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megamindsecretlair · 1 year ago

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Just One Taste

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!OC!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Dom fem, all consensual. Heavy use of n-word. Disrespectful Tyrone. Drug use. Tyrone POV. Mild Sub Tyrone.

Summary: Tyrone gets lost in a deserted town with his friends. The only place open is the library. They head inside and receive quite the surprise.

Word Count: 5,642k

A/N: Trying something new! Happy spooky Halloweek. I hope this fit the bill. It was majorly fun to shake it up a bit, do something a little new I hope! Listen, I need to go lay down myself!! Because sweet lawdt! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! I blocked over a hundred people today for no ages!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer

“Man, pull the fuck over,” Tyrone snapped. The car pulled over to the closest sidewalk and his friend put it in park.

Tyrone climbed out of the car. The first thing he noticed was the chill. Burrowing cold whipped against his skin and he fought off a shiver. He sparked up, inhaling the weed and exhaling the stressful drive.

“Told ya’ll niggas which way to go and now we lost,” he muttered, mostly to himself. He was pissed. They were supposed to mob up in Vegas for the weekend, get out of the city and into something a little strange for the upcoming Halloween weekend.

But you can’t trust non-reading ass niggas. Tyrone knew it and, yet, he let them drive because he wasn’t feeling it today. He searched the area around him, noting the darkened buildings and dim streetlights. There was an eerie lack of cars around.

“Where the fuck did you take us to?” Tyrone leaned down into the open passenger side. His friend, Paul, was on his phone finagling with the GPS.

“Ion know, nigga! I was on the 15!”

Their other friend, Mike, who sat in the back seat slapped the back of Paul’s head. “You got us lost mu’fucka!”

The two men got into a playful slapping match, calling each other names and cursing at each other. Tyrone stood up straight and took a hit. He rolled his shoulders and looked up into the darkened sky. He thought there were supposed to be stars and shit out here in the desert, without pollution from the light.

He scanned the area once more. It looked like some Scooby-Doo shit. There appeared to be a main street with a hardware store, general store, local restaurant, and a souvenir shop. There were buildings further beyond that, but the cruel California/Nevada night gave no indication of life.

The air felt empty yet tangible. Like there was an invisible screen just in front of his face. “Corny ass, niggas,” Tyrone muttered and took off down the street. Maybe if he found someone’s house, he could knock and get some help. He only hoped this wasn’t one of them racist in-between towns that’d shoot him on sight.

It’d be just his mu’fuckin’ luck to get shot in the boonies on his way to Vegas. Instead of getting shot back in LA. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?

Car doors slammed behind Tyrone and his friends called after him. “Aye, where you goin’?”

“To mind my business, nigga,” Tyrone bit out. He wanted some sleep. He was so fuckin’ tired and the weed wasn’t hitting like usual.

The streetlights overhead were spaced out so far apart that he was entrenched in shadow every time he made it past a beam of light. He sighed as he walked, wondering what the hell they were supposed to do with no service in a town like this. If they slept in the car, would they wake up to some old white mu’fucka with a shot gun?

Hell, maybe he watched too much TV.

“Aye, what’s that?” Mike pointed a meaty finger towards the distance. At the end of the block, the streets rounded off. There was a tall, brick building on the corner with a lonely light over the doorstep. They were too far away to read the sign overhead.

“Hopefully someone who can help ya’ll dumbasses,” Tyrone said. He passed the blunt to Paul and took off down the street, wishing he had a jacket.

This was the type of cold that sunk down into the bones as soon as you acknowledged it. And it was hard to shake.

Tyrone made a beeline for that lonely beacon of hope, praying for someone to be inside and willing to help. Mike lumbered after him while Paul kept time with Tyrone’s quick strides. No one spoke.

As they got closer, Tyrone noticed the sign. It was a library.

“What’s a library doing open so late?” Paul asked.

“Let’s just hope it’s warm. And they got food or somethin’. I’m hungry,” Mike complained.

“Yo fatass always hungry. I’m surprised you weren’t munchin’ on the car seat,” Paul said and snickered. He put out the blunt on the side of the building.

Tyrone cracked a smile. Mike pushed Paul who went jumping a few feet sideways. “Can ya’ll shut the fuck up? Damn.” Tyrone huffed and pushed into the library.

Inside, there was ambient lighting and no one at the front desk. A little bell rung from the open door and the trio whipped their heads to it, huffing quick and nervous laughs.

“Scared, little nigga?” Mike asked.

“Nah, all I gotta do is hide behind yo fatass ‘till I can dip,” Paul said and laughed. He danced out of the way of Mike’s big paws. Tyrone stood in the entryway and raised his eyes to the ceiling.

If he made it out of this bumfuck town, he was getting new friends. The library was decent and less cold than outside. There were tables spread out in front of the info desk, books scattered on them. There were shelves and rows of books stretching the length of the space and those little sorting carts he thought were only in movies.

There was the same sense of emptiness here that was just like outside. Perhaps the town was just that small that it didn’t have a presence or personality like in a bigger town or city. Whatever it was, it set Tyrone on edge as he looked around. He moved closer to the info desk, scanning it for anything he could use.

Maybe it was just that kind of town. Maybe all of the doors were left open. Car doors too. Because who the fuck would steal from this empty ass town?

Mike and Paul were still fussing at each other, slinging insults back and forth. Tyrone turned around, already annoyed and approaching irritated. “Can ya’ll shut the fuck up? And help?”

Mike and Paul gave each other one last shove. Tyrone scoffed and took a step forward.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

Mike and Paul screamed. Tyrone flinched and turned to the source of the sound. To his right, a woman stood there dressed like someone’s fantasy of a librarian. She wore a button up white shirt, skin-tight black skirt, complete with a loose mini tie. The collar of the shirt was open, a few buttons loose down to show her generous cleavage.

And she was thick as hell, straining the material of her outfit to near sinful levels. If she breathed too hard, the rest of the buttons would go flying everywhere and reveal the rest of the bra that poked out beneath the shirt. Her button down was tucked into the skirt with a skinny belt and non-flashy buckle.

Her hair was tucked up into a high bun and she wore glasses loose on her nose. She was so fuckin’ cute and sexy at the same time. The stirrings of desire tightened Tyrone’s gut and his dick twitched. He flexed his fists at his side, trying to calm his racing heart.

��Damn lady! You fuckin’ scared us!” Paul yelled. He shoved Mike off of him, the two getting close after being so scared. Tyrone kept his eyes on the woman. She pursed her lips at the boys and shook her head.

“Have some manners when you come in here,” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am,” Paul said instantly. Mike and Tyrone stared at him. Paul has never said anything like that in all his life. Whatever spell Tyrone had been under looking at the woman, it seemed to have caught Mike and Paul as well. No one could resist glancing away from her for long.

The woman took a deep breath and finally turned beautiful eyes towards him. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“We’re turned around. We were heading up to Vegas,” Tyrone explained. He moved closer, wanting to be in her orbit. Nervousness crept up his spine. He scowled. The fuck did he have to feel nervous for?

She looked at the girly watch on her wrist and then raised an eyebrow at him. “A little late isn’t it?” She asked.

“Better than stuck in traffic tryin’ to get there for the weekend,” he said.

She conceded the point with a twist of her juicy lips. Red lipstick drew his eyes to her mouth. There was a sudden vision in his head of kissing her and smearing it. He imagined red lip prints on his skin. He imagined licking it off of her.

The images were so vivid, he got hornier. Gettin’ bricked up by the minute. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

“Um, we just want to know where we are so we can get movin’,” Tyrone said.

“And get to food,” Mike said right next to Tyrone’s ear. He flinched and turned to see that Mike and Paul had moved without him noticing. They stood in a near perfect line, transfixed on the librarian.

That comment seemed to soften her. She shook her head at the boys. “Have a seat, I’ll see if I can find something. May as well rest up before heading back on the road,” she said. “Do you want to help me look?”

A secret smile played about her carmine lips. He took a step forward but her eyes weren’t on him, it was on Mike. Mike grinned from ear to ear and nodded his head. Swift disappointment hit Tyrone in the gut.

That was his boy, but what the fuck did she see in him and not Tyrone? He scowled as Mike disappeared down the stacks with the librarian, murmuring softly to each other. As soon as the woman was gone, Tyrone could think more clearly.

Paul shook his head and sucked his teeth. “The fuck she want with that greedy mu’fucka?” Paul flopped down into the nearest seat. Tyrone sighed and joined him, looking around at the space.

Tyrone and Paul shot the shit as they waited for Mike and the librarian to return. While he wasn’t starving, he could eat. His buzz was faint but still there and it made his head go pleasantly funny.

“I bet his ass eatin’ all the snacks and tryin’ to get her number,” Paul said.

Tyrone huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Dawg, I’m just ready to go,” he said. He ran a hand down his face. How long had he been there? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? How long did it take to round up some crackers?

“Nigga, shut up. You know fuck well you’d hit that given the chance,” Paul said. He fidgeted in his seat. He leaned forward, then back. Put his elbows behind him on the desk. Stretched out his legs.

“Stop movin’ damn,” Tyrone said. He sighed and shook his head. He was definitely getting new friends after this.

Shuffling near the back made Paul sit up straight, like a dog excited to see its owner. Tyrone gave him a weird look before catching the confused look on his face. Tyrone turned towards the sound. Mike had a dopey grin on his face, walking zombie-like towards them.

The librarian trailed behind him, looking more or less happier than when she found three strange men in the library late at night. “No snacks for us?” Paul asked. “Did yo fatass eat it all?”

Mike continued walking and sat down in the next available seat on their side of the table. Tyrone was the closest and shook Mike. He only kept the goofy smile on his face, hands placed flat on the table, and stared straight ahead.

“Aye, what you do to him?” Tyrone asked.

“Excuse me?” The Librarian asked.

“Why he look like that?” Tyrone asked. He shoved Mike once more, but there was no one home behind Mike’s eyes.

“Aye what the fuck, lady!” Paul yelled. He jumped up from the chair he sat in and rounded Tyrone to get to Mike. He shook Mike, pulling at his oversized T-shirt. Mike blinked a few times and looked down at his stretched shirt in Paul’s hands.

“What the fuck man!” Mike yelled and shoved Paul.

“We thought she did something to you!”

Mike adjusted his shirt with a scowl and shook his head. “What could she do? We had a muffin. Gonna make fun of me for that too, little nigga?”

Paul looked between Mike and Tyrone. Tyrone trained his eyes on the Librarian who watched the whole thing like something was funny. Her lips were turned up like she and Mike knew a dirty secret.

Tyrone stood up and approached her. His head grew fuzzier as he approached, but he pushed on. Pushed past that feeling. He got into her face and stared down at her. He wasn’t a tall man but she also wasn’t a tall woman. And her small heels didn’t give her an advantage.

“We not here for games. Where the hell are we?” He demanded.

The Librarian sighed and it was like he smelled the greatest scent in the world. It was something dark, alluring, like pomegranates. He leaned in, wanting to smell more of it.

“You’re not far from the 15, I promise. You probably didn’t catch the turn off driving in this type of darkness.”

“The hell you do to him?” Tyrone asked and cocked his head to the side.

“What are you talking about?”

“What took you so long to come back out? Don’t take that fuckin’ long for a muffin,” he said.

The Librarian rolled her eyes. “I’m going to assume it’s the weed that’s making you paranoid. I asked for Michael’s help with some boxes that needed lifting. Some men like to help,” she said and pointedly looked at Tyrone.

He caught the challenge, a burning in his chest to defend himself. “I ain’t know you needed help,” he said.

“There’s still a few things I need to move. Can you help me before you go on our way, screaming that I’m the devil?” She lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow and Tyrone looked at Mike.

Maybe she was right. But Tyrone didn’t trust it. He looked to Paul who shook his head. Mike just stared at him blankly. The smell of pomegranate hit him again and his mouth watered. He looked back at the Librarian.

“I help you, you help me, that sort of thing?” He asked.

The Librarian shrugged. “I’m a librarian. I’ll help you anyway,” she said. “Won’t take as long as I did with Michael. I promise,” she said.

The way she kept saying his name made Tyrone scowl. He wanted to hear his name on her lips. He wanted her to scream it while he was balls deep inside of her. He blinked and shook his head. Where did that come from?

He found himself nodding anyway, following behind the Librarian. He watched her ass in that skirt that looked painted on. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she didn’t have any panties on. He didn’t see any panty lines as she walked.

She moved fast, disappearing down a few stacks. Towards the back, there was a door marked for employees only. She went inside and held the door open for him. It led to a dingy hallway with a few doors on either side. To their immediate left, there was a small kitchenette with a basket of muffins on the table.

The Librarian walked past, heading down the hallway. “I’m Tyrone, by the way,” he said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

He huffed, thinking he was going to hear his name from her voice. He followed her to an office. It was cramped, one lonely and neat desk surrounded by stacks of books and notebooks, papers, and a sorting cart.

She pointed to a few boxes on top of a high bookshelf. “Can you please get these down for me? The last librarian was a giant and they’re too heavy for me,” she said.

He nodded and used a step ladder to climb up and get the boxes. She was right, they were heavy. Probably filled with books and shit. He got to work, climbing up and down the ladder and moving boxes. He worked up a nice sweat in the office. A single drip of sweat slid down his neck and down his chest.

They made small talk while he worked. He learned that she was new to town and he asked her what made her move to some place like this.

“It’s quiet and the people are nice. That’s what I was looking for,” she said.

“Bad ex?” He asked. He huffed as he strained under the heaviest box yet.

“No, just wanted a change. If that’s too heavy, don’t hurt yourself trying to move it. I can ask the shop owner to help. He’s a giant too,” she said.

Tyrone scoffed and worked even harder to scoot the box from the top of the shelf. Fuck that. If anyone was going to help her, it was going to be him. He made a sound as he got the box down and descended the ladder. Thank fuck it was the last box.

He set it down on top of the others with a smug smirk and looked at her. She returned his smirk and she leaned on one side, calling attention back to her figure.

Tyrone licked his lips and thought, fuck it. “If you need more help, we got time,” he said.

“Don’t think I’m the devil anymore?” She teased.

He stepped closer, closer than he ought to. That pomegranate smell hit him again and he leaned in. “Never thought you were the devil. Just sayin’. I can help with anything,” he said. He cast his eyes all over her body, his fingers tingling with the urge to touch her. To see if he could peel her skirt off and lick what’s left behind.

“Anything huh?” She asked. She laughed and trailed her long red nails across his chest. A shudder ran through him, desire spiking higher. His dick twitched, getting thicker. She moved from around him and fiddled with things on her desk.

Tyrone approached her, trying not to spook her. He pressed into her back, placing his hands on either side of her on top of her desk. He inhaled the heavenly scent of her, his nose pressed to the back of her neck. He didn’t know why he was being so bold. But he knew that if he didn’t at least try, if he didn’t shoot his shot, he’d forever regret it.

There was no way he was coming back to this town. But he couldn’t leave without a taste of her. Just one taste.

“Must get lonely in this town,” he whispered.

“What makes you say that?”

“‘Cause you in this library instead of at home, letting some idiot fuck you to sleep,” Tyrone said.

The Librarian chuckled. “You always talk so nasty to strangers?” She asked.

Tyrone placed a kiss against her neck since she wasn’t stopping him. “Mhm, no ma’am. Just hate the thought of you here all alone,” he said.

“Why, you want to fix it?” She asked. She turned around, turning mischievous eyes to him. She laughed and for a split second…nah, that can’t be right. Her eyes didn’t flash red. Impossible.

He licked his lips and nodded, drawn once more to her lips. “Do you really want to fix it?” Her voice turned sultry and she drew her pink tongue across her lips. He followed the movement, undone by it.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Sit down, Tyrone,” she commanded.

Tyrone’s legs bent without any thought to if there was a chair behind him or not. Luckily there was and he sank into the plush chair with a quiet sigh.

She sank down to her knees and he was mesmerized by the way her skirt moved with her. How it didn’t rip or tear on the way down. He widened his legs and she smirked at him, running her hands up and down his solid thighs.

His dick tented his sweats, obviously showing his desire for her. He was near mad with it. Lustful. He ached to bury his dick somewhere warm and wet. She had the same idea as she eyed it.

She moved her hands to the waistband of his sweats and started to shimmy them down far enough to free his dick. She palmed him, stroking him, and he bit his lip to keep from moaning. He was not going to bust off of a hand job. The fuck he looked like?

She wasted no time leaning onto her knees and taking him deep. “Oh fuck,” he said and his hips jerked off of the chair.

She took him to the base, suckling him and moaning around his dick. She played with the tip, swirling her tongue around the head and licking up any drop of pre-cum. She slurped as she released him and then ran her hand up and down his length.

“Wait, put yo mouth back on me,” he said.

“Did you like it?” She asked.

“Fuck yes,” he said.

She did not return her mouth to his dick. She stroked him, driving him insane with the right amount of pressure and speed. But it was nothing like her mouth. He reached up to pull her head back down. He didn’t know why women wanted to be cute when he just wanted to bust.

She moved her head out of the way. “Put your hands down or I stop,” she snapped.

Tyrone’s hands froze in mid air. His mind stuttered as her voice was equal parts erotic and scary. There it was again. That same flash of red in her eyes. She grinned but it was like a slash across her face. Still hot. Still a little scary.

He was no stranger to a girl taking control in the bedroom. He didn’t always like it, but he wasn’t always the cool and calm mu’fucka he projected around LA. He fumbled the first time he had sex. A few times after that as well.

He lowered his hands back to the arm rests and she ran her tongue across her teeth. “Good boy,” she said.

She stroked him and stared at him, waiting to see if he’d try something else. When she was satisfied, she dipped her head and really got to work. Her mouth sucked him down like she was trying to eat him alive. Burning pleasure seeped into him and he threw his head back against the back of the chair.

“Won’t you moan for me, Tyrone? I like to know I’m doing a good job too,” she said and then returned to sucking the soul out of him. That’s exactly what it felt like. Like she was drinking from the very essence of him.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, twisting his hips. Trying to push more of himself into her mouth. He licked his lips and made himself sit up. Made himself watch as his dick slipped in and out of her mouth. His hands gripped the rough fabric of the chair, dying to grab her. Hold her.

Saliva gathered on his dick. Her mouth was hot and perfect on his velvety dick. She added her hands, stroking as she slobbered. The room filled with wet suckling noises. Garbled saliva noises. She slurped him up and his climax hit the base of his spine. His balls grew heavier. The need to cum was overpowering but he did not want this to go too fast.

He wanted to stay in the moment. Stay with her mouth on him. Her hands on him. Her eyes fixed in absolute pleasure. He was used to women doing this shit as if it were a chore. As if it were something they thought he wanted in order to please them back. He wasn’t selfish. He didn’t want them to do anything they didn’t want to do.

But what a fuckin’ difference when he got with a real head hunter. He gave her all of his moans, all of his encouragement. Sweat poured down his temple. He watched and felt her work him, a near feeding frenzy.

He thought about baseball, the DMV, LA traffic, anything to keep this climax at bay. But then she sucked hard enough to sting and he threw his head back once more. “Shiiit,” he groaned.

His powerful climax hit the back of her throat. She hummed around it, swallowing every last drop. She continued to suck him, wringing it all. He fed her and wished he could cum again just to the sound of her humming around his dick.

He heaved as she released him, inch by slow inch, and finally let him go with a wet pop. Her eyes were closed as she licked her lips. The lipstick was a little smudged and he groaned. Fuck. He wanted to go again already. But he’d never quite had the soul sucked out of him like that. He needed a moment to calm down, to get his bearings.

“You beautiful boy,” she whispered, more to herself. He watched the emotions play out on her face as she wiped the corners of her mouth and sucked on her finger.

“You talk about me being nasty,” he said.

The librarians didn’t do it like this back in LA. Maybe he needed to frequent the bookstore more. Find the quiet girls. Those were some closet freaks. Shy as hell though. Still might be worth looking into.

The Librarian chuckled and got to her feet. She moved away but Tyrone grabbed her hand. “Wait, lemme return the favor,” he said.

“That’s okay, baby. I got what I wanted,” she said. Her eyes were too narrow for him to catch her meaning. She caressed his face, those long nails sending arrows of lust straight to his dick.

“Please,” he said and licked his lips. It wasn’t in him to leave a woman unsatisfied while he got off scott-free. He ain’t never begged for pussy. But dammit he wanted it. If her pussy was anything like her head game, he’d have to consider moving here. Maybe getting out of the game would be worth it.

“That’s okay, baby. Really,” she said. She moved her hand from his face and he grabbed her again. He kissed the back of it and then flipped it over to kiss her palm. He left wet kisses on her wrist and up her forearm.

“Let me taste you,” he said. “Please?”

She smirked at him. “What about your friends?”

“Fuck ‘em. They ain’t my kids,” Tyrone said.

She chuckled and raised her eyebrow at him. He shook with restraint. Anyone else and he’d bulldoze his way in. Talk all kinds of nasty shit in their ear to get them to spread their legs. But she was different. She drove him wild.

His skin was feverish. Desperate. He had to have her. There was no way he would leave without tasting her and seeing what made her squirm. What made her scream.

“Come on then,” she said. She said it like she didn’t believe him. That he couldn’t pleasure her. He wondered if some boonie fuck got to fuck her. If she was comparing them. He’d make sure she remembered him.

Tyrone stood up from the chair as she stood facing him, inching her skirt up her thighs and revealing that she, in fact, did not wear panties. He groaned as he watched her. She sat on the desk and spread her legs for him. For him.

He sauntered closer, running his fingers through her soaking folds. He dropped his head to his shoulder and groaned.

“You gon’ kill me,” he said.

She chuckled and ran her hands across his shoulders. She kissed his cheek. “Never,” she said.

He lifted his head high enough to kiss her. The smell and taste of her made him bolder. He slipped his fingers inside of her, pumping her, seeing how much of him she can take. He slipped in with ease and he felt her clench around his fingers.

Pride swept through him that she was so wet for him. He kneeled down, placing one of her legs over his shoulder. He kissed her pussy, inhaled the scent of her. He groaned in satisfaction and feasted on her.

He went in fast, flicking her clit. “Oh shit,” she said. Her hands gripped his shoulder. Her thighs squeezed his head and he went faster, flicking that little nub until it was nice and swollen.

“Right there, right there,” she panted. Her voice rose in octaves. He kept it up, giving her exactly what she needed. He used his thumbs to open her up wider. Her juices coated the entire lower half of his face.

He dug in, licking and flicking, sucking, and moaning. She tasted so damn good, so damn divine. “That’s right, eat it, baby,” she encouraged.

The praise hit him like a sack of bricks. It spurned him on, wanting to please her. He slipped his fingers back into her pussy, curling them and rubbing her spongy wet walls until she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but murmur and coo and grip his cornrows roughly.

She tensed before orgasming, twitching and jerking beneath him. He licked up what she gushed out, not ready to give up the ghost. All of her sounds were in the back of her throat. Animalistic, guttural.

He stood up, wiped his mouth, and then entered her before she could draw breath. Her eyes flashed red once more but it was just a trick of the light. He pounded into her ruthlessly.

He moaned and kept going. She was a welcome sheath for his straining dick. Her heated core felt so good, so right, that he became more animalistic himself. He pulled her by the legs to the edge of the desk, supporting her weight, and spearing her.

He wanted to split her in half. He fucked her and her pussy gripped his dick like it had a mind of its own. He’d never met a woman like her. Will never meet another.

She only grew wetter and he slipped and sputtered as he pounded. He kept going, searching and reaching for the deepest part of her.

“Goddamn, you feel so good. So - uh- good,” he said.

She cried every time he went in, her face twisted in that perfect mix of ecstasy and pain. “Oh fuck, oh fuck. Deep-mm-deeper,” she moaned.

He angled his hips and pulled her closer, giving all of himself to her. Her hand was on his chest as if to push him away. But she grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, kissing him. She licked his lips and he lost his rhythm. If she kept shit like that up, he wasn’t going to last.

“Let me cum in this pussy,” he begged. “Let me cum in it.” It was a desperate need. That same primal need to mark her or claim her. To fill her up. Humans lost their super sense of smell many evolutions ago. But he wished that anyone who came across her in the future would be able to smell him on her, in her.

She wheezed as he finally hit a spot deep enough for her. She rocked on his dick as she moaned. Her teeth grew a bit sharper, her nails a little longer, and her eyes a wicked deep shade of red.

Her head was thrown back as he watched the transformation, watched as she seemed to swell with energy. “Fuck me, Tyrone. Fuck me,” she said. Her desk made scraping noises as he pounded into her.

His heartbeat was in tune with his strokes. He wanted to stop, needed to stop, but she felt so good bouncing on his dick. She trained those red eyes on him and smirked.

“Cum in this pussy,” she commanded.

He let go, his climax making his eyes cross. He shouted his release into her, pumping her full of his biggest load yet. He stuffed her full and it triggered her own orgasm. She squeezed his dick and he cried out, hoarse, losing his voice to her. Losing his mind to her.

He slipped out while she laughed and settled onto the desk. “Oh, I could gorge myself on you for years,” she said and cackled, throwing her hands across her chest and hugging herself.

He wasn’t tripping. Her eyes really were fucking red. He pulled his pants back up and backed out of the room. Her cackles followed him.

“Come back any time and see me, Tyrone!”

Tyrone ran down the hallway, her cackling laughter seeming to follow him. He didn’t dare risk a look back. He flew past the door, past Mike and Paul.

“What the fuck!” Paul yelled. No need to be told a thing, Mike and Paul raced after Tyrone. He didn’t stop running. Her laughter was in his head. In his skin.

He ran to the car and hopped in the driver’s side. He yelled for the keys. Paul threw it to him and slipped into the passenger side while Mike just made it into the back.

It was pitch black, not even the street lamps enough to pierce the darkness.

“Anytime.” Tyrone heard in his head. The tires squealed against the pavement as he threw the car in reverse.

Fuck Vegas! If there was one thing he knew, it was how to get the fuck home. He put his foot to the floor of the car and peeled off down the road. He was confused, still a little horny, but all around freaked out.

He swerved onto the freeway and put the night and that crazy bitch out of his mind. But the laughter still followed him all the way home.

&&&

You need some more in your life? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

#megaminds secret files #The Secret Tyrone Files #They Cloned Tyrone smut #Tyrone smut #Tyrone x Black!OC #Tyrone POV #Tyrone x Fem!OC #x Black OC #Halloweek #Happy Halloweek #Spooky smut #Black writers #Black writers of Tumblr

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vintagelasvegas · 24 days ago

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Fremont St, Las Vegas, NV – 1911. Facing west towards 1st, Main. Railroad depot at the end of the street.

Left: Mesquite Grocery (101 Fremont); Thomas Dept. Store on the corner of 1st; Las Vegas Hotel which had its electric sign installed 9/2/11; Hotel Nevada with “Beckley's Men's Furnishings” painted on the east-facing side of the building.

Right: New York Store (20 Fremont), "Groceries" is Boggs Bros. Grocers (22 Fremont); Wharton Pharmacy on the corner of 1st; First State Bank (100 Fremont); hardware store.

Two postcards stamped 9/23/1911 and 11/2/1911.

#1911 #1910s #Fremont & 1st #RPPC

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pixeldistractions · 29 days ago

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She made this camper so cozy. Who would have thought you could bake bread from scratch in a Dutch oven over the campfire? She served blackberry preserves on toast, planted herbs in tiny pots on the counter, then she filled the produce baskets with actual fresh produce. “That’s what they’re there for, silly,” she said. She watched camper hack videos on YouTube—a cutting board over the sink for more counter space. How clever. She noted the dimensions, and he cut it to size for her. She bought string lights to hang under the awning, a decorative citronella candle for the picnic table.

“You shouldn’t buy so much,” he said. “You don’t need to. If you wait, I’ll buy it for you.”

But he couldn’t, not really, not while also fixing the solar panel and manifesting walls out of scraps and sending back money for his boys. She shouldn’t have to wait for her home to feel homey. He wanted her to feel at home here, so he kept quiet and tried not to notice if she went to Target again for throw blankets or rugs, or towel racks and pot holders. He would just unbox the hardware and install it for her.

It was a silly idea anyway that if they lived simply enough, frugally enough, he might provide everything they needed and wanted, and maybe he could imagine himself the exact opposite of the freeloading loser Colette always said he was.

But Jordan did pick up some work. Very good work, actually. He snagged a small contract with a local university, upgrading their dorm plumbing, and that would keep him occupied for a couple of weeks. It was a nice chunk of change, though of course, Colette would want some of it.

Still, he would have enough money to finish the last of the major repairs. Finally. The only thing left was to replace the solar battery converter, ironically, now that they were plugged into the power grid.

The nights were longer now, but still cozy enough in the lower altitudes of Nevada to spend the evenings outside. They had dinner by the sunset’s last light, then they settled in beside the campfire.

“You don’t have to spend all your money on that battery thing,” she said. “I can pay for some of it.”

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll just pick up a couple more jobs.”

He was weird about taking her money, and she wondered why?

“Okay, I need you to talk to me,” she said, hushed, after taking note that Johanna wasn’t paying any attention to them.

He looked startled, like he was in trouble. She smiled. “No, it’s not like that, don’t worry,” she said. “But, there’s something I’ve been wondering about… why don’t you want me to pay for anything?”

His eyebrows raised, lips pinched.

She stroked his fingers while he refrained from answering her question. “You’re my best friend, you know?”

“You’re mine, too,” he said.

“And best friends tell each other things.”

“I’m… embarrassed of it.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“Okay…” An audible swallow, a slight squirm, a deep breath. “I was younger, twenty-two, after my dad died. I was in a lot of trouble with the foreclosure and some credit debts. So when Colette and I got friendly again, I let her help me out with it. But it didn’t stop there. It was like I would never live that down for the rest of my life, like even after I paid her back, no matter how much money, no matter how much effort, no matter that I stayed home with the boys for two whole years while she finished school, I could never pay her back enough to be even. I still can’t.”

“First, that’s really cruel,” Maria said. “Second, I wouldn’t do that to you. Third, it’s only $800, we can go halves.”

“Yeah, it’s only $800, then I can earn that much in three jobs. Will you let me?”

Every time she felt she might have found an opening to confess her terrible secret wealth, the moment proved to be exactly wrong. “Yeah, of course. But next time, I’ll help. Deal?”

“Sure. But you need to let me make it up to you for all those cozy pillows you bought,” he said, smirking now. She was glad to see that startled panic gone.

“Those pillows were nothing,” she said. “I got them in the clearance section.”

She didn’t know how to tell him that the battery converter would make barely a dent in her savings, and she also wasn’t convinced he would see that as a good thing. It seemed important that he paid for this himself. So she would let him. This time.

— “boxes and squares #5.2: come down from the clouds” (2/10)

previously: a freeloading loser // that money is not for spending on your boyfriend

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #sim stories #jordan #maria

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lonestarflight · 4 months ago

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"Sierra Nevada Corporation’s Dream Chaser full-scale engineering test article has been readied for shipment to NASA’s Armstrong Flight Research Center in California for phase two of the flight test campaign that will be conducted later in 2016 in coordination with Edwards Air Force Base. Dream Chaser program upgrades and initial hardware testing were completed at the Louisville, Colorado spacecraft assembly facility, and within the next several weeks, the same Dream Chaser vehicle that conducted the company’s flight test in 2013 will arrive at Armstrong. SNC and Armstrong will begin a series of pre-flight ground evaluations to verify and validate the vehicle’s system and subsystem designs. After successful completion of all ground testing, Dream Chaser will begin its phase two free-flight test. These activities are being conducted through the company’s Commercial Crew Integrated Capabilities Space Act Agreement with NASA’s Commercial Crew Program."

Date: July 28, 2016

NASA ID: KSC-20160728-PH_SNC01_0001

#Sierra Space Dreamchaser #Dreamchaser #Eagle #Engineering Test Article #ETA #Prototype #Sierra Space #Dream Chaser Space System #Lifting Body #Spaceplane #NASA #Commercial Crew Program #CCP #Armstrong Flight Research Center #Edwards Air Force Base #California #July #2016 #my post

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usafphantom2 · 2 months ago

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U.S. Air Force Awards RTX $1 Billion Contract to Upgrade F-22 Sensors

The contract follows the recent news about the tests of new advanced sensors on the F-22 Raptor, which the U.S. Air Force is planning to field quickly as part of the ongoing upgrade program.

Parth Satam

F-22 new sensors contract

An F-22 Raptor takes off from Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada, June 30, 2022. (U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Zachary Rufus)

Amid the acute need for 5th generation fighters in modern combat scenarios against peer adversaries, the U.S. Air Force is looking to upgrade its F-22 Raptor with a series of sensors to make it more survivable and relevant. The service announced on Aug. 29, 2024, the award of a $1 billion contract to RTX‘s Raytheon for new sensors that are categorized as “Group B hardware”, together with spares and support equipment.

“Work will be performed in McKinney, Texas, and is expected to be completed by May 8, 2029,” said the DoD contracts statement. The Aviationist had recently reported that the Air Force was testing new sensors on the F-22 to extend its service life, which would also be applied to the NGAD (Next Generation Air Dominance) family of systems.

That report also quoted Brig. Gen. Jason D. Voorheis, the Program Executive Officer for Fighter and Advanced Aircraft, who said they were hoping to field these sensors faster. The Raptor team had conducted six flight tests to demonstrate the advanced sensors.

“The F-22 team is working really hard on executing a modernization roadmap to field advanced sensors, connectivity, weapons, and other capabilities. We’re executing that successfully, and that will lead to […] a rapid fielding in the near future.” This would be done through a Middle Tier Acquisition (MTA) program.

Some of the sensors included in the contract could be the stealthy pods seen on the F-22. Air and Space Forces earlier quoted officials who confirmed that the pods host IRST (Infrared Search and Track) sensors. The development of a new IRST sensor for the Raptor was also confirmed by the service’s 2025 budget request, which however did not mention the sensor being podded.

This work is part of an F-22 improvement campaign that calls for $7.8 billion in investments before 2030, which includes $3.1 billion for research and development and $4.7 billion in procurement.

An F-22 Raptor with the Air Combat Command F-22 Raptor Demonstration Team performs a flyover and air demonstration at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colo., Aug 13, 2024. (U.S Air Force Photo by Trevor Cokley)

F-22’s future in the U.S. Air Force

The development is also in contrast with previously reported USAF plans to retire the older F-22 airframes, for which it had sought approval from the Congress. These F-22s are 32 Block 20 units from a total fleet of 186. At the same time, the service aims to upgrade the remaining 154 with new cryptography, an expanded open architecture, new weapons and an advanced threat warning receiver, beside the IRST.

However, the service now appears to be reconsidering that plan, after Voorheis was quoted in the ASF report: “From an F-22 sunsetting perspective, I don’t have a date for you.” “What I can tell you is that we are hyper-focused on modernization to sustain that air superiority combat capability for a highly contested environment for as long as necessary,” he added.

IMAGE 3: A U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptor assigned to the 3rd Wing takes off above Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska, Jun. 17, 2024. (Image credit: USAF/Senior Airman Julia Lebens)

The U.S. Air Force describes the Raptor as a combination of stealth, supercruise, maneuverability, and integrated avionics, designed to project air dominance, rapidly and at great distance. Initially introduced as an air-superiority-only asset, the F-22 later started performing both air-to-air and air-to-ground missions.

The F-35 is largely a strike fighter and an airborne sensor-fusion and data-processing capable command post in its tactical orientation. But the Raptor is a pure air dominance interceptor. Although costly to upgrade and maintain, it nevertheless can play an important role in degrading adversary air power through either long-range BVR (Beyond Visual Range) and dogfights.

Moreover, having F-22s also increases the number of LO (Low Observable) aircraft in the inventory, at least until more F-35s are available, especially the TR-3 (Technology Refresh-3) Block 4 upgraded variants.

In 2021 too, then Air Force chief General Charles Q. Brown Jr. revealed his “4+1” fighter plan, suggesting the F-22 to be replaced by the NGAD while retaining the F-35, F-15E and EX, and the F-16. The “plus 1” was the A-10, but in March 2023, Brown said the A-10s were being retired faster than expected and the entire fleet would possibly be divested by 2030.

Meanwhile the NGAD’s future itself is uncertain after U.S.A.F have noted its technical complexity and financial implications. The F-22 thus seems to be back in the running.

On Jul. 10, 2024, Air Combat Command chief Gen. Kenneth Wilsbach said during a Mitchell Institute event that the service has no official plan to retire its F-22 Raptors. “Right now, there’s…frankly isn’t an F-22 replacement and the F-22 is a fantastic aircraft,” said Wilsbach. “I’m in favor of keeping the Block 20s. They give us a lot of training value, and even if we had to in an emergency use the Block 20s in a combat situation, they’re very capable.”

F-22 Indonesia

U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptors assigned to the 27th Expeditionary Fighter Squadron, conduct Dynamic Force Employment operations at I Gusti Ngurah Rai Air Force Base, Indonesia, on Aug. 6, 2024. (U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Mitchell Corley)

Other known F-22 upgrades

Other upgrades mentioned in the 2025 budget request are a Mode 5 Identification Friend or Foe (IFF), Link 16, a Multifunction Information Distribution System Joint Tactical Radio System (MIDS JTRS), a new Operational Fight Program, advanced radar Electronic Protection and an Embedded GPS/Inertial Navigation System (INS) Modernization (EGI-M).

Voorheis also mentioned the GRACE (Government Reference Architecture Compute Environment) software that would allow “non-traditional F-22 software” to be installed on the aircraft and provide “additional processing and pilot interfaces.”

A new helmet is also being tested, as part of the Next Generation Fixed Wing Helmet program to replace the current 40-year-old HGU-55P headgear. The new helmet would also allow the introduction of helmet-mounted devices which provide essential flight and weapon aiming information through line of sight imagery, easing the workload of the pilots.

About Parth Satam

Parth Satam's career spans a decade and a half between two dailies and two defense publications. He believes war, as a human activity, has causes and results that go far beyond which missile and jet flies the fastest. He therefore loves analyzing military affairs at their intersection with foreign policy, economics, technology, society and history. The body of his work spans the entire breadth from defense aerospace, tactics, military doctrine and theory, personnel issues, West Asian, Eurasian affairs, the energy sector and Space.

@Theaviationist.com

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gravedigest · 6 months ago

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From @just-a-vibing-sock

Lol yeah, no, that world is hell.

Spoilers for the first part of Doing Something? If anyone is going to the fic from here, IG.

The cops are more interested in cosmetics than discussing the guy that just got shot in a high end restaurant, traumatizing an entire dining room of people.

I mean it’s a bunch of rich people, they can go have the event scrubbed from their memory by some highly trained professional. It’s fine. They probably have insurance for that.

And if they don’t, they can go sell that memory for big dollars because hey, wanna see Nevada’s Most Wanted get nuked by some scrawny security guy?

But with your other tags, yeah. If Victor were anyone else, Deimos would probably have wound up like Tricky, failing in an alleyway. Just some dumb jackass who was clearly messing with unregulated hardware, the only people that look into that kind of thing are the conspiracy theorists and other hackers who dance around the deaths of one of their own like crows investigating a dead bird, “How’d that happen? What caused it? What limits were hit and how do we avoid that?”

Maybe Victor being just kind of an unmodified dude lets him be more aware of his surroundings, has a bit more empathy ‘cause he’s not logged into anything. Still sees Deimos as a guy to be sort of envious of despite everyone else looking down on him for running so poorly, just imagine what he’ll be like when they can afford to fix him up.

Like, until Deimos is doing some serious IRL y’know. Crime. Like. Yeah.

But before that, he’s Victor’s dumb but well-meaning roommate who has some problems.

Maybe he’s an annoying little dickhead sometimes, maybe the absolute worst shit comes out of his mouth, but those aren’t the things Deimos gets judged on when he’s outside, that’s what Victor gets to see from actually living with him. Victor gets to be fed the fuck up with Deimos because he has to sit and debate the man on the merits of watching Sports. It’s fun to watch, Deimos. Shut the fuck up. No, don’t go Pepe Silvia on me, get off the Big Entertainment forums you chronically online gremlin and let me watch the nu-olympics in peace. … Unless you need something, okay?

They’re both doin’ their best.

#Deimos is like having a dog with extra steps that people don’t get so weird about when you bring him with you to work.#Yeah that’s my roommate he’s a freelancer can he use the wifi?#I don’t want to leave him home alone he might chew on the furnitu- He Has Some Serious Medical Conditions.#It probably helps that Deimos just adores Victor so so much.#I think my favorite thing I’ve written between them is still the ‘I saw your brain. It’s tiny.’ line #If you’ve ever been stuck in a hospital and had a friend visit who can make a silly joke in that situation. It makes it a lot better.

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smreine · 2 years ago

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The scariest plant I know

Let me tell you something about a plant named Kalanchoe daigremontiana, also known as Mother of Thousands, or (appropriately) more ominously Devil's Backbone.

I believe Devil's Backbone is a legitimately scary plant. The scariest plant I've ever encountered.

The first thing you should know is that it's toxic. It contains cardiac glycosides, and big doses can kill pets, livestock, and small children...in theory. Fatal doses are incredibly rare. But I can't imagine it's very much fun to consume cardiac glycosides and stay alive, either.

There are many more toxic plants, but Devil's Backbone is also difficult to contain: every single scallop around its edge will make babies. You can see a few are still attached. Most are in the soil, already establishing new roots, which will produce more plants with scalloped edges, each of which will...you guessed it.

Babies are small and lightweight. They travel easily. They will fill the pots of your other plants. They will jump on your clothes to go outside.

So you can't really contain this poisonous plant...unless you're ready for it.

Surely, everyone who owns Devil's Backbone is ready for it, right?

Ha ha! The scariest thing of all is that you can find Kalanchoe daigremontiana and its close cousin, K. delagoensis, at pretty much any major chain hardware store that also sells plants. You can find much-prettier variegations than this. They're so attractive! Especially when they flower.

There is no warning about the toxicity or prolificity of this plant in the places where it sold. NONE. (There are a lot of very toxic plants sold with no warning. For instance, lilies can cause kidney failure and death for house cats within hours of taking a single sniff of the pollen. If you knew that, you didn't learn it from the store where you bought lilies.) (NEVER have lilies in the house if you have cats. EVER.)

Anyway, I have been scared of Devil's Backbone for a long time, so I've never stopped thinking about it, and become progressively obsessed, and now here we are.

I bought myself a Devil's Backbone.

It came from TX, around 1700 miles away. The package got lost on its route to me. It took two weeks to arrive in the coldest winter Nevada has experienced for years. I fully expected to open the box and find a dead black frozen plant! I was at peace with this outcome: "Perhaps Fate is telling me I should not have gotten this cursed plant," I thought to myself. "I accept the Judgment of Fate."

When my keys first penetrated the box's tape, I was struck by the strongest botanical scent. I was convinced that was the scent of rot.

I kept cutting.

I found the box brimming with cotton, packed totally full. As I pulled the cotton away, the babies started dropping. Little green cardiac glycoside bombs on my counter everywhere. Still green. Many rooted.

And within the cotton, a slightly cold, little shriveled, but mostly healthy Devil's Backbone.

Fate might have said "You don't want this," but the Devil herself said, "Oh, you want me. You know you want me."

(I will be raising this plant inside a fishbowl with vented lid. That's my plan for keeping her contained safely from my plants, where I can admire her dangerous beauty at no risk to my pets.)

#plants #kalanchoe #devil's backbone #houseplants #succulents

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broken-clover · 6 months ago

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Solaxl Week- Day 3

Ooookay so apparently I completely forgot to put up day 3...woops. Suppose I should have double checked. At least it means I can post back to back!

Not much in the way of notes on this one, I'm just very certain that in addition to their musical nostalgia Sol and Axl are also annoyingly fond of 80's movies and think there hasn't been anything better since. Also slightly poking fun at myself for the fact that I always confuse Footloose and Dirty Dancing for each other

3. Pirate AU, Domestic, Movies

Axl had quite literally dropped in, as he was prone to do. One minute, Sol is content with his evening plans of drinking beer and doing fuck-all, the next he’s playing host. How things play out depends on his mood at the time. Axl’s gotten good at pacifying his bad moods, but not perfect. One wrong step has him getting thrown out to bother someone else.

To compensate, he’s gotten pretty good at bringing the party favors.

“Chiiiiiief~” Sol could hear the smile on his face, even if it was hidden. There was an armful of something burying the lower half of his head. “Lookit what I gooooot!”

A mix of intrigue and pity had the man lighten his uninvited guest’s load. Stacks of something hard and plastic, rattling when shaken. Just unfamiliar enough after a long stretch of time that Sol wasn’t certain he was looking at what was right in front of him.

“Are these…DVD’s?”

Axl’s grin was even bigger after he wasn’t drowning in video cases. “Hit the bargain bin while I got stuck in Nevada! Classics ‘re classics, but you can get ‘em cheap. I know yer a softie for old music, how’s about old movies?”

Well, he supposed it beat drinking alone. Again.

But of course, they couldn’t just immediately jump into it. Accidental or not, Axl had made one of his better choices crashing into Sol’s emporium of tech garbage. Buying up a heap of cheap movies was all fine and good in the turn of the millennium, not a century later. Heck, they would have been pushing it even if it had only been twenty years after the fact. Re-releasing barely-changed tech every other year that only worked with specific hardware for the sake of selling more units, that fun little facet of capitalism was still fucking them over even a century and a half later. The two of them were stuck spending the better part of an hour sifting through parts.

“Does this bit go to a CD or a DVD player…? Bleedin’ hell, how’m I supposed to tell the damn things apart??”

“Mph. I got the wrong kind of connector. Lemme see if I got something upstairs…”

Even if he wasn’t the most enthused at first, having to go to all the trouble just to watch it made movie night feel like much more of a reward. Sol turned over the cases individually, trying to determine what to watch first.

“Gah, you’re takin’ too long! Y’know we can watch ‘em all, right?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Sol replied. “Fine, let’s start with ‘Back to the Future’...uh, that ain’t gonna hit too close to home, will it?”

Axl found a spot on the nearest comfy seat. “Aw, pish. If anything, it makes me feel seen, y’know?”

He did not, but he chose not to pursue that conversation further. That sort of thing could easily turn into an hours-long ramble. Instead, Sol settled for putting the disc in their newly assembled reader. After a few thumps on its side, the machine began to hum.

“Damn, honestly impressed, here.” Axl watched as his companion found another spot to sit close by. “Wasn’t sure we’d be able to pull it off. Gah, this is awesome! Can’t think of a better way to spend an evening with ya-”

Sol picked up the remote and spiked the volume. “At this rate, I’m not even gonna be able to hear any of this. You’d better not talk over the whole damn thing.”

Despite that, once the plot had started rolling, Sol found himself more amenable to conversation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a movie night. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something so mundane with friends. The memory was so close yet so distant.

Axl had made himself more than comfy in his chair. While his legs draped over one armrest, he propped himself on the other with both arms tucked under his ribs. Were Sol to try and describe it in words, the first thing that came to mind was ‘a very smug cat-mermaid.’ Yeesh, the guy had awful posture. Maybe Sol shouldn't have passed judgement on other people’s habits, but other people didn’t have Gear cells to make up for their shitty spinal health.

“Man…” Axl half-muttered, untucking one arm to balance his chin on his palm. “The eighties had some good flicks.”

“Guess you made a good call after all. Are all of these from then?” Asked Sol.

“Eh, most of ‘em.” Replied Axl. “Figures that’s prolly what you grew up on, thought I’d get nostalgic- ‘n yeah, before you ask, I did get ‘Flash Gordon’ too. Knew you’d like the Queen songs”

The Gear made a noise of approval. “Not bad, Low. Guess I owe you one for that. Been listening to the same recording for decades, might be cool hearing a different one, even if it’s the same song. Kids these days dunno what they’re missing.”

The two went quiet as the Delorean slowly drove out of the truck and into full view for the first time. Axl whistled. “Still love that bit. I dunno, though, chief. I mean, not like we didn’t have some shit movies, too, y’know?”

“How’s that?” Sol said, taking his eyes off of the screen for the first time in a while. “Guess there was some schlock, the real cheap stuff-”

“Not even the cheap stuff! Like, ‘Dirty Dancing.’”

“...what?”

Axl shrugged. “‘Dirty Dancing’ was trash. Sorry, chief, but I gotta be honest-”

“Shut up. Are you kidding me?” The movie playing was well and truly out of his thoughts as he gawked. “I figured even if you thought the plot was crap, you’d think Jennifer Grey was hot enough that the story didn’t matter.”

“Which was she, was she the lead? Eh, doesn’t matter. Like, look, I can excuse some real corny shit, but like…’ohhh, we’re gonna ban fuckin’ dancing because it’s too sinful, that’s just dumb. I got limits, too.”

Sol was continuing his staring, but a new emotion had joined it. ”...Are you sure you’re thinking of the right one?”

“Yeah, remember? That’s why it was called ‘Dirty Dancing.’ The reply came with gestures for emphasis.

“No, it was called that because they were a bunch of scruffy-looking jackasses. Pretty sure the one you’re thinking of’s ‘Footloose.’”

“No way, chief! Footloose was the one with Costner, wasn’t it?”

“No, that was ‘Dances With Wolves.’”

“For real? Nah, you’ve gotta be fucking with me. You’re fucking with me, right? Great, and I didn’t get ‘em, so it’s not like I can check-”

A noise made both men turn to the neglected screen. Marty was stumbling out of the crashed van in the barn, undisturbed by the audience’s squabble.

“Ugh, damn it, we missed one of the best parts.” Sol picked up the remote and put the film in reverse. “Can’t remember where we were, haven’t seen this movie in too long. Gonna just skip back to the bit with Einstein.”

Axl readjusted himself in his seat, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Why were there so many eighties movies about dancing?”

#frog writes #guilty gear #sol badguy #axl low #solaxl #solaxl week 2024 #...ish

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