sisters. Somehow you got scooped up between them and you were so grateful. 

“When he lookin’ that hard? There’s always something there,” Jamika said.

“What ya’ll betting on anyway?” You asked.

“We can’t tell you that. We can’t interfere,” Jamika said.

“Is everyone in on it?” You asked.

“Everybody but you,” Dana said, cackling loud and hi-fiving Jamika. 

You shook your head, looking over to your cabin kids. They were actually talking which was a good sign but a few were still too quiet. Jamika sighed loudly as she did the same. There were two girls fussing at each other.

“Ain’t you gonna help?” Dana asked.

“Uh-uh, I wanna see who wins,” Jamika said, a little smirk on her lips. 

On the opposite side of you, you felt a tug on your braid. You turned, ready to be mad when you saw Franklin’s wide grin and his pretty eyes. The heat died down in your chest as you sighed. 

“Boy, you was finna get hurt,” you said.

“I ain’t scared of you,” he said. He scooted onto the bench with you, making you scoot over since you were on the end. Dana and Jamika threw knowing glances at each other. 

“What are you doing, Franklin?” You asked.

“Came to see you. Ain’t had a chance all day,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, dabbing your lips with your napkin. Franklin straddled the bench, smiling at you. Just staring and smiling like he could do that all day long. It unnerved you when you looked at each other like this. But you watched him right back.

“Why are you really here?” You asked.

“We’re sitting next to each other at the bonfire right?” He asked.

“You pulled my hair just to ask me that?” You meant to sound playful and teasing, but your voice was quieter than that. Filled with some other emotion like expecting a different answer. As if hair-pulling was acceptable in a different context.

He seemed to see your thoughts and he smiled.  “Just say I get to sit next to you,” he said. He leaned over and took one of your chips. You popped his hand and he yelped, rubbing his hand.

“I don’t play about my food,” you said. He laughed and shook his head, diving in for another one. You tried to pop his hand again but he kept moving it just before contact. 

He gave you another panty-melting smile. “You are so pretty, did you know?” Franklin asked.

You rolled your eyes. He got on your nerves already and you had only known him four days. “I can’t control where you sit, but I wouldn’t mind it next to me,” you said.

Franklin knocked on the bench with a wide grin. He turned to Dana and Jamika. “Ladies,” he said.

He stood up and walked back to his table where the guys whooped and hollered from where they were sitting. You had a flashback to middle school, the same age as these kids, and you felt sick. You hated when so much attention was on you and now all of the counselors were gossiping about your so-called relationship with Franklin. 

“Fuck, where do I get one of him?” Jamika asked. 

“Right, like where his brother at?” Dana echoed. You all watched Franklin’s retreat and him talking to his buddies. 

The rest of lunch was uneventful as you spoke about your groups and how you hoped the first activity went well. You cleaned up after yourselves and began to lead your groups out of the mess hall and across the land towards the activity side. There was an obstacle course set up with things to make these kids stretch their legs and build some friendships.

You walked alongside Franklin and he nudged you with his elbow. You nudged him back. You had family, you were no pushover. You lightly pushed each other all the way down to the course. You were not setting a good example for the kids.

At the course, Anne and Doug greeted everyone and told everyone about the course. She announced prizes at the end of each activity and at the month to the team with the highest scores. Anne and Doug would score the kids with input from their counselors. So it was all about playing fair and working with each other to win. 

One of the counselors, Jason, showed how hard it was to get through the course alone. He was playacting for the kids. Jason was as tall as a tree with rich ebony skin and thick muscles. Basketball guy definitely. He was built for speed and agility but he struggled. 

He returned to his group and Doug and Anne stated that they went in cabin order. Being last in line, you told the girls that they’d have a chance to search for weaknesses. They loved that idea and got a lot more interested in the rules. First, the cabin mates would introduce themselves to each other.

The girls turned completely shy, backing away from the boys. The boys returned in kind, eyeing each other with slightly nauseous faces. 

“Come on guys, what do you say?” Franklin encouraged. 

Reluctantly, a boy stepped forward and held out his hand. One of your girls did the same and they introduced themselves. You looked at Franklin. “Did you teach them that?” You asked.

“They were nervous about being here. I gave them some tips,” he said. He slanted his eyes towards you with a smirk. 

You watched as the kids opened up and started talking. Anne and Doug got the course going with kids going through it and working off the food they ate. When everyone was done, prizes were handed out. That earned them a few hours to relax in the rec room. The counselors were free to rotate shifts and watch the kids. 

It wasn’t your shift yet so you went to hang out with Dana and Jamika back in the cabins. The heat was killing you and you needed to cool off somewhere. You immediately searched for a scrunchie to get the fresh braids off of your neck.

“So we just not gon’ talk about Franklin asking our girl out?” Jamika asked. 

You laughed with your friends up to the cabin while you dodged their questions about you and Franklin. Nerves bubbled in your gut thinking about the boy with the cute smile. You couldn’t describe this feeling between you but you knew that you wanted to explore it. If only you could do it in peace.

You stared up at the stars as you sat on your log. Anne and Doug were really going all out for the experience. These kids were in for a better treat than you ever got. You didn’t have fancy white people paying for your camp stay so they could pat themselves on the back. Selective performism wasn’t around when you were growing up. 

The stars twinkled overhead, spattering the sky with little dots of light. There were more stars than you had ever seen in your life. Too much pollution where you lived and went to school. 

You sat around the campfire with half of the larger group. Anne was with your group, asking the kids about what they thought of the camp so far. Some were excited and they went around in a circle saying what they liked about it. 

You were among the first to get there. By the time Cabin 5 boys made it down, Cabin 2’s counselor was already sitting next to you. 

“No!” Franklin said when he approached. “Aye, switch places with me,” he asked.

The girl, Michella, rolled her eyes and stood up with a smirk. She hi-fived her counterpart. He smirked at the two of you. Ugh. This was so fucking childish. 

Anne missed all of it as she focused on getting her free feedback. Franklin was overwhelming. He wasn’t a big man, but he felt big. He felt larger than anyone else there. He leaned over with his elbows on his knees and listened to every kid speaking.

Every now and then, your knee would brush his. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose but it only made you ache and shiver. When he stretched, you couldn’t help ogling him. Those skinny but powerful arms. The groans he made when he went a little too far. 

You licked your lips and hung your head. It wasn’t normal to be this attracted to someone, right? You wanted to snuggle into him and never leave. He could be annoying, but there were times where he seemed to be undressing you with his eyes. 

While Anne was distracted, Franklin turned his eyes to you. “Meet me later?” He asked. 

“Where? Lights out at 11 or didn’t you hear?” You asked.

“Break the rules with me, c’mon. They know we gon’ break ‘em,” he said.

You shook your head, fighting down little deranged bubbles of laughter. He wasn’t being intentionally funny, but you weren’t used to such persistence. You had your fair share of men interested in you. But it was hard trying to find worthy Black men among the sea of white people. 

“I wanna see you, alone,” he said. 

You tuned back into Anne who was giving some background on the camp and why it was named Camp Wanderlust. 

“You know everyone is talkin’ about us and taking bets,” you said.

“So? I’m trynna bet on us too,” he said. 

You shook your head. “I’ll think about it,” you said. You weren’t a goody-two-shoes but you were just as excited as the kids at being here at camp. Your mother never wanted you to go, hiding behind excuses like she thought you would be boy crazy after. Which was ridiculous. You were already married to Marcus Murray. You just knew he was going to be your husband forever. Until he moved away in second grade and you never heard from him again. You didn’t want anything to jeopardize you being here. Not even for the likes of Franklin Saint.

He smiled at you and turned to Anne.

“Of course, that’s nothing compared to…” Anne looked around her dramatically. “No, I can’t say his name. Anyone who says it gets taken in the night!” 

You shared the Look with Michella and shook your head. You didn’t know who Anne thought she was fooling with this routine, but you supposed that it wouldn’t be a proper bonfire without scary stories. 

You stood up with Franklin and went over to the cooler. You opened it, grabbing bags of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Franklin helped you, somehow managing to reach across you for everything. His arm grazed your tummy and you sighed. You tilted your head at him.

“Will you stop?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, innocent as a button. You were not fooled. He smiled at you, tilting his head back in response.

“You keep…you know,” you said.

“Tell me,” he said and stepped closer to you. 

“Oh, you get on my nerves,” you said. You smiled at him.

“Meet me at Traveler,” he said.

You shook your head as you brought back the supplies towards the group. You began passing the bags around, picking up sticks that you had collected earlier. Anne continued her tale of the leader of the lost kids. 

You were pretty sure she was talking about an evil Peter Pan but the kids didn’t seem to mind. Some were really engrossed in the story, looking over their shoulders towards the pitch black night. 

She spun the tale of kids who got lost wandering in the dark by themselves. Snatching up anyone who calls them by name. She wasn’t going to say it for their safety. They absolutely must not go looking for his name on the plank where people had been signing their names for years. One signature is not like the rest and they must never seek it out. 

The kids promised but you already saw some sneaky faces. Faces that screamed trouble. You fought a smile. 

You took turns, trying to keep up the legend of this mysterious leader. No one knew who it was, it could be anyone out there. They could be right over someone’s shoulder and you wouldn’t know. 

A few girls squealed. The boys were trying to seem cool, but you saw their eyes darting around as well. You munched on smores as tales were told and laughs were shared. The entire time, you were in sync with Franklin. If he moved, you moved. If he shifted, you did so as well. It was maddening. 

The kids were dismissed to their cabins to unwind for an hour before bed. You walked your cabin back, Franklin walking beside you. He asked you about what you were studying. You told him your favorite subject and your face practically lit up talking about it. 

You asked him what he was into. He said business. “Business! Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I got a mind for numbers. I can do something with that,” he said.

You really needed to get control of your dirty mind. When he said that, your mind instantly went to his lips. The moon poked through the trees and you were able to see him glow faintly silver. You licked your own, wondering what his lips would taste like. What his hands would feel like on you. 

You dragged your gaze ahead of you. The overhead camp lights shone a giant spotlight on you and your group. You walked to each respective bunk and bid farewell to the kids. You crossed paths with Franklin once more as you walked to the counselor cabin. 

Franklin’s hand brushed against yours. Your fingers tingled. As if it could already feel his hands tangling with yours. “Tonight?” Franklin asked. 

“I’ll think about it!” You said and shook your head.

“You’re breaking my heart,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. You went to your cabin, flopping onto your bed with a soft sigh. You brought the pillow to your face and squealed, questioning the butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t a teenager but, fuck, you felt like you were back in high school. Possibly earlier. Back to middle school where you couldn’t stop thinking about Chris Johnson and how sweet he was. 

“Ugh, ya’ll need to go on and make it official. I need to win some real money around here,” Dana said. She emerged from the closet on her side. 

These cabins were much smaller, big enough for two people and set up like a dorm room. You didn’t have that much money for school, it all went to books and classes. You weren’t able to stay on campus and you took the bus to and from the bastard. 

“Stop,” you groaned.

“I don’t know why you leavin’ that man hanging like that,” she said. She was already dressed in her pj’s: sweats and a tank top. Your pjs were similar but you still weren’t sure if you were going to meet Franklin later or not. 

It made you delirious to think about it. Sneaking off in the night. Wings took flight in your stomach. You flipped onto your back and placed your hands against your tummy. You had to see what he wanted, right? 

It wasn’t to talk. You knew that much. He could be a gentleman all he wanted, but you weren’t that oblivious. You saw the way he looked at you or the way he found little ways to bother you. It was so childish but it grew on you as you formed an instant connection. 

“I’m not trying to,” you told Dana. 

“Look, we only here for four weeks. May as well have some fun and have something to tell your future grandkids,” she said.

You laughed and leaned onto your elbow to face her. “Why would I tell my grandkids I had something with some random boy at camp?” 

“Because grandmas are always talkin’ out the side of they neck. I wanna be like my Grandma Sadie. She told us all kinds of things when my parents weren’t around,” she said.

“That’s why you’re so wholesome now,” you told her. 

You talked and joked while Dana spread the latest camp gossip. You weren’t the only subject of people’s comments. People were already finding themselves tangled up with each other. Try as you might, you couldn’t get Jamika to see what a fuck nigga Jason was. She lost her collective marbles with him. 

As it got later, your nerves got the best of you. You were hovering outside of the door, peeking out to see the distant house where Anne and Doug went to bed. There were still lights on in the house. Across from the house, there were similar bunks with the camp staff. Kitchen, groundskeeper, the like. Other volunteers who agreed to help watch the kids. 

Your foot tapped against the wooden floor, your Converse beating a steady rhythm. Dana had explicitly told you to go while she drifted off to sleep. You took a deep breath and left the cabin. Your curiosity was going to eat you alive.

You scurried across the open courtyard heading toward Traveler bridge. The bridge itself crossed a small creek on a curve. You stopped at the entrance, under the light. You waited there, the chilly night and insects chirping making the woods seem creepier. Like Jason was going to pop out at any moment and go on a murdering spree. You should have brought a jacket. You rubbed your bare arms, feet shifting back and forth as you looked around you for any sign of Franklin. He wouldn’t tell you to meet him and then just not show up right?

“Hey, it’s Franklin,” Franklin whispered, making enough noise to let you hear him approach. You turned to face him, smiling softly at him.

“I’m glad you came. Took forever for my bunk mate to fall asleep,” he said. 

He held out his hand and you took it, going over the bridge with him. There was a stretch of woods here, the trees loomed over you. Gnarled branches twisted and arched overhead, blocking out bits of the artificial light. 

You reached the edge of the woods, where the trees broke up and allowed for a wider entrance towards the lake and the water supplies and equipment. Franklin stopped you from heading towards the dock.

He paused while the moon hit you two perfectly. You saw his face and how nervous he seemed. Franklin? Nervous? 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

“You’re pretty cute too,” you said with a smile. He moved his hands to your hips, fingers sliding down your sides to loop his fingers through your belt loops. He pushed you backwards until your back gently hit a tree wide enough to accommodate you. 

Franklin stared into your eyes. “I ain’t the only one feeling this, am I?” He asked. 

He threaded his hand through your left one, watching as the pale light played over your combined hands. You swore your hand was electric from touching him. Little zips of energy flowed between you. Your body was learning him. Learning how he moved and spoke, resonated with his energy to match. 

“No. Is it crazy?” You asked.

“Absolutely crazy. I like talkin’ to you,” he said. 

He leaned down but didn’t kiss you. His lips hovered just there, just out of reach. He was so tall and broad, your hands came around his shoulders. You couldn’t stop grasping him. Your body heated up from the inside out. Your mouth dried feeling him beneath your fingers. 

He let you explore his body. You were too shy to go further, to truly explore him. His hands stayed respectfully on your hips. 

“I want to know everything,” he said. 

You giggled. “We’d be here all night,” you said.

“Shit, I can lose some sleep,” he said.

You shook your head. “Are we going down to the dock or not?” You had did this yesterday too. Sneaking out while everyone was supposed to be sleep. You were sure that other couples were doing the same thing. Finding hidden spots that no one would stumble across at this time of night. 

“I just wanted to look at you,” he said. He smiled and you couldn’t help smiling back. He didn’t even have to say anything and he had your lips curling, your tongue sliding across your teeth, and your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. 

You were lost in the world of Franklin and you didn’t mind. You would gladly stay in his orbit if he kept looking at you like that. Like he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side, listening to you speak. 

He finally moved away, allowing oxygen to flow to your brain once more. You shook off his subtle clean scent. He tugged you by the hand towards the dock. Your shoes clanged against the loose boards. It was a wonder the damn thing didn’t collapse by now.

Franklin let you sit down first. You took off your shoes and socks, dangling them over the dock. The water was a little out of reach. Only your toes graced the surface of the icy water. Franklin joined you, taking off his own shoes and socks. He sat back a little, his legs a bit longer than yours. 

He sat close, close enough for you to feel every rise and fall of his chest. His shoulders grazed against yours and you had to sit on your hands to keep from reaching out and touching him like you owned him. 

You spent an hour or so there, talking and learning about his aunt and uncle. His momma working for a piece of shit real estate agent. How he wanted to find a good paying job where his mom could retire and he could take care of her.

You didn’t bother asking about his dad. From the way he spoke about his mom, it was clear he wasn’t in the picture. You told him about your family, your schoolwork, and how hard it was to always be on stage while at school.

You bonded about how students and teachers alike didn’t know what to make of you. They didn’t know what kind of Negro you were. The loud type? The ignorant type? The quiet, good ones that they were comfortable reaching for your hair or asking intrusive questions? It felt good to bond with someone over these things.

Franklin was able to stay on campus but he hardly spent time in his rooms. He could be found in the library somewhere, doing his work like a true little nerd.

“You won’t hold it against me, will you?” He asked. 

He sounded so adorable when he asked you that you shook your head. You leaned back, resting on your hands, as you looked at the stars above you. They were breathtaking. The air was clearer. You wished you could afford this much land. That you could have a place to yourself where no one else was allowed. 

A private lake where you could do anything you wanted. You could swim naked for all you wanted and no one would be around to stop you. Perhaps not such a big land though. You wouldn’t know what to do if a psycho killer came crashing out of the woods. 

“Nah, you good,” you said. He matched your stance, looking skyward. He then turned his head. You turned to look at him as well, not realizing just how close you were. His eyes dipped towards your lips. 

You licked them absently and his eyes tracked the movement. You found yourself leaning forward, closing the distance towards those lips of his. They looked so big and juicy and were probably warm. 

He rested his head against yours, smiling against your lips. “Let me kiss you,” he said.

It wasn’t a question but you smiled and nodded. He crossed that final distance, that tiny gap keeping you apart, He sighed against your lips. His big, warm hand reached up to cup your neck. 

His fingers feathered across your pulse points. You felt your heartbeat there, beating wildly against his fingers. His lips were even more heavenly. His other hand cupped the other side of your neck. His long fingers slid through your braids.

You were lightheaded. Dizzy with pleasure as your lips tingled against his. Shivers ran down your spine. Your hands rested on his forearms, holding onto each other as you gave in to this thing between you. This all consuming thing that made you push forward, press against him, trying to get closer than what you already were. 

Your harsh breaths seemed to echo in the still night. The sounds of the woods were muted here, lending itself to a type of quiet that you never experienced. There was always a plane or helicopter overhead. Some type of siren or dog barking. 

It was hard as hell to go to sleep in a place so quiet. It was eerie. You kept expecting to hear a gunshot disguised as a firework. Here, there were just your loud and racing thoughts picturing this exact moment. 

Franklin’s tongue danced with yours. Sweeping across your lips and diving back into your mouth to taste more of you. His breath was faintly minty. Even after dinner and the smores. 

Your pussy throbbed. Beating in time with your wild heartbeat. You felt him everywhere. All over your skin. Every kiss had an answering call in your tummy. Every squeeze around your neck you felt down to your toes. 

You reluctantly drew away at the same time, panting and turning drunk eyes on each other. “I’ve been dreamin’ about that,” he said. His head rested against your once more. You huffed, breathing each other in. 

“Same here. I felt like that should've helped dull this,” you said.

After your taste, you wanted more. You wanted to keep going. You wanted him to lay you down and unzip your shorts. Or makeout with you while his hands explored under your shirt. To rub your aching nipples that were straining beneath your bra for any type of stimulation. 

“Ain’t gon’ happen,” he said. He pecked your lips. But a quick peck turned into two and then three until you were moving into his lap. You straddled him and kissed under the stars. It was just you and him.

Him gripping your thighs and squeezing them for dear life. You running your hands around his back. Your lips crashing against each other over and over, like waves crashing against a shore. You felt weightless in his arms. He hadn’t looked all that sturdy under that skinny frame, but he handled you with ease.

He squeezed your ass and you groaned, couldn’t help yourself from grinding on his crotch. He was thick, warm, and solid under you. He was pressing against your core but there wasn’t enough friction. 

You found a natural break again, opening your eyes to look at him and smile. It still was nowhere near enough but it would have to be. You had already been out too late. You were going to be so tired in the morning.

“We should get back,” he whispered. 

You licked your swollen lips and nodded. Fuck, you wanted to keep going. Wanted to know how far he would push you. 

“Will you meet me tomorrow too?” He asked.

You bit your lip but nodded. “I’ll meet you tomorrow, too,” you said. The other counselors be damned. It wasn’t like they weren’t around, confessing their own feelings. Or already hooking up. Clothes flying in the heat of the moment. 

“Let me walk you to your cabin,” he said.

His hands slowly slid from your hips to your sides to help you maneuver off of him. You stood and he stood up after, taking your hand and walking with you back to your cabin. His cabin was further down and you thanked him for the sweet gesture.

He tapped his cheek for a kiss. Your cheeks hurt from trying to hide another smile. He got on your damn nerves. You pecked his cheek, your lips lingering for a fraction too long. “Good night, Franklin,” you said. 

“Good night,” he said. Your name fell from his lips softly, sacredly. 

You gave a small wave and went inside, closing the door and resting your back against it. You were still so lightheaded. Drunk on his kisses and needing more. Dana was still fast asleep so you changed and slipped into bed as quiet as you could. 

You didn’t know how you were going to sleep tonight but you hoped that Franklin would dream of you too.

There's always more Franklin to explore: The Secret Franklin Saint Files | Part 2

[wzrd-wheezes]

okie but like situationship with sirius black where they just come out of fucking and then go back to the party, but this time, the usually detached sirius is just like all over her even after, making sure she's okay, getting jealous of other guys talking to her, and then at the end, he self-evaluates and then just goes : *jesus fuck i'm in love.*

(totally cool if u don't wanna do it)

Get to the point - Sirius Black x Reader.

AN - I wasn't originally intending on writing this as smut but I couldn't resist it. I hope that you enjoy anyway. Thank you so much for requesting <3

Warnings: smut. nothing too intense really.

1.7k words.

It started the same way as it always did. Throughout the evening, they navigated with practiced avoidance, each sticking to their own circle of friends as if the other were invisible. Then, as the night wore on, and they had both had too much to drink too quickly one of them would catch the other staring at them. Sirius, often the instigator, would watch her from across the room with such intensity that she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head. When she would eventually give in and meet his gaze, he would shoot a knowing wink at her and jerk his head towards the door. Tonight was no different, 

Y/N was sat nestled between two of her friends, both of them nattering away to god-knows-who. She absently swilled the remnants of her drink around in her cup before tipping it back and draining the last dregs of it. Over the top of her cup, she finally allowed herself to look at him, breaking her self-imposed rule of avoiding his gaze too often. She had been careful not to let it linger too long and give him the satisfaction of catching her staring. 

Sirius always looked good, but tonight, she couldn’t deny that he looked better than usual. Although, she suspected that that could have been the alcohol talking. The dimly lit room only seemed to enhance his sharp features – the curve of his lips, the angle of his jaw. His hair fell effortlessly over his eyes as he tipped his head down to light a cigarette. Caught in the act of watching him, she noticed the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Without hesitation, he strode over, cigarette dangling from his lips and a self-assured grin on his face. 

“This must be a new record, eh?” he grinned, settling himself on the sofa beside her. She hadn’t even noticed her friends slipping away, too captivated by him. “Party’s barely started and you’re already giving me the eyes from across the room.” 

“Hardly.” she countered, staring down into her cup as if she was willing it to magically refill itself, “Trust me, you’re not that interesting to look at, Black.” 

He was, and they both knew it. With a knowing smile, he just rolled his eyes and took a drag on his cigarette. 

“Want a refill?” he offered, reaching into the inner pocket of his leather jacker and producing a hip flask. She accepted it immediately. It was so stereotypically Sirius – silver and ornate, his initials engraved on the front. 

“Cheers.” she unscrewed the top and tipped the contents of it into her cup.  

“Just polish it off, why don’t you?” he laughed. 

“I need it if you’re going to sit here and pester me,” she remarked dryly, “it makes you tolerable.”  

“Oh, how you wound me.” Sirius sighed dramatically, his hand clutching his chest theatrically, “We both know you’ve been waiting for me to come over, darling.”  

“Waiting, dreading - same thing really.” she sipped her drink. Whatever it was Sirius had in that flask burned as it went down, warming her chest up. 

“You look good tonight.” Sirius ignored her comment, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer towards him, “Always look so pretty for me, don’t you?” 

“Oh, please.” she chuckled softly, shifting slightly in his embrace, “Don’t let that ego of yours grow any bigger. It’s already suffocating.  

Sirius, undeterred by her comment, persisted, gently brushing her hair away from her ear and leaning in close. His warm breath tickled her skin, her breath caught in her throat as she felt his lips graze her earlobe. 

“Shall we keep playing this game or shall we get to the point?” he whispered, softly kissing her neck. 

"You’re insufferable, you know that?” she sighed, but she couldn’t deny the smile that crept on her lips. Once again, draining the contents of her cup, she rose to her feet.  

“Eager, are we?” Sirius teased, taking her hand in his and dragging her through the crowds of people.  

After stumbling into multiple bedrooms that were already occupied by other couples in various stages of undress, they eventually ended up in the bathroom. Sirius swiftly locked the door behind them, leaning against it as he looked Y/N up and down. 

“Funny. You don’t usually go to great measures to make sure we don’t get disturbed.” Y/N mused. 

Sirius just shrugged, crossing the room until he was standing in front of her. His hands quickly found her waist and he backed her up against the counter, lifting her up until she was comfortably perched on the edge. Roughly, Sirius pushed her legs apart, creating a gap for him to stand in. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling her towards him. He let out a groan as he let his lips collide with hers for the first time that night.  

“Been thinking about doing this all night.” he grumbled, his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. Y/N just smiled, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down on in gently.  

Sirius’s fingers fumbled with her trousers, shifting them down her legs until the pooled in a pile on the floor. He dropped down to his knees, his fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as he kissed his way up towards her core. For a moment, he hovered over her underwear, leaving her waiting in anticipation for a second before sliding them off and slipping them into the back pocket of his jeans. He ate her out like a man starved, head buried between her thighs as he lapped at her desperately. Y/N’s head tipped back to rest against the mirror behind her, her eyes screwing up in pleasure as Sirius slipped one, then two fingers inside of her. He loved watching her reactions, it stroked his ego somewhat, seeing how good he made her feel, how easy it was to make her fall apart. She gasped when he pressed his fingers upwards, sucking softly on her clit as he did so. 

“There’s those pretty noises I like,” he murmured, pulling back to look at her. His chin was glistening with her wetness, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand as he stood up, “Always get so wet for me, don’t you?” 

Y/N only nodded, watching him as he expertly undid his belt with one hand, the other still planted firmly between her legs. Sirius took his cock out, stroking it for a few seconds while he let his eyes roam over Y/N’s face. 

“Please, Sirius.” she whispered, biting down on her bottom lip. 

More than happy to oblige, Sirius resumed his previous position standing between her legs. Deciding to tease her for a few moments more, he slowly ran the head of his cock up and down her folds. With one quick movement, he pushed inside her, groaning lowly as she wrapped around him. He quickly found his rhythm, they had done this so many times before that he knew exactly how to make her come undone for him. 

Y/N’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him forwards so that his forehead was resting against her own. She kissed him deeply as he fucked her, Sirius took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth when she let out a particularly loud moan. Their teeth clashed together as Sirius’s thrusts got more and more rough. The room was filled with the sound of his hips snapping against hers as they both chased their highs.  

Sensing that she was getting closed, Sirius slipped out of her, barely giving her time to protest and he pulled her to her feet. He spun her around, lifting one of her legs up on the counter to give him some leverage. As he entered her again, he pulled her hair, adjusting her gaze so that she was looking at him through the mirror.  

“Want you to look at me when you cum, pretty girl.” he grunted, “You can do that for me, yeah?” 

Y/N nodded, her moans getting louder as Sirius’s thrusts got more and more erratic. He kissed her neck as he fucked her, using her hair to pull her back so that her back arched against him. They came almost simultaneously, Sirius collapsing against her back as he emptied himself inside of her. 

“Fucking hell, you’re hot.” Y/N grinned, slipping back into her trousers.  

“Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself.”  

Y/N slipped out of the bathroom and back into the party, deciding it was time to try and find her friends before they started wondering where she had got to. Usually, after they fucked, they would both go their separate ways, ignoring each other again just as they did before. She made her way into the kitchen, quickly fixing herself a drink before blending back in with the crowds of people.  

Sirius waited a few moments after Y/N left and then made his way back downstairs. For some reason, the only thing he could think about was her. He shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of thoughts.  

Back in the living room, his eyes scanned over the amount of people in the room, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. At least, that’s what he was telling himself. Eventually, his eyes fell upon Y/N, just as they had earlier. She was perched on the counter in the kitchen, bottle of beer in hand. He couldn’t quite see who she was with, but decided to make his way over to her.  

He stopped suddenly in the doorway when he saw a boy standing just to the side of her. She was laughing at something that he said and he had a hand resting on her thigh. Sirius’s jaw tightened and he quickly turned around trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.  

Deciding that it was best to distance himself, he took himself outside where there weren’t as many people. He reached into his pocket and fished out his pack of cigarettes, quickly lighting one. He took a drag and sighed, staring up at the stars. 

“Well done, Sirius.” he said to himself, “You’ve only gone and fallen for her.” 

[lamaery]

18 - liquid

Wax getting another fill of steel laced whiskey and Wayne trying some liquid that certainly wasn’t ordered by him. image description blows the cut:

digital drawing of Wax and Wayne in a big room, made with scratchy dark brown lines and soft warm and cool browns and grays for the shading. Wax stands straight and tips his head bag to drink from a hip flask, gun ready in his right hand, while he glares into the direction of the viewer with the visible eye. Wayne is seated in front of him, casually lounging on some wooden boxes. He hold a metal tankard in one hand and sucks some of its content from the index finger of the other hand. One of his dueling canes hangs from his lower arm, the handle of its twin can be made out at his hip away from the viewer side. On a barrel next to him stands a similar tankard. In the back the room looks vaguely chaotic and disorderly. There is a row of windows to the right, but their bars seem out of shape and some of the glass panes might be shattered. A tipped table lies on the floor to the left, a half-detached chandelier dangling above it.

[goober1475]

An Odyssey in Time (pt.1)

On a boiling night in late June I woke up in a cold sweat and sporting a parched throat. Water, I needed some water. Reaching for the metal flask I swore in frustration when I found it empty. I would have to get up at...01:03 A.M. in the morning...in the dark, to get water. Great.

Sauntering into the kitchen with a sleepy look on my face, I moved to turn on the countertop lights. Flickering, buzzing and then growing silent, a warm glow which barely shed light on a quarter of the room illuminated my face. A gaunt pale visage stared back at me from my window. After surveying my appearance for a moment, I moved to the fridge.

Knowing the heat I wouldn't be able to sleep for a while, so I searched for a snack like a blind mole. Focaccia and hummus would do.

After refilling my bottle and taking a sip I cringed in disgust.Although fresh, the water tasted rancid. Even my dehydrated organs churned in discomfort. I had consistently forgotten to wash my water bottle, causing the contents itself to go bad. Screwing my face up in displeasure, I poured the water out and let the bottle soak in some soapy water for a while.

I busied my hands while waiting by refilling the water filter, watching the liquid slowly drip into the second compartment.

Leaning back on the counter, I barely registered the pain digging into my hip caused by a corner of the work top. Staring at the water dripping and focusing on the gentle hum of the lights, I closed my eyes in thought.

Exams for the year were finished, projects complete, extracurriculars over and all but one of my papers for the year published.

For some unexplainable reason it still felt like I hadn't done enough. I had started slacking with my art, was that it? It didn't feel like it. Oh well. It was only the end of my first year in University and considering everyone else I had done rather well.

There was a sinfully pleasurable feeling to learning. It was as if I was Eve accepting the apple of knowledge from Lucifer. His deceptive promises and great praises luring me further and further away from others. The act of displaying my prowess in a multitude of areas felt better than any alcohol. The congratulations I received from my professors after winning an academic prize or reading my own work in a journal could be beaten by no high. I was sure of this. The water had stopped dripping from the filter's first compartment.

Slowly walking back to my room, I precariously balanced my snack and water bottle with one hand an opened my bedroom door with the other. I stumbled over my latest paper strewn over the floor. I hoped to have it published in a medieval journal but was yet to proofread.

Might as well reread it now.

I gathered the papers together and sidled over to my already cramped desk. A half finished set of watercolours, stacks of paper and a few piles of books were neatly stacked in any available spaces. Settling down into my chair, I started to work through the essay.

It was on King Baldwin IV and his ruling of Jerusalem, discussing whether or not his rule was successful or not.

It was 02:00 A.M. by the time I had finished reading and I fell back onto my bed exhausted. I stayed on top of the covers and basked in the momentary cool breeze coming from my window as I drifted off.

Dreams of crusades and beautiful walled cities dominated my dreams. I was a knight and was travelling to Jerusalem on a dirt road. A great battle was to take place and I had been called to fight.

Sword secured at my hip, I quietly surveyed the landscape. A warm blue sky inhabited by a swelteringly hot sun which burned the back of my exposed neck contained not a cloud. Great hills as barren as the sky above loomed over me. The only manmade object was a sign pointing my way. My horse trudged on and I gave her a pat in sympathy. she snorted unimpressed.

The great city finally came into view, its presence seemed to swallow up the previously intimidating land in its shadow. it truly looked like the seat of God.

I woke up before reaching the gates but had gotten close enough to catch sight of a figure swathed in pure whites robes watching me from the battlements. Just as I bowed my head in respect to the person who looked too holy to be human, the edges of my vision blurred. A bright sun creeped in through my eyelids as I creased my brow in frustration.

[ross-hollander]

Low-stakes objectives...

...for your next game of Battletech or Alpha Strike:

A signed copy of "Yes You Khan: Negotiating in the Way of the Clans", a business management guide written by notorious hack Jackson Sea Fox. (Not even a Merchant- he is a Warrior trueborn.)

The cockpit hip-flask of Janice "Just You Watch" Johnson, the Sphere's worst mercenary on the record. Everybody wants it so they can destroy the thing, but everybody who gets their hands on it always ends up fumbling and losing it again, usually in such a way that starts a civil war and gets them sued for something. Not known as cursed, per se, but it is suspicious.

One of the famous Steiner-Davion wedding plates, forgotten here by the Liaos during a diplomatic outdoor barbecue meet-n-greet.

A notepad holding the true recipe for the infamous "Razin' Hazen" cocktail, said to overheat 'mechs into slag if poured over them and turn drinkers inside-out and backwards in seconds.

A relic of the Star League's fall- the shell from the very bullet that Amaris fired in ultimate, bloody treason! (Questions as to whether or not a laser weapon was used in that case are carefully avoided.)

The bar tab of Snord's Irregulars, a document (in fact, a massive binder) theoretically representing a debt of millions in any given currency to the bearer, if you assume they will ever actually pay it.

A really cool stick. It even looks like it has a cross-guard and everything. Come on, you can't not want to pick up that stick. To be perfectly clear: if it comes to it, people will die for that stick.

A box of the infamous Kuritan 'diplomacy tea', bred from cultivars specially selected to be horrible and tasteless, thereby revealing the mettle of an ambassador in whether they drink it as is or try to avoid it, or mask it with- Dragon forbid -sugar. It's sought after by paranoid diplomats who want to build up a tolerance.

Currently deflated and boxed up bouncy castle. And not the kiddy-size type either. Once you let the motor run it up, this could fit an Elemental Star inside, with room for backflips.

A preemptively manufactured t-shirt, which bears a ComStar logo and reads "I Helped Conquer The Known Galaxy In Operation SCORPION And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt". (Unisex fit, large, 100% cotton.)

[exololyunho]

put your hands up

masterlist

pairing: jung wooyoung/fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 2.8k

if someone had told you that you'd go to a frat party, have fun, and leave with the hottest man you'd ever seen, you'd call them an idiot. but boy are you glad they were right

warnings: unprotected sex, drunk ish sex (never really specified how much both parties drank, but they can both consent) creampie, public groping, making out on a dance floor, getting caught (kinda), light choking, oral, squirting, multiple orgasms, as always lmk if I missed something

rating: mature

an: this came from a horny daydream I had after listening to shalom for the first time

taglist: @staytinyinmybpack@jeonride@becky4733107-blog@ignoretheskies

join the taglist here

2021

Being here, in this sweaty basement, surrounded by people you barely knew was the last place you thought you’d end up tonight. What had started as a casual girls night with your friends had turned into this. An attempt by your friends to get you laid or even just have fun in a social setting. A frat party. Your first and hopefully last.

It wasn’t all terrible. The DJ was actually not half bad, except for the fact he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night. Douche. The booming bass combined with the disgustingly warm beer in your hand had led you onto the dance floor. It had taken a couple beers and a swig or two from a flask, but you’d ended up in the middle of the room. Sweaty bodies jostled yours, friends along with couples making out, but you found yourself lost in the music. Your hands were in the air as your hips swayed side to side.

As the temperature rose and your cup was quickly emptied, you found yourself in desperate need of a break. It wasn’t easy to navigate your way off the dance floor, but eventually you broke through, making a beeline to the keg to refill. With a fresh cup of semi cold beer, you settled your back against the cool wall, taking a moment to observe.

You were immensely grateful your friends had managed to convince you that the shorts and cropped tee you were wearing were a better idea than your jeans and long sleeve.

Eyes scanning the crowd, you were caught off guard when someone leaned right next to you, his eyes scanning your figure. The alcohol in your system was enough to suppress your usually timid nature. Instead, you simply quirked an eyebrow at him and took a sip of your beer while taking him in.

The man before you had slicked back black hair, a few strands falling over his forehead. He was handsome in a pretty way, his sharp eyes intimidating as they watched you. His full lips were turned up in a confident little smirk. The rest of him was just as attractive as his face, with his legs encased in form fitting black jeans and a pastel Hawaiian shirt that was unbuttoned enough to be indecent, but alluring.

Time seemed to stop as his eyes finally met yours. It felt like you were possessed. Like you had no control of your body as your hand grabbed his dragging him behind you into the crowd of dancing college students. His hand was soft in yours, and once he realized what you were doing, his grip tightened.

You were planning on heading into the middle where you'd been before, but the man had other plans. Surrounded by people still, but on the outskirts of the throng, he stopped. Before you could turn and tell him to keep moving he was pulling you back against him. Your back pressed to his chest, your hips slotting together as his hand left yours to find purchase on your stomach, holding you tight to him.

“Names  Wooyoung, pretty lady, what's yours?” his lips against the shell of your ear sent shivers down your spine.

You twisted back to look at him while still keeping as much contact with him as possible. “Y/n.”

He hummed, nosing at your neck as the two of you started swaying to the slightly slower song playing at the moment. It felt like every fiber of your being was overheating in the crowd, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from him. The firmness of his chest, the strong pressure of his hand on your stomach, his lips pressing ever so gently against your neck, it was all too much and not enough. 

The two of you didn’t exchange any more words for quite a while, the music changing pace and both of your hips following suit. At around song number 3 you started to feel him hardening against your back. He seemed to be blessed and if this was heading where you really really hoped it was, you were going to get lucky. 

Eventually, you got tired of simply dancing together. You pulled yourself from his grip, turning around, moving the hand with your beer over his shoulder so it was out of harm's way as you pressed your fronts together. 

With your unoccupied hand winding into his hair, your lips crashed together. It was messy, tongues immediately lashing out and teeth nipping at lips. His hands were on your ass, pulling you towards him and pressing his erection into you more fervently. Your hand in his hand released the grip you had, trailing down his neck, feeling up his chest, his abs, and then sliding between you to palm him over his jeans.

He pulled back, muttering “that's it,” as he untangled both of your limbs and plucked the beer out of your hands. You watched him warily, wondering if you'd crossed a line. Your fears were quickly thrown to the side as he took a big gulp of your drink. 

“Pledge!” Wooyoung yelled, nearly screaming over the music. A guy immediately appeared next to the two of you. “Here, dry week’s over for you.”

He handed the kid the half drunk beer and before you could see the pledge’s reaction, his hand was back in yours and he was pulling you towards the stairs. It was a struggle to get through the crowd, but with Wooyoung clearly on a mission, people parted as best as they could.

A few wolf whistles followed you and Wooyoung up the stairs, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care. Once out of the basement, the music was muffled and the air was fresher, allowing you to really breathe.

For a moment anyway, before Wooyoung was pushing you against the nearest wall, his lips back on yours and his hands on your thighs, lifting you to wrap them around his waist. This way, you could really feel just how hard he was, his hips rocking against yours as the two of you desperately grabbed at each other.

“Hey guys c’mon no fucking in the hallway!” a loud voice startled you, but Wooyoung kept his grip on you, pulling away from the wall to walk quickly away from whoever was yelling. You buried your face in his neck as he navigated to halls.

Wooyoung’s room was on the first floor, so you made it there quickly, the door shutting behind you. The room was simple, a double bed, some posters, a messy desk, and a few other personal items strewn about. You weren’t thrilled with the douchey LED lights under the bed set to red, but it wasn’t a deal breaker. 

Surprisingly gently,  Wooyoung set you down on his bed before he took a step back.

“You want this, right Y/n? I’m not misreading signals?” he looked unsure of himself for the first time since you’d met him.

“Yes, I’m sure,” sitting on the edge of the bed, you leaned back on your hands and spread your legs in an attempt to be seductive. His demeanor changed almost instantly, his face finding that confident smirk as he strode between your legs. He placed his knee right on the edge of the bed, pushing up against your core as he leaned over you. His lips met your ear again as you held your breath. 

“Good because you make me so hard. And from the way you just grabbed my dick on a crowded dance floor,” his lips moved down to your neck, sucking and biting between words. “I’d guess you were soaked.”

A started gasp clawed its way out of you as his hand moved to cup you over your shorts. 

“Hmm? What do you think, pretty lady? Am I right?”

It took everything in you just to nod, to confirm just how right he was. 

But that wasn’t enough. He pulled away from you, his hand grabbing your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Use your words. I want to hear you.”

Slack jawed, you nodded. “Yeah, yeah ok.”

“Good job, now get comfortable,” he backed away, standing up fully as he undid the buttons of his shirt. After a moment, you moved back against the pillows, tugging your top off, undoing your shorts and kicking your shoes off. Before you could get your pants all the way off, Wooyoung was stopping you. 

He crawled up between your legs, his hands taking over, yanking down your shorts and underwear. You weren’t quite sure what he was going to do next, but you definitely weren’t prepared for his tongue to immediately find your clit.

The surprised moan that left your moan only encouraged him. Two of his fingers quickly found their way inside you, curling up into just the right spot. One of your hands found its way to his hair, gripping tightly as he moved from soft licks to sucking hard on your clit. The change had your back arching and moans of his name bouncing off the walls. 

Wooyoung didn’t stop, even as your legs began to shake and you began to chant, ‘I’m close.’ In fact he didn’t stop even as you came. Your walls spasming around his fingers and your hips bucking up into his mouth didn’t stop him, he kept up that same pace that had you seeing stars. 

“Wooyoung!” It was hard to breathe with the immense pleasure from his ministrations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, only gripping his hair tighter and letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

It wasn’t until you were reaching your second high that you tried to stop him. Not because you wanted him to stop, not at all, but because there was a weird tightness in your core that you’d never experienced before. It was accompanying the normal tension of your orgasm approaching but it was weird, no less pleasurable, but different.

“Woo, wait I-” your sentence was cut off by your own loud moan. The feeling swept over you. It was so intense your vision blacked out for a moment. 

This orgasm was nothing like you’d ever felt before. Instead of washing over you in waves, it was constant. A fire all over you that had you shouting cries of his name as you burned up. Your legs were shaking, your eyes had rolled back, and your brain had shut off. 

All you could feel was him and the pleasure he brought you.

You finally came down, gasping for air.

Before you could even take a second to catch your breath, Wooyoung was flipping you over on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips into the air.One hand stayed attached to your hip while the other planted itself between your shoulder blades.

“God, baby that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you could hear the rustling of his pants and clinking of his belt. “I can’t believe I got you to squirt.”

Wait, what? You squirted? You’ve never done that before. But, you guess no one’s ever gone down on you like Wooyoung had before-

You weren’t able to finish your train before he was pushing into you. Wooyoung wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but god was his dick thick. It filled you, stretched you, so perfectly. 

“God, you’re tight y/n,” he gave a shallow thrust, both of you moaning at the feeling. He was dragging over your walls perfectly, and you couldn’t help but see stars. 

Wooyoung slowly started to build a forceful rhythm. His hips slamming into yours fast then withdrawing slowly. It was torture in the best way possible, but you  needed more.

“Faster, please,” you cried out, causing him to groan.

“Fuck,” he obeyed your request, pumping in and out at a speed you didn’t know was possible. 

Your face was still pressed against the mattress, the angle at which he held you allowing him to hit your g-spot on every thrust. Your hands holding onto the sheets were your only lifeline as his hips kept pumping.

Wooyoung’s hand snaked around your throat, before he was pulling you up against him. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his hip and arm as he held you up. The two of you were on your knees now as he kept pumping away.

“Look at how good you take me,” he cooed in your ear, causing your eyes to flash up towards the mirror you just noticed hanging over his headboard. You could see yourself, bar, with your mouth hanging open and his hand around your throat. You let out a strangled cry at the sight, nearly coming again from his eyes watching you.

His hand drifted down from your hip, reaching around to rub small circles on your clit. Watching him do it had you shaking, the pleasure overwhelming as your eyes flitted between his hand working magic on you and his face, consumed with his own pleasure.

Everything was too much, but so good. It was bringing you back to the brink faster than you thought possible.

“Cum for me,” his teeth were tugging on your earlobe, his breath hot against your neck. “Please.”

That did it, and with a cry, you came once again. As your walls spasmed, you could feel him cumming inside of you, flooding you with his cum, lengthening your own orgasm. 

Once the two of you came down, you both collapsed, him doing his best not to fall on top of you. You both laid there breathing heavily for a moment, before he was tugging you to him. Your head rested on his sweaty chest, his arm tucked around you.

“We should do that again.”

“Most definitely.”

[galaxycunt]

I Cant Keep Crying pt 1

Hello it’s me again. Angst/ smut/ etc etc under the cut

Part 2

You wish you could say you knew how you got here. You shared the same dream with every other pirate in the world. Your wide eyed idealism soon turned cynical, yet you remained on the sea. Your captain wasn’t the most fearsome, sticking to the East Blue was easy pickings. It worked for you, Buggy wasn’t the meanest boss you encountered. You knew how to stay on his good side, which helped.

After a particularly fun night, both of you good and drunk, he ended up between your legs. You decided you wanted to keep him there, as long as he’d let you. The way he looked at you made you think you had the final say in it no matter what.

He wasn’t ugly, but he also wasn’t the only pirate you let into your bed. You and him had a silent understanding, the sea was lonely. He was your captain, and you weren’t going to ask for special treatment. Whatever happened inside his cabin, stayed there.

“Fuck, I’m so close.”

You liked the way he looked under you, the feel of his cock inside you. Buggy massaged your nipples, biting your flesh everywhere. His hands found their way to your ass, forcing your hips to grind against him faster.

“Keep going, Buggy, fuck keep going.”

A groan caught in his throat as you came, flipping you over to find his own release. You were oversensitive, slapping the wall behind you. Buggy kissed your neck, spilling into you.

It was always quick and dirty, him pulling out slowly to grab his flask. You shared a drink while catching your breath, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

”My legs cant stop shaking,” you said with a laugh.

”Damn straight.”

He slapped your ass, making you laugh harder, “you’re funny.”

He turned you around to face him, planting a kiss on your lips. This was always your favorite part, especially if you got to stay the night. You traced patterns on his skin, him watching with a smile on his face.

“I found something from the last raid I think you might like.”

”Like what?”

He jerked his chin to a chest on his desk, “go look.”

You eyed him suspiciously, not really sure what to expect. You figured it’d be a gag gift, like the last one. It wasn’t your birthday yet, nor a holiday. He wasn’t one for gifting things anyway.

Inside was a necklace, a silver chain with a locket.

”Wow, thanks.”

He shrugged, “wasn’t worth too much. Thought it’d look great on you.”

”Well thanks, I love it,” you said, brushing off what he said.

“Put it on.”

The cool metal raised your skin, as well as the look he gave you from across the room. Slowly, you stalked over to him. Running a finger along his jaw, you kissed him again.

”Thanks, Captain.”

”If you really wanna thank me,” he motioned to his cock with a wink.

You honestly expected him to have a picture of it inside the damn locket. You decided to thank him anyway, not thinking too much into why the hell he gave you a gift in the first place. At least he apologized when cum got into your nostril. So gentlemanlike of him.

You cleaned each up other up with smiles before bed, Buggy always finding a way to keep touching you. You wanted to lie and say you were annoyed, or even apathetic about it. Your heart fluttered every time, relishing in this moment, because it was only you and him.

In the morning, Buggy always let you eat a meal with him. Ordering a crew mate to send breakfast in for the both of you. You were always shy, you didn’t need to know what they were saying about you to know they said anything about you.

Buggy fed you a biscuit, like you were lovers on a honeymoon. You could play pretend, you always did.

”There’s a nice place I heard about on this village, the booze is cheap as shit.”

”Hell yeah, I could use a night where my head is the only thing swaying around.”

He smiled, letting you linger as you readied for your daily tasks. You pretended to be busy as you watched him apply his makeup. You felt a little sad for him, like the clown persona wasn’t even a choice for him. Like it never was, but he wore it with pride. You admired him for that.

“Ready to face the day?”

Your name sounded so lovely on his lips.

”Of course, Buggy.”

He rewarded the crew with a night of partying, throwing berry around the crowded bar. The crew was only here a few days for a resupply, plenty of time to soak in the sights. You poured yourself a drink, trying to find him. You stood on your toes, searching for that bright orange hat amongst the crowd.

You finally spotted him, pushing your way to that hat like it was a beacon. You wanted to ask him why he gave you that locket you were still wearing, and what it meant to him.

”Heya Bug-“

You froze, witnessing his tongue being shoved down another person’s throat. One of the townies, of course they wouldn’t have a reason not to. Not like your crew mates, avoiding eye contact with you in embarrassment.

He noticed you staring, a smeared red smile on his face.

”What, what? Need more berry?” He turned to his newest hook up, “can’t say I’m not a generous captain, here you go baby, be merry!”

You crumpled the notes in your fist, rushing back towards the bar. Scanning the dark room, you couldn’t find a suitable replacement. One was found for you, a man with a nice smile whispering in your ear. You moved him to be within Buggy’s line of sight, kissing him sloppily.

You could scream, but instead pulling him out into the fresh air with force. You ran your arms over your clothes, looking for an ear. You couldn’t find one, tears on the verge of falling.

”Hey, did you see my captain looking at us when we left?”

The stranger shook his head, “I say you’re off the hook, babe.”

You nodded, deciding to take him then and there in that dark alleyway. You hoped Buggy would catch you, hoping for a reaction that could tell you what he didn’t want to say. Something besides what you didn’t want to hear.

After he got you off, you left him there to stumble on your separate ways. You only wanted to enter Buggy’s cabin, to throttle whoever he decided to bring home that night. It was beneath you, you been doing this long enough to know better.

Buggy ruined it, with that stupid locket. It wasn’t even just the locket, it was the special bottle he’ll save for you, the extra sweets on your birthday, the way he remembered whatever small detail you’d tell him.

He couldn’t belong to only you, he had a way to make anyone follow him to hell and back. He could treat people however he wanted, they wouldn’t leave him. He knew he had you hook, line, and sinker.

Instead of heading towards his bed, you entered the crew’s quarters. No one was there, you could scream and kick things around in private. It didn’t help anything, leaving you to nurse a sprained ankle and a hangover.

”Whoa there, what happened to you last night?” Buggy cornered you in the storage room, your hands sore from sharpening blades for hours.

”Had a little bit fun yourself, huh Captain?”

He laughed nervously, “what’s the point of plundering if you can’t enjoy the spoils?”

”Yeah, your little friend last night seemed pretty nice.”

He ignored the comment, “where’s that necklace, you lose it already?”

”I didn’t wanna wear it today,” you said flatly.

He only nodded, taking blades from the finished pile. Buggy half heartedly checked stock, glancing every so often if your direction until you left.

You figured you were hormonal, or maybe even just coming down with a cold. Something was to blame for you suddenly caring. You haven’t been on land in months, you forgot how things worked between you two. That had to be it.

”Captain wants to speak to you.”

You could handle whatever he wanted to throw at you.

He opened the door with a smile, pushing you inside. He handed you a pile of clothes, things to be mended.

”Is that all from you?”

”Ah, no. I remembered a long time ago, a certain member of my merry band of freaks liked playing the accordion. So…”

”Uh, wow. Thanks, Captain.”

”Figured all those shanties needed some accompaniment.”

You tilted your head, “why?”

He blushed, “do I need one?”

He was trying to buy you off. He looked at you like he was expecting something, his hands floated to your body, tugging at your clothes. Hands that touched someone else, but you couldn’t cry about that. You did it too.

”Seems like you have a reason in mind, Bug.”

He nodded, stripping you bare.

“I’m a big fan of every noise coming out of your mouth.”

You let him fuck you, you not being able to get that night out of your mind. His mouth is on your pussy, determined to make you his.

“Stop, stop.”

”What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

You expected him to beg, to plead for you to stay. A promise or two about changing, that it was only you.

Instead he yelled, “fine! See if I care! Fucking go!”

He threw your clothes at you, refusing to even look at you. When you were taking too long, he shoved you out the door, shirt still unbuttoned, leaving you exposed. Before closing it, he threw costumes and the accordion out into the hallway.

”This shit better be done by tonight or I’ll have your head on a platter.”

The accordion was in pieces, you attempted to pick it up before he screamed at you to go. Leaving Buggy and anyone around to stare at the broken mess on the floor.

You hid from the crew the rest of the day, tearfully mending each item. While everyone went out to party, you left the costumes by the door. He wasn’t there, expecting you to leave them somewhere while he went out himself. You knew he was going to bring someone else back to his bed.

As you set the costumes down, you noticed the accordion in the trash, you carefully held it in your hands. It should be an easy fix, at least until Buggy decides you didn’t deserve it back.

With a sigh, you worked on the instrument alone on the deck. Watching the life on shore from afar. The tears blurred your work, feeling stupid for leaving Buggy. Shit, you felt stupid for even thinking a captain like him would even care about an underling like you.

It was getting late, and you fixed the accordion the best you could. Testing it out with a soft song, you choked on a sob. Buggy walked across the deck, another lover around his arm. He glanced at you briefly, his expression hard to read in the dark.

[musickool]

Headcanon: Holiday Gifts for Keanu's characters.

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ス ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ ꒱ ‧ ₊˚

ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛

the *stoner accent* murst happy cheery boy on xmas!

he loves, LOVES gifts

christmas is one of his most favourite holidays, or in fact, IS his favourite holiday; halloween just being a close second

not just cause of the food

or the snow

the bodacious music or jolly vibes

or the free school holidays so he won't need to do stupid bogus history homework

but because of the presents!

ted would absolutely love if you gifted him something for christmas

it doesn't have to be elaborate or big, but something that a neurodivergent (/j) rock-enthusiast weird kid like him would like

custom guitar picks, comic books, a bucket of tutti-fruity bubblegum & cheese puffs, cute little stickers, fruit-flavoured candy (not too much though as they hurt his teefies), a nintendo gameboy, drawing books....

he'd also like makeup, like black eyeliner & eyeshadow and a couple of nail polish so him and bill can use for their wyld stallyns performances

gift him some eddie van halen posters, cds, keyrings, trinkets, or any of that paranphelia and he'll worship you for life

oh yeah, he don't play around with his eddie van halen

less you forget that

he'll also love tapes and cds and merch of other rock bands he adores

RUBIX CUBE! he'll love a mean rubix cube as his personal fidget toy 🥺

ted's very easy to please, just don't buy him an air supply or beatles vinyl album

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒

antithesis of ted

this man is the grunge adaptation of scrooge, but with less hate and more indifference

doesn't really care about xmas

mostly thinks it's for kids

giving gifts to this guy will be a little bit hard because this man is such a depressed little nihilist sometimes

he'll scoff and bluff, but deep down his emotions speaks otherwise

he never really states what he like or anything personal about him - he's a very private man with only one thing on his mind (lyke idk saving the world from satan and the apocalypse ???)

but what you do know about him is that this man is a chronic smoker

john would definitely fw a silver plated lighter

like the vivienne westwood ones

or a custom black one with his initials on it

he also drinks a lot of whiskey

jack daniel's? jim beam bourbon? jameson?

pair that up with a leather hip flask and he's good to go

silver jewellery type of guy? mhm!

he'd love a cross chain necklace

like deep-silver cross/crucifix pendant ones

would look so fucking cool on him

silver accessories always look so hot on daddy constantine

other than that, nothing much

he's not invested in xmas but he doesn't hate it

his mind will be more occupied on demon hunting and existential brainrots than that

yet he still has a soft spot (secretly) so xmas with him won't be so bleeping bad

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘

pretty normal about xmas

celebrating with him would be so freaking wholesome though

you're so used to seeing john as his stoic dilf self that him being all lovely with you during this jolly season would be a fever dream

giving him gifts would be, again, pretty normal

he's a simple guy, and already rich enough to buy himself whatever, after all, so your xmas shopping spend will be looking pretty alright

john is a traditional manly man so his gifts would be of that orient

he's also a bit old so keep that in mind...

brown leather-strapped watch, woody oak cologne, men's grooming set, a brand new dog that won't randomly disappear after a few months

john is a bookworm, he'd love some good ol' classic fiction novels and philosophical/critical/mindfuck books to open up and out his mind

he's a handy man so a brand-new toolbox would be nice

he's also a lover of whiskey and wine, so again, some jack daniel's or bourbon and malboc or pinot noir

this would be the funniest shit ever but please gift this man a pencil as a joke

i swear he'll be so oblivious at first but when he clocks, this mf will death stare you like hell whilst you try so hard to not burst into laughter

but on a wholesome note, a ring will put a smile right back onto that man's face

like cute couple rings you and him can wear, like he'll smile so hard

a heart locket necklace with a picture of you and him inside

oh he'll absolutely die inside

john's such a sucker for classic romance, you don't understand

he'll love vinyl records of 70s and 80s vintage classics, taking him back to his younger days

john will cherish these well... 💌

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

the very antithesis of ted

this man is scrooge

does not not care about xmas and probably never will

"mindless fucking consumerism"

he definitely thinks that shit is for kids

gifts for this guy will be as hard as an harvard acceptance letter

90% of the time this man is never really happy

he's either miserable or annoying or insulting or all at the same time

he would, however, accept it, if it's from you

but johnny never tells personal information

he's a very egotistical individual so the most personal you'll get from him is the edge of how big his c*ck is (*facepalms.png*)

𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎

another happy cheery boy on xmas

and another favourite himbo of mine 💘

he obviously loves xmas

it's the only time he won't have to be digging under trash heaps for diamonds

he's a very weird and random kid so you know he'll like anything

finding a xmas present for him would be easy cause as long as the shit's entertaining, he's pretty much on board

and it's the 80s, so what really can a broke teenage runaway enjoy back then?

but anyways, that's whatever

rupert would definitely like these as gifts: comic books, candy, shakespeare novels, an eight ball, rubix cube, wristbands, money, a crown (???)-

SLIME! give the boy some green slime to play with! (helps with his stims)

*murmuring* why can i imagine him in a skir- yeah give this boy a skirt

and a skateboard

gnarly combination

𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜/𝑗𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟

basic as fuck

these dudes are like the hallmarks of xmas

both are different genres of white men in hallmark-esque movies

standard white guy, 30-something year old millennial who's into sports and having a beer with the boys vs twink stock image standard white man who's a doctor and every old karen white woman's dream come true

one, however, is more generic and conventionally attractive hallmark white male than the other (julian)

shane's a manly man so he'd probably like some fishing equipment or men's grooming kit or some kind of sports team merch

he'd also like those beer keg stands or mini fridges where he can put his infinite supply of heineken or guiness inside

a handy man also so a nice new toolbox too

julian...... yeah julian i don't actually know about

he's probably just bisexual or something, idk-

that's about it.

[eastwindmlk]

My first @jilymicro-oops for @jilymicrofics prompt: Despondant Word count: 1,561

Winter had fallen over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, covering the black lake with a thick sheet of ice and the grounds in crisp white power. It put everyone in a good mood — Despite being the coldest winter in a decade.

Everyone but Quidditch captain and head boy James Potter.

Sure, he liked the snow, and he adored the ice, but he hated the fact that it was too cold to fly. At least according to Minnie. This meant that until further notice, they would cancel quidditch.

He was brave, sure. Stupid, sometimes. But not stupid enough to try to organize a training session when his head of house had told him not to.

If it weren’t for the misplaced concerned staff, he would be up in the air, winning one of the most important matches this year.

Instead, the bespectacled boy was growing more and more despondent, surveying the preposterous scene below him. People were laughing and squealing, building forts out of snow and having snowball fights. Sniffing indignantly, James took a sip of his tea when footsteps came up behind him.

James was sitting in the window, a blanket wrapped around him and a flask of hot tea clutched in his hand. If it had not been for the pesky flu winding him before he even got to the Great Hall, he would be out there with his friends.

He was starting to regret having sent them off, assuring them he’d be alright on his own. The eerie silence of the common room started to settle in his chest with a nervous tingle. Accompanied only by the sound of his rattling breath, his fingers turning pages of a book he could barely remember the protagonist’s name of.

It took less than a chapter for him to give up on reading, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. Eyes somewhere far away, simply enjoying the cold against his feverish skin.

“Potter?” Lily’s soft voice drew his attention. Blinking at her, bleary-eyed and confused. Slowly focussing on her, still wrapped in her lammy coat, nose, and ears frost-nipped. Adding not seeing Lily Evans with snow on her lashes to the list of things he missed out on.

She raised an eyebrow at him, tilting her head forward a little, even so, it took him a few moments to realize that he must have missed something she said. “Huh?” he asked inelegantly, his voice barely excitant.

Her hand darted out, fingers brushing his forehead. Going by the expression on her face, she wasn’t all too happy with her findings. “You really should go to the hospital wing.” Her tone was disapproving, her look more so after he shook his head.

“I’m fine, Evans,” he protested, the words followed by a coughing fit. Forcing the corners of his lips up, a pathetic, pained smile. But a smile nonetheless.

The look on Lily’s face said more than her words ever could. She did not believe him. He would not have believed himself, either. But James could not help but feel she was overacting a little. Standing there with her hands on her hips, tutting at him.

“Back to bed with you,” she ordered, jerking her thumb in the direction of the girls’ dorm. A mistake likely made out of habit. But James was not above malicious compliance, especially not if it offered the opportunity to explore Lily’s dorm.

After all, this was practically an invitation.

With a lot of wheezing and huffing, he got up from his spot. Feeling more stiff now than he had when he’d accidentally fallen asleep in the same spot. Cursed flu. With sluggish motions, he turned left. Dragging himself up the stairs, the redhead questioned him all the way up.

“Oh no, you are not going in there! No, sir!” Lily protested, pushing herself past him to block the door to her dorm. The twin braids she was wearing quaked as she shook her head at him.

The walk up the stairs was enough to leave him light-headed and when Lily pushed past him, the jolt made his head spin. Forcing him to grab the door frame beside her. Swaying back and forth dangerously.

Okay, maybe she had a point about seeing the matron. But it wasn’t like he could make it all the way there in the state he was in, regardless.

Still, he persevered in his mission. Just a few more steps and he could collapse into Lily Evans’ bed. “I really don’t see why not. You told me to go to bed, I am,” he argued, noses almost brushed before he managed to brace himself.

James assumed it was instinct that made her grab onto him while he lulled backwards. Leaning heavily into her for balance.

“Fucking hell, Potter. You are really not leaving me any choice, are you?” Lily complained through gritted teeth. Even though he tried to carry himself, he was having a hard time staying upright. “Just don’t mind the mess, alright.”

He’d have rolled his eyes at her if he could, but instead settled for a faint hum in agreement. Hearing the door click open, even through his stuffed nose, he could smell the lavender and eucalyptus wafting from the room. The scent sent him into another coughing fit.

Tracing a strangely familiar path to a bed, Lily set him down. Her hand gently petted his back, soothing the cough.

“You have the same bed,” he remarked, barely able to breathe but no longer coughing. He blinked the stars out of his eyes and allowed himself to be guided into a collection of fluffy pillows.

The redhead came into view, still looking at him disapprovingly. “Catch your breath before offering commentary.” Her voice was stern, her coat now discarded on top of her trunk. Which did nothing to cover up the lacy, green bra half hanging out of it.

The sight made a cheeky smile creep onto his lips, reminding him of the reason he’d fought his way up there. A glimpse of her dorm.

In the middle of the room, the girls had a large shag rug in shades of yellow and orange. They had scattered a few large pillows around. It looked comfortable. Like something he thought he should have done in his own dorm ages ago.

There were sun catchers and macrame plant holders hung from the windows. Lily had a bundle of dried lavender hung from one of the posters on her bed. He also spotted a pair of pink knickers stuffed into the side of the bed before she snatched it up and kicked it under the bed.

“Your dorm is a lot nicer than mine,” he concluded once he’d caught his breath, eyes having roamed her little space. “Smells better too.”

That made Lily laugh, making her clamp her hand over her mouth as she snorted adorably. Her face turned a shade of pink. “That is because Marlene’s Quidditch gear isn’t here,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. “You should smell it then.”

James’s shoulders shook with laughter, eyes on the canopy as his head started to spin again. “That might be the problem.” He sniffed, rubbing at his temples, trying to banish the throbbing.

He did not need to look to feel the mattress dip under her weight, her thigh pressing against his hip. Her fingers brushed along the collar of his shirt. Making his blood sing, heart beating against his already sore chest.

“Can I? It’ll help.” She held up a blue jar or something he did not recognize. Going by the font, it was a muggle invention. He wasn't opposed to that.

Nodding slowly, James pushed himself onto his elbows, allowing her to pull his shirt up. Unable to look away while she scooped some of the cream out of the jar and carefully rubbed it into his chest. Her fingers traced gentle circles. And he swore that he felt better already.

Her palm rested over his heart for a moment and James could swear she smiled when she felt it skip and sprint. Pushing himself up a little more, their faces close enough together that he could feel her breath fan over him.

He could hear Lily’s breath hitch, lips practically brushing when a dizzy spell made him reel, sagging back into the pillows. She only chased his lips until her centre of balance tipped her forward and jolted her out of the moment.

Emerald eyes blinked at him, her face turning his favourite shade of pink. “Um- I. Can you turn around?” Her request was unexpected, making him hesitate long enough for her to explain. “I need to do your back, too.”

“Right, of course,” he stammered, twisting for her to be able to reach over. Her body pressed into his. Not taking nearly as long as she had before. However, he swore that she took a moment to run her fingers along his shoulder blades and down his spine before pulling his shirt back down.

“All done!” The redhead announced, moving off the bed and smiling down at him. “I suggest you take a nap. Let it do its work.”

He reached out to catch her wrist, tugging her back towards him. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Instead of an answer, Lily leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, James.”