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atsumiyass · 3 years

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Bakusquad during christmas

here’s a lil something for christmas since i’m feelin in the spirit - venus

warnings: fluff, platonic relationships

Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou would definitely take on cooking duty.

We all know mans can cook BOMB ASS FOOD.

He literally wouldn't let anyone else take on the job so...

But I feel like if you tried to help out he wouldn’t care as much

Bc he has a soft spot for you, ofc.

Also bc he knows you can cook pretty good as well.

So you both spend the afternoon cooking together.

Which turned out to be fun...

Apart from when you almost burned down the whole dorm building but we dont talk about that.

Once you finished putting away the food for tomorrow, you had the amazing idea of watching a Christmas movie to get into the spirit and relax after all your hard work.

it took some begging, but he finally agreed.

as long as you watched whatever he wanted, of course

but i mean who were you to say no to Bakugou

you made your way to his dorm since he had a tv and you didn’t

lucky prick

he put the disc in and you both settled on the wall where his bed was, a few feet apart from each other

but you’re y/n, and you’re in desperate need of attention

and it was cold

and Bakugou just happened to be a couple feet away

so the only logical option would be to snuggle up next to him

it took some courage but when you did, he surprisingly didn’t mind

he actually put his arm around you.

you took the chance and snuggled in closer.

soft Bakugou was a once in a lifetime experience, you had to take advantage of it.

especially since he would never act like this in front of the others

“so do you think they’ll like the food?” you asked, looking up at him.

“hell yeah they will, we made it didn’t we?” He replied, not looking away from the screen.

you smiled and turned back to the movie.

This Christmas was gonna be one to remember, thats for sure.

Eijirou Kirishima

This baby is on christmas tree duty

he asked you to tag along tho, for support

and bc he has a lil crush on you but you didn’t hear it from me (;

you both get to the common area and take a look at the empty Christmas tree

its huge.

like,

as tall as the ceiling huge.

you might have to call Uraraka for this one

you looked at each other like

“this is gonna take awhile.”

so you both get to work, first stringing the multi-colored lights around the tree

luckily they didn’t get all tangled up in the tree, so it didn’t take that long

(you actually ended up calling Uraraka to help you since it was so high up)

Once that was done, you continued on with the tinsel.

which ended up in it all getting tangled from you both fooling around.

in the trash it goes.

Next was the ornaments.

They varied from red, to white, to even hero themed ones.

you started from the bottom this time, not wanting to get Uraraka again

you decided to turn on some christmas music to set the mood since you both were just sitting in awkward silence for a hot minute

i hc that kiri get shy around his crush pls

so once you got the perfect spotify playlist going you went back to working on the tree, humming along to the song.

little did you know Kirishima was on the other side of the tree, having an internal conflict.

does he talk to you? does he make a joke? does he not say anything? does he-

“hey do we have anymore red ones?” he heard your voice, making him breathe a sigh of relief.

“yeah here..” he said going to grab one.

but ofc you didn’t hear him

so you also went to go grab one

and just like those cheesy romance movies

your hand landed on top of his.

you both looked up at each other and quickly pulled your hands back.

You felt your face heat up as you nervously laughed and picked up the ornament, making your way back to your side of the tree.

my shy, oblivious babies tsk tsk

Soon enough you finished all the ornaments and stood back to observe your work.

it honestly looked really good.

“wow Eji, it looks great dontcha think?” you asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah we did a super good job! great work y/n!” He said, giving you his signature sharky smile along with a thumbs up

your heart: doki doki

Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head

you had forgotten the star!!!

the most important part!!!!!

wtf y/n smh do better

you dug around in the christmas box for the star, which you soon found.

“hey could you go get Ochaco again? we gotta put up the star.” You called out to him.

“I think she’s out training with the other girls, i’m sure we can handle it.” he said confidently.

you guys couldn’t handle it.

somehow you ended up on top of him after falling off his shoulders.

could this get anymore cliché srsly.

luckily the star hadn't broke, so with the help of Ochaco this time, you got it up all nice and snug.

You plugged in the cords and the tree lit up, the rainbow lights and golden star illuminating the room.

your eyes sparkled in admiration, as the whole class gawked at you and Kirishimas work.

“You’re such a good team guys!” Yaoyorozu said, clapping her hands together with a smile.

and that, you were.

Denki Kaminari

Denki our electric boy would be on presents duty.

how did you end up tagging along with him?

you offered to go, like the kind person you are.

you actually wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t accidently break something or pick up the wrong presents.

either way

you both arrived at the first store to pick up Mr. Aizawas present, since the whole class chipped in to get him something as a thank you.

you got to the counter and gave the clerk the receipt, and they went to the back to get the order.

what you didn’t know was that while you were there, Kaminari was wondering around the store touching everything he possibly could.

it was only a matter of time before he broke something

you soon realize he isn’t behind you so you go to look for him since the clerk is still in the back

“Kaminari? Where did you go?” You call out to him, but hear no response.

You continue in the store, searching every rack to see if he was hiding inside (yes Denki is childish what about it)

you do end up finding him though

just, not in the way you would imagine.

“Denki what happened?” You asked, speed walking over to a stupefied Kaminari

you saw two batteries on the ground and connected the dots.

of course.

you sighed, picking up the batteries and putting them back on the shelf.

“c’mon you big oaf, lets get back.” you sighed again, guiding Kaminari back to the front

once you got back to the counter the clerk had already come back, present in hand.

they looked at you like “da fawk are these bitches doing”

you grabbed the bag from the counter, thanked the clerk, and left.

(yes you paid smh you aint no robber)

Hand in hand with Kaminari you made it back to the dorms in one piece thankfully and by that time he had gotten back to a somewhat normal state

as normal as he can be

When the rest of the class asked what happened, you told them:

“just Kaminari, being Kaminari.”

Mina Ashido

you and Mina would def go ugly sweater shopping together.

both of you would force the guys (Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero) to wear them all throughout the Christmas party.

so you headed over to the nearest mall to pick some out for everyone, since (in Minas words) you both have “exquisite taste in fashion”.

which you dont, but they dont know that.

Once you entered the shop you both sprinted and got yelled at to the sweaters section and started to look through the racks.

“Ouu this one just screams Bakugou!” she exclaimed, pulling one from the rack.

It was red, covered in stars, ornaments, and ugly santas with orange words that read ‘Merry Christmas’ across the sweater in cursive.

yeah he would hate it, but then again thats the whole point.

“definitely, lets get it.”

After about an hour or so of picking out unique (ugly asf) sweaters for each of the boys, you paid and left the store.

The day of the party soon rolled around and you got your sweaters on, heading over to the boys’ dorms to give them theirs.

Bakugou: Hell no!

Y/n: pretty pleaseee *puppy dog eyes*

Bakugou: .....fine.

Kirishima: aw yeah cool! I'm gonna look super manly in this!

Sero: I have a bad feeling about this, eh whatever.

Kaminari: we’re gonna look so stupid in these hahaha!

Once they all came out in their sweaters, you and Mina had a whole ass FIT OF LAUGHER

like I'm talking a good 10 minutes on the floor.

After getting yelled at by Bakugou, you headed over to everyone else.

but not before fist bumping Mina in victory.

“We’re so doing this next year.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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aslanjadecarlyle · 5 years

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o captain, my captain (Barlyle)

Rating: Explicit

——

Phineas stumbles across Phillip’s secret journal.

——

A big thank you to @askcarlyle for letting me steal— er, borrow a little journal entry! The journal entry is entirely their doing, but the rest is written by yours truly.

Phillip may want to do a better job of locking his stories up next time. Pretty sure I saw some clone pining in there. Smh.

...Have fun.

——

Phineas didn’t mean to snoop. He had meant to clean — a rarity that usually only occurred after Phillip nagged his ear off. Phillip would sigh and, with a roll of his eyes, claim that Phineas’s two little daughters, neither of them yet of double digit age, tidied up better than he did. And complained less about it, too.

But Phillip was away, dragged off to some gala by his parents in an attempt to “return him to the upper class.” He probably wouldn’t be back until the next day — he usually came back early from such events after bickering with his parents, but this particular gathering was hosted by a family across the state, and if Phillip wanted to leave early he would have to find a hotel to stay overnight. He wouldn’t be back until evening tomorrow, or late afternoon if he set off early enough.

So, because Phillip was away and no doubt having a miserable time, Phineas decided he would surprise him by cleaning the whole house — or, most of it. He could probably stand to skip a few rooms that Phillip didn’t go into. He knew that his “cleanliness standards” weren’t quite as on par with Phillip’s, but he hoped that Phillip would be so surprised and overjoyed by the simple fact that Phineas had cleaned that he would be willing to overlook a few forgotten specks of dust.

But when Phineas decided to clean the whole

(most of the)

(half of the)

house, he did not expect to find himself wrist-deep in some secret compartment in Phillip’s room.

All right, so the bedroom wasn’t exactly Phillip’s. Technically, it was a guest bedroom and the two slept together in Phineas’s master suite. But Phillip would duck into this second bedroom whenever Phineas’s girls spent the night and Phillip thought it best to sleep in separate beds. And, despite only being used on occasional weekends and holidays, the room had little traces of Phillip all over it — one of his combs on the dresser, a jacket and tie slung over the bed frame, and a pair of his socks in the corner, left forgotten as he packed for his overnight visit.

These little traces of untidiness made Phineas’s lip twitch into a smirk. He chuckled as he picked up the bundled pair of socks and tossed them in the hallway to join his own pile of dirty clothing. He would take them downstairs to be washed upon making his way to the ground floor.

He was on his hands and knees, attempting to sweep dust out from underneath the bed (how did Phillip do this?) when his thumb caught on something and he cursed, yanking his hand back. A small drop of blood was already rising against his skin, and he cursed again under his breath as he stuck his thumb in his mouth. Once satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he carefully poked his head under the bed once more to see what had nicked him.

A nail stuck up from an uneven floorboard and, curiosity getting the best of him, Phineas quickly realized the floorboard was loose. Lifting the wooden plank took no effort at all, and Phineas found himself wrist deep in a secret compartment he was unaware of in his own home.

The hole was small, but surprisingly deep, and Phineas’s fingers brushed against... something.

The man’s heart leapt in his throat until he realized that the questionable object was not furry. Not a rat, then. He let out a silent sigh of relief as he curled his fingers around the object and lifted it out from underneath the bed.

A journal.

The book was bound in brown leather, not yet dulled by the elements of time. The pages looked crisp and white, though many appeared creased and dog-eared, as if somebody had gone back and visited certain pages a number of times before.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Phineas flipped to a random page — one, he noted, that was dog-eared. It was dated three weeks ago and he immediately recognized the familiar cursive lettering, written by only Phillip’s neat hand.

Phineas began to read.

"I had the dream again last night. It's been months since the last time, but I hesitate to mention it to Phineas since he always looks vaguely unsettled whenever he hears the word "pirate.” The start is always the same -- I am in a ship's cabin, curled up on the bunk. Some interminable time later, hinges creak as an imposing figure fills the doorway, face hidden in dark shadows, the crimson late afternoon sunlight against his back. With the sort of expository omniscience that only works in dreams, I know that he is my captain and that what is to follow has played out many times before. That does not in way diminish the anticipation, however.

He sheds his claret velvet coat first, then the ornately embroidered black waistcoat is shrugged off broad shoulders to reveal the ivory silk shirt underneath. The fabric is thin and clings to his strongly muscled arms and chest, drawstrings already pulled loose so that the deep v reveals just a glimpse of rippling abdomen. His skin glints golden in the light of the setting sun, his head is crowned wih chestnut waves limned in halcyon glory.

Time speeds up again and he has reached the bed, his movements lithe and the glint in his amber eyes almost predatory. It's a gaze that leaves me unable to resist, rendered immobile by its warm, beckoning depths. He is on me in another moment and his lips taste of sea spray and rum. He reaches down...."

When he stopped reading, Phineas realized his face was red and hot. He swallowed, throat dry, Phillip’s face flashing in his mind.

Though the incident with the pirates had been a long while ago, the memory was still fresh in Phineas’s mind. He never would have guessed that the ship, the men that had beaten and shot at them, would have had this effect on Phillip. He tried to think back, try to recall any night that Phillip had acted out of sorts after waking or going to bed.

Phineas still sat on the ground and he shifted, realizing that his trousers had gotten uncomfortably tight. The journal still laid open in his lap and his gaze trailed down, scanning the lettering once more.

He is on me in another moment.

Slowly, his shock faded and a smirk curled at Phineas’s lip. He grunted, shifting his weight, hand falling into his lap. Circling a thumb over his rising erection, Phineas thought of Phillip once more and snickered.

Well, he thought, standing to go and properly relieve himself, if it was a show Phillip wanted, it was a show Phillip would get.

***

The sun was just beginning to set, painting the sky a sea of oranges and reds, when the sound of hoofbeats along the dirt road announced Phillip’s return the next evening. He was positively exhausted, physically and emotionally, after another unsuccessful attempt to get along with his parents, and he’d barely slept the night before, in an unfamiliar hotel room with no Phineas to curl into.

Vaguely, he registered that Phineas hadn’t come out to greet him, but his mind was too tired and foggy to care. He briefly debated leaving his luggage outside and dealing with it in the morning, but he shook his head, feeling ridiculous — it was only one bag.

Inside the mansion, the rooms were dark and empty. It looked like Phineas wasn’t home at all and at this Phillip became more attentive. Of course, he had no way of letting Phineas know the exact minute he’d be home, but... where was he?

Slightly dejected at having nobody to greet him coming home, Phillip sighed and took his singular suitcase upstairs. He threw it in the spare bedroom, deciding to unpack later, and went down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Phineas. Even without the ringmaster here, at least he’d be able to fall asleep in the comfort of their own sheets.

Time passed in a blur as Phillip stripped, removing his jacket and his belt and his shoes, the rest of his clothing following suit, and slipped into one of Phineas’s nightshirts. He relaxed at once with the familiarity of Phineas’s scent wrapping around him like an embrace, and sank into the large bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin.

He thought he was dreaming when the door creaked open, a figure stood at the doorway. Inwardly, Phillip’s heart leapt in his throat.

The dream. It was happening again.

But this time Phillip was... aware.

The light from a setting sun set his hair aglow with orangey-red. Phillip’s breath caught in his throat as the man — the captain — stepped closer. The outfit he wore was familiar, Phillip having seen it in his dreams a number of times before. Neither of them spoke as Phineas shed his velvet coat first, and then the waistcoat, revealing the fine ivory shirt that was as familiar as any of Phillip’s own clothing. Phillip had this dream more than enough times before and could recite each scene as it unfolded, like a bedtime prayer.

But, a voice whispered at the back of Phillip’s mind. Despite the near-perfect recreation of the dream from nights past, something was... off.

Beyond the sound of Phillip’s own heart thudding in his ears, he vaguely registered that he could feel no sway of the ship from the waves underneath his bed. He could not smell the saltiness of ocean water in air, and the timing was off. It was early or mid-evening, not late afternoon as before.

And then—

“Phillip,” the man before him whispered.

Alarm bells exploded in Phillip’s head.

The captain never spoke upon first entering his room. During or afterward, sure — but never before.

Phillip’s eyes rose to meet Phineas’s. He saw the playful gleam behind the seduction, saw the way the man’s lip curled into a smirk as Phillip looked at him just a little too long.

“Phineas!” he gasped, incredulous.

This was no dream.

Phillip crawled out from underneath the covers. Phineas’s nightshirt bunching up around his thighs as he sat on his knees and stared up at the... captain. Phineas didn’t bother to hide his pleasure as his eyes roamed over Phillip’s body, and he hummed in delight.

“Is that my nightshirt?” he chuckled.

“Phineas, how did you—“

The words died in Phillip’s throat as his eyes widened and his face drained of color. Horrified, his gaze flicked up to Phineas’s face.

“You didn’t!” he exclaimed.

“Hmmm?” Phineas tried to play innocent, but that damned smirk gave him away.

“Oh, no,” Phillip moaned.

Phineas chuckled again. “In my defense, I truly did not mean to stumble across your little... stories. I was cleaning, and—“

“You were cleaning?” Phillip gasped.

Phineas scowled. “Couldn’t you tell?”

Phillip was silent. His face still flamed red hot and he covered his eyes.

God. He couldn’t believe Phineas found his journal. That Phineas read it. He wondered just how much the man had seen...

A hand on his chest pushed him back on the bed and Phineas was on him, kissing his lips, kissing his neck. It took a moment for Phillip, stunned, to respond, but then he whimpered, overtaken by Phineas’s scent and hands and lips. Distantly, he smelt rum and sea foam — he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him or if Phineas had gone those extra steps to be “in character.”

Another gasp escaped Phillip’s lips as Phineas reached down, and suddenly the younger man became aware of just how vulnerable he was. He laid in their bed — though, at the moment it felt very much like a ship’s bunk — in nothing but one of Phineas’s own nightshirts that left much of his hot, gleaming skin exposed. Phineas was still mostly clothed, save for the velvet coat and waistcoat that laid discarded somewhere on the floor. Muscles rippled underneath the thin, ivory shirt Phineas still wore, and Phillip ached to trace every inch of the captain’s skin like a map of stars.

Phineas’s hand crept up the inside of Phillip’s bare thigh, toying along the soft skin. He snickered. “Look at you. Legs spread open like a whore.”

As Phineas’s hand closed around his hardening cock, Phillip moaned. “O-Only for you, Captain.”

The name slipped out on impulse as Phillip lost himself in the familiar fantasy. He froze and his gaze flickered to Phineas, who knelt over him, one hand still slipped underneath the nightshirt. His eyes widened for a moment, almost as surprised as Phillip, and then darkened. The hand on Phillip’s cock withdrew, slipping out from underneath the nightshirt. Phillip whimpered as Phineas stood and pulled him up. Now, Phineas stood looking down at Phillip, who sat on the edge of the bed, breathing deep, cock hard, head bowed.

Through his lowered eyelashes, Phillip watched as Phineas’s hands toyed with his belt. Excitement thrummed through Phillip’s body as the captain watched him with a smirk, no doubt knowing exactly the kind of thoughts running through Phillip’s head. Phillip watched, licking his lower lip as Phineas pulled the belt loose. Their eyes met as the belt came off and Phineas unbuttoned his trousers.

Lifting an eyebrow, the captain commanded, “On your knees, cabin boy.”

Phillip’s mouth fell open in a moan and a low, “Fuck.”

“Damned mouth of a sailor,” the captain muttered.

Phillip came close to protesting, but the captain’s sharp look, amber eyes dark with intent, had him scrambling to the floor

(like a harlot)

instead. He looked up at Phineas from his knees, expecting to see a trace of familiar warmth in whiskey-colored eyes, and found the very sea captain from his dreams staring down at him in his place.

Phineas radiated possession and power as his trousers lowered, his cock demanding attention. Phillip whimpered again, softly, nearly dizzy with desire and disbelief that his fantasy was real and actually being played out. He almost forgot that it was a result of Phineas’s snooping.

“Get to work,” the captain snapped.

Phillip had been in this position a countless amount of times before, but now, with sea captain instead of ringmaster waiting for him, he felt closed in and very, very warm. He was hyper aware of the heat radiating from himself and from the captain, and his mouth felt suddenly dry.

But one more look up at Phineas took Phillip’s breath away and, slowly, his body relaxed. He leaned forward, kissing his lips to the smooth head of the captain’s cock.

Above him, Phineas sighed and shifted. Captain persona momentarily forgotten.

Using one hand to grip the man’s hip, Phillip slowly took more in. The familiar thickness and musky scents were comforting and Phillip relaxed further, falling into the familiar routine. He sucked eagerly, but slowly, savoring Phineas’s taste.

“Faster,” came the captain’s sharp order.

Phillip hummed, the best he could do with Phineas’s cock in his mouth, and closed his eyes as he applied more suction, sucking faster and harder and deeper. He gripped the captain’s hips, fingernails leaving little crescent-shaped marks in their wake, and took Phineas for all he was worth, until the tickling of his gag reflex forced him to slowly back off.

“Fuck,” the man above him hissed.

Then he felt the hand in his hair, then both hands, and he made a strangled noise as they tugged at his hair, abusing the strands. Phillip’s eyes snapped open as the captain gave a particularly hard yank, and the resulting moan ripped from his throat with such force that he had to pull away from the captain’s cock, leaving it wet and red and gleaming.

“Phin—“ he coughed.

A rough yank of his hair and a light, sharp slap across his face had Phillip correcting himself as he gasped.

“C-Captain!”

The captain smirked. His eyes flicked over to the bed, and then to Phillip. The younger man’s nightshirt was rumpled, much too big for him, and drenched in sweat.

“Undress, sailor.”

Phillip’s limbs trembled as he got to his feet and pulled Phineas’s nightshirt up over his head. The captain’s eyes darkened as they roamed over him, and he squirmed under the intense gaze.

“Mmm. Wait here.”

Phillip watched with wide eyes as the captain pulled up his trousers, acting as if his cock didn’t literally ache to be released, and swiftly left the room. Phillip was left alone, undressed and aching and with a thudding heart. He sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to breathe evenly.

At first, when the captain came back with red ribbons in hand, Phillip didn’t gauge the meaning. He looked up into Phineas’s eyes.

The familiar smirk returned. “You mentioned ropes in your writing, but I thought ribbons might be smoother on that delicate skin of yours.”

Phillip gaped at him. His mind raced, realizing what the words meant.

The captain approached with slow, sturdy steps. He pushed Phillip back down — Phillip made no attempt to fight back — and made quick work of tying him up, bringing his wrists up over his head. Phillip moaned and whined and whimpered. He didn’t even have exposed skin to press up against. Phineas knew this, the entire reason why he’d stayed dressed, and it drove Phillip wild.

The captain knotted the ribbons as tightly as they could be tied without causing Phillip pain. Phillip, mortified and nude and horribly aroused, watched as the captain stood back and observed him, fully clothed once more.

“Cap— Cap’n, please—“

The captain snickered, and, once satisfied that Phillip could not reach him, finally began to undress. The belt came undone for a second time, and he shrugged out of the thin white shirt, finally baring a beautifully sculpted chest. He stepped out of his trousers and undergarments, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

Phillip’s lips formed verbal pleas before he could stop himself. The captain was pure power and muscle and solid art and Phillip craved every inch of him. He whimpered and pulled at his restraints.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please.”

Along with the ribbons, the captain brought in a small jar of oil which he now twisted open and dipped his fingers into. Phillip whimpered again and pulled at his restraints again, spreading his legs as far as they would go. His cock stood to attention and his body yearned to be touched, knowing the pleasure that just fingers alone would bring him.

“Such a little whore.” The captain shook his head. He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his smirk. “How many travels have you been on, boy? How many seamen have you spread open for?”

Phillip’s cock twitched and, having nothing to grab or hold onto, he balled his hands into fists. “Only you, my c-captain. Only you.”

He could not tear his eyes from the captain’s hand, glistening wet with oil. His body sang for it.

Seeming satisfied with Phillip’s answer, the captain’s lip finally curled into that familiar smirk. He came to the bed and knelt in front of Phillip’s spread legs, the younger’s hips rising in eager anticipation.

“Please,” he begged again, over and over, “Please.”

The first brush of the captain’s fingers, wet with oil, had Phillip whimpering and straining to press closer. The captain’s amber eyes bore into his as he took his time pressing his finger to Phillip’s hole, then pressing in. One, then two. Phillip gasped, begged for more.

“So needy,” the captain patronized, even he pushed in a third finger. But, Phillip didn’t miss the catch in his voice, the excitement. Phineas wanted this as much as Phillip did and the thought made Phillip feel smug, even as he greedily moaned.

Phineas’s long fingers were rough and calloused from years of hard labor on the railroad, and it didn’t take much to imagine the scarred hands of a rugged sea captain were the ones that fucked into him. Phillip clenched tight around those fingers as he closed his eyes, pleased to hear the resulting low moan from the captain.

Suddenly daring, Phillip opened his eyes and opened his mouth to gloat. But rough, soft lips pressed against his instead, and he sighed deep into the kiss. Lips warm and slightly chapped, the captain worked his tongue into Phillip’s eager mouth as his fingers worked Phillip’s equally eager body.

As they pulled back for air, Phillip sighed, “Phineas.”

“Captain,” Phineas growled. He thrust his fingers in particularly hard and Phillip gasped again, jerking upward.

“Captain,” Phillip obediently repeated, pressing his head into the pillow as he arched his neck. The captain groaned low in approval as he dipped his head, teeth grazing along Phillip’s neck. His teeth nicked as he bit down and Phillip moaned, loudly. He could feel the captain’s smirk against his skin.

Lips pressed to Phillip’s pulse point as the captain curled his fingers. Phillip cried out as fingertips lightly brushed against something inside him, heart rate jumping, and Phineas grinned against his pulse. In an action much too gentle for a pirate, Phineas kissed Phillip’s neck as he slowly pulled out his fingers.

Phillip whimpered and instinctively clenched around nothing. He looked up at Phineas with wide eyes, bright and nearly brimming with tears.

“Don’t give me that face,” the captain chided. He stood and, using the same hand that had been inside Phillip moments earlier, coated his own cock with oil. He jerked himself lazily, slowly, smirking as Phillip watched.

Phillip’s body reacted from both ends, saliva filling his mouth and hole twitching in anticipation. He licked his lips and pulled at his restraints, frustrated, a tear rolling down his cheek. His face flamed with color, though he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, arousal, or both.

He couldn’t remember ever crying in his dreams. Somehow, Phineas — his Phineas, his captain — drove him more wild than the man in his dreams ever could.

If he could reach out to the man, he would. He no longer cared how he looked, he no longer cared how much he begged. Squirming on the bed, he pleaded, “Please, Captain. Have me. Take me.”

He watched as the captain’s eyes widened, then darkened. Hand falling from his cock, the captain climbed onto the bed and crawled over him. Wrapping Phillip’s legs around his waist, he claimed Phillip’s lips in another kiss, rougher than the last, tugging at Phillip’s lower lip. He relished in the sounds Phillip made as he moaned into his mouth.

“Please, sir,” Phillip whispered in between a breath for air. He couldn’t wait anymore.

Phillip whimpered when the captain’s cock brushed against his ass, the tip teasing his hole. The captain pulled away from the kiss, breaking it for good, to grip his cock and slowly guide it into Phillip.

Phillip moaned, loud, louder, his heels digging into the captain’s backside, as the man entered him. Finally, finally. His fingers twitched, arms aching to wrap around Phineas, and his legs clung as tight as they could, guiding the captain as he drove into him.

In his captain persona, Phineas wasn’t as liberal with the oil as he would have been otherwise, and, though he hadn’t noticed before, Phillip could feel it. He moaned at the new burn, the new pull, the new stretch, just enough to recognize the difference in a lot of lube versus a little without physically hurting him. The feel of Phineas’s cock, smooth and curved and so deliciously his, had Phillip attempting to bear down on it and ride Phineas for all he was worth.

The captain’s pace was fast and wicked, each new caress of his cock hitting Phillip almost before he had a chance to react to the one previous. Phillip moaned, whined, called out to the man above him — every time his tongue slipped and called out Phineas instead of Captain, the captain delivered a light, but stinging slap to his cheek. It brought tears to Phillip’s eyes more than once — not from pain, but sheer arousal — and he moaned out his correction.

The bed rocked underneath the captain’s force, and the captain groaned, pressing his forehead to Phillip’s. Their kiss was sloppy and bruising, the captain biting Phillip’s lip again and swallowing his moan. All Phillip could do was moan, legs wound tight around the captain, eyes brimming with fresh tears that threatened to spill over.

The captain’s voice was rough in Phillip’s ear, telling Phillip how tight he was, how hot, how good. Every last nerve in Phillip’s body felt like it was on fire, and when the captain stopped the bruising pace, Phillip had to swallow a broken scream.

Phillip’s mouth was ready with protests as the captain, panting, moved up to untie Phillip’s ribbons. Phillip gasped, and then moaned as his wrists were finally freed, his hands immediately moving to dig into the captain’s back.

Grunting, the captain resumed his ministrations, maneuvering Phillip’s hips to fuck deeper into him, faster. Phillip had to concentrate on remembering to breathe, fingers more like claws as they scratched down the man’s back. His hands were everywhere at once, as if making up for lost time, painting Phineas’s back like a canvas.

When the captain’s hand lowered, taking hold of Phillip’s cock, Phillip screamed out. “Ph-Ph-Phineas!”

The captain did not correct him as he spilled all over their chests.

Gasping, almost struggling to force air into his lungs, Phillip’s head fell back against the bed frame. The captain paused for the briefest moment, allowing Phillip to properly come and suck in a mouthful of air, but quickly picked up his pace just as before. He was grunting now, head bowed low, eyes squeezed shut. Phillip knew he was close.

Moaning still as the captain fucked inside him, Phillip grabbed the captain’s hands and loosely twined their fingers together. He panted and moaned as the captain squeezed his hands in an almost perfect rhythm.

The captain’s hips beginning to stutter, a high moan broke from Phillip’s lips. He clenched tight around Phineas’s cock, held him tight with his legs, and watched in utter rapture as the man’s face contorted.

The captain’s moan was broken by a string of curses as he slammed into his orgasm. Panting, he squeezed Phillip’s hands and buried his face in Phillip’s neck, inhaling sweat and sex.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

As his hips stilled and he laid limp inside Phillip, Phillip kissed his sweaty brow. He looked up, hardened face of the captain immediately melting away into Phineas’s familiar loving gaze.

“Are you all right?” Phineas asked, voice husky. Shifting, he slowly pulled out of Phillip and rolled away, their chests a mess of Phillip’s come. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No,” Phillip breathed. It took a moment to collect himself, but then he swore, “That was incredible, Phineas... you are incredible.”

Phineas smiled — though it looked suspiciously like a smirk. “Welcome home.”

“God.” Somehow, Phillip found enough energy to press his hands over his eyes. “I can’t believe you—“

Phineas’s deep chuckle interrupted him, and he sighed as Phineas kissed his flushed cheek.

“You know,” Phineas mused, running a hand through Phillip’s terribly messy hair, “I still have quite a lot of material to go through...”

Phillip’s eyes widened and he shot up, meeting Phineas’s stupidly amused gaze. “You wouldn’t.”

“Are you complaining?” Phineas smirked.

Phillip groaned and flopped back against the pillows. He lifted his eyes as Phineas loomed over him.

“I didn’t hear a ‘yes,’” Phineas mumbled, before catching Phillip’s lips in a soft, languid kiss.

Phillip sighed as they broke apart. Eyelids suddenly heavy, he smiled up at Phineas.

“Whatever you want,” he promised, sleep coating his voice. “I just have one question...”

“Hmmm?”

Their eyes met.

“What, exactly, did you clean?”

——

Completely unbetaed, so if you made it this far you get a gold star

#barlyle #lemons ahoy #get it? ahoy? sea captains?#i’m hilarious #the greatest showman #greatest showman #tgs #pt barnum #phineas barnum #phineas taylor barnum #phillip carlyle #journal #journal fic #askcarlyle #askbarnum

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justlookfrightened · 7 years

Text

Time management

I wrote this to fill this anonymous prompt: If you still want Zimbits prompts, I’m an absolute sucker for any Bob and/or Alicia pov with them seeing how happy Jack has become with Bitty and the SMH team. Bonus if this is the first time they’ve met Bitty as Jack’s bf + roughhousing of any sort. Thank you so much! I love your writing soo much I’m subscribed to you on AO3 😄😄💚

It doesn’t quite hit all the marks – this is set before parents’ weekend of year 2, long before they are boyfriends – but I think it’s in the same spirit. I hope you like it!

And I’m always in the market for new Zimbits prompts!

Alicia stepped on the mat and raised her eyebrows at Bob.

There hadn’t been a mat last time she was here, and if there had been, it would have gotten lost in the detritus that had littered the front porch: battered bikes, broken furniture, maybe even a discarded keg that no one had returned for the deposit.

That hadn’t really bothered her; it was right in line with the frat house decor she remembered from her time at Samwell. But now the porch sported functional furniture (mismatched, but still) and showed evidence of recent sweeping. And it had a welcome mat.

Well, actually, the mat said “Welcome, y’all!” in a cheerful cursive script.

“This is new,” she said.

Bobby just grinned. “Didn’t Jack say Bittle – that kid from Georgia – moved in this year?” he said. “Either it’s his, or the boys are chirping him a little.”

“You know very well Bittle – Eric, isn’t it? – moved in,” Alicia said. “Jack practically mentions him more than he does Shitty, and I’ve never met him. That’s half the reason I decided to come with you.”

The other half, she didn’t say, was to see with her own eyes that Jack was still there, still doing as well as he said he was in their weekly phone calls. He had friends, he said, and a good therapist, and a life.

Bob pushed the door open while Alicia said, “Bob! We should ring the bell.”

“I’m not sure it even works,” Bob said. “It’s open. Let’s see if Jack is here.”

The hall and the living room were empty, but a light shone from the kitchen door, and as she stepped forward (and why was she walking so quietly?) Alicia heard voices from the kitchen, a light tenor that was raised in protest, and Jack’s deeper rumble.

Now she was tiptoeing in earnest, Bob creeping along behind her. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to make her presence known, just that she felt like it wouldn’t be a good time to interrupt.

“You give that back, Jack Zimmermann. It’s mine!” the other boy yelled.

She peered around the door to see a smaller blond reaching for the 10-pound bag of flour Jack held over his head with one hand.

“You told us not to give it to you, Bittle,” he said, meeting the boy’s fury with calm. Alicia thought there might even be a bit of a chuckle in his voice.

“But it’s my flour,” Bittle said, jumping and swiping at the bag, and falling woefully short. He probably wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, but he was adorable, Alicia thought. His wide brown eyes were fixed on Jack, set off by pink cheeks and slightly mussed hair. He was half a head shorter than Jack, and nowhere near as wide across the chest and shoulders, but his body had a compact sort of strength and grace.

“Yes, and you can have it as soon as you turn in that paper,” Jack said. “Remember? You asked Holster to put it on the top shelf, and you told all of us not to get it down until your paper was done.”

Bittle looked like he was going to make a run at Jack and try to tackle him, but Jack fended him off with his free arm.

“I didn’t ask anyone to get it down,” Bittle said. “I was getting it myself, until my giant of a captain snuck up on me and took it right out of my hands.”

“It wasn’t in your hands yet,” Jack said reasonably. “And I’m pretty sure you still need to work on your paper.”

“I did work on it,” Bittle said. “And my mother is going to be here tomorrow. And your parents are going to be here. I have pies to bake. You know your dad likes my pie.”

Alicia turned to give Bob a look. He hadn’t stopped talking about that pie for weeks.

“Wait,” Eric was continuing. “Does your mom even like pie? Or is she more of a cake person? Never mind. She has exquisite taste. Of course she appreciates pie. I just need to make some!” “They’re not supposed to be here until morning,” Jack said. “You can bake after you finish the paper.”

“I can finish the paper while I’m baking,” Eric said, circling behind Jack and trying to climb on a chair without Jack noticing. “I’ll have 45 minutes while the pies are in the oven.”

Jack turned and grabbed Bittle around the waist like he was a sack of flour himself and lowered him gently to the floor.

“That’s not enough time,” he said. “You said you needed to do well on this paper, and you said it’s due by 6 p.m.”

Bittle now had a spatula extended in front of him like a weapon.

“Give me my flour, please,” he said. “Or I’ll whack you with the spatula.”

“No,” Jack said. “Your education is important, Bittle. Somebody has to take it seriously.”

Bittle started in with the spatula, the flat blade thwacking off Jack’s ribs and shoulders, clearly not making any impression on Jack, who took it for a few moments before wresting the spatula away from Bittle. Bittle was starting to look near tears.

“Bittle,” he said. “I’ll tell you what. You go get your laptop and your notes. I’ll put the flour back on the top shelf. And I’ll sit with you while you finish writing.”

Jack paused to shift the flour to the other hand.

“Then I’ll proofread while you make the pies. You can make corrections and submit it while they bake. Look, I’ll even peel apples while you’re writing.”

Bittle subsided, gave Jack a speculative look, and sighed.

“What makes you think I’m making apple pie?” he asked.

“My dad likes it?” Jack tried.

“You mean you like it,” Bittle said. “But it is a fall classic, so yes, I’m making apple. Fine. You put the flour away and I’ll get my laptop.”

Then, entirely too quickly, he was stepping through the doorway into the hall. He gave a small yelp when he saw them.

“Who – Oh, Mr. Bad Bob – Jack!”

Jack had startled at Bittle’s cry, and was bobbling the flour bag between his hands. It landed in a puff of white as the bag broke, dumping most of the flour on the floor, with a layer of powder settling on the table and counters.

“Sorry, Bittle,” Jack said. “I’ll get –”

“You’d better stay and clean your up your mess,” Alicia said. “Your father and I will go buy more flour. Eric – you are Eric, right? – is there anything else you need from the grocery store?”

Bittle snapped his jaw shut.

“Um, no, unless you want something besides apple or pecan pie,” he finally said. “And may I say, Mrs. Zimmermann, I’m a big fan.”

“Well,” Alicia said. “I have a feeling I’m going to be big fan of yours, so we’ll be even.”

#zimbits #prompt fill #omgcheckplease #omg check please

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no-mere-mortals · 6 years

Note

132-140 ^^

132: Been rejected by a crush?I’ve never even told a crush that I liked them133: Broken a mirror?Nope134: What do I want for birthday?Uhhhhhhhh probably like tickets for a Theatre Show135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?0 and probably Jesus bc there is only one way I’d end up pregnant136: Was I named after anyone?My middle name is Ayn after Ayn Rand (but mine is pronounced like Ann)137: Do I like my handwriting?Yeah it’s small and cursive but also sometimes it’s near illegible lol138: What was my favourite toy as a child?Probably like a book of some sort I was that kid139: Favourite Tv Show?I don’t really watch a lot of TV but my whole family used to watch Mythbusters when it still aired.140: Where do I want to live when older?Honestly a part of me is really happy where I am right now141: Play any musical instrument?Guitar and voice142: One of my scars, how did I get it?I actually don’t have any scars I can think of?I LIED OK sOIn 8th grade for the play there was a dance part where we had to go across the stage in like a sidestep while facing out at the audience (not looking where we were going). I was in the back row and like the 2nd person in line. We were passing right in front of this wooden box people stood on and the director had just added a smaller wood block for them to use as a step getting off of the larger block (y’all know those black wood theatre box blocks right they’re classic) (I looked it up and they’re called rehearsal cubes the more you know *do do do do dooo*)(This is a rehearsal btw don’t worry I didn’t ruin the show but it WAS a dress rehearsal.) So I’m doing my thing, facing the audience like an obedient lil actress, TOTALLY forgetting there was a solid wood block directly in my path. Basically, my shin hits it hard and I go right over, and I’m pretty sure I hit my head at some point. My costume included tights, so it wasn’t until I got into the bathroom to stop what I thought was a small cut that I realized that the tights had been holding a tiny little bit of my shin on and the edge of the block had actually straight up carved a dent into my leg. To this day (literally 4 years later) I still have a little indent on my shin from that stupid block.It wasn’t even a good play smh not worth the literal actual blood sweat and tears

#bry #the squad™#story time #theatre #mineyoung-churyuu #answered

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rinnnyxr · 3 years

Text

I've dressed up as a unicorn before. I prefer pretty costumes to scary costumes. I prefer to put together costumes on my own rather than buy them. I'm subscribed to a lot of youtube channels. I can relate to a lot of the books I read. I paint my nails orange in the fall. I didn't use to like mustard yellow, but now I do. Brown is a color that looks good on me. I think for myself. My middle name is common. My first name is common or fairly common. I want to give my kids unique names. I want to give my kids common names. I make up my own names. I have a lot going on in my life right now. ...and sometimes it seems like it's more than I can handle. I've had an anxiety attack. I've had a real physical problem that the doctor dismissed as anxiety. I own epi pens. I carry my epi pen with me everywhere. I've had to use an epi pen before. I've been to the ER when having an allergic reaction before. I've been tested to see what I'm allergic to. I've done something against the rules and was afraid of getting caught. I don't believe that breaking the rules is always a bad thing. I know that sometimes breaking the rules is necessary. My favorite Disney princess is Belle. I decorate for holidays. I wish I had more money to spend on decorations. I live in a small apartment. My favorite party game is Truth or Dare. I haven't been to a party in a LONG time. My friends from high school and I don't talk much anymore. I haven't seen my first crush in years. I saw someone I used to have feelings for and didn't feel a thing. I enjoy arts and crafts shows. Shoe sizes make me mad sometimes. My full-length mirror has a colored rim. I buy calendars from the dollar store. I buy my own groceries. I've had my free will stolen from me. I've had a teacher bully me. My dresser is an antique. I have antique bedroom furniture. I don't have any tattoos. I enjoy watching vlogs. I'm part of a lot of groups on facebook. I consider myself a natural leader. I have fake plants. I own a succulent. The best type of frosting is chocolate. Sometimes I eat dessert for breakfast. I have a sweet tooth. Sometimes I crave cheese. Sometimes I crave chocolate. I take vitamins. I take medication. I know how to do a fishtail braid. I've worn a fishtail braid before. All of my needs aren't met. I'm a good listener. I'm a good friend.

You're always behind on everything. ....and you wish you could catch up. You don't know how to handle your life. You made a stupid mistake/decision four years ago. You eat popsicles regularly. You dream of having a white Christmas tree one day. Your nails are painted sparkly red. You've been discriminated against blatantly. You're more bohemian than girly. You have two favorite sweaters this year. ...and one is teal; one is coral. You like the colors teal and coral. On most days, you don't make your bed. You're cluttered and disorganized. Your mind skips too much from one thing to the next. You have too much energy sometimes. Sometimes you forget to take your medicine. ...or forget if you've taken it or not. You take vitamins. You use a sunlamp. You don't have a winter coat that fits you this year. You own a camera tripod. You are not happy with the social class you are in. You are lonely and want someone to talk to right now. You haven't been to church much at all this year. You miss the days when you were happy. There's someone you would be really angry at and jealous of if you thought about what he/she did to you. You love someone who wants nothing to do with you. It amazes you what some people are willing to share on the Internet. You've been accused of many things you haven't done. You are feeling down right now. You write in cursive more than in print. You have been told you have perfect handwriting. Sometimes, you wish you were less right-brained. You don't know how to handle your life. You don't know how to handle who you are. ...or your responsibilities. You worry too much about disappointing people. You care too much what mean-spirited people think of you. Your situation seems hopeless. You always forget to burn candles, even though you have them. You don't need to be rich, just financially stable enough to be happy. You want to talk to someone, but you know nobody cares about you. You like Christmas cards with glitter on them. You wish you had a car. You don't have any sisters. You wish you had a sister. You wish you had more money to spend on make-up. You've never rented a movie on your own. You've never had detention. You think yoga is boring. You've farted in a dance or yoga or exercise class. You've found out someone you looked up to was actually a terrible person. Stereotypes in real life are similar but different to those portrayed on TV You know someone rich and ugly, and you know someone poor and pretty. You like both unique baby names and popular baby names. You know what you want to name your kids. You are not happy with your life. You wish someone cared about you, but they don't. You've made some really bad decisions. ..that you wish you could take back. You have huge regrets. You've made huge mistakes. You haven't had parents to teach you what's right. ...because they taught you wrong, and u had to unlearn what they taught you You are wearing Christmas pajamas right now. You like long shirts better than crop tops. You love jeggings and think they're super comfy. You would never have guessed that jeggings would be so popular. Your stomach seems to always be hurting. You use "smh" a lot on social media. You probably spend too much time on social media. You want your life back. You aren't happy. Your neighbor is loud. You missed a doctor's appointment and need to re-schedule. Your life is too demanding. You're tired.

You used to be sheltered, but now you're not. You think it's cool to step out of your comfort zone and try new things. You own a lot more shirt than you do pants and shorts. You can think of a "Christian" who seems very fake, shallow, & superficial. You can think of a "Christian" who seems very materialistic. You think it's cool to be authentic & true to who you are. You can be graceful sometimes and socially awkward at other times. You've had a rumor spread about you that was totally false. You've held back because you didn't want to offend anyone. You're guilty of hiding who you are in order to try to please everyone else You've been abused. You know many people who are selfish, entitled, spoiled, stuck-up, etc. You'd commit suicide if u didn't have loving& supportive family & friends. You think for yourself. You've been rejected by the popular group. You've never been sheltered. You have acne, but foundation covers it up well. You've never used bronzer or highlighter. You don't have a smartphone and wish you did. You used to want to be a model when you were younger. You honestly think you look like a model. Your feet are an awkward size. Your dad is a jerk and you wish you never had to see him again. Everyone that was supposed to love you left you. You love your mom, but she isn't mentally stable. You wanted to get to know someone who has no interest in you. It takes you a long time to recover after a breakup (including friend ones)

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