#totally made him look like a sexy librarian | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine:

Warnings: Smut, Switch!Erik, Professor Erik, Librarian Kink, Foot Fetish, Foot Mistress, Role Play, Foot Job

Why the feet?

It’s believed foot fetish guys enjoy the total submission of a nice cute or sexy pair of feet because, first, the feet represent the "lowest" part of a female yet have a very distinctive feminine quality. That feminine quality separates their feet from guys' feet. They are the ones who have the smaller more dainty features, they wear toe nail polish, or nylons, heels, and so forth.

As stated, guys who are aroused by feet, are sexually excited by the submission they feel in themselves for being aroused in the first place. It’s also believed the proverbial "worship at someone's feet" or "kneeling at someone's feet" show that total submission as in the traditional "dominant vs. submissive" relationship. Subconsciously, guys that have a foot fetish, want to be dominated by a girl's feet. They want to be close to them and will do anything they can to please them. This is why most foot guys love to "worship" a pair of cute feet. Using all their senses, whether its sight, smell, touch, taste, or even hearing heels clicking across a hard floor, they can't help but relate that to their sexual impulses. This is why, It’s said that guys get really kinky when it comes to feet and some even go over the top…

We girls need to remove the stigma that a guy who likes feet is weird or a pervert. Nothing could be further from the truth. If he loves feet, is that any different than if he loved your breasts, or vagina, or ass? Sure it's not a traditional "sexual" body part but that just means it's not traditional to us. We girls might not think like that, so therefore we might think it's strange. Is it any stranger than if we liked big dicks, or nice smiles, or big thighs, or tight asses, or muscular bodies? Absolutely not. If a guy likes your feet, then flaunt them. A guy's number one sexual sense is sight. He likes what he sees. We wear tight pants, low cut tops, wear makeup, show skin along with many other visual apparel, so let's show off our sexy feet as well and don't discriminate against a guy who might find them sexually appealing…

Camille believed that feet can intensify a man’s sexual gratification and his orgasm, he will be a much happier mate and at what price to women? He will in turn intensify their sexual gratification. Camille remembers watching television in her bed and had a boyfriend, fuck her feet and have a powerful orgasm. She really didn't have to do anything but let it happen. She even made him get his own lotion and a towel. Her point is, he wants to do that stuff so why not let him? He wants to be totally submissive to her feet. She could tell a man to go clean the kitchen before he is allowed to fuck her feet and it’ll be done in a matter of minutes. She’s not suggesting, if he is totally selfish and wants no connection with you or isn't interested in pleasing you sexually, then we should give into his fetish. She’s saying, using your feet can be a win/win situation with pleasing your man and help satisfy that sexual craving along with keeping some control.

Canille starts by keeping her feet looking good.

The first step in using her feet as part of her sex life is cleanliness. You need to keep your feet clean and bathed. Now, she knows some guys like "dirty" feet but there are two types of dirty feet and the type that foot fetish guys enjoy are the ones that have some wear or dirt on the bottoms not the kind that are unclean. "Unclean" is if you haven't showered in two days and "dirty" is if you have some dark wear from your flip flops or they are sweaty from wearing your boots at work. Cleanliness also keeps your feet sanitary and that is important because if he is a licker or sucker, he will stay healthy.

The second step in preparing to use her feet as part of her sex life is grooming. You must have well-groomed and presentable feet. The toenails need to be prepared and they need to be sexy with polish, French tips, or just naturally shown. Your toenails should be trimmed neatly and without fungus or discoloration. Your feet need to be smooth and without blemishes such as callouses or bumps. Make your feet just as desirable as any other part of your body and to do this you need to put time in your feet with pedicures and products just as you would with anything else. A guy really appreciates and is aroused by the effort made in keeping your feet in good shape.

The third step in using your feet as part of your sex life is flexibility. No, she’s not referring to the ability to stretch but about adapting your feet to your guy's taste. For your lover to truly enjoy your feet, you need to simply, adapt your feet to "what he likes." Camille knows that guys with a foot fetish are very specific in their "likes." Those specifics can range from particular colors of nail polish, to certain shoes, heels, socks, nylons, etc.

No one knew Camille was a foot model for her kinky smut blog where she posted her feet for tips. It was like a part-time job creating content and with the type of shoes she wore on a daily bases, she needed to. So-Kate pumps and sandals with a heel most days. On Friday’s she wore flats or flip-flops. Camille is a full-time Librarian and Archivist for the George Peabody Library in Baltimore, Maryland. It’s a free public library, with lecture series, music conservatory and art collection dedicated to the citizens of Baltimore.

Knee length pencil skirts and a tucked button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up or a pencil dress is what Camille mainly wore. She kept her curly hair styled in either a sleek, tight bun or half of it pinned up with a claw clip. Camille had five different pairs of glasses to choose from for the week and on Friday’s she always wore her favorite—Tortoise shell cat eyed frames. It felt so relaxing in that Library. Surrounded by the scent of old books, silence, and lighting made her feel at piece.

It’s 3:30pm and Camille just finished her lunch break. She had a Mediterranean chicken pita sandwich and an apple juice. She made it back into the Library just in time before the predicted afternoon downpour finally began. The rain blanketed the streets in heavy pellets and each time someone would enter the library, the scent of the showers would flow in along with a calming breeze that eased her mind as she sat behind her help desk reading her own book. Camille was three chapters into Fingerprints of the Gods: The Evidence of Earth’s Lost Civilization when the doors to the library opened again, a familiar face grabbing her attention. He used his suit jacket as a shield from the rain as best as he could but his crisp light blue button down had wet droplets along the back. He rubbed his luxury black loafers against the large oriental rub before finally entering the quiet, dry library.

Resting his suit jacket over his left arm, a computer bag on his right shoulder, he sauntered over to Camille’s help desk with a warm, porcelain smile and charming dimples. His big, dark brown eyes shielded behind grey Gucci eyeglasses reminded her of whiskey the way the over-head lights shines within his orbs. His locs are neatly braided back with a fresh twist and line-up. He always smelled like cedar, tree moss, and vanilla—striking the right balance between musky and sweet. He accessorized with a black sapphire ring on his right ring finger and a flashy silver Rolex on his left wrist. Camille placed her bookmark between the pages and stood up from her seat, adjusting her black, squared Calvin Klein eyed glasses. His cognac eyes swept over her from head to toe—admiring the half up, half down style of her naturally curly hair and the black claw clip that matched her eyeglasses, the white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, down to her waist where he could make out a black, runched pencil skirt. What he couldn’t make out were the black nylons she wore and the black suede pumps on her feet.

“Hey, Camille,” He greeted her with that same smile, “How’s my favorite librarian doing?”

Camille stared at him over the top of her glasses with a grin that made the apples of her cheeks pop, “I’m doing great, Erik. Have a good day at work?”

Erik is a professor at Johns Hopkins University with a doctorate in Engineering.

“It was…eventful. You know the first week back to college is always an adjustment. I gotta get a head start on grading these end of the week assignments. Figured I could chill here and get most of it down before I head home.”

“Why not do it in your office?” Camille questioned.

Erik cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes at Camille playfully.

“What?” Camille tucked her chin bashfully.

“You know this is my favorite place to be. And I get to see my favorite person.”

Camille dropped her gaze to her feet. Erik folded his arms on the desk and leaned in closer so he could peek over the desk. His eyes took in the site of her long, shapely legs covered in pantyhose and the black heels on her feet. Someone was approaching the help desk so Erik lifted away and turned to leave. Camille exhaled a rattled breath before gaining her composure and putting on a professional smile to assist.

Twenty minutes went by and Camille decided to start putting away books. She came from behind her desk and walked across to the other side of the library where the study area is. Her heels click-clacked along the marble floors until they reached carpet that silenced her footsteps. Grabbing a cart, she moved around to empty tables, clearing books. She pushed the cart between tables and when she neared the front she could see Erik sitting at his usual table, typing on his MacBook. From where he’s seated, he could look straight across at Camille behind her desk from the side. That thought alone made her stomach do somersaults. Camille watched him in his element discreetly while attempting to look as if she were working and not being a creep.

It was obvious that Camille liked Erik a lot. What shocked her was that he hadn’t asked her out yet. It’s always the same interaction—run-ins at the library. They would talk about anything, even things Camille knew very little about as far as Erik was concerned but she just loved to hear his voice and watch him talk. It was mesmerizing. She imagined kissing him between the stacks or lying across his favorite desk while he—

“Camille?”

Erik somehow found his way to her while she was daydreaming, a book suspended in her hand when she was supposed to place it on a shelf. Her light brown doe eyes blinked at him and she adjust her eyeglasses with one finger since it had slipped down the bridge of her nose.

“Y-yes?” Camille finally spoke with a shaky breath.

“You okay?” Erik asked with an elevated brow.

“Just—just a little tired.”

Camille slid the book onto the shelf carefully before pushing along to finish the job.

“I bet your feet are killing you.” Erik said.

Somehow his words made her realize just how sore her feet really are.

“Yes…I’ve been up on my feet a lot today. Guess I didn’t think that through.”

“Hm,” Erik’s eyes dipped down to stare at her feet, “Why don’t I help you do this and you go relax for a little bit, yeah?”

“Erik, I’ll be okay, really,” Camille touched his forearm gently, “Just a few more books and I’ll be right back behind my desk.”

Erik frowned slightly, “You just—you do so much around here already. It’s like you work this place all by yourself.”

“Only the main floor and the basement archives,” Camille giggled, “Seriously, I’ll be fine. Go finish grading your assignments, Professor.”

Camille poked Erik in his left pectoral and the rigidity there stunned and aroused her. She hoped he hadn’t noticed how flustered that small action made her feel.

“Aight, girl. I’ll be right there if you need me.”

Camille gave Erik a shy nod and then a flirtatious smile. She ran the front of her heeled left foot up her right calve and just like that Erik’s eyes dropped to her feet. Camille noticed straight away and she slowly placed her foot down on the carpet, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. He blinked twice and rapidly, as if he were caught in some sort of a trance.

“I—I have to finish—finish putting away these books.”

Camille slipped past Erik with her cart in tow and she could still feel his eyes trained to the lower half of her body.

Freshly showered, body rubbed down with massage oil, Camille sat in the middle of her queen bed within her apartment in Federal Hill, snapping pictures of her pretty, pedicured toes. All white, gold anklets, floral ankle tattoo, and the perfect arch sent her followers into a frenzy.

You have such beautiful feet

That arch is perfect

I wonder how they taste

Step on me

I want to suck on your toes

I bet they smell like vanilla

The soles of your feet are the sexiest I’ve ever seen

Massage my dick with those

Camille is a foot fetish mistress. She charges $250 per hour for one-on-one video chat and VIP pictures but never agreed on in-person meet-ups. Camille never shows her face, only the neck down. It was safer for her to do everything online versus face-to-face.

What started it all was an innocent occurrence with her ex one evening. He was at the end of her bed fondling her socked feet. Her socks were recently slipped on my size 9 feet after a bath.

Camille used to hide her feet. She had no idea how many guys liked feet until she met her ex . He said her feet are perfect, for him at least. She has a nice arch, and toes that go across from big to small at a very straight angle but not too sharp of an angle either. If you are a foot lover you likely understand. Her nail beds are deep, nails painted white, clipped quite tidy and short or with acrylic. The plumpness of her toes seem to be exactly right as there are no gaps between her toes, creating cute toe cleavage when she has the right shoes on.

She missed the feel of lips and skillful hands on her feet. Camille is only partially fulfilled with her desires but what she really wanted was a man to worship her feet often and she was very selective of that. She didn’t want just any man kneeling before her, nibbling, kissing, and sucking on her toes. Tomorrow was Friday and she decided to wear some heeled sandals instead of her usual flats. Something about the way Erik looked at her feet made her crave for him to do it again and the only way he could really get a good look was for her to wear open-toed heels that accentuate the arch of her foot. There heels can’t have a strap around the ankle, they have to be mules, so she can slip her foot in and out of them to tease him. If her suspicions are correct, Erik has a foot fetish. No other man would openly and longingly stare ate her feet the way he did without a foot fetish.

Camille settled down for the evening and sleep overtook her body in less than five minutes. She slept in until 8:30am and took a cold shower to wake her up. After brushing her teeth and doing her morning facial routine, Camille got dressed and decided to grab breakfast on her way into work at 3 Bean Coffee. Traffic was light and she made it seven minutes before 10:00am. There was a small rush for an hour but things calmed down enough for her to get some things done. Most students don’t occupy the library on a Friday since it’s the start of the weekend. Partying and forgetting about their studies was the main thing on their minds. She spent most of the morning organizing the Library archives. Camille kept checking her phone, hoping for 3:30pm to get here so she could see Erik. Her pencil skirt was a lot shorter today but still conservative enough for dress code, and she wore a sleeveless, olive green satin blouse with a cinched waist to make her curves stand out more.

“You want to grab lunch? That food truck you like so much is parked out front today.”

A coworker and close friend, Sade, approached Camille’s desk around 1:30pm. Sade works the second level of the library where the art history books are.

“Sure, I’ve been craving their salmon wraps for a week now,” Camille closes out her computer, “Just let me grab my purse and I’ll meet you out front.”

Camille disappeared into an office to retrieve her purse. She returned and standing at her desk is Professor Erik wearing casual clothing. She knew he had a class on Friday’s so seeing him at the Library so early startled her. A black polo stretched across his chest down to his tapered waist, medium wash jeans hugged his butt and legs like they were tailored to fit him, and a simple pair of all white sneakers completed the outfit. He accessorized with a simple gold Cuban link chain and a gold Piaget watch. Bespectacled and handsome as always.

“Erik? You’re here early,” Camille couldn’t hide her blush, “Classes ended early today?”

“Unexplainable power outage in my building so classes are canceled for the afternoon. Not complaining though, I could use this time to have lunch and finish some work. You free?”

Camille’s eyes dragged down to his lips then back up to his piercing gaze, “I was just about to grab something from the food truck out front.”

“How about I treat you to lunch and you can eat with me?”

Erik had an expression on his face that told Camille he didn’t want her to say no. The unwavering look and the way he nibbled on his pouty bottom lip was enough to show how badly he wanted her to join him for lunch. A nervous energy crept over Camille’s body.

“…I’d like that, Erik…a lot.” Camille spoke with a soft voice. Almost airy, as if his presence bewitched her.

Erik gave her a dimpled smile, “Cool.”

Camille and Erik exited the Library and joined the small line of working people to grab lunch. Thankfully, Sade saved a spot for her so she wouldn’t have to wait in the back of the line. Each time Erik’s arm would bump into hers, Camille would shiver. Each time he would drop his eyes down to look at her, Camille would feel her chest grow tight. He didn’t have to do much to effect her. Camille wondered if it was the same for him.

“…would you rather have less work or more work you enjoy doing?” Erik questions after finishing his crab platter.

They were seated outside in a picnic area. It was cloudy with a nice breeze. During their lunch date, the would ask each other questions to get to know one another more. Erik asked most of the questions, wanting Camille to open up to him more. She didn’t mind, as long as it was him talking to her.

“More. I love being surrounding by books and reading books. It’s so calming. I would do this for the rest of my life if I could. Just…learning new things and being a part of new worlds when I’m deeply invested into a book excites me.” Camille replied with a sincere smile.

“I can tell you love what you do, Camille. I think it’s really beautiful how passionate you are about your job. I bet you have a big selection of books at your place…a nice little reading nook that you can snuggle into and everything.”

“How did you know? Are you spying on me, sir?,” Camille narrowed her eyes at Erik jokingly.

Erik slightly chuckled, “Hope this doesn’t sound creepy…but I wouldn’t mind spying on someone as beautiful as you, Miss Camille.”

Camille bit her lip.

“You’re gorgeous…from head…to toe,” Erik’s eyes slowly raked over her body.

“Thank you,” Camille replied with a smile. She crossed one of her smooth legs over the other, her foot accidentally knocking into Erik’s shin, “My bad—”

“No worries.”

Erik’s eyes lowered to Camille’s legs and his smile turned into a slight frown and his eyes grew wider. Confused by his change of expression, Camille followed his gaze and discovered that he was staring at her feet…hard. So hard to the point that he was paralyzed. The look on his face made Camille shift in her seat and tuck her feet beneath the chair. She didn’t know if that look on his face meant he was turned off with her feet or if he was aroused by seeing them up close for the first time….

“Erik? You okay?” Camille chuckled nervously.

Erik’s head shot up and he stared Camille dead in her eyes. His brows are furrowed and he was staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

“I—I’m good—what time is it?” He spoke with a shaky voice.

He smoothed the palm of his hands down his thighs, looking down at Camille’s feet again. She noticed how he swallowed spit, lips parted a fraction, his tongue peeking through. Erik shook his head and he raised his Piaget watch to his eyes.

“2:45—”

“Shit, really? I didn’t realize how late it is,” Camille jumped up from her seat, “I have to get back to work.”

“I didn’t mean to hold you up like that, baby girl,” Erik stood to clear the table, “I’ll take care of this, go ahead.”

“Thank you. Still sticking around?” Camille asked while shouldering her purse.

“Yeah, I’ll be in.” Erik said.

Camille gave Erik a slight nod and turned to leave, the staccato beat of her high heels echoing off of the pavement as she walked away. Camille could feel him watching her. Inside, she pondered what could have transpired between them unannounced. Back inside the Library, she stared down at her feet behind her desk. They looked fine. Five minutes later, Erik strolled into the library with a bottle of alkaline water in his hand. He didn’t even turn to wave at Camille, his eyes focused straight ahead at his usual desk. What has him so uptight?

In the middle of typing on her desktop computer, Camille uncrossed her legs to rearrange her skirt which was underneath her uncomfortably. As she moved in her seat, her dangling heel dropped off of her bare foot and clattered onto the marble floor behind her desk.

The library is deathly silent and her heel dropping felt like the loudest sound in the world. She had to scoot back in her chair so she couldn’t reach it. Camille sat forwards, outstretching her foot, wiggling her small toes trying to pinch the strap of the heel and get it back. But it was just out of reach.

Camille looked around and saw Erik staring at her over the top of his MacBook but then it seemed like it wasn’t her directly. He was staring directly at her foot and he did it so openly that he didn’t care if Camille caught him in the act. Erik licked his lips slowly and when Camille moved her foot away to hide beneath her desk, he tore his eyes away and went back to work on his laptop like nothing happened.

This was becoming too much. Camille wanted to push boundaries and see what he would do. The library is damn near vacant, why not toy with him to see how far he’d go? She could end her work day on a good note. Camille made an extra effort to have pretty toes and wear sexy shoes to get his attention and she was not going to let that go to waste. Apparently, Erik would openly watch and he wasn’t subtle about it. It was as if he wanted her to catch him in the act. Camille focuses her attention back on her computer and swiveled in her chair. She kicked her shoes off and when she turned towards him, she would stretch her feet straight out so that the soles of her feet were more or less facing him.

If Professor Erik had been able to keep his stare on the "down-low" before, he certainly couldn't do it now. Camille could hear him groan all the way from her desk and his glare was unmistakable when she peeked at him over the top of her desk. He was so obvious about it and when someone walked past his desk he tried to play it off but it was obvious that he couldn’t contain himself. Camille rested her bare feet back in her heels. She couldn't help but smile to herself.

Camille placed the end of her ball point pen in her mouth, nibbling on it while twirling a piece of her curly hair around her finger. She stared straight ahead at her desktop, but her chair is far enough back so Erik could see her entire body. Camille crossed one leg over the other and with the finger that played in her hair, she teased Erik by lifting her skirt a little, raising the heel of her bare foot to stand on her tip-toes while sitting side ways in her chair. She didn’t have to look at him to know that she was ruining him. One of her knees angled in front of the other added curves to her body. Slowly, she would drag her foot along the other, using her toes to massage the top of her other foot sensually.

She didn’t know how long she’d been doing this, but the sudden and alarming sound of her front desk bell chiming made her aware of Erik’s presence. He stood on the other side of her desk, looking down at her with blazing eyes and his lips set in a hard line. Camille removed the pen from between her glossy, full lips and took it up a notch by pushing her chair away from her desk to slip her feet into her heeled mules before approaching her desk. Erik dragged his bottom lip between his teeth and a slight crease appeared between his brows.

“Can I help you, professor?” Camille asked with a tilt of her head.

“What are you trying to do?” Erik whispered.

“I’m sorry?” Camille questioned.

“…are you trying to tease me, Miss Camille?”

Erik folded his arms over his chest and gave her a hard stare.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Professor. I’m working at my desk. Sometimes, I do things to keep me occupied…to keep me focused.”

Erik looked over his shoulder to check if anyone was near. Camille waited patiently for him to speak, openly eye-fucking him. Erik’s attention was drawn back to her, and he caught her staring him down. He cleared his throat and her beautiful doe eyes raised to meet his again.

“What things?” Erik inquired.

Camille adjusted her eyeglasses, “Just…things that are a habit…like chewing on the end of this pen like this…”

Camille brought the pen to her lips and demonstrated just how much of a habit it is for her. Gently, she took her teeth to bite the end of the pen, her eyes never leaving Erik’s. He watched her nibble on that pen closely; seductively.

“…and I tend to play with my hair a lot too, like this,” Camille took one of the curly strands framing her face and wrapped it around her pointer finger. She did it all the way to the end of her medium-length acrylic nail before releasing it, “I like playing in my hair.” She said with a sing-song voice.

“…is that all you like to do, baby girl?”

Camille’s eyes lifted to the high ceiling in wonder, “Well…I sometimes take me shoes on and off…rubbing my feet up the back of my legs…I do it without even thinking,” Tilting her head, his favorite Librarian coolly appraised him behind those fucking hot glasses of hers, “is there a reason why you’re so interested, Professor?”

Swallowing thickly, cupping his steel hard erection without her knowledge, he nodded, “That tattoo on your foot is really pretty, Miss Camille. And so is the little mole on your left big toe. So unique…”

Erik pressed his body further into the help desk so he could speak closer to Camille, so close she could see his gold caps gleam, “…Foot Mistress.”

Camille’s eyes went round and she gripped the edge of her desk to keep her balance. So, that’s why he stared so hard at her feet during lunch. He recognized her feet! She couldn’t believe her ears. Professor Erik is a regular foot slave on her smut blog. She wondered if he’d tipped her at all. If he’d sent her anonymous messages about how much he loved and adored her feet and the nasty things he wanted to do to them.

Suck on her toes

Lick her soles

Nibble on her heels

Kiss the pads of her toes

Cum on her feet

Receive an oily foot job

Erik exhaled, “I didn’t know what to say…but now that I know it’s you…fuck…I have to have you…I want you bad.”

Camille smiled, “How long have you been my foot slave, Professor?” Camille smoothed one nail along the side of his left arm to entice him.

“A year…a year of dreaming for a chance to have you all to my self…” Erik said.

He quickly checked to see if anyone was watching before leaning over her desk, “Hurry up and show me those pretty feet you were teasing me with earlier. You owe me.”

Camille carefully looked around before taking a few steps back. The back of her legs hit her chair and she took a seat, both of her feet pointed straight out at him. Camille rubbed them together and stretched her soles so he could have a good look at the smoothness of the bottom of her feet. He grunted deeply, bottom lip poked out and eyes low with lust.

“You are driving me crazy,” Erik mouthed.

Camille hummed and gave him a sinful smile that made his dick twitch once again.

“What time do you get off work?” Erik whispered.

“In an hour. Why?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Camille continued teasing Erik with her beautiful feet and it turned her on so much. She used her hands to add to the seduction, dragging her nails along the tops of her feet and between her toes.

“You know why, ma. Let’s stop acting like we both don’t want the same thing. I’ve been trying to get at you for a while now.”

“You have?” Camille raised a brow, “Not once did you offer to take me to dinner.”

“Okay, true, I’m asking you now, can I take you out tonight?”

The smirk on her face widened perceptively, “Yes, you can take me out to dinner, and maybe after dinner, you can get the chance to come back to my place.”

Erik licked his lips and dropped his gaze back to her feet, “Your skin looks so soft… buttery soft," he sighed in pleasure, biting his lower lip, “I’ll pick you up from your place at eight, Miss Camille?”

“Eight is perfect,” She said.

Papi Cuisine on a Friday night was popular amongst locals. Luckily, Erik put in a reservation and he was good friends with the owner as well. Right on time, Erik picked her up at 8:00pm, dressed in a crisp white tee, light wash, slightly distressed denim jeans, all white Nike Airmax on his feet, and two diamond chains. His usual braided back locs took on a new style—side swept. Camille wore an all-black, off the shoulder mini dress with cut outs that stretched perfectly over her body and left nothing to the imagination—breasts, hips, ass, and thighs.

The drive to Papi Cuisine took longer than Erik would have liked and Camille giggled at his moments of road rage when an idiot who shouldn’t be behind the wheel did something stupid. They found free public parking on the busy street and bypassed everyone else who had to wait for a table. A nice booth seat beneath soft, low lighting with jazz music playing set the mood perfectly for a first official date.

Camille heard so many good things about their crab cake egg rolls and Erik’s five star review about them had her mind made up quickly. He said she could order whatever she liked and Camille too that as an invitation to try two appetizers instead of one. The colossal fried shrimp was a win for her. Their waiter—young, Afro Latina girl standing at 5’4 with a short, kinky fro took their order, and brought lemon water and bread to the table. Camille ordered Papi’s Cocktail: caribbean style rum punch with appleton estate, blue curacao, pineapple, lime, served in a whole pineapple. Erik got his favorite; Hennessy Splash: hennessy black, strawberry, accented w lemon & grand mariner.

Owner and Award Winning Chef, Alex Perez, has fused together two cultural styles of cooking, learning from his Dominican father and African American Grandmother. He was then able to fuse both cuisines together and create the Afro-Latin Fusion we all love today. The robust blends of seasoning and sauces with strategic plating, elevates every dish to a flavorful and wonderful delight. Camille couldn’t begin to fathom why she hadn’t tried this place sooner. Erik teased her about eating out at Cheesecake Factory and Texas Roadhouse, missing out on so many different options—black owned at that. He promised to take her to every spot, the next being Water For Chocolate on 1841 E Lombard Street.

They were both eye- fucking each other hard core while they talked and savored their food. Erik couldn’t get over how breathtaking Camille looked. She’d always did something to him dressed up like her everyday Librarian self, but to see her unwind and wear a freakum’ dress and sexy heels turned him on something vicious. She wore her gorgeous curly mane down and zebra-printed eyeglasses. Her rouge lipstick complimented the fullness of her lips and he wanted to lean over the table and taste them for himself.

“When did you realize you had a fetish for feet, Erik?” Camille asked while moving her straw around her drink.

“Damn, mamas,” Erik chuckled, “Straight to it, huh?”

Camille giggled bashfully, “I mean…yeah.”

“I’m just messing wit’ you,” Erik moistened his lips, “Uh…I can’t really put my finger on it, you know? I’ve always been a leg man, love legs. I guess, to see that with those beautiful legs, comes a pretty ass pair of feet, it just does something to me. Especially when they’re all dainty and the toes are done up. It just—it does something to me.”

“I see,” Camille smirked, “most women think it’s weird but I find it highly arousing.”

Erik nodded, “Definitely. When I found your blog, I’ve always wanted to know who you were, but I figured you weren’t interested in meeting up. Who would have guessed you got down like that? So kinky? Well…I always knew you had to be.”

“Oh, really?!” Camille sat up straighter, “Do tell!”

Erik laughed heartily, “The trope of the sexy librarian as an aspect of the American sexual psyche? Doesn’t ring a bell to you?” Erik asked playfully.

“Fantasy wise, yes, I do know about the whole sexy librarian thing,” Camille said with a role of her eyes.

Erik squinted his eyes at Camille before reaching across to grab her hand. She relaxed and allowed him to trace his fingers over the palm of her hand, as if he were learning her. Her thighs pressed together tightly.

“Librarians are sexy…all that knowledge and power over their domain. When you enter a library, you enter as a supplicant. It’s the librarian that strips you bare of your layers of obfuscation and find you what you really came for. Reading is a silent pursuit. When you sit down next to a computer with your nose buried in a book, you don't know if that person is reading some dry text about mergers or something freaky. That passionate interior, hidden by a cool layer of reserve. Aren't books like that? On the shelf, their calm covers belie the intense experience of reading one…reading inflames the soul. Now, what sort of person would be the keeper of such books? Only one way to find out…right?”

His smoldering gaze locked onto hers and Camille lost her cool. He surely had a way with words. Erik realized how he effected Camille and smiled smugly at that. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d sneakily read erotica at her desk. Fantasizing at work about risky library sex. Sex with him.

“You—you sure know how to knock me off my feet, Erik,” Camille placed her stiletto between his legs.

Erik looked down at her white toes and his jaw went tight. Camille sipped her drink and watched him struggle. His fingers swiped lightly over her toes. He did each toe, memorizing the shape and feel. He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them he grinned at her.

“I bet you can’t wait to get back to my place,” Camille spoke with a low register.

Erik’s eyes brightened. When he was finished with her left foot, Camille lowered her leg just in time for the waiter to bring them their food. They settled back into normal conversation, enjoying the remainder of their date before it was time to go. That didn’t stop. Camille however. She kept the fire burning between them by stroking his leg with her foot, pressing her heel between his legs so he could admire her feet, all while having a regular conversation from where he grew up to what his favorite TV show is. Camille learned so much about Erik within an hour and a half.

After dinner, Camille excused herself to the bathroom and Erik waited patiently for her. They ordered dessert and took it to go so they could complete the evening at her place. They listened to the new Kendrick Lamar album while driving with the windows rolled down, vibing and laughing. Finally at her mid-rise apartment, Camille gave him a tour of her inviting, contemporary-style living space inspired by the authentic Federal Hill neighborhood. A three-bedroom apartment with 9-foot ceilings, a stunning kitchen, full-size washer and dryer, handsome wood-style flooring throughout home, spacious en suite master baths with tiled shower surrounds, walk-in closets, and a walk-out patio. One of the bedrooms is Camille’s office and there is her reading nook and bookshelf.

Back out in the living room, they sat down on one of her sofas and enjoyed some wine. Camille stretched to take off her strappy stilettos but Erik offered to do it for her. He brought her feet to his lap and carefully, Erik started to unfastened the straps to her heels. Camille relaxed back into a throw pillow on her sofa and watched Erik take his time removing her shoes. The sight of those petite ankles, the slim width of her feet and their pretty arches, along with those adorably painted toenails made him uncomfortably aware of his growing erection. He'd only ever seen her feet and legs bared up close today. All other times it was from a distance.

With her bare feet now resting in his lap, Erik held the heel of her right foot with one hand, bending all the toes on her right foot back and forth at the same time with the other hand. He repeated this movement, gently increasing pressure and flexing her toes to their full range of motion. Camille’s breath hitched and she closed her eyes to relax. She moaned and Erik grabbed her left foot to do the same. His dick was painfully stretching and pressing against the crotch of his jeans. Throbbing like a stubbed toe and begging to be freed.

“That feels so good,” Camille stared at Erik longingly, “Stretching my toes like that.”

“Yeah?” Erik held each side of her left foot, pulling each side of her foot outward, repeating the motion, allowing her foot to spread, “How about this?” Erik asked with a raspy voice.

“So good,” Camille smiled contently, “You’re really good at that.”

“I can do way better…got any massage oil?”

Camille sat up on the couch and tried to retrieve her foot from Erik so she could grab some oil but he refused to release her.

“Erik, I have to get the oil,” Camille smiled slightly, “Ill only be gone for thirty seconds, okay?”

“Don’t take too long, gorgeous.”

Camille finally sat up and when she swung her legs off of the couch, Erik could see up her dress and he noticed that she was wearing something hot pink and lacey. Mmm.

Camille sped walked to the back of her apartment and opened her toiletry closet and grabbed her favorite scented oil—a warm blend of black cherries, crème anglaise and sandalwood. She returned quickly with a fluffy, white hand towel and the bottle of massage oil, handing both items to Erik before taking her place on the couch again.

Erik swept it up, opened it, inhaled to assure himself of the selection, and then set about pouring it into his hands. “I’m gonna kneel on the floor, turn towards me…yeah, like that,” he instructed. “I don't want to stain your nice sofa with the oil.”

Camille complied, and when her bared calves and ankles came into view, he forced himself to concentrate on putting the bottle on the coffee table and not spilling the oil warming up in the cup of his palm.

“Mind playing some music to set the mood, ma?” Erik asked.

Camille reached for her cell phone and with her phone connected to her Bluetooth speaker, she set her playlist to shuffle and the first song to pop up was Megan Thee Stallion–Red Wine.

I want the dick that make me act stupid (stupid)

I want the dick that make me hate Cupid (yeah)

I want the dick that make me walk bow-legged (baow, yeah)

Freaky, slap the dick on my forehead (ah)

I wanna gag, or get the fuck outta here (outta here)

It ain't that big if I don't shed a tear

I wanna need GEICO, hit that shit from the back (mwah)

Freaky, let him crash in my rear (ah)

This pussy go fah, fah, fah, fah, fah (doo-doo, doo)

End of discussion

Treat this pussy like an opp, shoot it up, keep bustin' (ah, bum-bum)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah)

Give me some time (uh)

Come fuck me, let's get fucked up on this red wine

Taking up her left side first, he began by smoothing the slippery liquid over the golden skin on the top. Once the foot was good and coated, he pressed his thumbs into the bottom of her arch and gently, but with firm pressure, worked his way upwards. His kinky Librarian moaned. Erik tried to ignore how that made his dick jump to attention, focusing on the task –the goal of relaxing her–instead. He repeated the motion with his thumbs three times, working out the immediate kinks before concentrating on kneading her heel next.

“You've done this often,” she stated with certainty.

Erik shrugged. “I 've done it on occasion.”

“Semantics,” she challenged.

“What do you really want to know?” he tested her, reading the implied statement behind her initial one. “Are you asking if I give women foot massages as part of my normal sexual repertoire?”

She was quiet a moment as his thumbs ran circles up the edge of her foot. "Well, do you?"

Erik smirked. “I’m a foot man, but no. Only the special ones get this kind of treatment.”

“…So I’m that special one? Am I the only special one that gets this romantic treatment?”

“You are. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be rough with you either. Do you like it rough, baby?”

“…define rough,” Camille questioned with a seductive tone.

His grin widened as he looked up at her, catching her eye as his fingers teased the sensitive skin between her toes, knowing the reaction that would cause. “Hard, fast fucking in whatever position is most convenient for the time allotted or the space permitted.”

She licked her lips and bravely held his stare. "To answer your question, Professor, yes, I do like it rough.”

Erik massaged her sexy, toned calf with slow, rhythmic kneading, making sure to manipulate each stroke so it felt not just relaxing, but was also blatantly sexual.

“Have you ever fantasized about having sex with me at the library?”

She was quiet for a few moments, and Erik waited patiently for her to answer him.

“Yes. Multiple times.” She finally confessed, “Behind the stacks, and on your favorite desk.”

“Well, we could definitely bring that fantasy to life, if you’re up for the adventure,” Erik gave her a sly smirk with charming dimples.

As he finished up the massage, he put her foot down, wiped his hands off with the towel in his lap, then rose back up on his feet and loomed over her again. Once more, she tipped back an equidistant amount until the leather cushion of the couch would allow her to move no further.

“You have the prettiest feet and legs, Camille, and I could rub them for hours listening to that amazing mouth of yours spew out facts that most of us would find impossible to recall…”

Camille tilted her head up and her hands smoothed up his chest, over his shoulders, and her fingers tangled in his hair instead. Gripping tightly, causing his blood to rush through him from head to toe, she regained her confident command. The kiss was the most perfect Camille had ever received. It was hot, demanding, wet and wanton. It held nothing back, gave and took all, and impossibly promised even more with every pull of lips. She gasped into Erik’s mouth, his mouth smacking against hers with fierce, wild desire. Her tongue thrust crazily in between the gap and tangled up with his, possessing him, boldly declaring that he was hers, that she would rock his world inside out, and at the same time, stated unequivocally that he was her whole world back.

Pulling back, he touched her cheeks softly and gave her his most melting smile.

“Tasty,” Erik said, “I wonder what else on you tastes good.”

Erik sat down and Camille unexpectedly pressed her foot against his right shoulder blade. His body reacted instantly, hardening, flushing with blood. Her foot slid over his shoulder, and now she was pressed against him, her naked calf hanging over his shoulder. Erik’s hands rubbed along her leg and he pressed his lips into the inside of her thigh, trailing down to the side of her left foot.

“Are you my foot slave, Professor?” Camille questioned softly.

“Fuck, yes.” Erik replied.

“Hmm, Let’s see how much of a good little slave you are for my feet…”

Camille lowered her leg and reached for Erik’s hand, guiding him off of the couch and towards her bedroom. On the way, Erik grabbed the massage oil so they could make use of it again. Finally within her master bedroom, the sound of Lucky Daye’s voice fading into the next song, Erik watched as Camille took off her dress like it was an afterthought. She stood before him in nothing but that sexy pink lace, breast full and round with wide, dark brown areolas and big brown nipples. She dragged Erik’s shirt up and over his head, pressing her nose into his chest and then her lips. Her fingers gently trailed down the hard plans of muscle. Erik hummed with pleasure, reaching down to tilt her chin up so he could kiss her lips again. They kissed deeply and passionately, their lips dragging sloppily over the others. Camille ended the kiss with a tug on Erik’s bottom lip with her teeth.

She climbed onto her bed and Erik stepped out of his jeans. With no room for that tool between his legs, he allowed the head of his dick to hang from the bottom of his briefs as he joined Camille on the bed. His lips sought out her neck and as he kissed and licked her there, he breathed in the scented body oil she wore. Fingers tugged his hair somewhat painfully, while at the same time Camille rubbed her toes into his crotch.

Erik reached for her soft, smooth foot. He lifted her right foot up alone by cupping a hand under her heel until it was at his eye level. His free hand came around and rested on the top of that foot up by her toes.

The hand on her toes pushed them down as the hand on her heel raised her foot higher. It seemed as if he was trying to compress her foot by forcing her to point her toes. As he did this, he turned his head to inspect the bottom of that foot. He did the same to the other foot and then both of them together. It was quickly leaving the realm of a "normal" foot massage.

She felt an index finger rake up the bottom of one of her feet. Camille shrieked and jerked that foot away from his hand. She gave him a playful look to let him know it was okay that he tickled her.

“I’m a little ticklish,” Camille pouted her lips, “Plus, they haven’t been touched by a man in a while so…that may have something to do with it,” Camille giggled.

Erik’s brows pressed together, “Well, that's a fuckin’ shame nobody gets to touch your feet because you have such incredibly beautiful feet."

“And what does my foot slave want to do to my feet?” Camille asked.

Without a word being spoken both of her feet were raised to his lips and he planted long, wet kisses up and down the bottoms of her feet. Camille sat back on her elbows and watched him cater to her feet like the good little foot slave he is. She really enjoyed watching the intense look of concentration on Professor Erik’s face while he worshiped her feet. She giggled softly when she felt a warm tongue tickle the bottom of her heel. She let out a little squeal, as the same tongue was now being drug from her heel, up along the arch to the tips of her toes.

Giving her room to catch her breath, Erik took her right foot first, placing it on his left shoulder, he bent his head and began kissing her ankles, moving in slow, wet, deliberate action towards her toes. He licked her arch in a slow rasp, which earned him a small cry of distress from his Camille. Against his thumb, he could feel her pulse speed up in the artery that ran down into her foot. The lust was stirring in her veins, the thought making him smile.

Circling up the pad of her big toe, he wrapped his lips around it and brought it into his moist mouth, playfully running his tongue over it. As he pulled back with a suction, he looked up into Camille’s face, caught her eye, and didn't look away.

His Librarian and Foot Mistress was thoroughly aroused—dilated pupils, rapid breathing, crimson cheeks, lips parted with growing hunger. He licked her second toe, never pulling his gaze from hers, rolling her flesh around with his tongue, and pretending for the moment that he was doing this between her legs, to her tiny, little bead instead. With each toe, he worked her over physically as well as psychologically.

“That’s right, my slave, worship my pretty get for me…mmm…yes…just like that…they taste good?”

Erik hummed his response because his mouth was preoccupied with sucking on her left big toe.

“You’re making my pussy so wet right now, Erik…don’t stop.” Camille moaned.

Upon her orders, her slave applied his tongue to the tops of her feet. He licked her insteps with slow, broad tongue strokes that traverse from the base of her toes to her ankles. The warmth and wetness of his tongue felt wonderful, especially on those areas where the snug straps of her shoes left impressions on her skin. He twisted and groveled to reach other parts of her foot. His tongue laps both her inner and outer ankles, and his lips caress them. Her Achilles tendon is next to receive his attention. He tongues the ligament, presses his open mouth over it, and sucks as he moves his lips up and down its length.

The fun wasn't over yet, though. He repeated the process with her left foot, paying extra attention to suckling and licking over spots that made her body shiver or her muscles jolt. She shivered when he tickled between her toes with his tongue, and when he nibbled just above her ankle joint.

“Did you like that, baby?” he asked, nuzzling her foot with his nose and cheek, “I know I did. You taste wonderful, baby.”

Camille was at a loss for words. She could only nod her head in response, her body from head to toe tingling. Her nipples were granite hard, her pussy is soaking wet, and her clit ached for attention. This is probably the most drenched she’s ever been from foot play.

“Are you thinking about where else I could be tonging you, baby girl?”

He sucked in her middle finger next, releasing it with slow, purposeful reluctance.

“How about on the skin of that golden neck of yours? Right over your pulse?”

He then bathed her ring finger in his saliva.

“Flickin' your lobe and nipping it with my teeth…”

Lapping at her pinky, he drew the seduction out, bringing his body–and her hand–right near her face, continuing to enjoy her flavour as he tried to entice her further.

“Would you like my tongue licking all over those beautiful titties? Hmm? From bottom to top?”

He tickled her inside wrist with his tongue, mimicking the motions he hoped to make around her areola at some point during the night.

“I’d love to take my time licking your nipples… have them aching for more attention.”

As he spoke, he reached for her left hand and brought it to his mouth, allowing the right to fall back onto the bed. He repeated his lips' trailing, dampening quest all over again.

“Should I tell you that I've thought about tonging that little hole in your belly…”

Suckle.

“Or inside your thighs…”

Suckle.

“Or behind your knees…”

Suckle.

“And especially that pussy.”

Nibble, lick, suckle.

“I've wanted to taste all of you, baby. Bury my face between these legs until you were calling my name. Suck your clit until your spine arched wit' the pleasure.”

He leaned mere inches from her mouth, drawing her index finger back into his mouth, running his expert tongue over it.

She opened her mouth, but he pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.

“It’s okay, baby, you ain’t gotta talk. Just lay right there and let me take care of you.”

Erik positioned himself over Camille and started out by kissing her neck. He brought those kisses down to the tops of her breasts, then around the sides and under. He grabbed one full breast in his hand while his finger on his other hand fondled her nipple. His index finger swiped over her rigid nipple, watching in amazement the actual process of them swelling in response. He was amazed to see them flushing with blood as they became engorged.

Camille hummed in approval, enjoying his attention, and his eyes shot to her face to watch her reaction. Lust crawled languidly through her cinnamon depths, her pupils expanding as her body felt the stirrings of need. Her smirk had transformed into a small, pleased smile that decorated her prettily painted lips with an expression he'd only seen at the library—the times she'd sat across from him at her desk, relaxed and enjoying herself when no one needed help. That look was what he'd been waiting for until this very moment… and this time it was directed at him, at something he was doing to her, and not some book.

With very light caresses, he traced the edges of her breasts one at a time, learning the soft span of flesh with intimate detail. She had a light birthmark on the top of her left mound, and another underneath her right. He found those marks to be fascinating, not ruining the perfection, but adding to its uniqueness. Her left side was slightly larger than her right, and a tad heavier. Snaking a fingertip over her areola, he circled it many times, just tracing, softly learning Camille’s shape. It was such a sensual thing to do to study the contours of a woman.

"Beautiful," he whispered, enraptured by the motion of flesh under his fingers. "I want to run my tongue all over these."

“Please, Professor…it’s been so long since I felt it,” Camille begged.

Erik leaned in and suckled her breasts. He used his teeth, tongue, lips, and fingers to pleasure her and Camille could only moan and thrust her chest out for more. He could do this for hours and not give a damn how sore his jaw felt. Watching this woman squirm beneath him and beg for more would make him do anything. After a thorough taste of her breasts, his lips were on her belly and then his tongue dipped into her navel. She jerked from the sudden sensation but a content sigh escapes her lips.

“Fuck, that feels so good, Erik,” Her legs dropped open, “You have the best mouth in the world.”

Erik chuckled against her belly, his eyes peeking up at her and his dimples deep, “thank you, baby girl.”

He slipped her panties to the side and the moment his lips were on the top of her pussy, Camille arched her back. Her scent crowded his senses and he shoved his face between her legs until his nose was buried deep between her folds. Pussy fat, lips coated with a slippery wetness, he sucked as much of her as he could into his mouth to clean her up. Camille felt firm, strong, unyielding hands push her thighs back so far that her knees almost touched her ears. Not caring the slightest with how uncomfortable and not so limber her legs are. He licked and sucked all of her juices and kissed her inner lips with reverence. His face was soaked with her wetness and she squirmed on the bed, running her fingers through his locs.

The same suction that he had on her toes, was the same on her aching clit. It hurt so good and no matter how many times she tried pushing him away, Erik was right there, right on that spot. Camille’s inner thigh muscles spasmed and her toes pointed to the ceiling when he introduced two thick fingers inside of her. He worked them with a curl that had her seeing the galaxy. She cried out on repeat and all Erik did was talk nasty to her.

“Cum in my mouth.”

“Open your legs.”

“This my pussy.”

“Give me that pussy.”

She lost it when he told her he’ll make that phat pussy squirt. He was already making it cream. He blew on her clit between licks and just like he promised, Camille released a stream of colorless liquid all over his front. Her thighs circled his head as she climaxed and Erik had to pry them open to stop her from trapping his head. His tongue flicked expertly over her folds—up and down.

“Yes! Right there! Aah! Fuck!”

She grabbed his locs into a fist and her entire body tightened as she gave him a second wave of juices. Erik remained between her legs through it all. When he finally reappeared, his beard was dripping. Camille handed him the towel and Erik pat-dried his beard. After he was finished, Camille reached her arms out for him and Erik fell into her embrace. They kissed and shared her pussy juices and cum. This was just the beginning. The entire time he was enjoying himself between her legs, his wide, fat head dragged along the sheets creating a large, tacky puddle. He’d never leaked that much before. His dick stayed rock hard. No time to get all soft when a fine woman like Camille was his for the taking.

Camille wanted to reward Erik for being such a good foot slave to her. He worshiped her feet and covered every part of her with his mouth. She was still lying there in a puddle of her own juices, trying to recover from that amazing head Erik gave her. Camille teased his dick with her left foot as they kissed. Erik broke the kiss and stared down between his legs to watch her.

“Damn, you’re feet is so fuckin’ soft,” Erik exhaled.

Camille did the same for his balls and he trembled above her.

“I wanna give you a nice foot job, daddy,” Camille whispered, “Let me take care of you now.”

Erik flipped Camille over so that she was straddling him and he used both of his hands to palm her ass. His hands rubbed from her booty all the way up to her shoulder and back down. When his hands reached her ass again, his fingers weaved into her lace panties and he ripped them from her body. Camille winced and whimpered and Erik brought his hand down with a heavy slap to her right cheek. He was having a good time juggling her cheeks like two big, bouncy balls.

Camille reached behind her to grab Erik’s wrists, “You’ll get all the time in the world to play with this ass, daddy. It’s time for me to play with you now.”

“I can’t wait to feel those pretty ass feet rubbing up and down my dick.”

Camille reached for the bottle of massage oil and climbed off of Erik’s lap to sit between his legs. Erik bent his knees and spread his thighs for her so she could have enough space to bring her feet between his legs. Camille drenched her feet in massage oil and carefully placed it on the bed beside her.

His dick is thick, pretty, veined, and slightly curved. His glans is fat and an almost purplish hue from how erect he is. He kept himself trimmed up nicely there and his balls sat heavy and full. Just the sight of it pointing straight out at her like a microphone to lips petrified her a little. She didn’t even try to guess how big he is. Erik just laid there with his hands behind his head, waiting patiently for her to start. Completely unfazed by how baffled his dick made her. He shivered, a moan escaping his lips and his abdominal muscles flexing.

She wrapped her toes around the head of his dick and squeezed, eliciting more noise.

Camille raised her leg and ran her toes along the underside of his shaft. Toes leaving an oily trail behind, she softly dragged her toes down his shaft again and pressed them into his huge sack, not too rough but enough to elicit a groan.

“Gon’ make me bust early, Camille,” Erik warned her.

It was time to take it up a notch. Camille cupped her feet around his dick and massaged his girth up and down. The wrinkles soles of her feet mixed with the pads of her toes stroking all over his oily rock hard dick made his sack twitch. A stream of curse words and gravely grunts escaped his mouth. Right beneath his swollen tip, Camille uses the crease of her toes to jerk him there. Each time she went up, she would squeeze. Erik sat up and watched with sweet agony how her beautiful feet made him feel.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good for this, Camille…I’m gonna fuck you so good…so good…aah, fuck…you nasty bitch—”

Camille used one hand to spread her pussy lips open so he could watch as her opening wink at him. Erik couldn’t decided if he should focus on her creamy pussy or her soft feet. Like it was sorcery, his dick swelled between her feet and when Camille’s toes wiggled over the tip of his dick—all ten at once, Erik erupted between her toes like he sprung a leak. His groans were loud and the sight of his dick ejaculating so much cum was beautiful to witness. He fell back against the pillow, beat from that first nut alone. Sweat coated his body like he’d just put in work at the gym.

Camille continued her ministrations even as her toes were caked with his sticky cum, ensuring that his balls were completely empty. He moaned like a wounded animal and the last bit of hot cum drizzled down the back of Camille’s feet.

“You ain’t have to make a nigga nut so good, Camille, goddamn!” Erik’s body had it’s final twitch before he rolled out of bed.

After the big load, he was still hard and ready to fuck Camille.

“Show me all that cum on your toes…shit…shit that looks good,” Erik stroked his dick, mixing his cum with the oil, “Spread your toes…hmmmm, that’s so fuckin’ sexy. All my fuckin’ cum on your pretty feet,” He continued fisting himself, “You don’t know how bad I wanna beat that puss up, Camille. Oh, it’s like that? Yeah? Turn around. Turn the fuck around.”

On her back, Camille spread her thighs for him. He smacked his dick on her clit with a scowl on his face that made Camille nervous. She didn’t know what he had in store for her. He grabbed both of her ankles and spread her legs wide apart. His long, tick dick pointed straight towards her widespread lips. Camille didn’t have time to gather herself when Erik’s tip sank deeply inside of her. She squealed loudly, her hand reaching out to stop him from going any further. Erik didn’t listen, all he wanted to do was fuck the shit out of Camille.

He lifted her hips up like she was a feather, tapped his shoulders for her to place her ankles there, and started pumping his dick in long and hard. The neighbors would definitely know his name forever with the way she screamed it so much. He was deep in her shit with one big hand pressed against her stomach and the other in a fist sinking into the mattress. His hips dropped forward at an angle, his dick disappearing completely with how much he stuffed her. Each time he pulled his dick out, it just glistened with her juices.

Glasses fogged up, Camille couldn’t see Erik’s face clearly but she could feel him inside of her. She’d never been fucked like this. He popped his hips and fed her dick with a stroke that he could easily brag about. But that’s the thing about Erik, he didn’t need to brag. Sure, you could look at him and say he probably fucks good, but you wouldn’t really know until you tried it. Camille was not disappointed at all.

“Where’s daddy’s dick, hmm?” Erik asked with a harsh tone.

“Unh! Fuck! It’s in me!” Camille yelled.

“Fuckin’ sexy, baby.” Erik said.

Her glasses were hanging off her nose at this point. The muscles in her thighs burned. Her pussy was sore and feeling amazing at the same time.

“The more I keep fuckin, the more you cream on this dick, Camille. If only you could see how messy you got daddy’s dick looking.”

She squirt on him again and Erik felt her walls convulse and squeeze his dick. He hooked his arms around her thighs and drilled her pussy.

Splash! splash! splash!

Plop! Plop! Plop!

Sticky balls clapped against her backside. Camille’s body seized up and she cried out. He knocked her glasses off her face.

“FUCK!” Erik shouted.

He withdrew his hips in one clean motion and Camille felt the pressure in her belly vanish. All those inches buried deep inside her.

Camille felt around for her glasses and when she found them, she slipped them on her face to see what mess Erik was referring to. Her eyes stared longingly at his hard, creamy dick swaying between his thighs.

“I want it in me again,” Camille moaned.

“Yeah? All this dick?” Erik smiled at her.

“Daddy, please,” Camille murmured.

“If I put it in you again, I want you to sit on it.”

Erik strolled over to Camille with stormy eyes and his dick in hand he thrust his dick in her face and Camille opened up to clean him off. She sucked as much as she could while both of her hands stroked his dick in a twisting motion. Her mouth slurped on five inches of him and the rest of his big dick enjoyed her hands.

“That’s it, clean this dick off just like that, Miss Camille,” Erik commanded.

She would lick all over his huge shaft , flicking her tongue wildly over the protruding veins, then she would stop and their tongues would meet in a desperate tongue kiss for a few minutes. She would then bend over at the waist and continue to worship his big dick.

He would moan approvingly and I would look up at him and deliberately tease him saying, "Ummm you like this type of head don't you, baby?”

Camille nodded her head while sucking.

“Yeah, baby, you like sucking this big dick…you know what I’ve always fantasized about you doing?”

Camille shook her head No while sucking.

“You on your knees under my table, wear those cute glasses, sucking my dick and swallowing my nut…”

As Erik moaned uncontrollably, Camille played into his fantasy, "You like the way I'm blowing your big black dick under the table don’t you, baby? You have to be quiet while I suck it like this…”

Camille went wild, lathering his huge dick, bathing it until her hot saliva was dripping through her hands onto her fat titties , dripping onto her thighs. At this point, she was simply possessed.

“Oh, bitch, oh, you love this big dick, don’t you? How the fuck am I supposed to keep quiet when you keep suckin’ on my dick like this, huh?”

Slurp! slurp!

“If you make me nut I’m gonna—SHIT—”

Hands in her hair, Erik fucked her face. Camille gagged around him and the fact that she couldn’t deep throat turned Erik on even more.

“You wanna suck my dick like this? Get on this dick, Camille, let’s go, sit on this dick now,” Erik dictated with a harsh tone.

He didn’t even wait for her to do it herself. As soon as he stretched back on the bed, he picked Camille up and placed her over him. He began inserting his huge black dick into her very slowly. Just his immense head at the entrance felt so huge that she shuddered and squirted a little. Once his big dick head was inside her, he began running his hands teasingly along the sides of her legs and over her ass. The soft caressing turned into rough handling quickly when Erik locked his wrists behind Camille’s back and fucked up into her at a rapid pace.

Her feet with dry cum tucked beneath his legs as she bounced. Camille looked back and groaned, "Soooo fucking big! Oh, baby, your dick is sooo fucking big! a big fucking dick, baby!”

Erik took her pussy and began slow fucking her with that beautiful dick, thrilling her with every long stroke. As he fucked his dick into her tight wet pussy, he kissed her neck, commenting on how fucking sexy and kinky she is and that his big dick never fucked such a sexy bitch. Camille felt herself meeting his thrusts.

Erik’s hands went to his sides, “Fuck this dick like it’s your dick, up and down just like that, show daddy you ain’t afraid of this dick.”

Camille felt herself squirting again on his dick! She couldn’t believe it!

“I make that pussy squirt?” He asked while smoothing his hand over her cheek lovingly.

“Yessss!” She shouted.

“As long as you stay on this dick, I’ll make you squirt anytime you want it.”

“Yes!”

“Do that shit on this dick, girl, Fuuck,” Erik closed his eyes, “You feel my dick all up in that pussy? That’s where I’ma be for now on. This my pussy. All wet and gushy…”

After a few minutes, Camille felt his dick twitch. She looked over her shoulder, “You got another big load in that big dick for me, Professor?”

As he moaned he said crazily, “Oh, fuck, yeah, bitch, come and get it, bitch.”

“Ooooh, yes!”

Camille began to feel his huge dick begin to twitch inside her and she immediately pulled it out and stroked his fat dick madly, thick shaft barely fitting in her hand. She pumped that dick off and sent his cum sputtering out his slit and all over her titties.

Erik tried to catch his breath while Camille fell to the bed beside him, her heart beat thumping rapidly against Erik’s side. He brought one arm around to cradle her while she snuggled into him.

“I was serious about that head under my table, Miss Camille,” Erik professed between breaths.

Camille giggled, “we’ll see. You have to follow the rules of the library first to get your reward.”

Erik’s dick throbbed against his thigh. Camille raised her head up to look at Erik. She turned on her confidence and control. His chest went tight, his breathing quickened, and his muscles bunched like a predator’s as he tensed with a hungry anticipation.

Camille adjusted her glasses and threw one leg over Erik’s waist, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his face. He stared up at her between her hanging breasts with rapid attention.

“You are expected to fulfill your obligation to me, Professor,” She explained in a no-nonsense tone, “and provide another satisfying foot massage, per your Mistress’ requirements,” She wrapped her hand around his dick jerking slowly, “furthermore, I expect you to attend to my pussy with a wet, warm cloth and my feet in my tub,” She felt him pulsate in her grip, “I’m a bit sore after your vigorous love-making, and require you to carefully administer some tender love and care to my body.”

Erik almost blew a load right then and there, “As you command, my Mistress.”

Camille smiled. Another hard days work for the Foot Mistress and Librarian.

@afriicanhoe @19jammmy @abcdestinyyyy @whorderofthepheonix @shaekingshitup @tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @thehomierobbstark @abluesforlyssa @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara @honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @soulshinechronicles @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @jaysaidhi @shawnstacksss @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @amyhennessyhouse @dameshaemonique @glittermakesmesmile @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @ambthegamer @efonteno @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @asweet-serendipity @ajspencer1892 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21

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#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger smut #killmonger x reader #Erik Killmonger #killmonger #black panther imagine

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years ago

Text

airhorn sounds in your ear as you try to sleep ITS FIC TIME, CHILDREN

His father’s first reaction is, predictably, nervous. They’re sitting in the living room as a family, all sort of hanging out, but doing their own thing. Hoarders is passively playing, Lydia is tucked under the couch with a book and flashlight, Emily is in the corner with her laptop, and BJ and Charles are each sitting on opposite ends of the couch, going through their phones. He gets a very sweet text from Adam, showing that the other teen has put the photo Lydia took of them in a frame, and he grins, and holds the device to his chest, feeling giddy and flustered. His dad notices. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Charles smiles, and BJ figures this is as good a time as any. “I got a text from my boyfriend.” Charles stares. From her chair in the corner, Emily’s typing slows, and then stops, as her brain catches up with that sentence. His phone pings again, and he looks back down at a message from Barbara, then back to his parents. “And my girlfriend.” Emily closes her computer. Her smile is enormous. “Shut up.” “No, seriously!” he grins back at his mother, and then notes the color Charles is going. “Adam and Barbara?” Emily asks, knowingly, and he nods. “We made it official yesterday. I took em to th’ Smallpox Hospital.” “Awww! That’s so romantic!” “You’re dating?” Charles finally finds words. “Unclench your everything, dad, jeezus.” “It’s just… do you think that’s a good idea?” “I think it’s a great idea,” BJ says, a little defensive. “What, I’m not allowed to date? M’too weird for it?” “That’s not what I meant, BJ,” Charles frowns. But he can tell it kind of is.

“Charles, honey, he’s sixteen. He’s going to date,” Emily says softly, and Charles looks back at her. “But two people at once? And they’re-” “They’re what, Chuck?” “Humans. They’re human, BJ.” “Holy shit, they are? Here I thought they were just really crappy demons.” “I just don’t know if you’ve thought this through. Wouldn’t you be happier dating another demon?” “I don’t know any other demons, dad,” he growls, temper flaring. “Unless you want me to date Sam, an’ look like a total creep, since he’s stuck at like, ten.” “Stop it, BJ.” “You stop it! Just be happy for me!” “I am.. Happy. For you.” BJ sits back, crosses his arms, and scowls. “Got a funny way of showin’ it.” His father stands, and takes to pacing. Christ. “We should lay out ground rules.” “Me an’ Adam an’ Barb did that already.” “No, I mean, house rules,” Charles says, rubbing at his beard. “Things you’re allowed to do, and not. Oh, god, first things first, I’m going to get you a box of condoms.” Betelgeuse feels himself flush, and then Lydia finally pipes up, sticking her head out from under the couch. “Gross.”

“You’re seriously blowin’ this out of proportion. We’ve barely held hands!” “I was a teenager. I remember how things escalate. The last thing we need is someone pregnant. Especially with whatever a human and a demon would make.” “Th’ anti-Christ, maybe,” he says, unhelpfully, and he sees the way his dad’s expression twists into further worry. “It was a joke! Oh my god!”

His mother, bless her, swoops in, just then. “BJ’s just told us good news,” she says, standing, and putting a hand on Charles’ arm, which stops his pacing. “I need you to reassess how you’re making him feel, right now.” Charles looks from his wife to his son. BJ rubs at his nose, embarrassed and upset, and probably purple, and he sees his father make a choice. “BJ, I’m sorry,” Charles comes over, hesitantly reaches down, and Betelgeuse responds by throwing his arms around his dad. Chuck rubs his back. “Tell me about them,” he says, “and I promise to be cool. As cool as I can be, at least.”

That’s at least something. He can tell his dad is still worried, but he does listen, as Betelgeuse describes his two partners. “We spend a lotta time together,” he tells his father. “An’ they’re both goody two shoes. Seriously, they’re borin’, nice people.” “Tell us how you met them, BJ,” Emily smiles. He regales them with the story of Barbara and the flower, and then Adam in the library, and by the time he’s done, he’s back to feeling green, all smiles and excitement and stimming hands. It feels really, really good to not be alone.

Monday comes a day too soon, and he sort of misses the atmosphere of the library, because at lunch, he’s forced to pick up trash, with Honeywell watching him intently from a bench. The only consolation prize to this is the vice principal’s time is also being wasted. He doesn’t miss how a few kids walk by and intentionally throw things at his feet for him to pick up. They don’t get away with it, though, because either they trip and find their shoelaces are mysteriously tied together, or for those unlucky ones without laces, they’ll find a snake in their lockers. The miserable part is, Adam and Barbara aren’t allowed to hang out with him while he’s working. They’d tried, and were told in no uncertain terms to leave him alone, leave him to his task, or they’d be sent to the other side of the campus to do the same thing. A little bit of punishment, he understands. But he draws the line at threatening Sexy and Babs. He’s absolutely plotting exactly how he’s going to ruin the overbearing adult’s day when he feels a strange sensation in his chest, like a slight tug. He pauses. It’s not a pain, not really, more like a pull away from himself, which doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what it is. He has to assume it’s another demon thing.

He glances at his watcher, who seems engrossed in paperwork.

Man, if only this guy would fuck off, he could be enjoying lunch with his friends- The pull away from himself is stronger, this time. He concentrates on it, and then remembers how physical the summoning of clones is, requiring a motion like he’s tossing something, and he gives that a try, this time, gently lobbing nothing at a student passing by. The kid looks surprised, and then goes rigid, and he thinks maybe he’s killed someone for the first time, but then the teen straightens up, and stands, stiff, facing him, and BJ feels mentally split, between two bodies. He raises his right hand. The student mirrors the action, eyes wide, confused. He lowers it, then kicks his leg out to the side, and again, he’s copied. Not copied.. Followed? The other student is like a marionette, and his mind is the strings, or something close to that. “Possession,” he grins, wickedly, and then he pulls himself back all to one body, and the kid falls on his ass, confused, and scrambles away.

Oh, he is so going to use this new power for evil.

“BJ Deetz! I don’t see this quad getting any cleaner!” Honeywell has looked up from his paperwork to find Betelgeuse standing there, grinning to himself, and the teen responds by spinning around, and throwing nothing at the overbearing authority figure. Honeywell also goes rigid, and BJ lifts his hands, directing the VP to stand, and the hapless adult does so. “Looks clean enough to me,” he mouths, and hears that sentence come out of Honeywell’s lips. “Clean enough to eat offa!” With a swiping motion, he forces the man to knock his own hardly touched lunch to the ground, and then BJ crouches low, and the adult follows, shoving his face into what was clearly leftovers from some night’s dinner, and coming back up with a mouthful of noodles and dirt. The big man’s eyes are wide. He’s scared, confused. It’s thrilling. With a hand motion, BJ forces the breather’s face back into the mess of food and dirt, and doesn’t let him up until the muffled cries become truly panicked. Possession out in public might be a bit too noticeable, though, because there’s a gathering group of kids watching what the teacher is doing, their phones out, taking video, and he doesn’t need them connecting his own strange movements back to Honeywell’s. He makes a final hand motion, releasing the adult, and shoves his hands in his pockets, just in time for Adam and Barbara to appear as faces in the crowd. Honeywell, freed, sits up, coughing and sputtering, and looking horrified. “What the heck happened?” Adam asks, and BJ shrugs. “He started throwin’ a fit, outta no where,” he lies, but he feels the vice principal watching him, staring up from the dirt, where he’s still sat, dazed. He gives the adult a grin. “Totally fuckin’ weird.”

The rest of his lunch period is freed up, suddenly, as Honeywell goes to clean himself off in the men’s room.

This fun new ability requires further testing, but not right now, now when Adam and Barbara are around. Soon, though. Very soon. “I’m really bummed we can’t be in the library anymore. I tried to pop in to grab something this morning and the librarian chased me out.” Adam looks genuinely sad, at that, which startles BJ out of his downright vicious thoughts. “By the way,” Adam adds, “They put up the casting sheet today. Want to guess who got that dentist part?” Barbara is grinning wide. “Me?” he croaks. A few other kids tried for it.. He didn’t think he’d get picked, honestly, thought that maybe someone more likable, or more friendly, would be chosen over him, but Barbara squishes his cheeks in her hands. “You!” she cheers, and he blushes. “You’re going to be amazing! But that means,” she tells him, suddenly serious, “-that you have to actually try.” He nods, as much as he can, her hands still on either side of his face. “Effort,” he grunts. “Got it.” She leans forward and kisses the tip of his nose. He scrambles to throw his hood over his head, and cinches it closed, knowing for a fact he’s gone pink from the tips of his hair down to the roots. “BJ?” Barbara giggles, as he peers out at her from his hood. “Should I not do that?” “NO! No, no, I, uh, just.. Warn a guy, next time.”

He hadn’t thought through the logistics of this, clearly, because he can’t be scrambling away from them every time one of them kisses him, just because his stupid hair won’t behave itself. God, he’s going to have to start wearing a beanie, or something, until he can get this color thing under control. Annoyingly, his dad was right. He really hadn’t given this much thought, beyond, Adam and Barbara pretty, wanna kiss them. Now he’s got to work out the logistics of how he’s going to actually achieve that goal, without basically, for lack of a better word, outing himself. He doesn’t want to think that something like what happened with Kevin could happen again, but he hadn’t really seen that situation coming, and it had ended about as poorly as a budding romance can, with parental murder. So yeah, he’s not exactly confident he can trust them with this secret. Better to keep it to himself, play his cards close to the chest, not let them all the way in. That’s safest for all of them. Good plan, BJ, he thinks to himself, watching Barbara dust wood shavings out of Adam’s hair, a leftover byproduct of his shop class. No one gets hurt. No one has to know anything. He can keep playing human with his cute new partners for as long as they’ll let him.

Stretching before him, suddenly, he foresees a lifetime, several lifetimes actually, given the span of existence for a demon, lifetimes full of deceit and lies and partners who age without him, and it all makes him very tired, and sad. This is going to be how it is, he realizes. He’s going to pretend and mimic and do his best to fit himself into a template that he wasn’t made for, and he’s presumably going to be doing it forever, maybe until the minute the last human takes their last breath, because playing human is as close as he can get. It's easier to play pretend, throw a glamour on and act along, than to be himself and risk the pain and rejection, or the truth that maybe his worth is tied into what he can do, not who he is. It all leaves him dizzy, this sudden moment of unwanted clarity. He pushes it down, far down at it can go, to somewhere deep in his chest, and tries to come back to this moment, right now, because his boyfriend is looking at him. “You going to stay in that hood all day, shy guy?” Adam smiles, and BJ peels the hood back, and runs a hand through the mop of green mess that passes for his hair, and smiles, like he didn’t just have a mini existential crisis in the middle of a Monday afternoon. “What do you guys do for lunch when you’re not being wooed by an errant library assistant?” Betelgeuse forces an extra bit of pep that he doesn’t feel into his voice, and Barbara brightens. “You can come meet my friends!” She says, and he lets her lead him by the hand, across the quad, a corpse playing pretend at being alive, holding hands with the living.

They find Barbara’s friends at the lunch tables. He’s never sat over here, never really had reason to be over here at all, actually, because each table is always claimed by a friend group, and he’s never felt welcome enough to try and squeeze in with any of them. But he sort of has a group now, he supposes. If three can be a crowd, it can be a group. He does feel eyes on him as he’s directed on where to sit by Barbara, other kids at other tables watching him, maybe confused on how he’s ingratiated himself enough to actually have a place to sit. Barbara arranges where they sit, seemingly very intentionally, with herself between Betelgeuse and Adam, and Allison and Blair on the other side of the table, and they begin eating. The air is a little tense. He picks at his lunch, leftovers Charles packed for him. It smells amazing, but he doesn’t want to scarf it all down, not when he’s feeling watched, the way he is. And he is being watched, very intently so, by Barbara’s friends, who are apparently also Adam’s friends. Everyone but him seems to know so many other people. It’s almost insane, like, how do they keep them all straight? He’s only vaguely aware of which one of these similar white girls is Blair, because he’s spoken to her, at least once. Allison might as well be a balloon with a face painted on it. “So,” Blair puts down her fork. She’s eating a dry salad with little chunks of chicken in it, low carb, low cal. He’d be worried for her health if he gave a shit. “So,” he copies her instinctively, tilting her head the same way she does, holding his hands in front of himself in a mirror of her own movements. Barbara catches what he’s doing, and gives his arm a gentle pinch. “Is this for real?” Blair isn’t asking him, she’s looking between Adam and Barbara, who are both looking a little surprised at the sudden question. “What do you mean?” Adam asks, unsure, and Blair gestures between the three of them. “This whole.. This! When Barbara said she suddenly had two boyfriends, I had to check my calendar, make sure it wasn’t April Fool’s. And then it turns out to be you and..” Her eyes fall back on Betelgeuse. “Him. You, Adam, I get. You and Barbara together, that makes sense. But, like, BJ?” “Sure, if you’re offerin’,” he says, and Blair makes a face. Go on over to Ao3 to read the rest!! There's more waiting for your hungry eyes over there

#beetlelands fic #goldenbeetle #beetlejuice #adam maitland #barbara maitland #lydia deetz #charles deetz #emily deetz #beetlejuice fanfiction #my writing

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threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years ago

Text

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.”

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock.

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really.

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill.

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom.

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT” /end ID]

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID]

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #kye writes

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lost-in-sokovia · 4 years ago

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Hot Boy Summer

hiiiii! i’m so freaking excited to write this! this is for a challenge started by a few of my friends @captain-a-rogerss @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho and @donutloverxo !! you should really check it out under #CaptainsWeeklyChallenge ! anyway, i hope you enjoy! (ps: not putting anyone’s requests on hold, i just wanted to make sure i got this done. all requests are still in the making!🤍)

Warnings: swearing, fluff, suggestive content but nothing bad or mature

Prompt: “You’re such a brat.”

One of your favorite pastimes with Meg was annoying her older cousin, Ransom.

Was it because you had a crush on him? Don’t judge, that’s rude. You and Meg were close and she regularly brought you home with her for family holidays. It always exhausted you to be around that chaotic family, and even though Ransom was a total babe and in reality annoyed the hell out of you, you never admitted it. Joni, Meg’s mother, always had the persona and mannerisms that conveyed was high. Always her long and dragged out “hello, (Y/N)” with the hug and asking about your chakras and horoscope or whatever. She got on your last nerve most of the time and Meg found that hilarious. You knew deep down Joni was a good person and wanted the best for her daughter, but my god could she run you up a wall.

Meg’s grandfather was a sweetheart, but the rest of that family was absolutely out of their goddamn minds. And though he was insane, Ransom was drop dead hot. You never quite minded his smartass remarks, his cold glares, or the fact he thought his family was an absolute joke. It all just kinda rolled out of your head when you’d see those captivating sky blue eyes and evil smirk.

Meg had first thought it was a joke when you confessed your crush on Ransom to her one long night at school. She’d laughed, but after looking at your nervous face she stared. “What the hell?” She had asked. Your face was a combination of paleness and being flushed. You shrugged shakily. “I don’t know... he’s hot, Meg!” She scoffed, flipping back her long brown hair. “He might be hot to you, but he’s a hot prick. Doesn’t being a prick kinda cancel out being hot?” She pointed out sternly. “You know I’ve got a thing for bad boys,” you mumbled sheepishly in defense. She laughed again. “(Y/N), this isn’t some movie where everyone wants to date the hot villain. Do not date the hot villain in this situation!” She yelled. You gave her a sad glare before standing up and falling face first onto your dorm bed.

Now you weren’t dating him yet, but you sure as hell were next to him any chance you got. At first he thought it was funny, one of Meg’s college friends having a cute crush on him. But as time progressed and you became more in his way and more obnoxious to him, it made his blood boil.

It was the end of exams and summer was finally here. You were staying with Meg all summer and thrilled you were going to have opportunities to see Ransom. As you got more and more anxious the days leading up, Meg had made you promise you weren’t going to get so attached to Ransom or even forget you were there with her, and you agreed. You’d packed all your clothes (making sure to pack that one bikini that always got attention) and belongings and were on a plane to Massachusetts in no time.

When you’d arrived at Harlan’s, you were greeted with a big hug from Joni. “(Y/N), how are you sweetie?” She asked with a light tap on the back. You forced a laugh and smiled awkwardly. “I’m great Joni, h-how are you? How’s Flam?” you asked in an effort to move the topic off you as your patience lowered every time she opened her mouth. She smiled with accomplishment as she opened her mouth. “Oh you know, it reached two million followers yesterday on Insta, no biggie.” She was obviously fishing for compliments.

“Well congrats, that’s amazing,” you nodded with gritted teeth. She waved a hand and rolled her eyes slightly. “Did you get that moisturizer I sent you?” She asked. You looked over at Meg with eyes wide with annoyance and she quickly came up to help. “Yeah mom she really enjoyed it... We’re going to go get settled,” Meg explained quickly as you gave a small wave before following her.

You exhaled heavily as Meg led you up to her room. She scoffed in amusement. “Ready for a whole summer of Joni Thrombey?” She asked. You laughed under your breath and shook your head with wide eyes. “Mm, maybe Joni could just hook me up with her nephew instead...” you replied suggestively. Meg rolled her eyes and sighed. “(Y/N), he thinks you’re one of the most annoying people to have ever walked the planet, mostly because you’re friends with me. But still I don’t see your chances getting higher with that asshole,” she said. You frowned, unzipping one of your suitcases.

“Okay but I brought that one really sexy bikini I have and I’m not going to get a wedgie for nothing so he better at least say I’m not the most annoying or I look hot or something,” you huffed. Meg laughed, picking up the swimsuit and tossing it at your face.

~•~•~•~•~

Though the first day was uneventful, full of unpacking, saying your hellos and greeting everyone, calling to update your parents, eating, and sleeping, the next day was when the real fun began.

Harlan had decided it would be “nice” to get the family together since all the kids were now off school. You had raved to Meg how excited you were to see Ransom and try to prove you were a grown college woman and totally girlfriend (or wife, but baby steps right?) material. She groaned when she heard the news and hit her head against a wall.

“What? It’ll be so fun!” You tried to reason as Meg glared in the mirror while applying her makeup. She put product in her wavy brown hair and sighed. “Yeah it’ll be fun for you. You happen to forget that Ransom is just one member of this family, this very chaotic and hell raising family,” she bit. You scoffed and slipped a crop top on. “You’re just jealous because I might get a boyfriend.” You stuck your tongue out.

Meg was just about to argue back when you heard the front door downstairs being opened with muffled greetings. You sprinted over to your closed door and concentrated hard for any sign of the name “Ransom.” You pressed your ear hard against the door and your eyes lit up as you finally heard the name you’d been waiting for. Your heart rate picked up and you looked back to Meg, who was applying mascara unenthusiastically.

“You’re going to annoy the shit out of him,” she warned quietly. You glared. “No I’m not... I swear I’m mature. Mature enough to be attractive though, not like some stuck up old librarian lady or something,” you explained nervously. Meg laughed. “This is coming from the girl who still sleeps with a nightlight,” she retorted. You flipped her off with a fake smile before slipping out the door.

You ran down the long flights of stairs (nearly knocking into poor Fran, who was just trying to escape Ransom) and breathed quickly. You nearly tripped down the last few steps and cursed under your breath before catching up with a particular tall, dark haired man. You slipped in front of him and smiled smugly at him.

“Hey Ransom,” you greeted as chill as possible. He was more beautiful than you remembered (even though you had just seen him at Christmas); his hair was cut a little shorter, he wasn’t hiding under cable knit sweaters or long overcoats, and his blue eyes caught the sunlight. When he saw you his mouth parted and he stared with furrowed eyebrows for a moment. His head then tilted back as he groaned loudly.

“Meg!” He yelled. “Come get your dumb friend out of my way!” You blinked a couple times before leaning against the knight’s armour in the hallway. “No look Ransom, I’m just here to chill with Meg all summer. It’s not a huge deal. It’s totally fine, you’ll have no trouble from me,” you offered. He raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah that’s what you told me at Christmas, then you tried to kiss me under the mistletoe,” he retorted with a bitter laugh. You cringed; yeah, you had hit the holly jollies a little too much that night. You cleared your throat and began to trail Ransom as he began to walk away from you.

“Well lucky for you there’s no mistletoe in the summer,” you replied sarcastically. “Yeah, but there’s still you,” Ransom bit back in mock sarcasm. You halted to a stop and gaped at him as he continued to walk off. Damn, he really came for you.

As you stared, Harlan had appeared behind you and greeted you with a pat on the back. “So, have you said your hellos to Ransom?” He asked. You nodded, your eyes still focused down the hall. “Mhm,” you hummed back. He chuckled lightly before walking off slowly, and you scoffed as Ransom’s remark echoed in your head.

Not a big deal; a big girl like you could handle Ransom’s snarky remarks, right?

~•~•~•~

After plenty of lame and useless attempts at trying to get Ransom’s attention just through basic human interaction, you’d decided it was time to put that bikini to use.

Who knew there was easy access to a pool out where Harlan lived? You thanked your lucky stars that the white suit wouldn’t just be taking up space in your suitcase. Sure, most of the Thrombeys were now gathered and would probably be there as well, but you get what you get right? You slipped it on in the bathroom connected to Meg’s room and sighed, already pulling the bottoms out of all the uncomfortable places it didn’t belong. You looked at yourself in the mirror and raised your eyebrows. Wow, dressing for a man and not yourself; you never thought you would stoop so low for a crush.

You opened the door and met Meg with her emerald green bikini as she whistled and looked you up and down. “Damn sis! All this for my asshole older cousin?” She asked as you rolled your eyes. “I know, I was thinking the same thing,” you mumbled back. She grinned sarcastically as she grabbed the sunglasses from her dresser. “Yeah, it’s a good thing you’re not obsessed with him or anything, that would be weird,” she commented with heavy sarcasm. You laughed monotonely and threw a small bottle of sunscreen at her arm.

“Whatever, let’s get going. I wanna get out of this suit asap,” you mumbled before opening the door. Meg followed you out and snorted from behind. “(Y/N) it’s already riding up your ass,” She commented. Your face felt hot (from both embarrassment and how annoying Meg was being) and you spit out the first argument that came to mind: “Well maybe I want it there, Meg.”

You trotted through the full house and outside and plopped onto one of the long, clothed chairs perfect for tanning. Ransom was over in a shaded corner reading from a Playboy magazine (to which you thought why was he looking at pictures of women in bikinis when there was one right in front of him?) through dark sunglasses. His hair was combed back with no gel or product in it and he wore dark blue swimming trunks with no shirt. Jacob was in the shadows behind him with his eyes glued to his phone screen, the damn kid. You however couldn’t help but stare for a moment at Ransom’s abs as you blinked and took a deep breath. You laid your head back down and closed your eyes for a moment as you let the sun warm your entire body. “Damn Ransom,” you muttered bitterly.

“Alright this place better not turn into some splash pad for three year olds now that you’re here,” Ransom announced. You opened your eyes and looked back over, his eyes still glued to the magazine. You scoffed loudly in exaggeration as Meg shook her head in astonishment at you. “Please Ransom, we’re just out here to do the same exact thing as you; chill,” you called back. Joni who was drinking champagne in the hottub glanced over briefly. “Meg! (Y/N)! Looking totally adorable girls! Love the self love!” She complimented as hip as she could get.

“Yeah thanks mom,” Meg called back i enthusiastically. Ransom rolled his eyes and looked up to see what the fuss was about and was dumbstruck when he did.

God, did you have to look so hot in that swimsuit? Your skin glowed in the sun as your crossed one leg over the other. That swimsuit was very small... His eyes traveled from your legs to your bare stomach up to- no, no. He looked back down and exhaled loudly. No, think about how annoying you are. He wasn’t going to stare at you. No... He felt awkward. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Ransom never thought he’d feel something towards you. It was weird, he questioned his standards and tried to take his mind off you. This was really conflicting and he’d never thought so much into a hot girl- no he wasn’t going to call you hot.

While Ransom sat in the corner and tried to handle his frustration, you layed in the sun and pitied yourself. You basically tried everything. If Ransom wasn’t going to pay attention to you in this, there was no hope. You frowned and stretched your arms and legs before crossing them again.

You glanced over at Ransom, who’s eyes you’d found staring at you. (He couldn’t do it. He looked back at you, sprawled out on the chair. Screw his reputation, he wasn’t going to pass this up.) You blinked a few times before raising an eyebrow. “Like what you see, Ransom?” You asked suggestively. He scoffed in astonishment and shook his head. “You’re such a brat,” he mumbled. You smiled wickedly and sat up. Meg looked over and tried to grab your arm. “(Y/N), where are you going?” She asked. You looked back as you made your way to the pool. “Just going for a swim because I’m getting a little hot in the sun,” you explained casually.

Ransom shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “Really, (Y/N)? This is what we’re gonna play?” He asked somewhat aggressively. You looked over and shrugged innocently. “What are we playing, Ransom? Can’t a girl get in the pool if she needs to be cooled off?” You lowered your sunglasses for a moment and winked. He glared with a mouth opened in shock; since when did you start acting like this? Where was Meg’s college friend who had a cute little crush on him?

You were milking the hell out of this. You enjoyed feeling somewhat in control over Ransom. His frustration amused you, and you were pretty sure he’d pop at any second.

You stepped into the cool water and shivered slightly. You slowly continued to submerge your body and looked back over at your target. He held his head with his fingers against his temple, his mouth slightly parted. You grinned smugly before placing your glasses to the side and going completely under the crystal clear water.

Jacob looked up briefly from his phone and laughed viciously. “Seriously, Ransom?” Ransom turned around and held a finger close to his face. “One more comment out of you and that goddamn phone finds a new home at the bottom of that pool,” he snarled. Jacob rolled his eyes before looking back down while Ransom whipped back around.

You hair was now wet and water drops speckled your chest and arms. Ransom groaned and threw his magazine on the ground before standing up. You glanced over and did your best to hold back laughter from the scene Ransom was causing. He began to quickly walk towards you and you full on laughed.

“Ransom don’t get your britches in a bunch,” Meg commented from her chair. She’d given up; you were a lost cause. You were under the spell of her disgusting older cousin and all she could do was sit back and watch the curse take its course.

You waited for Ransom at the edge of the underground pool and put your arms on the warm concrete. He kneeled in front of you and you raised an eyebrow. The sun reflected off the water and Ransom tried his best to keep his eyes on you through his dark sunglasses. “You think this is funny?” He bit. You shrugged. “Little bit. I’m only having fun if you are though,” you replied smoothly. “Trying to make me look like a perv? You knew exactly what you were doing when you put that goddamn bikini on. A little small (Y/N), don’t you think?” He whispered harshly. You stared at his angry expression before glancing around at the oblivious grownups in the yard.

“Glad your family isn’t paying attention, huh?” You remarked. He growled lowly and you smiled. “Come on Ransom,” you urged plainly. “You know you want to.” Ransom raised an eyebrow. “Do what?” He hissed. You puckered your lips for a brief second and winked teasingly. He laughed bitterly.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled before putting his index finger under your chin and pulling you into a rough kiss. You shifted your weight onto your arms and pushed yourself up higher and further into the kiss.

Your stomach twisted and turned and you felt like screaming in victory.

He pulled away and glared in defeat as you smirked. “Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” You cooed. He sighed. “You’re a real bitch, you know?” He asked. You hummed amusingly. “Yeah Meg would know a lot about that.”

haaaaaa i hope you enjoyed! i loved writing this and i hope you enjoyed! (and of course thanks to my girl @lookalivefrosty for getting me through a rough spot where i didn’t know wtf to do😂)

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iraniq · 4 years ago

Text

Birthdays be like...

# Thomas Andrew Felton:

/the scene happens in England/

- you woke up early to prepare breakfast

- barely slept the night from excitement

- half way through someome kissed your ear

- "woke up 2h ago to walk Willow, saw all, but thanks for trying"

- "go away, it's a surprise"

- "let me help in then, love!"

- "you can't help in your birthday surprise"

- "watch me"

- ends up helping in his birthday surprise.

- you singing 'ophelia'song to him, incapable to replace it with Tom and still spunds good

- he made thousand videos and pics of you stumbling with the song

- no pancake hit the floor!

- still officially forbidden of giving Willow secret not dog food

- talking about Willow, she came fast when she heard voices

- ending up making dog friendly pancake

- flipping it right on her face /was already cooled/

- Tom got it all on video

- "look now, oh hi Willow, catch"

- "did you just flipped the pancake to fall on her face?"

- before you can say yes, there was no physical memory of the pancake

- watching cartoons on the couch

- "looks like someone is sleepy"

- "nooooo"

- "well if you hadn't stayed till 2 in the morning last night..."

- "was excited for your birthday"

- "and you said it like thousand times"

- "i am excited for birthdays, and yours is a special one"

- forhead kissed

- he muttes something that endes with 'love', but tight hugs and stroking hair, is one way ticket to dreamland

- bonus: Willow is a warm pillow on your lap

- afternoon long walks

- laughter

- singing on the streets

- silly pics

- pillow fight at home

- Willow stole yet another one

- "Willow's pillow fortress is getying bigger"

- "because you can't say no to your child, and instead taking them from her, you keep on buying new ones"

- fancy, low key filthy sexy looking dress for dinner

- a comedy movie no one watched...

- ... because pillow war revange

- and somewome had to keep an eye on popcorn

- food thief detected

- sloberly kisses and yet another pillow missing

- "just jump in the pool with the dress, love"

- drying hairs in the midle of the night

- matching pajamas

- Willow at board

- "your child just stole my sock"

- "she is your child now too..." - halj asleep deep british voice

- "ok, then, our child, just stole my sock"

- more forhead kissed and love mumbles

- snuggles

- "will meet you im dreamland"

# Erich Blunt:

*Ok we have all seen the tik tok - "take your clothes off" and how the girl spits her drink, and we all reacted like that*

- after midnifgt visit at the big house

- you have a special 'multipass' key card

- wake him up at 12:02 with *coughs* love

- everywhere

- i mean everywhere

- possible

- in the house

- then maybe at 5 o'clock in the company

- the boss chair, that's unfortunately a super normal one, because he refused to have fancy cabibet

- in the virtual relity room

- junk food at the sunrise on a super random place

- naps in the big, too fancy for naps, bed

- mid afternoon flight to a dessert rave party

- yes... plain checked

- matching outfits at the party

- the looks he gives you

- yes... at some random spots in the crowd

- his poker face is out of this world

- stargazing and hand holding

- tents at feativals are not soun proof...

- both umable to human the next day, dozzing off in the plane

# Julian Albert Desmond:

- a workoholic, scientist, perfectionist... with a metahuman bad experience inside his head... He could tell by the air in the room, something was off...

- a surprise was way beyond imaginable

- imagine everybody's faces when you casualy dropped at the station, introducing yourself

- "she is a spy" - Cisco said

- "Julian mentioned he had a girldriend...but i thought it was just for the excuse" - Barry said

- "nope, alive and in the flesh"

- you announced his upcoming birthday in a week and asked for help

- they were all instantly in

- same day, Barry got 'late'

- the captain gave them a case in the far abandoned aide of town, Caitlin was in the car with him, non stop talking, how Ciaco and HR are unbarable. Iris and Barry...

- he wasn't paying attention at this point

- the building looked suapicious

- they entered, only to see the whole Team Flash, including Dr. Wells and Jessie, holding a cake, with this so familiar red sugar you have been buying lately

- he knew your surprise will pop up eventually

- you knew he was late after work, no more metahumans hate, but you nevwr poked the subject

- "no one told her" - Barry reasured

- "she is overworking today, and instructed us, quoting 'get his ass the cake, or i will end you!', she is scary for a librarian" - Iris noted

- "she certanly is"

- all laugh

- "candles blowing in abandoned and possibly dangeroys area, great"

- all laughing again

- *insert Julian's sarcastic remarcs*

- "people skills, Julian"

- A fot Ain't even trying at this point

- afterwork party at the park

- Julian being soft

- Caitlin being low key jealous

- romantic dances under the stars

- you wearing a long mid transparent nightgown and his "explorer hat"

- *insert adult content here*

# Logan Maine:

*AU where they woke up the passangers a week before artiving at Thea, notjing hit the ship*

/haven't yet finished the tv series, so some info might not be true/

- after Mia, Logan didn't plan on having friends, or being close to someone

- not that he planned to befrend Mia...

- aftee several days of you being sweet carring and maybe a bit rude, and an epileptic episode later, he was tolerating you

- maybe more than toleraring, but he wasn't gonna admit it

- he was astonishing cook to start with

- you tried making cake, when you found out

- failed!

- but the unhealthy ammount of chocolate syrop on it, fixed it

- him dipping fries in the chocilate...

- *Logan what?!*

- walking around the 'garden'

- him pushing you towards the spraying water

- trying to name the plants only to end up with: "if it's not weed..." - he laughed

- "you are failing at being horrible"

- "trying to be, but that smile of yours isn't helping"

- marker writing on the station windows, connecting stars in odd shapes

- sneaking on others

- "is Baum a perv, or just a perv"

- "Shun and Lana are totally a thing"

- low key stealing extra pills for his epilepsy

- who'll suspect the cool sweet kid's teacher

- stealing food from your supervisor's cabim, after you went asking her, what Logan liked, so you can make a romantic dinner

- she didn't gave you much info, but the odd plastic half liquid sweets you stole definwtly tasted good

- "the A woman stealing? Your crush on me is ruining your good name"

- "maybe i am tired of a good name"

- "don't tell me you go to another planet to be a criminal"

- "lools like i might have the best teacher"

- "only om small crimes, like stealing a pretty girl's heart"

- his odd winks

- that smirk

- kisses in the dark

- he "found" some extra blankets

- 2 burritos on a way after midnight open space gazing

- Shun may have cought you drawing the odd funny shapes, but told no one - you were holding hands, giggling drawing one ovee another, was way too cute to tell on

# Draco Lucius Malfoy:

/Around 6th-ish year maybe.../

- how you pick a present for someone who has everything, literally everuthing

- bargins with Pansy for info

- Theo gives it all free

- Blaize asked for unknown favor

- no one actually gave you smth to work with

- Draco was bitter

- even the good fight with Potter didn't lift his spirit

- nor the -10 points

- you even owled Narcisaa, but nothing

- difficult problems require simple solution

- his favourire clothes of yours

- your Gucci pefulme on his scarf

- this beyond ordenary way you bite off from his green apple

- the thing with the shy eyes and devil smile you love pulling on him

- touching his hair

- scratching his hands with your long nails gives him the good chills

- changing in that gorgeous emerald green dress he bought you for the Christmas ball

- pinky hand holding

- getting cold, so he can give you his coat

- him and his long coat

- messy pearl hair

- stolen kissed under his tree

- brushing your nose in his cheek

- teasing each other

- in your own bubble in aftwenoon class

- again -10 points... each

- professor Lupin felt the pain of ceperating the lovely sight you were, so he can continue his lesson

- party at the boy's bedroom

- eating the cake his mom send you, instead of dinner

- whole friends group having pure childish fun, sharing silly stories

- levitating around in pretend swim manner

- cake

- *coughs* wine *cougs*

- late night walk to the astronomy tower

- him showing you the stars

- the Dragon again, because you can never place it right

- him knowing you pretend not to know, so he can have an excuse to give you silly shoulder kisses

- you tip toeing to reach him

- passionate kisses under the stars

______________

@diyunho @lovermrjokerr @darthjokerisyourfather @littlebeautifly

Whoever enjoys it as well 😛

#birthday story #tom felton #thomas andrew felton #erich blunt #murder in the first #julian albert #julian albert desmond #the flash #logan mine #origin 2018 #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter

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movienotesbyzawmer · 4 years ago

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October 31: Strangers on a Train

After suffering through more Friday the 13th movies than anyone deserves, I’m rewarding myself on the evening of October 31 with a viewing of what I've often said is my favorite Hitchcock movie. I put it that way because I don't remember a ton about it, or even how long it's been since I've seen it. It seems unlikely that it's my favorite Hitchcock movie. How could I make such a claim when Rear Window is, like, RIGHT THERE.

This came out in 1951. Hitchcock was already a big star director by then, but most of his most well-known movies were still to come. I'm not familiar with any of the actors in this movie. Okay, let's take another look!

(SPOILERS AHEAD, of course. I'm going to describe the movie as I'm watching it.)

Farley Granger is top billed. You'd think with a name like that he'd be more famous. That's probably the whole reason he's named that in the first place. Fail!

Pretty highfalutin writing credits - Raymond Chandler wrote this screenplay based on a Patricia Highsmith novel.

It starts with this "cinematic vision" that almost feels like marketing - we see legs of people getting out of cabs with luggage, heading into a station. It's all nothin-but-legs for a minute or two until two Actual Strangers on a Train strike up a conversation.

The strangers are Bruno and Guy; Guy is a famous tennis player that Bruno recognizes. I remember enough about this movie to know that we are not wrong to find Bruno irritatingly forward as he brings up Guy's personal information that he's read about in the society section of the paper. Between this and The Talented Mr. Ripley, it seems like Ms. Highsmith had a knack for making drama out of uncomfortably doting dudes.

Eight and a half minutes in and Bruno is already starting to propose a murder of Guy's wife. It seems hasty for this conversation to have gone down this road, but it's cool that we get to this movie's cool idea so quickly. Bruno proposes killing Guy's wife in exchange for Guy killing Bruno's father. They'd both be killing strangers so it would be super hard for detectives to figure it out. Guy clearly doesn't take Bruno seriously.

For 1951, it seems surprising that these characters are so casual about the breakup of a marriage because they both have new lovers and the wife is already pregnant from her new man. I think of early fifties American culture as way too stuffy to be okay with that in a mainstream movie, but that is this movie's storyline.

Guy's wife... her appearance is kind of curious. I wonder if it looked more dislikeable at the time, but she looks like a harmless librarian. But her dialogue about blackmailing Guy to stay with her makes her unambiguously villainous.

Guy and his wife are in a heated argument in the shop where she works, and he is grabbing her and shaking her, and she looks scared! A man nearby notices and interrupts them by saying, "this isn't the place for a family quarrel!" Now THAT'S the early fifties American culture I've come to know and love.

Bruno and his mother. They are having tea or something. They are clearly tight, maybe to a dysfunctional degree. What is this household? Swanky. Bruno is wearing a silk robe. I do not understand. There's this weird thing about a painting his mother made; he delights about how it looks just like Father, and then we see it and it is some kind of abstract monster. Odd. I think it means he's nuts.

That scene ends with Bruno having a short phone conversation with Guy; Guy hangs up on him but we gather that Bruno knows that Guy's wife won't let them divorce.

So now begins what has always, for me, been the most memorable sequence. Bruno clearly thinks it is his duty to murder Guy's wife, so he follows her with two flirty young dudes to a carnival at night. I like how the lights at night look in this black & white cinematography.

Bruno is not even hiding the fact that he's following her! He just tags along behind the three of them, very visibly, and sort of smirks playfully every time she notices him, and it looks like she kind of likes the attention. Things were different in 1951.

After remaining behind her and her fellas for a couple carnival attractions, he follows them onto a Tunnel of Love boat ride. They all drive little boats along a route through the water, into and out of a cave, and to a more secluded area. There is shadow imagery in the cave that ends in a fakeout. Then there is a moment where she is alone at the secluded area and he strangles her.

There's a thing about a lighter. When Guy and Bruno were chatting on the train, Bruno noticed Guy's lighter. I didn't catch how Bruno ended up with it, but they made it very clear that Bruno has it now. And the imagery of the murder includes the lighter, as well as a stylish closeup of her glasses on the ground reflecting the murder.

0:30:50 - Bruno has shown up at Guy's pad to show him the glasses and let him know the deed is done so now it's Guy's turn. Guy is shocked, but Bruno is effectively guilt-tripping him. Guy's behavior is still pretty rational. But he's still holding onto Dead Wife's glasses. That seems like a dumb move.

Guy is now at his girlfriend's place; their chemistry is steamy, and it now seems to me like the look of Dead Wife was meant to contrast with his sultry girlfriend.

The police are investigating, and the plot kind of thickens because Guy's alibi during the murder is just a drunk guy on the train. Seems like there's enough information that he should still be okay, though, right? Hm, doesn’t look like the cops are satisfied.

More importantly, Bruno is starting to be a shadowy figure dogging Guy. One must wonder what is gonna happen… Bruno did seem to have an easy time killing that woman… has he done this before? I'm actually asking; I don't remember.

0:48:00 - Ha, Bruno went so far as to send Guy a diagram of his father's house and a key!

The next scene is cool - a relatively quiet tennis match, and the whole audience is following back and forth with their heads, but one head is not moving! It's Bruno who is just staring down Guy from the other side of the court!

Anne is Guy's girlfriend, and she is not only more glamorous than Guy's dead wife, and not only is her voice ever so sexy with its smoky alto, but she's smart enough to immediately notice that something is up with this Bruno guy, as well as with Guy's behavior w/r/t Bruno.

Oh, and then there is this strange scene - so Bruno has decided he has to insinuate himself into Anne's family's circle, which is where Anne starts to notice things. But then there is Anne's sister, who has more of a librarian look, not unlike Dead Wife… and Hitch's bold direction makes it very clear that Bruno also notices the resemblance between Dead Wife and Anne's Sister! Very strange. I don't know where it's going. I can't tell what either of them are thinking, but it's made to seem very important.

Bruno has totally created a new character for himself and is frankly being very Talented Mr. Ripley at a party where Anne's family and a bunch of fancy people are being fancy. But that goes in a strange direction… Bruno started chatting with a lady about murder, and he starts to demonstrate strangulation, but Anne's sister sees him, and they both have freakout looks on their faces, then Bruno passes out plus also he has been actually strangling that lady. I’m just reporting what I’m seeing here, folks.

Aha, we're starting to get that much-needed explanation… when Bruno and Anne's Sister noticed each other, Bruno was flashing back to killing Dead Wife because of the resemblance. And Sister noticed that he seemed to be strangling her in his mind, and she's totally right.

And Anne is such a smart cookie that she noticed the whole thing and thinks, correctly, that Bruno was flashbacking to killing Dead Wife while he was pretend-strangling the lady and seeing Sister. This one's a keeper, Guy, as long as she'll keep you.

1:04:20 - Guy and Anne seem to have an idea of how to unfuck this situation, so Guy calls Bruno and says, yeah, okay, I'll do the thing, what do I do. He doesn't really intend to do the murder, does he? I don't think the movie is actually trying to get us to think that. But I must say, I'm super glad that I don't remember how this turns out.

Oh, it's coming back to me as it's unfolding. Guy sneaks in and, in darkness and shadows, approaches Bruno's Father's bed just as if he's gonna do it, but just like we're thinking we'd do, he starts to tell the father about what's going on. But then it turns out it's actually Bruno in the bed! It's tense for a bit, but Bruno lets Guy leave, but says he's going to think of a clever way to get him back for breaking their deal. A bit anti-climactic.

Anne is endlessly proactive, I must say; just like that, she is paying a call to Bruno's mother to warn him about Bruno. But Bruno's mother is clueless. And now, before Anne leaves, here's Bruno, back in that Liberace robe. He's unloading a bunch of bullshit on Anne, trying to convince her that Guy actually did it. But come on, we have seen how smart Anne is, she's not gonna fall for that, right? Bruno references the lighter; he says something about "Guy wanted me to go back for the lighter but I couldn't do it". So yeah, the lighter stuff is coming together.

Okay, now it's going to get all tennis-y because Guy has a tennis match before a very large crowd. He and Anne have an idea about dealing with the lighter, I think, but Guy has to play the match or it will be suspicious to the cops who are constantly observing him. Oh, if only he could win the match quickly! We're watching them try for that. This is a sports drama. Do you think this movie inspired Rudy?

I think they think the lighter is actually at the murder scene, right?

WHO will WIN the TENNIS MATCH?! And HOW QUICKLY?!

1:21:20 - Wait, what was that about garments in the cab? Sister had to go get the cab ready so they could amscray right after the match, and they showed some folded clothes in the back seat. A red herring? A Maguffin? A proverbial damning lighter?

Meanwhile Bruno is lurking around, and he accidentally drops the lighter into a sewer drain! And he gets some people to help get it out, but he keeps calling it his cigarette case. Not lighter, “cigarette case”. Is that part of it? Our minds reel… the lighter! The garments! The cigarette case! The glasses? The tennis match! THE TENNIS MATCH! Oh what a tangled web.

I mock, but it is suspenseful.

You guys. Bruno got the lighter back out of the sewer. And guess who won the tennis match. Why, it was our hero, Guy! But the cops who are tailing Guy will be suspicious if he hustles away from the match to go get a clue from the murder scene, so Sister does some distracting. Also, the garments were something for Guy to change into so that the cops might not recognize him later. Now I get it. Only NOW do I get it.

None of that worked, though; the cops easily figured out that Guy is going to the murder scene.

Bruno is already there, though, at the carnival, but he wants to plant the lighter after dark. He asks a carnie what time it gets dark around here. What the carnie should have said was "dude, you're from close enough to here, why do you think you need to demand this information from a carnie?" The carnie doesn't say that, but at least he is pretty rude to Bruno so it's okay.

Is Bruno planning on tipping the police to the presence of the lighter? Not exactly sure what his scheme is.

Ooh! Bruno is spotted by someone who remembered him getting off a boat after the murder! Busted!

Oh, I don't think that's how carousels work… okay so after people started pointing at Bruno, he freaked out and fired his gun… and shot the nearby carousel attendant, whose death-collapse makes the carousel go way too fast! You know, because he slumps on the lever and the carousel thinks that means GoTooFast! And Guy is on there with Bruno! They tussle! They tussle! Fast carousel!

A heroic old carnie says he can make the carousel not spin so fast… he then goes fully prone and crawls under the runaway carousel! Why in tarnation is THAT the solution! He is an old, old carnie! Maybe it is the same one who was rude to Bruno. That means we really love this brave fool.

Bruno and Guy are still rasslin' on the carousel, plus a kid got injured. It's all so terribly dangerous, and suspenseful!

Whoa, the carnie accomplished his mission of getting to the middle area to pull the carousel lever and it totally borks the fast-spinning carousel; all kinds of damage is done, people and plastic horses and wood things go flying everywhere and it is a super bad disaster. But everything is ever so close to being resolved. Guy just has to convince the cops that Bruno, who is pinned under a pile of broken carousel components, has the lighter with him. It's kind of hard but eventually they see it in his hand. It's all over! Everything is okay.

The denouement is that Guy and Anne are on a train ride feeling terribly relieved that everything is okay, and a stranger wants to chat so they leave in a funny huff.

So that was just fine, but certainly not "the best Alfred Hitchcock movie". Definitely a really good one, though! Bruno is a unique and compelling villain, and they kept the suspense going very consistently.

Using the tools of the Age of Information has uncovered some other interesting nuggets… Bruno is played by Robert Walker, who died at age 32 shortly after this came out! He had struggled with alcoholism and mental health issues, having actually been an asylum patient at one point. He had also been married to, and divorced from, no less than Jennifer Jones. Another interesting cast member is Patricia Hitchcock, Albert's daughter; she plays Sister. Much is made of Hitch's sly, maybe-vain cameos in his movies but also sometimes his daughter had actual speaking roles. She is still alive at age 92 as I type this.

One more note is that I’m pretty sure that I saw Throw Momma from the Train before I saw this, when it was in theaters even maybe, but even then I knew it was kind of a comedy sorta-version of this, obviously referencing it but also being very much its own thing. Now I find myself probably needing to see that again.

#strangers on a train #hitchcock

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thejudgingtrash · 5 years ago

Note

Percy and Annabeth would 100% do their own version of the Halloween Heist every year. Annabeth obviously wins year one but as more people are pulled in the Title of Best Demigod/Satyr/Centaur gets passed around a lot.

You know what? Fuck it! Mini Fanfic time! Annabeth winning hmmm? I’m actually busy with not going crazy during quarantine and working on my feature length Percabeth fic (coming out in 2025, I guess). And it’s way too early (or late) for Halloween. But let’s do this! One shitty fic - hot and fresh out of the oven!

The Halloween Heist

The plan was ready and set. They all would do it one last time together before their paths separated and all of them drifted apart like gusts of wind. The heroes of Camp Half-Blood reunited one last time before college hit the last of them. They wanted to relive a normal holiday together, just this once.

Annabeth and Malcom set up different routes; A, B and C throughout New York City, Manhattan specifically. Those that could, joined. And would the little kids that were on the streets going to be respected? Definitely not. Of course, it would be a competition – who would turn out to be the one most successful? Whose group would be candy lords or ladies of the night? Who looked the most horrifying?

Everyone agreed that in the last part they all lost. None of them dressed in the true horrifying manner of the Halloween tradition. The Stolls’ were dressed as super heroes, Connor as Batman and Travis as The Flash. Katie joined them as Poison Ivy. Clarisse pulled off a solid Sarah Connor and her boyfriend Chris stood proudly next to her as The Terminator. The only person that looked slightly scary was Malcom. He was dressed as a zombie and his eye bags stemming from the latest project he had been working on through the entire night added to the nature of his character.

“Well!” Percy exclaimed and tapped the floor with a wooden trident. “Let the games begin!”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. He wore khaki shorts, flip flops and a Hawaii themed shirt and those stupid pink window blinds sunglasses from 2012. “That’s just purely lazy! You dress up like your father every time on Halloween.”

“And it works just fine every time,” he said after sharing a soft kiss. Not only that, his outfit was unironically super comfortable. His hair tickled her. The only good thing was that he had actually grown out a beard which hugged his handsome face very tightly.

Percy raised a black eyebrow. “What are you going for?”

Annabeth looked like she had raided Paul’s wardrobe. Light dress shirt, ugly green sweater vest, tight black jeans and goddamn Birkenstock shoes. Her blonde curls were gelled back and put into a tight bun. The dark frames of her glasses oozed sexy librarian but the expression on her face only said shhh!

“Sexy Chiron with a third eye and without the horse ass end?” Chris and Malcom grinned, Katie snorted whereas the Stolls’ and Clarisse shared a loud cackle. Annabeth looked like she wanted to murder him.

“No! I’m Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale,” she corrected him.

“Cecil?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We listened to the first 100 episodes together! The lore, the intricacy, the little pieces you have to put together,” Annabeth looked very adorable whenever she was nerding and ranting about her passions.

“Well, The Weather is quite nice.” That was all Percy had to add.

“That means we have to re-listen everything!” Annabeth decided. Percy simply nodded. Yes, they would re-listen.

“We?” Katie raised a red dyed eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that you’ve become a we couple.”

“Of course not!” both denied. “And don’t be so sarcastic, Percy! We will re-listen!”

Clatter. The group turned to their right. Grover appeared wearing a flower crown on top of his horns, a torn green dress shirt… and nothing further down below. “That’s just unfair!” The Stolls’ yelled and pointed at his dark hairy goat legs.

“No, this is a way of nature saying, Grover you got this. Also be nice! Me taking off time as a Lord of the Wild should be considered a blessing,” the black satyr grinned.

The brothers huffed and Malcom rolled his eyes. “Where’s Juniper?” Annabeth asked.

“Couldn’t make it unfortunately,” the Grover pouted.

“And Will and Nico? Will promised us 90s Justin Timberlake with a puka shell necklace, meanest frosted tips and Donald Trump tan!”

The satyr shrugged. “They have decided that re-watching Corpse Bride for the millionth time was more important. Anyway. Annabeth, you got the straws?”

“Of course, I do. We have three groups á three people. Red is A, blue is B and green is C. Biggest candy stash wins, got it? Ultimate bragging rights, the last prank idea on Chiron and blue cupcakes from Sally. Let the Fates decide!”

“You sure about that?”

“Percy, shut up! Let’s just do this.”

The participants nodded. Team A consisted of Percy, Clarisse and Travis. Team B were Annabeth, Chris and Malcom. Lastly Team C was made up by Grover, Katie and Connor.

“Two Athena kids in one group is just unfair,” Clarisse huffed.

“Deal with it,” Malcom grinned. “You know the routes? Let’s begin! You’ve got three hours!”

*****

Percy rang the bell. A middle-aged woman with curlers opened the door. “Yes?” she mustered him.

Percy cleared his throat. “Lord Poseidon demands all of your candy!” he said with a deep booming voice.

The woman stared at him weirdly. “Poseidon as in the god of sea? Since when does a Greek god look like homeless person wandering around the beach?”

“Uh…Since always?”

“Alright, fair enough.”

*****

A young man opened the door. Annabeth was greeted by the smell of grease, Cheetos and bleach. The meanest hotbox fumes smacked her across the face. She coughed and felt her eyes tearing up. She wanted to experience the rush of winning, not feel that kind of high just yet.

“That your Halloween costume?” She simply nodded.

“Fucking sick, dude! You look like my college professor!”

“Well in that case hand your assignments in or give me all of your candy,” she grinned.

*****

A young mother and her daughter opened up for Grover.

“Wow! I want that costume mommy!” wailed the girl.

“Ellie, you’re already a witch. But how did you create those legs? They look so real?”

“They came off pretty naturally,” Grover shrugged.

“And the horns?!”

“I can’t spill all of my secrets, I’m afraid. I am but a humble servant of nature asking you to give something sweet back to us.”

The woman giggled. “Oh, and he’s a poet as well!”

“Uhh no?” denied Grover.

“Here take some of our candy!”

“Okay! Nature won’t forget your service, ma’am! And neither yours, Ellie!”

*****

The nine gathered at the Jackson’s hours later. Each team piled their candy stock. It was a clear-cut victory. Annabeth and Malcom looked proudly at their stash.

“We did it!” Katie yelled behind them. Team Grover won, they nearly covered the entire floor with chocolates and packs of sour patches. Satyr bonus probably. The Athena siblings lost their victorious smiles immediately.

“Looks like Team Athina kids lost!” Grover exclaimed with a smirk.

Annabeth looked like she’d all of a sudden love to possess Chiron’s horse ass to give him a massive horse kick. “Wait! Do we count the total mass or the individual candy because in that sense we would have won?” she questioned.

“Everyone saying that Annabeth would never cheat can now clearly tell that that was a fucking lie!” Percy shook his head.

“Well, work smart not hard,” Annabeth stuck her tongue out.

“There can always be a next time if we coordinate! And we will crush you!”

The End

#they're all ooc because they're essentially me. also this shit's wack. why am I posting this. well too late I guess #pjo #pjo fanfic #halloween au #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #grover underwood #katie gardner #malcom pace #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse la rue #chris rodriguez #travis stoll #connor stoll #mel writes

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scoffee-lover · 5 years ago

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stupid smile | knj

pair: schoolmate|namjoon x reader

genre: fluff uwu

plot: kim namjoon has had a crush on you for ages now and he’s going to be making his move on you--take you out on a date, perhaps?

WARNING: DRABBLE #2 forgive me

School was quite hectic for you, especially since you’re a Senior and you would be graduating in less than 5 months. You have not much participated in any parties that your friend, Kim Seokjin, have been inviting you to and you don’t even have much time that all of your suitors were turned down immediately once they tried to make a move on you.

You were just too busy.

Or you try to convince yourself that you are because amidst that busy-ness that you have been putting up to your friends, part of that busy schedule was meeting up with the soon-valedictorian of your high school, Kim Namjoon. As your tutor, of course, for your failing Math and Science subjects. He became your tutor because you basically begged him to and offered money, but the kind boy just refused and offered to do this stuff for free.

Also, a little bit guilty that you have been oogling at the boy, ever since freshmen year. With his kind heart, sexy brain, cute manners, handsome face and charming dimples, who would not have a crush on him? You were basically head over heels for the boy, but you don’t really confess to him due to the fact that the said boy was focused to finish his studies and perhaps enter Law School. Which probably made you fall for him more. You’re such an idiot, but you love it.

Did you mention that he looked so cute in casual clothing? Namjoon was wearing a brown overalls and a navy blue hoodie with a blue cap. He did not look like an intelligent valedictorian without his signature glasses on, but it’s okay--he still looked ravishing. He’d look good with anything.

“And that’s how you can find the x in these types of problems. Just my own tip and you know, strategy.” Kim Namjoon finishes and looked back at you with a dimpled smile.

You just stared at him blankly--okay, not so blankly because you have that actual heart shaped eyes and dreamy composure that probably made it clear to everyone in the room that your attention was not in the math problem that you were having trouble with but with the boy that was in front of you. The two of you were in the library to study, a few couple people here and there but not too much--but you felt like it was only the two of you.

Puppy love.

“Y/n?”

“Hey, y/n?” Namjoon was starting to worry that he started waving in front of your face, which you suddenly fell into rock hard reality and not in y/n’s lalaland. Your eyes widened and gave a tight lip smile at Namjoon, clearing your throat and looking back at the formula and strategy that he has been explaining for the past 15 minutes.

“Ah- Ye...Yeah? Oh, I totally get it.” You chuckled, awkwardly trying to get away from the situation that he in fact saw you staring at him. You avoided his eyes and started to fidget on your stuff, slowly putting them back in the bag.

You were so stupid! Stupid y/n! That was so embarrassing.

You swallowed the lump on your throat and begun to stand up, “Thank you Namjoon, so much! Uhm, You’ve exceed my expectations.” You gave a small laugh and bit your lip. Your hands went to pick up your book when his hand grabbed your wrist.

It’s warm.

His hand was warm.

That’s what you noticed first, when the smile on your face disappeared and you met his brown eyes. Brown eyes that you can definitely stare for eternity.

“Wait... Y/n.” He said softly. He licked his lips, staring at your standing form and he shot up that caused a loud screech of the chair.

“Hey! You back there! Keep it down!” The Librarian shushed, which Namjoon bowed a sorry to before slowly tightening his grip on your wrist. He looked back at you, towering on your form as he seemed to ponder on what to say. He couldn’t say it, he continued to ponder on what to say that his face was slowly turning red. He was blushing.

Damn, you find that endearing.

He stepped closer to you and this time, making you drop the things you were holding as he took both of your hands in his. You watched as his hands held yours, his hands being a whole lot bigger engulfing your small ones. He looked down at you and stared at you then at your lips, you begun to close your eyes as he leaned in.

“I’m not going to kiss you just yet, y/n.” He whispered, a small laugh coming from him as you open your eyes and your face became red with embarrassment and at the thought of Kim Namjoon kissing you. Butterflies were rampaging inside your stomach, staring at the soft lips of Kim Namjoon.

“Then why are you this close to me?” You asked softly, finding your voice but it soon failed when a dimpled smile graced his face. Taking off his cap to find a blonde hair underneath and placing it on your head, as if already marking you that you’re his.

“I want to take you out, on a date. If you let me.” He said, looking straight at your eyes, a sincere look on his face.

“Hmm?” You squeaked.

Namjoon scrunched his nose at your cuteness and patted your head, “I’ve liked you since forever, Y/n. That girl who is so pretty yet she wasn’t even aware. I know that you have been turning down your suit--”

“Yes.” Your brain responded quickly and here you thought, after his confession y/n’sbrain.exe started malfunctioning.

“Huh?”

You stood on your toes and gave him an innocent kiss on the cheek.

“I said yes.”

Then a stupid smile started growing on his face, his dimples showing and his eyes disappearing from the view. Cutely stepping back to hug you but he tripped backwards on your chair, creating a noise that made the librarian glare at your way, You suddenly rushed on the ground to his side-- he tripped and is probably in pain but that stupid smile doesn’t leave his face.

“So, we can say we’re dating now?”

#kim namjoon #kim #namjoon #kimnamjoonfluff #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon au #bts namjoon #rm #bangtan sonyeondan au #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #rap monster #rapmon #cute #lovers #moonchild #koya

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unapologeticallyjaylos · 5 years ago

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descendants 12 days of holidays: snow

title: let it snow

rating: a few curse words maybe

pairings: jay x carlos ; evie x mal

this is a total rough draft :) but i jumped on an idea and ran with it so...

-----

Carlos’ face was cold. His nose was cold. His ears were cold. Everything was cold.

“Remind me never to go agree to go shopping with Evie in December,” he said to his dog, glancing down at the little pup who was rightfully bundled into a small sweater. “It’s just too damn cold.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” a voice behind him laughed. He turned to see Evie - somehow dressed warmly to the nines in a fluffy knit scarf and thigh high boots - standing right behind him. “Besides, we’ll be inside shops mostly, and it’ll be warm in there. It’s so cute out here in December. You’ve been in the library for weeks - it’s time to take a little break!”

“I’m trying to get into college,” he mumbled, noting the wreaths and lights decorating the quaint downtown shopping area. He had to admit - the place did look a hell of a lot more festive than the library.

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder and began to move towards the closest storefront. “But it’s okay to have a little fun.” Evie glanced over her shoulder with a little wink. “Maybe you’ll even meet someone.”

“Doubtful.” Carlos gathered Dude into his arms and followed her. “Just because you met your girlfriend at the art showcase in downtown doesn’t mean it’s matchmaking central!”

Her laugh rang out as she opened the door, holding it for him to step inside. The store turned out to be one of Evie’s favorite boutiques (and he secretly wondered if she’d told him to meet nearby on purpose). Even some of the employees seemed to know her by name.

Now that they were inside - and his body was starting to thaw out - he was feeling a bit more excited. Carlos really did love trying on clothes and browsing the latest styles.

“You should definitely get this,” Evie laughed, holding up a black and white cropped sweater.

“I’m cold in an actual coat!” Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “I think I’ll freeze to death if I cut off any more material!”

“But you would look so sexy,” Evie grinned, her eyes gleaming. After a moment, she picked up a slimp-fitted, black and white turtleneck. “Come on, Carlitos, what about this one? Will you try it on? For me?”

Rolling his eyes, the corners of Carlos’ mouth tugged into a reluctant smile. Evie really was so cute - her nose still pink from the cold and eyes bright with the idea of shopping the entire afternoon together. And she did have a good eye - the sweater really was perfect for him. So, he found his size and slipped into one of the fitting rooms.

“How does it look?” came Evie’s eager voice from the other side of the curtain. “Am I a genius or am I a genius?”

Carlos tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror. The sweater hugged his body nicely, and the color scheme matched his own perfectly (which really wasn’t hard since he tended to stick to black, white, and red).

“You’re gonna make me buy this, aren’t you?” Carlos laughed, turning his body to see the sweater from all angles.

“I don’t know.” That spark was back - this time in Evie’s voice. “You haven’t let me see it, yet.”

He pulled aside the curtain, fidgeting with the sleeve nervously. Carlos didn’t need Evie to say anything to know exactly what she thought; her face lit up like it always did when she’d found the perfect material or finally settled on the right neckline style for her dress designs. She was hoping to get into design school, and personally, Carlos considered her the best designer he knew.

“You like it.” He folded his arms. “I can tell.”

“I -” Evie bit her lip to keep from smiling too hard. “It’s just so you. But I won’t force you to get it. I know money is tight around the holidays.”

Carlos nodded, checking the price tag. It was way out of his usual price range, and even though he had a little saved up from working overtime at the animal shelter, he wasn’t ready to blow it all on one sweater - even if it was a pretty good one. “Evie… there’s no way. I haven’t even spent this much groceries this month, how can I -”

“I’ll get it.” Evie was already pulling out her wallet.

But Carlos stopped her, shaking his head. “No, no. You already agreed - no charity. I can handle myself.”

“It’s not charity.” She met his gaze. “It’s a Christmas present. From me to you.”

Rubbing his forehead, Carlos sighed. He hated that a part of him was actually considering believing her. “If you get this for me now,” he warned. “No more presents. This is the only one, alright? I’ll wear it on Christmas Eve, but you can’t get me anything else!”

“Deal!” Evie practically squealed the word.

Carlos moved to change back into his other clothes, but she stopped him, insisting he should wear it out. And - because, really, he did like the thing - Carlos agreed.

It had started to snow outside and when they stepped out to untie Dude from the post out front, Carlos hurriedly picked him up and whispered apologies in his ear.

“It’s too cold to leave him outside anymore,” he told Evie, gesturing at the fat white flakes floating lazily to the ground. “I don’t care what the shop owners say.”

“We should get something to warm up,” Evie announced, her breath making white clouds in the freezing air. Snowflakes nestled themselves in her curls, popping brilliant against the blue hair.

“There’s a coffee shop down across the street.” Carlos pointed to the awning. He could definitely go for a hot chocolate.

“Uh -” Evie blinked, an unreadable expression flitting across her face for half a second. “Actually, I was thinking we could go to a different one. There’s a shop just down here that has the best drinks. And it’s dog friendly!” She took off, walking briskly.

Puzzled, Carlos followed. “How often do you get coffee down here?”

“As much as I shop.”

“So all the time, then.”

They walked together through the snow, and by the time they reached the coffee shop, Carlos’ entire face was numb again. He didn’t hate the snow, but he definitely prefer not to be outside in it. He liked to be at the library - curled up with tea and a book, maybe - warm and cozy while the snow fell just beyond the large bay windows.

The bell on the door jingled as they stepped inside and suddenly, Carlos’ nostrils were warmed by the scent of freshly roasted coffee. Machines hissed behind the counter, and every few moments, steam would rise up.

“E!”

Carlos - who was still clutching Dude to his chest - turned towards the voice. A familiar purple-haired girl was walking towards them.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Evie positively giggled, leaning forward to peck her girlfriend’s lips.

Mal grinned, as if the two of them were somehow in on a joke. “Nice to see you, Carlos. How’s the library been?”

“Evie,” Carlos groaned. “What are you telling her?”

“Not much.” Mal nudged him playfully. “Just that you’ve been holed inside that building all holiday season long under the pretense of college apps.”

Carlos folded his arms, trying to hide his smile. “Pretense, huh? What does she think I’m doing all day, then? Enjoyed the company of the librarians?”

“What’s good?” a new voice asked, and suddenly, their circle widened to include a guy with long, dark hair and… very well built biceps. Well- built… everything, actually. “Mal? Oh, hey again, Eves. You ever finish that blue dress you were working on?”

Evie clasped her hands together - looking pleased he’d remembered. “Hi, Jay. Yes, I did. It’s going to look so lovely when the material comes in. At first I thought I’d ordered enough chiffon, but as it turned out -” She stopped short, shaking her head. “But never mind all that. I - uh - don’t think you and Carlos have met, yet.”

Carlos suddenly felt very small. He clutched Dude tighter, shifting from foot to foot. The guy - Jay - was without a doubt attractive, and he sounded genuinely excited to see Evie. How long had she known this guy? She’d never talked about a gorgeous guy with long hair and a laugh that made his gut flutter just a little. A lot.

“Uh -” he swallowed hard, his fingers curling around the neck of Dude’s sweater. “Hi. I’m Carlos. But - yeah, she already… she already said that.”

“Cute pup.”

For a wild moment, Carlos thought Jay had called him “Pup” - Evie was always insisting he looked like a puppy - but then he remembered that he was holding a dog. “This is Dude.” He smiled down at his dog.

“He’s got a sweater.” Jay looked genuinely amused, and Carlos figured it was a good sign that he wasn’t weirded out already. “And,” he winked. “I think he might look almost as handsome as you do in yours.”

Carlos nearly took a step backwards. Was Jay flirting with him? “Uh - thanks. I - do I know you? From somewhere?”

“School,” Jay answered, nodding his head slightly. “I see you around campus all the time. You’re like… a genius, right? You’ve won the science fair like… every year. And you won the robotics competition or something about a month ago.”

“Oh, so you’ve been stalking me?” Carlos laughed, his eyebrows shooting up. He couldn’t quite tell if he liked the butterflies that had taken root in his chest. “How come -”

“Trust me,” Jay said with another cocky toss of his head. “All the bad kids know the good kids because we can get something from you nerds. You just don’t pay us any attention because, well, why should you?”

So that’s what all that charm was, Carlos nodded, feeling almost relieved that he’d found an explanation. He wants me to do his homework or something.

Mal smacked Jay’s arm, rolling his eyes. “Christ,” she muttered, and Carlos suddenly remembered that the girls were standing right there.

“Carlos also spends all his time studying these days,” Evie jumped in. “I’m always telling him that it’s okay to get out a little.”

“You wanna order drinks?” Carlos glanced up at the counter; he still hadn’t forgotten about that hot chocolate.

“I already got E something.” Mal pointed to a table in the corner with three cups. “She usually swings by around this time, and I know her order. Jay, you wanna go with Carlos to order something?”

“Sure.” Jay extended his hands in a mock gesture forward. “After you.”

Carlos handed Dude to Evie before joining the back of the line - which was much longer now that the novelty of the snow had worn off and other holiday shoppers needed warmth.

“Let me guess -” Jay held up a hand, squinting at the menu. “You like peppermint mochas.”

“Wrong.” Carlos shook his head. “Hot chocolate.”

“Damn.” Jay shook his head. “I didn’t get the flavor or the drink.”

“Well, I like chocolate everything.” That was definitely true, and he was man enough to admit it. “Cocoa mocha would’ve been a much better guess for me.” He studied Jay’s face, narrowing his eyes as the line slowly inched towards the register. “Let me guess your drink… black coffee. No cream.”

Jay’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. You really are a genius.”

Carlos tried to keep a straight face, but his face quickly split into a smile and he even snorted a bit. “Or two of the drinks on the table Mal pointed to back there were black coffees. Neither seemed to have cream, and the other drink had to be Evie’s because she always likes hers super blonde.”

“I mean,” Jay made a face. “I’ll give you points for conversation skills.”

Once Carlos ordered his hot chocolate, the two of them moved off to the side to wait for it.

“You’re actually in my health class,” Jay said offhandedly, taking Carlos by surprise.

“I am?” He frowned, trying to remember if he’d ever seen Jay in there. “Fourth period?”

“Yeah.” Jay raised his arms half heartedly. “I’m in the back by that poster of the awful car wreck.”

“The Metal Monster?” Carlos asked excitedly. “That’s what Evie and I call it. It’s just a hunk of shredded metal - fucking terrifiyng. You know, I hate that they use fear tactics to try and scare us into being good drivers and citizens and sexually active teens. It’s like they take joy in watching kids shit their pants every time they try and tell us about STDs.”

Jay threw back his head, laughing, and that good feeling flared up inside Carlos again. He was definitely warm now. Most people didn’t find Carlos funny. Actually, most people didn’t talk to him much at all unless they were asking to be in a group project so he could do all the work or to beg for last minute homework answers.

“You know,” Jay smiled, jerking his head towards Mal and Evie. “When Mal mentioned Evie was bringing her cute, smart friend today, I definitely didn’t expect you to actually fit the description.”

Wait a second.

Carlos’ eyes narrowed. “Evie mentioned that she was bringing me?”

The new sweater, the shopping trip, the specific coffee shop… Evie was definitely without a doubt one hundred percent trying to set him up with Jay.

“That sneaky little shit,” Carlos muttered, shaking his head. “I really should’ve known. She’s not as subtle as she thinks she is.”

“What?”

Shaking his head, Carlos ran a hand through his hair. “Evie. She’s trying…” he lowered his voice, glancing over at the girls who were pretending like they weren’t watching him. “She’s trying to, um, get me to be more social.” He wouldn’t admit to Jay that Evie was trying to play matchmaker. Jay would get weirded out, and then Carlos would have to make some sort of joke about it and he’d be crushed.

Shit, Carlos sighed inwardly. You’ve been talking to this guy for maybe ten minutes and you’re already crushing on him. This isn’t like you, de Vil.

“More social?” Jay looked at him, his eyebrows knitting together. “As in…”

“Making friends.” Carlos waved his hand dismissively. “Going on dates. Not… spending all my time inside the library because everyone else has a boyfriend around the holidays and you don’t.”

He paused, his heart pounding; he’d sort of accidentally outed himself. Carlos wasn’t scared necessarily - most people knew he was gay - but there was still a shot of fear every time someone new found out. He looked up at Jay, setting his jaw and waiting for a reaction.

“Not Evie.” Jay laughed and pointed to the girls again. “Evie’s got a girlfriend. Not a boyfriend. And you said everyone has a boyfriend.”

Relief flooded Carlos’ limbs and he smiled. “You know,” he said, pretending to be serious. “I really should’ve used you to vet Mal. Is she gonna take care of my girl? Treat her right?”

“Yeah.” The laughter and easy charm vanished from Jay’s face for a moment; he was serious. “She’s good.” After a few moments, he raised an eyebrow. “You know, you could have Mal vet me.”

“Vet you?” Carlos folded his arms. “And why would I do that?”

Before Jay could answer, the man at the counter called Carlos’ name and he stepped forward to grab his drink, wrapping his hands around the warm paper cup.

“I suppose we should sit back down,” Carlos laughed. “Or else face the endless teasing from Evie and Mal.”

“Wait.” Jay held up a hand. “Just - before we sit - I wanted to ask you out. Doesn’t have to be… big or anything - just - a coffee date?”

“It’s supposed to snow all week.” Carlos said it without thinking, and the immediate disappointment that clouded Jay’s face gave him pause. Was Jay being serious? Did this guy actually want to take him out? “Wait - you meant that seriously?”

“If you’re gonna say no,” Jay said. “Then I’m not serious.”

“What if I wanted to say yes?” Carlos couldn’t imagine what Jay would see in him; no one ever saw much in him other than a way to get homework answers and project grades. It was very probable that Jay would just messing with him, waiting for Carlos to agree and then laugh.

But Jay just smiled and chewed his lower lip. “Then I’ll meet you back here on Wednesday. After school. And bring the dog. I wanna see his little sweater again.”

“He’s got more than just that one.” Carlos knew he was blushing.

“Dope.”

----

And if Evie teased him for the rest of eternity, Carlos didn’t care. If Mal nudged Jay every time he went up to talk to him in the hallway at school, he didn’t care.

On a snowy Saturday afternoon inside a bright and warm coffee house wearing a brand new sweater, Carlos found a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.

Who knew, he mused contently, leaning on Jay’s shoulder as Evie’s Christmas Eve party bustled all around them. Who knew the snow and a very nosy best friend would help me find me a boyfriend.

#jaylos #12daysofdescendants #malvie #writing #deardescendants #my writing #snow

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