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weasleypogues · 4 years

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sober (j.b.r)

master list.

so i wanted to make a cute little thang to get this account really up and running so i hope u guys enjoy :) xx

you and your friends decided that having a kegger at the boneyard was the only way that you wanted to kick start your summer. it only seemed appropriate because it was a sunny day with little to no breeze and school had just let out for the summer.

you went with kiara to pick up red solo cups while the guys went on their own path to pick up two kegs. today was a great day on the boat with your friends. you got breakfast, lunch, and dinner with them. you swam in the waves and surfed with them later on.

for some reason though, you said to yourself that you weren’t in the mood to drink later on. you weren’t in an upset mood or anything and a part of you felt guilty that you weren’t going take part in the drinking. you just wanted to live in the moment with your friends and didn’t feel like forgetting parts of the night. fortunately, you didn’t need to be under the influence to hang out and have fun with your friends, unlike a lot of the kooks.

after making a stop at kiara’s house so she could change, you made one last stop at your own to get on your cutest but most laid back party clothes. you had no one to impress. well...you kinda did. it’s confusing. you didn’t feel the need to dress up for your crush, john b. you figured if he didn’t like you in a regular pair of shorts and a t-shirt than maybe the crush wasn’t worth it. but that didn’t mean you didn’t pick out your cutest t-shirt and shortest shorts for the party. you still had to spice it up.

after applying a small layer of mascara and highlighter, you packed a bag to sleep over john b’s house later and headed towards the boneyard with kiara.

“ready to get completely shitfaced, ladies?” jj exclaimed raising his arms in greeting as you and kiara walked towards them near the shoreline. surprisingly, kiara decided tonight she would go a little harder than usual now that you were going to be sober.

“shitfaced? no, feel-good-buzzed-tipsy? hell yeah.” kiara giggled as she opened the bag of red solo cups stacked on top of each other. you took a seat on the large fallen branches next to john b.

“want me to get you a drink?” pope asked, facing you. you smiled at him and simply shook your head.

“not really feeling getting drunk. just feel like chilling, sitting back, and observing.” you answered as you fiddled with your bracelets. he gave you a quick smile and nod and proceeded to walk over to jj who was already done with one cup.

it wasn’t long until tourons and kooks joined the party after your usual pogues inhabited the party earlier. it was kinda funny how keggers worked. john b explained them as three-layer burritos. even though everyone has their own opposite lifestyles and such, there’s nothing like a kegger to gather underage kids to drink alcohol on a beach.

“need any help?” you asked as you walked up to where john b was working the keg. he looked over to you for a quick second to put a face to the voice and smiled as he went back to work.

“not necessarily, but i could use some company.” he anwsered with a smile on his face. you smiled slightly to yourself as you just observed him while he was focused on filling up a cup for some random kooks. you watched the way his sunburnt skin looked perfectly tan, how his slight curls moved with the summer evening breeze, how even though pogues and kooks did not get along whatsoever he still gave each kook a slight smile even though from time to time he would mess with them when handing them a cup. he was overall a nice guy. that’s why you liked him. although he could easily hurt a fly, he wouldn’t think even think about doing it.

there would be little breaks he would get in between newcomers where you guys would hold a small conversation but usually got interuppted quickly. after a couple more tourons walked up to the party in their new outer banks apparel they got from a local shop on their vacation, john b was pretty free for the rest of the night.

“pretty good turn out tonight if you ask me.” you said as you took an empty spot on a fallen tree in front of the fire. john b didn’t hesitate to follow you and take the empty seat next to yours.

“i would say so. as long as no bad shit happens, we’re good.” he responded with a slight chuckle. you rolled your eyes and let out a laugh so quick, you knew something was bound to happen. whether it was your own friends or some tourons or kooks, there was never a simple and peaceful kegger in the history of boneyard parties.

“look’s like we’re the only ones sober at this party.” john b stated as he gave you a slight nudge to make you look over at him. he had that gorgeous smile that gave you butterflies and you rolled your eyes playfully in response. “is there a reason you didn’t drink tonight?”

you shurgged while giving a content smile. “wasn’t really feeling the whole alcohol taste tonight but as long as i’m here, i’m happy.” you answered putting your elbows on your knees to get somewhat closer to the firepit. he nodded slowly and looked down and there was a few moments of silence between you two.

it seemed like an eternity till he lifted his head up. even though people were surrounding you every which way, it felt so quiet when he didn’t respond at all.

“can i tell you something?” john b asked, a little louder than both of you expected. this made you slightly jump and you looked at him with soft eyes.

“anything.” you replied as you subtly cracked your fingers, a habit you did when you were nervous. he stood up and ran his fingers through his hair with his left hand while his right hand was out stretched towards you. you took his hand without heistation as he led you a little distant from the rest of the party.

“this could easily be too straight up. this could so easily ruin our friendship. or the group. or tonight overall but i seriously need to get this off my chest for the sake of myself and of jj and pope who will not stop nagging me to tell you.” john b rambled on, his face turning slightly red from either embarassment or because he was loosing breath from his run on sentence. you couldn’t tell, mainly because you felt your own face get too hot because you were scared of what he was going to say.

“you know how there’s the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule, right? of course you do, that was a stupid question. anyways, look (y/n) i really like you. like a-fucking-lot. i liked staring at the back of your head in history class to keep me distracted. i like when you laugh at jj and pope after kiara either playfully tells them off or makes fun of them. although, playfully is a debatable word with that last one though. i like when you come surfing with us or even just sit with us at the wreck even though you ate lunch earlier but just wanted to be with us. i like your laugh, your eyes, your finger cracking habit. the list could go on. so i get it if you don’t like me back or maybe you do and you just don’t wanna break the rules. and maybe it was selfish that i’m saying all this and throwing it on your for the sake of my own sanity but i just really had to let you know because jj and pope put this idea in my head that you had feelings back for me and i just need to know.”

you started back at him, your eyes slightly wide at his entire tangent. you were at a loss for words. you felt a tingling sensation throughout your entire body but no words were coming to mind except for simple ones.

“yes.” you answered, and it seemed like you were out of breath. john b’s face faltered slightly.

“yes?” he inquired, his eyebrows furrowed. finally your knowledge of the english language came back to you and the biggest smile grew on your face.

“i like you. a lot. you’re the sweetest, funniest, most laid back guy that i’ve ever met and if i knew all of this i would so have made a move sooner you have no idea.” you responded and immediately cupped his face with your hands and pulled him in so passionately that the noise from the kegger drowned out gradually.

you could feel john b ease at your touch and swiftly grabbed your waist, somehow pulling your already close bodies, even closer. after what felt like way too long but not long enough, you pulled away and found your hands at the nape of his neck, playing with his hair.

“i feel like the luckiest guy in the outer banks right now.” john b responded, oh ever so cheesily. your hands traveled down his arms and you took his left hand in your right as you guided him back to the party. maybe your drunk friends would notice, maybe not.

maybe you were away from the party longer than you thought because when you came back you were met with only a couple of party goers, jj, kiara, and pope as they passed around a joint.

“woah woah woah, did we miss something?” jj basically coughed out after hitting the joint. you and john b both laughed in response.

“we’ll clear things up tomorrow morning when everyone is sober and hungover, don’t worry.” you stated, feeling john b place a kiss at the top of your head.

#outer banks #outer banks writing #outer banks imagines #john b imagines #john b #john b routledge #john b x reader #kiara carrera #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #pope heyward imagines #pope heryward #obx x reader #chase stokes #obx writing #obx writings #obx imagines #obx

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pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles · 5 years

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Like A River (Girls Talk Boys part 17)

Shut your mouth, baby stand and deliver Holy hands, oh they make me a sinner Like a river, like a river Shut your mouth and run me like a river

Choke this love till the veins start to shiver One last breath till the tears start to wither Like a river, like a river Shut your mouth and run me like a river

(A/N this is a longer chapter than usual. I seriously considered splitting it into two but I couldn’t do it)

18+ label on this one for sexual language and situations

Previous Chapter

Chapter One

The pounding on his front door jolted Calum awake. Why was he on his couch?

“I'M COMING” he yelled and the knocking ceased.

He blinked still confused until it all came back in a rush.

The Halloween party, Cher, Camille, the alarm, finding Duke asleep next to a purse.

Calum got up and headed towards the door.

Michael's text, Ameena's anger then the tears, Camille's hurt, going back to the party, finding out Camille had ended up in bed with -

He opened his front door. Ashton was waiting. “Last night was shit, and tonight is gonna be shit if we don't clear the air” Ashton hugged him.

“Calum?” A voice called out from upstairs.

Ashton looked at him incredulous “Ameena's still here?”

Calum nodded “she cried herself to sleep on the couch.”

“Of course she did” Ashton snapped.

“Calum who the fuck was at the door? Oh Ashton it's just you. Got your chubby little girlfriend with you?” Ameena let out a sharp bitter laugh as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Just so you know I don't want you in my house ever again. Last night was uncalled for, you embarrassed and insulted my friends.” Ashton glared at her while Ameena smirked.

“Whatever works right?” She asked

“Not this time Ameena” Calum spoke up, his voice weary and harsh from a restless night and too many cigarettes. “I can't do this anymore. Last night was just pointless. It didn't accomplish anything except embarrass me and make me realize how tired of all of this I really am. I have tried to be nice about this because I really loved you once. Right now I just need you to get anything that's yours out of my condo, give me back your key and leave.” Ameena and Ashton both stood there stunned and speechless. “You have 15 minutes I suggest you hurry” Calum snapped, cooly turning his back to Ameena as he headed into the kitchen to make some coffee.

Ameena stormed back up to the bedroom and slammed the door. Calum could hear her cursing and banging of drawers. Duke came barreling down the stairs to hide under the couch. Calum poured a cup of coffee with a splash of milk . He nodded towards the machine but Ashton shook his head.

“Look Cal about last night” Ashton started.

“Not right now” Calum shook his head. “Wait until she leaves.”

Ashton shot him a look “you ok man?”

“I will be” Calum sighed looking at his watch. Grabbing his coffee mug he walked back into the living room. They could still hear Ameena upstairs. Calum walked over to the closet grabbed two jackets one grey leather, one red suede. Reaching down he grabbed a small pair of rain boots and a large duffel bag. He laid the jackets on the bottom and put the boots in a plastic bag on top. He went into the downstairs bathroom and snagged her emergency makeup bag.

As Ameena was coming down the stairs with two full travel bags. Calum was gathering up framed photos, things she'd bought him, and anything in sight he knew belonged to her and putting it in the bag.

“You're really fucking serious” Ameena started to sniffle.

“You can cry if you want but just go. We're going out for breakfast. We'll follow you out so I can make sure you give back your parking pass.” Calum's voice was flat and emotionless.

Ameena let a tear fall but when Calum met her eyes with no reaction she switched tactics

“Ashton must be disappointed you're going through with this. Now he has to give up your whore.” Ameena's voice was pure venom.

“Don't call her that” Ashton spoke up pushing himself off the wall.

“Of course you'd come to her defense. I saw the pics on Lucy's IG you two were all over each other last night” Ameena lashed out only finding the tiniest hint of satisfaction watching Calum's jaw twitch slightly.

“Your key” Calum held his hand out. Ameena pulled it off her key ring and threw it against the wall. Calum calmly took her key ring out of her hand removed the actual key, handed her the bag he'd packed and pointed towards the door.They watched as Ameena walked to her car and peeled away. They caught up to her at the security gate. Ameena pulled the parking sticker off her window and handed it to the attendant. She flipped Calum and Ashton off behind her and sped away.

Calum and Ashton sat down across from each other in the booth. Both ordered near identical breakfasts of eggs, bacon, toast and hash browns. Ashton added on a side of pancakes while Calum got a fruit cup.

Waiting for their food Ashton took his phone out and handed it to Cal. He already had Lucy's Instagram page up and Calum scrolled through the pictures. Sure enough there were Ashton and Camille wrapped around each other. Camille hanging on his arm while they played beer pong. Ashton behind Camille with his arms wrapped around her waist while they danced. Then a video of the pass the ice cube game with Camille in between Harry and Ashton. Calum handed his phone back to him.

“So what happened?” Calum asked him.

“After you left Camille was trying to hold it together but then she started to cry.” Ashton's voice wavered slightly. “I chose to stay by her the whole time and try and salvage her night. Yeah we got flirty and yeah we had a cheeky little kiss and a few cuddles. The whole time she's looking around for you.”

Calum closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. “Don't you dare feel bad. Ameena went psycho and I'm so proud of the way you handled her today.” Ashton told him placing a hand on Cal's shoulder. He pulled back when the server brought their food.

“Cal look at me. What is it? Talk to me please.” Ashton was worried about his best friend.

“This has been so hard. The fighting with Ameena, this shit with Camille fucking hell maybe I should walk away from both of them and just start over.” Calum shrugged and looked away.

“Are you fucking serious? Is that really what you want?” Ashton couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“I don't know ok I don't fucking know ok” Calum's voice went up and people began to look their way.

“Cal it's ok I'm here for you. We'll get you through this.” Now Ashton was really worried.

“I'm just exhausted. I don't know anything anymore.” Calum looked away and began eating. Ashton followed his lead shoveling food into his mouth while keeping an eye on Calum.

“So why did Camille sleep in your bed?” Calum asked.

“Camille was absolutely shitfaced and I was afraid she would turn into a crying mess. I don't know if you heard everything Ameena said to her but it had Camille rattled. Cody split and Cher left to shag Spongebob. I was literally the only guy who didn't bring a date left to see to her. I gave her a pair of pajamas and we slept in the same bed. Nothing happened, all we did was talk about you.” Ashton told him.

“Do you like her?” Another question from Calum.

“Listen to me” Ashton leaned in and looked Calum in the eye. “I adore Camille, but not in the way you do and you of all people know I'm interested in someone else. Camille and I are very good friends who bonded over wanting something we couldn't have. Why are you so worried about it anyways? You know I would never go behind your back.”

“That's the craziest thing about all of this. You know I've never been the jealous or possessive type. I mean that fight I got into with Brandon was because he put hands on Ameena and wouldn't stop. With Camille it's this violent rush of emotion. The second day she was here I got jealous over her and my brain has been fucked ever since.” Calum rubbed his eyes.

“Go home get some rest. Tonight we're all going out to Harry's club. You and Camille can kiss and make up. We can all relax and have a good night.” Ashton smiled at him picking up the check.

Calum kicked off his shoes and headed upstairs to shower. He let the water pour over his skin and soothe his nerves when out of nowhere all the pent up stress and emotion he'd bottled up came crashing down on him in waves. Unable to hold back Calum broke down and cried.

First came sadness tinged with regret. Even though it all went wrong Ameena had been his first love and they'd had some wonderful times together. His mother would call tomorrow after word got back to her from one of her best friends aka Ameena's mom. He felt guilty about the disruption it would cause in other people's lives. He gave himself up to the tears, no longer trying to hold them back. There was the relief being done with a relationship that had long since turned toxic. Sobs racked his shoulders as the frustration and anger hit him. He'd hurt everyone by not having the strength to end it with Ameena months ago or at the very least in Europe. He was furious Ameena had lashed out at Camille and hurt her and panicked that Camille might not think he was worth the trouble after being publicly insulted twice.

Camille. Camille. Camille. Fucking hell. He sniffled regaining control again. He washed his face and hair, gave himself a quick tug and finished up his shower routine. He padded to his room naked using the towel to dry his hair. His room was a mess. Ameena had dumped clothes everywhere. Nothing was broken but she'd taken a few things that weren't hers.

The cologne she'd bought him last Christmas. His green hoodie was swiped and she took the damn candle. For some reason that cracked him up. There he was fully nude, laughing his ass off in the middle of his wrecked bedroom. Duke who'd been sleeping on his bed was staring at Calum as if he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. He realized he needed to get some sleep if he were going out tonight. It was 1pm there was plenty of time. He crawled into bed and Duke snuggled in for a nap. He could leave the mess for tomorrow. Calum wondered if Camille would even want to be around him never mind actually have sex with him now.

It was Retro Rewind at The Chelsea which meant the music was all 80's, 90's and early 2000's. Britney Spears’ Toxic was playing as Camille and Cher showed up with Harry and his date Kaye along with Lucy and Tom.

Harry was rocking one of his trademark suits. This one was purple paisley over a white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Kaye coordinated in a cute lilac mini dress. Tom went with a more casual look burgundy button up and black jeans. Lucy was a stunner in a bright blue swinging halter dress alongside him.

Cher wore black denim shorts a white tank top and a blue and green tie dye duster with black combat boots. Her hair was up in two twisty buns like mouse ears.

Camille had a root touch up that morning but they hadn't put the color back in so instead of pink hair it was platinum blonde worn loose and wavy. She was wearing a red leather mini skirt and a black corset top that gave her cleavage up to her chin. Black knee high lace up boots and bright red lipstick completed the look.

Camille had never been in the VIP lounge before. The Chelsea went all out. Overlooking the club there was a separate bar just for them, bottle service, plush couches, a dancing pole in case anyone felt daring enough and even a private bathroom so one didn't have to mingle with the peasants just to pee. Even a separate entrance/exit for celebrity guests.

“If you'd told me 4 months ago we'd end up in the VIP of The Chelsea as personal guests of Harry Styles I would've slapped you and called you a liar.” Cher leaned into Camille handing her a margarita.

“I know right?” Camille laughed and shook her head. They heard a commotion behind them. Camille whipped her head around but it was just Lucy's brother and a couple Tom's friends.

“Waiting for someone?” Cher raised her eyebrows.

“Shut up” Camille poked her.Just then as if on cue the music changed and the boys appeared.

What a man, what a man, what a man,

What a mighty good man

Gotta say it again now

What a man, what a man, what a man

Camille smacked Cher in the arm as both of them tried not to be too obvious. Holy fucking hell they all looked incredibly sexy.

Michael was in his usual look. Black skinnies, high necked black and white shirt, black coat and boots, rings and glasses.

Luke was killing it with his red shirt showing off plenty of his chest, matching nails, skin tight black trousers and silver glitter boots. Both dates dressed to match with Crystal in black and silver shorts and a crop top and Summer in a black catsuit trimmed in bright red.

Ashton was cheeky in a pink silk short sleeved top and black pants and boots. His gold necklaces glinted against his exposed skin.

Camille’s eyes landed on Calum and she couldn't breathe. His hair was curly and in his eyes which in itself was enough to make her melt. He had on the black long sleeve button up with white pinstripes, black skinny jeans that made his ass look extra cute and boots. Camille licked her lips and tried to calm her racing pulse. Blushing furiously she had to look away certain the entire room could read her thoughts.

Lucy came over to grab them so they could dance and Camille snapped out of her trance. A much as she wanted Calum after last night he had to make a move.

Calum and Ashton took a shot and then grabbed a beer before looking around the room. Lucy and Tom had their usual crew. Cher looked adorable with her hair up. Calum didn't know the curvy blonde girl Cher was talking to as he glanced away searching for Camille before it clicked in his brain.

His throat went dry and he couldn't swallow. Camille usually dressed modestly rarely trying for overly sexy, so to see her dressed so blatantly provocative caught him by surprise. Calum wasn't the only one appreciating her new look as what appeared to be Lucy's brother hovered nearby.

Calum scowled at him and sat down on one of the couches to gather up the courage liquid or otherwise to approach Camille. Camille saw Calum frown at her and decided against trying to talk to him if he was in a bad mood. Besides Drew, Lucy's brother, was pleasant enough for the time being. Although he was drinking at an alarming rate and Camille sensed he wasn't a pretty drunk. For right now she was gonna drink and dance with Tom and Lucy.

Cher didn't hesitate to make her way over to the guys. As the couples had separated from Ashton and Cal, Cher headed that way.

“What's up Cool Guy Cal and Mr Bravo” Cher giggled.

“Hey pretty lady why don't you sit next to me” Ashton was quick with a joke. Cher settled in between them for a chat and a drink.

Calum chugged his beer and ordered another. Cher raised her eyebrows. “A little liquid courage never hurt” he told her sheepishly.

“For fucks sake Calum just go talk to her” Cher was exasperated.

“She looks busy” Calum pouted watching Camille dance with Dan? Dave? Drew? Drew, that's it. He looked like a fucking Drew.

Camille was absolutely sick of Drew and had finally screwed up her courage to go talk to Calum bad mood or not. She leaned in to whisper in Lucy's ear telling her she'd be back when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist. She squirmed to get away but Drew wasn't letting go.

“C'mon Camille let's dance” he slurred in her ear thrusting against her.

“Drew knock it off you're drunk” Lucy smacked her brother's arm to no avail.

Camille tried to get away but he was locked on to her. Until he wasn't. Suddenly she was free and Drew was on the floor. She turned around confused to find Calum enraged and standing over Drew.

“That's my girl. If you touch her again it'll be the last thing your ever do.” Calum's voice was tight and controlled and no one doubted he meant what he said.

Camille's jaw dropped as Calum stalked past her into the bathroom trailed by Ashton and Lucy's friend.Seconds later Camille pushed into the bathroom.Calum was leaned up against the wall with Ashton on one side and Lucy's friend Jessica hovering trying to touch him but he shrugged her off.

“Can you give us some privacy” Camille asked.Ashton moved towards the door Jessica continued to hover.

“Get out” Camille snapped at her and she scurried off behind Ashton.

“What the shit Hood?” Camille was standing inches from him. “Last night you leave with your girlfriend and never come back and now you wanna act like I belong to you. You can't have it both ways.”

“I packed Ameena's shit this morning. Took her key and her parking pass. Its over and done. I don't want it both ways. I only want to have you.” Calum's face was just inches from Camille's.

“So take me” Camille raised up on her toes and snaked her hand to the back of his neck pulling him in for a kiss.Calum's hands dug into her waist as his mouth met hers. Camille's melted under the soft yet demanding feel of Calum's lips against hers. His tongue finding its way to battle with hers as they clung to each other battling for dominance while submitting to desire all at once.Camille reached down to rub his hard cock through his pants while passionately kissing him with so much hunger that Calum falls back against the bathroom stall door.

He pulls back “Are you sure this is what you want? You really want to do this here in a bathroom?” Calum searches her face for any sign of hesitation.

Camille stares back at him. “Every time I hesitate something gets in my way. I don't care where it happens. I just want you.”

Calum smirked before yanking her hair back and attacking her neck. Kissing, biting and licking his way across her throat sending shivers down her spine. His hand slid into her shirt twisting her nipple between his fingers causing Camille to cry out. Camille grabbed his cheeks kissing him fiercely as her hands clawed at his belt.

“You don't have to” Calum told her.

“Oh but I want to” Camille gave him a wicked grin causing his heartbeat to quicken before she ducked onto her knees and her mouth was on his cock. Swirling her tongue around the tip while gazing up at him Camille savored the moment before taking his length down her throat. Calum grunted and tried to grab her hair but she swatted his hands away. Camille set her own pace using her hands to pump and twist while she sucked him off. She used her fingers and tongue in ways Calum hadn't experienced before making it impossible for him to speak. The strained moans coming from his throat sent shivers to her core. “Oh shit” Calum threw his head back against the stall his fingers unable to resist tangling in her hair as Camille made him cum down her throat. Calum's knees went weak and he looked up at Camille who stood up and wiped her mouth with a very satisfied smirk.

“You're in so much trouble now” Calum told her grabbing her wrist. He used one hand to hold her wrists behind her back while the other slid up her thigh and under her skirt. Camille gasped as she felt him move her panties to the side and one of his long fingers slide into her slowly. She hissed as he moved excruciatingly slow pulling out then adding another finger and sliding back in. “Please don't tease” Camille whimpered.

“As you wish” Calum shot her a devilish look before releasing her wrists and pushing her skirt up her hips. Continuing to pump his fingers inside her Calum's lips found her clit wrapping around it and sucking gently.“Fuck Calum” Camille tried and failed to be quiet.Calum had her on the tip of his tongue and between the way she tasted and the sounds she was making he could feel his dick getting hard again. He was relentless his mouth and his fingers driving her to orgasm as she quivered against his face her fingers desperately tangled in his dark curls. Camille felt herself shatter against him. Her legs quaking and turning to jelly she thought she might collapse.

Instead she found herself wrapped in Calum's strong arms as he picked her up and carried her over to sit on the edge of the sink. He held her face in his hands. “You're sure you want this” Calum asked.

Camille smiled blissfully never taking her eyes from his she took his hand and raised it to her mouth. She kissed the palm of his hand lightly which brought a soft smile to Calum's now swollen lips. Then while maintaining eye contact placed his fingers that had been inside her to lips and began to suck her own juices off of them. “Oh fuck me” Calum swore reaching for his wallet as Camille giggled.

“You won't be laughing in a second darling” Calum muttered putting on the condom. His mouth met hers again as he found her entrance wet and waiting for him. Snapping his hips he buried himself fully inside her making her hiss and throw her head back.

“Does that hurt” he asked.

“Yes but don't you dare stop” Camille panted in his ear.

Calum tried to set an easy pace as he took his time enjoying the feel of her around him.Camille squirmed impatiently making him grin.Until she clenched around him and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Fuck me hard Calum. Do it.” She whispered before kissing under his jaw right on the sensitive spot she'd found. Raking her teeth along it she knew she was leaving marks. Calum responded immediately. He leaned her back partly against the mirror. Grabbing her hip with one hand and her throat with the other he set a punishing rhythm. Camille couldn't help but squeeze around him every time he'd slam into her g spot causing them both to moan. Camille reached one hand down between her legs to rub circles on her clit the other caressing her own breasts. He'd never seen anything hotter. Calum could feel his orgasm building as he fucked Camille into oblivion.

“Are you close” he asked her.Camille just whimpered and nodded sending Calum into a frenzy.He watched her climax hit her. Her eyes screwed shut and his name tumbled from her lips again and again. Right as she hit her high her hips began to buck. Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and he could feel her tremble around him. “Oh God what the fuck” it was too much and Calum's orgasm hit him harder and sooner than he expected. “Camille” he cried out her name as both a curse and a prayer.

Next Chapter All On My Mind

@biba3434 @vfdsstuff @babygirlcashton @toofadedtofight

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adambstingus · 6 years

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5 Things You Learn Professionally Squatting In AWarehouse

When you hear someone talk about “squatters,” you probably think of hobos/borderline hobos stinking up a crumbling old house or abandoned grocery store in the middle of some broken chunk of urban sprawl. Usually their ambitions don’t extend beyond “keep dry” and “have a nice place to do heroin.” But all over the world you’ll find a different kind of squatter community, involving hundreds of people — often artists — who live their lives outside the direct control of the law. Some of these communities have existed right in the middle of major cities for decades.

Why do they do it? How can they get away with it? We went and visited a couple to find out …

#5. You’ve Got To Fight For Your Right To Squat

Let’s say you and a bunch of friends want to take over a patch of land that isn’t yours and set up your own little community. How would you go about keeping the cops from just arresting everyone and sending in the bulldozers? Set up barricades? Armed guards?

Actually, the answer is art. Allow us to explain.

Just don’t ask us to explain the art.

Squatter communities usually involve a bunch of weirdos who spend most of their time making art living rent-free outside the confines of society’s laws. There’s one in Copenhagen, Denmark, that’s been there for almost 45 years, containing about a thousand squatters/artists. There are independent squatter communities in the United States, too — we visited Slab City, California, last year — but they tend to exist well off the beaten path. That’s because, well, what they’re doing is usually illegal as hell. “Squatting” by definition means they didn’t pay for the land they’re sitting on, and in almost every case lots of people are unhappy about it.

The two anarchist-ish squatter compounds we visited were both in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. The first, Metelkova, has been around for more than 20 years and hosts a shitload of art from renowned painters, sculptors, etc., from around the world:

This used to be a Yugoslavian army guard tower.

And this used to be a literal nightmare.

The second, Social Center Rog, also contains a shitload of art and — bonus! — a giant skate park.

No one built it. It just sort of appeared.

Why doesn’t the government just come and tear it down? They totally tried.

Metelkova was built over the rotten corpse of an old Yugoslavian military base. As the military pulled out, the area was promised to local artists as a work space by the government. But the government almost immediately decided “fuck that” in lieu of bulldozing the whole thing and selling the land to developers. One of our sources for the article, Natasha, was there when the demolition started. “They brought all these machines, wrecking balls as well … but by coincidence, someone passed by, saw what was happening, and informed all the other members. People gathered and decided to attack to protect the buildings.”

This “attack” took the form of dozens of artists rushing the demolition site and setting up in buildings as they were being torn down. The basic logic was, the government probably won’t kill us all for this land. The squatters erected barricades to keep the government out (which obviously wouldn’t hold them off for long) and started covering everything with art. “Artists just gathered and started gluing ceramic tiles on the wall. The purpose was to protect the building with art … then maybe they won’t demolish it.”

“After all, you never see them bulldoze a spraypainted building, right? Right?!”

OK, so that sounds like about the hippie-dippiest bullshit imaginable. “If we cover the walls with enough art we can melt the government’s hard hearts!” It’s the kind of plan that could have been dreamed up only by people too high to remember that the government has access to things like tear gas and truncheons.

But it worked.

Like the old saying goes: “The Illuminati-baby humping a soccer ball sculpture is mightier than the sword.”

Next, local artists started donating paintings and sculptures, and the squatters began hosting as many concerts and art shows as possible. “In two months, like 200 different events happened.” Natasha’s job during all this was to take clippings from newspaper articles about the squat and different events it held. Several Slovenian intellectuals teamed up with an American architect named Kevin Kaufman and produced the Metelkova Development Plan, a detailed blueprint for the future expansion of the squat.

All of this was meant to establish the squat as a legitimate piece of cultural heritage, rather than just a place where young hippie kids got fucked up. And it worked: The government relented, declared Metelkova a cultural heritage site, and pulled back the wrecking balls and the cops.

Having a spider-tank on their side didn’t hurt.

After more than a decade in operation, Metelkova inspired another squat — Social Center Rog — which began when a bunch of artists started occupying an abandoned communist bike factory. But the Rog had to fight for its existence against a different foe: junkies.

#4. Squatting Means Kicking Out Previous Squatters

“Wait,” you’re probably thinking, “aren’t all of these people junkies?” Shockingly, no. On our second night in the city we attended a “wild” party thrown by the Rog as a fundraiser. The publicly available drugs were beer and wine … that was about it. Nobody got shitfaced, nobody started fights, and, on the whole, it was considerably tamer than Cracked’s annual company Christmas party.

They only had one beer in that fridge, and it belonged to Ganesha.

So folks at the Rog aren’t teetotalers, but it’s not a drug-soaked den of inequity, either, partly because the residents are dirt poor, but mainly because the first big stumbling block in the Rog’s existence was kicking out the dangerous junkies who squatted in the abandoned factory before the artists arrived. One long-time resident told us, “At first it was half artists, half junkies. Some on drugs, some just alcoholics. We kicked out the worst of them until eventually just one old alcoholic was left.”

The squatters managed to force out most of them via a concerted campaign of passive-aggression: making them feel unwelcome and ostracized until they packed up their shit and left for another abandoned building. But that one old alcoholic didn’t respond to social pressure. “Then he got some woman drunk, and we found her outside in the middle of winter — she had turned blue.”

“They can’t attack me if I turn my skin into art!”

The woman nearly died, but the squatters were able to get her medical attention. That near-death gave them the motivation they needed to physically force the last of the former tenants out of the factory. That’s the sort of thing you have to do yourself when …

#3. The Police Stay Out Of It … For Better Or Worse

Metelkova’s international reputation as an art gallery gained squatters a lot of affection within Ljubljana. When the Rog started up, they took advantage of that goodwill. “The police know it would look bad to come in here … so they don’t.”

During that giant party we attended, the cops did show up because of a noise complaint, but they were content to stay outside and give the DJ a 40 euro ticket for being too noisy. The Slovenian cops were actually super polite about the whole “loud squatter party” thing. As they wrote out the ticket, a group of around 40 people formed around the three officers, chanting slogans we assume were not positive about The Man and generally getting rowdy. At no point did the cops call for back-up or draw their weapons. But don’t misconstrue us: This isn’t because Slovenian cops are pacifists. They have riot police who fire tear gas at protesters, just like any country:

The tears just fuel more art.

From our vantage point, it seemed almost like the police were afraid of the squatters. Not that they might get violent, because nobody had any weapons in hand (this being Slovenia, none of them owned guns). The cops clearly did not want to actually enter the Rog and shut down the party because it would’ve been bad PR.

The negative flipside of this is that the police also aren’t willing to enter the squat to arrest people committing actual violent crime. One man we talked to in the Rog was assaulted by a crazed violent teenager and beaten badly with an iron bar. His jaw was broken and his skull was cracked to fuck and back. When he reported this to the police, their response was basically, “He’s your problem.” Hey, you want to live outside the law, you get your wish.

“Live by the squat, die by the squat.”

So, the squatters of the Rog decided to handle the perp themselves. “We dressed up in masks and gloves and showed up in his room in the middle of the night and threw him out. We gathered up all his stuff and tossed it out too.” Oh, hey, it’s starting to look like there might be an ugly side to the squatter artist life …

#2. You’re Only “Off The Grid” Until You Can Steal Your Way Back Onto It

When the first generation of squatters started squatting in Metelkova, they were living in half-demolished buildings with no water and power in the midst of a European winter. “The circumstances were rather hard. Many … just left because they could not bear the conditions. There was no electricity. Winter was coming. It was rather hard, and these people were … adults in the midst of careers. And then other squatters came … punks and people who wanted to party.”

The young punks were spry enough to last a bitter winter. They managed to acquire an old generator to power their concerts and started stealing water from the city. The Rog did the same thing, hijacking a fire hydrant for their own use.

Which isn’t to say things are super fancy there, even so.

Once they had the water, the government couldn’t take it away from them because then someone might die and it’d technically be their fault. As someone in the Rog told us, “The city installed a meter, and now they foot the bill for our water. At least … I hope they are paying the bill. I haven’t gotten a bill!”

OK, so this entry might make these people sound like the lazy suckers-of-government-teat your Trump-voting uncle assumes every liberal arts major aspires to be. But this is the hard reality of living off the grid. You can reject the evils of governments, corporations, and modern society, but you are still an organism that needs water to not die, as well as heat to stave off the winter and electricity to power your guitar. So there is always a point at which someone in the squat comes up with a brilliant idea to make some cash — you know, just enough to keep everyone alive. That’s when you find out …

#1. Going Legit Can Kill The Squat

Metelkova has existed — and grown — for 20 straight years. They’re an official NGO now. Today they’re hooked up to the city water and power grid legally … but that means they have bills. They pay them with profit from concerts and several bars (some of which are operating illegally), which have grown into a sizable revenue stream for Metelkova. “They finance everything; maintaining the building, paying the artists … not much, but something.” Metelkova has actually become successful enough that many folks make significant amounts of money running galleries and holding concerts there. It’s gained international recognition at the cost of, ironically, becoming too expensive for the kind of poor punk artists who founded it. Today it’s a popular place for rich student hipsters to party and feel cool.

The much-grungier Rog still stays true to its roots: Anyone can show up and make art or play music. But since Metelkova has bills, they can’t afford to let just anyone play or set up art: “If a band won’t bring in a lot of people, they won’t sell enough tickets and the bars won’t sell enough beer … so maybe they don’t get to play.” And that seems to be the life-cycle of these squats: They start with a bunch of furious, motivated young artists who want to create a place for themselves and their work. Then they get popular, start making money, and turn into boring ol’ art galleries just as snooty as their more traditional predecessors. That was clearly a major worry of several of the Rog’s “founding” residents. When we first visited, they were willing to give us a brief tour of their facilities …

Including the fake Dracula castle they were building for an independent horror movie.

But they didn’t want to sit down for an interview, and they pointed out several times that “no one is allowed to make money from the art they make here.” They warmed up to us eventually and even offered to sit down with us over coffee and explain their viewpoint.

Their coffee table was an old TV.

They all respected what Metelkova, the older squat, had done for squatter’s rights in the city. But they didn’t like what it had become (“It is in every tourist guide to Europe.”) and they all worried that the Rog would get too popular and become another hip concert venue for rich kids from London and Berlin to use as a backdrop for selfies. One resident pointed out that international companies have already started eyeing the Rog as a location to shoot ads. “Garnier Fructis wanted to pay us to film a commercial here.”

As you can tell from their non-table TV, they aren’t big fans of commercials.

Despite the fact that Garnier put thousands of dollars on the table, and despite the fact that most Rog residents are literal starving artists, they said no. Partly because Garnier tests on animals, they said, and partly because they’re straight-up terrified of getting too popular.

But that’s just how it goes. Over the years idealism melts away, money starts flowing in, and pretty soon what was once an enclave of the counter-culture becomes a commoditized chunk of the regular culture. In the beginning, Metelkova was host to dozens of squatters: Now just one person lives there full-time. The Rog is currently host to anywhere from eight to a few dozen residents, depending on the time of year. But every year they get a little more established, a little more money trickles in, and, eventually, the Rog will likely find its way into tourist guidebooks and become just another place where rich kids pay to party.

“115 of your friends have checked in here!”

And when that happens, a new generation of young artists who can’t afford to pay $50 to see a concert or drink $4 beers at a gallery show will find another abandoned building, fill it with art, thumb their noses at the cops, and the whole cycle will continue on.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-things-you-learn-professionally-squatting-in-awarehouse/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/177107993387

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allofbeercom · 6 years

Text

5 Things You Learn Professionally Squatting In AWarehouse

Why do they do it? How can they get away with it? We went and visited a couple to find out …

#5. You’ve Got To Fight For Your Right To Squat

Actually, the answer is art. Allow us to explain.

Just don’t ask us to explain the art.

This used to be a Yugoslavian army guard tower.

And this used to be a literal nightmare.

The second, Social Center Rog, also contains a shitload of art and — bonus! — a giant skate park.

No one built it. It just sort of appeared.

Why doesn’t the government just come and tear it down? They totally tried.

“After all, you never see them bulldoze a spraypainted building, right? Right?!”

But it worked.

Like the old saying goes: “The Illuminati-baby humping a soccer ball sculpture is mightier than the sword.”

Having a spider-tank on their side didn’t hurt.

#4. Squatting Means Kicking Out Previous Squatters

They only had one beer in that fridge, and it belonged to Ganesha.

“They can’t attack me if I turn my skin into art!”

#3. The Police Stay Out Of It … For Better Or Worse

The tears just fuel more art.

“Live by the squat, die by the squat.”

#2. You’re Only “Off The Grid” Until You Can Steal Your Way Back Onto It

Which isn’t to say things are super fancy there, even so.

#1. Going Legit Can Kill The Squat

Including the fake Dracula castle they were building for an independent horror movie.

Their coffee table was an old TV.

As you can tell from their non-table TV, they aren’t big fans of commercials.

“115 of your friends have checked in here!”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-things-you-learn-professionally-squatting-in-awarehouse/

0 notes