I started this at something like 4am when all this stuff was still going down, and crap, if I could control my muse, I wouldn’t be writing at such terrible hours, believe me. It’s 9am now. Anyway, fuck your canon, the inconsistencies are in there because I was actually writing this before Swag passed out from blood loss, so consider this an AU of an AU that AU Swag is dreaming about. Yeah. Chew on that for a while.
Pairings: Swag/Entre (Swagtre or Swagtrepreneur)
Trigger warnings: Smut, poorly written masturbation, Entre’s fantasies about dominating Swag because he’s tired of being pushed around I guess. 8)
This was one of the worst things he could ever have imgined happening to him.
And yet there he was, of his own free will, the flap of his tent zipped up tight and secure to avoid any disturbances. A single, thick blanket, mildly tattered and housing a musty smell, was draped over his shoulders to shield him from any shadows his body may have cast on the wall. His chair, old, and having already been repaired multiple times, creaked with even the slightest movement, a sound he was well used to by now. His back had turned to the tent’s flap to hide any potential onlookers should the zipper not be quite as secure as he’d hoped, and as he was the only one in camp who actually gave a damn about manners, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that no one else would give him the courtesy of an “are you in there?” before simply barging in.
ye good ye