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alicenpai · 1 year ago
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CHARM COMMISSIONS are now live!! INFO HERE
Please don't hesitate to ask if you have questions đŸ˜«đŸ‘
not first come first serve so take your time!
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theshadowrealmitself · 2 years ago
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A: So anyways with the captain and backup captains out of commission, we all took a vote and voted for B to be our next captain
B: I begged them not to! :)
B: But they didn’t listen to me
C: The only order we didn’t follow, but for any after that, we’re your loyal crew
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apastronism · 1 month ago
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general tag dump + dynamics ✹
#— â€ș ⌜out of character⌟#— â€ș ⌜queue⌟#— â€ș i realize i've been less than half myself for more than half my life. — ⌜in character⌟#— â€ș don't even try to give me shit‚ i've earned the right to be like this. — ⌜memes / dash games⌟#— â€ș here i am‚ pry me open. what do you want to know? — ⌜about⌟#— â€ș am i more than you bargained for yet? — ⌜musings / aes⌟#— â€ș i’m the new cancer‚ never looked better‚ you can’t stand it. — ⌜self⌟#— â€ș the pain of‚ the reign of‚ the flame of us. — ⌜& kennedy baker⌟#— â€ș i'll believe it all‚ i won't let go of your hand. — ⌜& freya jolicoeur⌟#— â€ș if i knew it all along‚ was i wrong to take you at your word? — ⌜& mauz baker⌟#— â€ș you put on a faith facade‚ think you're holy when you're not. — ⌜& deidre kaiser⌟#— â€ș tell me who i am‚ guess i don't have a choice. — ⌜& soren⌟#— â€ș though i burn‚ how could i fall when i am lifted by every word you say to me? — ⌜& annie astre / actstogether⌟#— â€ș you wouldn’t be the first renegade to need somebody. — ⌜& michael afton / bravevolunteer⌟#— â€ș you know i'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat. — ⌜& peter parker / sensesdialed⌟
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starlit-eudemonia · 7 months ago
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I loved this.
Hand kisses with Touchstarved LIs
Let's hope you're not the actual Touchstarved Mc, because that would fuck shit up. This may be a little bit OOC, but I just felt like writing. Also I do not ever EVER write, so why did i do this????
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The inside of your wrist
He's a wrist guy, he loves kissing the inside of your wrist. He keeps giving them all the time whether you're in a public setting or sharing an intimate moment. In public, usually, it's just a sweet peck on the inside of your wrist while gently intertwining your fingers. But when the two of you are alone he takes it a step further, sometimes even playfully nibbling on your sensitive skin. You always feel him smiling against your wrist while doing so.
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The back of your hand
Though it may appear quite formal to others, it's his way of showing his admiration for you. He's very polite and follows a well-practiced routine for these hand kisses. It begins with a bow, his hand reaching for yours and lifting it to his lips. His eyes lock onto yours, silently asking for permission. Only then does he grant a tender kiss upon your hand. No matter how many times this ritual has been repeated, he's committed to doing it again and again.
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Your knuckles
Knuckle kisser here, you can't change my mind. Even though he heals quickly after fights and his knuckles have no bruises, he still sees them kind of intimidating. So he just likes yours, because it's the same body part but still so gentle compared to his. He plants loving kisses on your knuckles and enjoys tracing his fingers along them, just feeling the texture of your soft skin. When you're alone this after-session can take several minutes.
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Your palm
Beware of the dog. The dog will bite! Do not ever trust this man. Especially at night, he likes the sensation of your palms and fingers caressing his lovely face, occasionally leaning into your touch. You might believe your gestures are lulling him to sleep, but again do not trust him! Just as you lower your guard, he surprises you by biting on your palm. (His favorite spot is the Venus mount!) I'd like to say it's just a gentle bite, but it probably hurts like hell, so I hope you're into it!
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The back of your fingers
I think they're someone who doesn't typically interlock their fingers with yours when you hold hands. Instead, they prefer to hold the tips of your fingers or just sweetly intertwine your pinkies. This works just fine, as they have the perfect angle to raise your fingers gently to their lips, planting a brief kiss upon them whenever you're on the move. Their touch is confident, but he is NOT. Don't expect this in front of others.
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah
your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but

An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m
well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you
I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re
I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but
well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch
fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a
interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn
not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I
not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t
well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me
such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N
not a whore, please

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young

— W
we really shouldn’t
 — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W
we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m
god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this
but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W
what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
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nopoodles · 1 year ago
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Hi
When you're writing, do you conceptualize the scene in your head as you go, or do you write, conceptualize, write again, OR, do you conceptualize first and then write it down?
I've been thinking on this for a while but since I've just spent an entire day trying to write a really tricky scene that popped into my head fully formed but keep getting interrupted (which is just the worst because the more I get interrupted the more my brain rebels and says it doesn't even want to try 😭) I thought now was the perfect time to answer.
So far I've written 5 whole books from start to finish (and by from start to finish I mean they have a start and finish and everything in between, not that I start at the start) and each of those began with a fully conceptualised scene in stunning cinema scope (usually the opening scene but not always)
But the rest of it, that mostly comes as I write. The words happen and the scene plays out in my mind in sort of stilted motions. Like a poorly buffered video.
But there are times, like with my tricky scene today, where I'll be doing something else and BAM! *Scene idea in perfect detail* (sometimes cinema style, sometimes it's like an audiobook and comes with the exact words, which is what happened with my tricky scene, which makes the interruptions all the worse since every time it happens I forget the words a little more like they're fading from the page and then I'm left scrabbling, knowing the words existed once, but that they are no longer within reach and I have no real way of returning them to me).
So, yeah, mostly I conceptualise as I go :)
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nateezfics · 4 months ago
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hi love! may i request how ot8 would react to your skirt being a little cheeky at the amusement park?
love your work and hope you're doing well đŸ©·đŸ©·
❝ wearing a short skirt on your amusement park date ❞
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: ̗̀➛ ateez’s reaction to you wearing a short skirt on your amusement park date. 2.3k words.
: ̗̀➛ ateez; boyfriend!ateez. established relationship. fluff. smut (suggestive).
: ̗̀➛ warnings: minors do not interact! suggestive sexual content. mentions of sexual themes. possessiveness. public displays of affection/arousal. tbh there’s nothing explicit so there’s really nothing to warn about lol. strong language. fem bodied!reader. intentional lower case and small font.
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hongjoong
god, you tested his patience. you really knew how to flirt your pretty little fingers around all his buttons, never fully pressing them but being so dangerously close to doing so. always just enough to make him tense and the prominent vein on his neck to pop a little.
hongjoong was in the queue right behind you as you stepped onto the ride. your absurdly short skirt fluttered as you did so, and from his position he was able to see the little pink panties you wore underneath...and so was everyone else, including the ride attendant who gawked at you like a deer in headlights. you plopped down into the cramped seat, blissfully unaware — or you just didn’t seem to care — while hongjoong had to mentally count to ten to keep himself from turning on that guy for even daring to look at you. though, he supposed it wasn’t all his fault; you were the one who decided to wear a fucking mini skirt to an amusement park.
“you know,” hongjoong began, settling himself next to you on the ride. “i really question your reasoning for wearing that.” He tugged at your skirt just as you both brought the bar over your laps. your thighs looked so pretty all exposed, mental images of your panty clad ass flashing in his mind, and hongjoong really wished that dumb ride attendant would stop throwing glances your way.
you smiled which only served to aggravate him more. “it’s such a cute skirt and i haven’t worn it yet! plus, it’s so hot outside today,” you reasoned with him while you watched others pile onto the ride. hongjoong scoffed.
“you sure you didn’t just wear it to drive me crazy?” he gripped your thigh tight, his fingers just under the hem of your skirt. “you think you’re so cute, huh? but let’s see how cute you are once i get you home.”
the ride jerked to life and began to move, his grip remaining firm. you smiled internally. your little plan worked, just like you knew it would.
seonghwa
seonghwa loved being close to you. he did, really. but it was so hot out today, and within the concretes and metals and crowds of the amusement park, it was scorching. your body was sweaty against his own. as much as he loved being near you, it was too hot for it. but you decided to wear one of the shortest skirts you owned today of all days, and he stuck close behind you to keep you from flashing anyone.
“hwa,” you whined as you both waited in line for the next ride. the sun was beaming down on you. you shuffled in place uncomfortably. “can you like, give me some space here? it’s hot as balls out here.”
seonghwa didn’t move an inch. he stayed in place, his taller form close behind you. you both probably looked ridiculous to everyone around you; they were all probably thinking you were that kind of couple. “sorry, can’t do that. not when you’re on the verge of flashing everyone in this damn park. what made you think wearing a mini skirt to an amusement park was a good idea?”
you huffed. “i don’t know. i just wanted to!” you tried to step forward, but two hands kept you firmly in place. “hwa, it’s really not that bad.”
“baby, one gust of wind and everyone can see your ass. and personally, i’m not too keen on everyone getting a view of you like that.” the queue moved, and you both shuffled a few steps forward.
“i’m wearing underwear —”
“god,” seonghwa groaned, his hands tightening on your hips. he was even closer now than before, his front pressed flat against your back. he dipped his head to whisper in your ear. “either you deal with me like this, or i’m taking you home and ripping this skirt off you. understand?”
you nodded slowly, a little taken aback by his words. that second option didn’t seem like that bad of a choice
.
yunho
yunho wasn’t keen of your skirt at the beginning of your date, and he certainly wasn’t fond of it now as he watched you throw your leg over the carousel horse. your skirt was so short, and as you straddled the horse it did little to cover your ass. he took a second to appreciate the sight of your panties peeking under what your skirt couldn’t quite cover, but then he noticed the people behind you were also appreciating the view.
“you’re going to be the death of me,” yunho whispered to himself as he got on the horse behind you, much to your confusion.
“there’s a free horse right here,” you said, pointing to the horse next to you where he should have been. you looked at him over your shoulder, and you caught the dip of his gaze.
“i’ll sit here. this spot’s got a
good view.” his gaze lingered on your ass for a moment as he hoped his larger frame could block you from the sight of those behind him. he groaned inwardly when you wiggled your ass; his dick twitched and fuck it this was not the time or place for this.
you giggled when you realized, unbothered that you’d flashed more than just your boyfriend. you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple before you turned to the front again. even as the carousel began to spin, you felt his eyes remain on your backside.
yunho was thankful when the carousel stopped and the two of you were off, but his pants felt a little more snug than they had before the ride. he grabbed your smaller hand and lead you towards the park exit, not giving you any other choice but to follow him.
“yunho, where are we going?”
he didn’t even look back. “home so i can get you out of that fucking skirt.”
yeosang
yeosang was not one to say much about your outfit choices, even during times like this when you were skipping around the amusement park in what appeared to be the shortest skirt he’d ever seen you wear. he was walking behind you, struggling in silence, eyes glued to your backside even though he tried so hard not to stare.
you whirled around with a beaming smile. “yeosang, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” your skirt twirled when you turned to face him; you undoubtedly just flashed everyone around you. yeosang was really going through it.
“uh, okay, baby. let’s go ride it.” yeosang was thankful the ferris wheel carts were enclosed. the last thing he wanted was you hoisted in the air for the whole park to see under your skirt. but inside the cart, you really must have wanted him to suffer when you plopped yourself right on his lap.
“fuck, baby, what are you trying to do to me?” his low voice was raspy, a groan slipping out when you shifted in his lap to make yourself more comfy. he felt himself starting to get stiff, and getting a hard on on a ferris wheel was not ideal.
you faced him and smiled; you looked so innocent, but there was a mischievous gleam in your eyes that he couldn’t miss. “i’m not doing anything, yeo.”
yeosang let out a sound that was a combination of a scoff, groan, and laugh. “bull shit.” his palms were grazing your thighs and traveling upwards, fingers dipping under your skirt. he swallowed hard when you gasped, the sound going straight to his dick. “god, i can’t believe you. i hope you’re planning on helping me out here, right?”
san
“and we have a winner!” the amusement park employee handed san the prize he’d won, a large plushie just about the size of his whole upper body. san was quick to hand it to you, laughing at the way you struggled to hold it.
in your excitement, you twirled around, your newly won plushie squished in your arms. but your skirt, a bit too short, flew up and gave a quick flash of the pink panties that lied underneath. “san, i love it! what should i name it?”
san laughed nervously, quickly drawing to your side and smoothing his hands over your hips to keep your skirt down. “i’m glad you love it, but baby,” he practically whined at you. “you can’t be out here twirling like that. you wanna flash the whole park?”
you giggled, snuggling your plushie tighter. “sorry, sannie.”
san smiled and kissed the top of your head. “silly little baby in your tiny skirts. i think you’re trying to mess with me.” his hands stayed on your hips while he fought the temptation to reach down and grope your ass.
“maybe a little,” you admitted with another giggle. “but i knew you’d like it, so that’s why i wore it.” you felt excitement bubble in your belly when you saw the way his gaze darkened a little.
“oh, i do like it,” san agreed. “but i think everyone else here does, too. and i can’t have others looking at you like this. so, how about i get you home, yeah?”
mingi
mingi had lost count of how many times he’d seen your ass so far today. not that he could complain about that, but he was certainly confused as to why you decided to wear a mini skirt to an amusement park. “baby, you keep messing with your skirt, but it’s not gonna get any longer.”
you huffed at him while you pulled at your skirt. you were regretting your decision making skills currently. was the outfit cute? yes. was it practical for the occasion? no. but you didn’t want to admit defeat; your boyfriend would be way too smug. “it’s fine, just needed a little fixing.”
he watched you very obviously grow frustrated with your short skirt, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “oh yeah? I bet you won’t last much longer until you’re begging me to give you my jacket to cover up.”
you put your hands on your hips. “i bet i’ll be just fine.”
mingi chuckled as he closed in on you. “fine. but if i win, that skirt’s coming off as soon as we get in the car.”
your heart leaped in your chest at the meaning of his words. even though it was enticing, you still didn’t want to admit that you were dumb for wearing this skirt. so you tried not to fiddle with it for the rest of the day, tried to act unbothered that you were giving everyone in the park a free view of your undies. but you eventually had enough, and soon you had your boyfriend’s denim jacket wrapped around your hips, a signal of your defeat.
mingi brought his lips to your ear when you both got in the car later, his hand traveling up your thigh. “skirt off, baby.”
wooyoung
“woo, get some pictures of me in front of the ferris wheel!” you handed your phone to your boyfriend and ran to get in front of the ferris wheel.
wooyoung knelt down to get the best angles, but as he snapped photo after photo, all he could focus on was how short your skirt was. and every time you changed to a different pose your panties flashed as your skirt moved. “well, if you’re goal is to show off your panties in every single picture, i’d say you succeeded.”
you frowned and rushed to take your phone from him. you swiped through the pics and he was right, your panties could be seen in every shot. you sighed. “well, it’s because of the angle. you were crouched down the whole time. it’s like you wanted to get shots up my skirt, you perv!”
wooyoung laughed. “it’s not me! it’s that little mini skirt of yours. maybe you should have worn something a little more appropriate for the occasion.” he laughed some more when you playfully swatted at his arm.
you couldn’t help the way your cheeks grew warm. you gave him your phone again and walked back towards the ferris wheel. “okay, get some more pics. but this time, no pervy up the skirt shots, alright?”
“you look too fucking good in that skirt. can’t make any promises, baby.” wooyoung gave you a wink before snapping some more photos.
jongho
jongho was judging you. hard. and not because you were in a short skirt, but rather because you looked way too damn good in it. and you were in an amusement park, one of the last places to be wearing something so short. other men were staring, thinking they were being sneaky with their glances, but he caught them. it was making him feel a little aggravated; not with you, but with the way he needed to have you but couldn’t because you weren’t at home.
you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend as you searched for the next thing to ride. “we haven’t done the carousel yet. wanna go ride that?”
there was a mental image of you straddling one of the carousel horses and jongho tensed. “you sure that’s such a good idea?”
you looked at him in confusion. “why wouldn’t it be?”
“well
” jongho peered down at your skirt, and you got the hint.
you smirked. “oh. does it bother you?”
he cleared his throat. “it does,” he admitted. “but in a ‘you’re driving me insane and i have the sudden urge to take you home’ kind of way.” his grip on your hand tightened.
you giggled as you looked at him. he looked tense, and it was so obvious how affected he was. all because of your skirt. “we ride this ferris wheel then go home. deal?”
jongho groaned. “deal.”
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notes from nat: this request is so perfect for the summer time. thanks for sending it in, anon! hope you enjoyed!!
taglist: @abiaswreck @charreddonuts @hongthoven @httpseungmxn @itza-meee @jungkookieprincess @jaerisdiction @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @maltesejjong @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @svintsandghosts @thesafecafe @wolfgurl2600-blog @5starduca @yyaurii
networks: @kflixnet @wonderlandnet
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© nateezfics. do not plagiarize. do not repost. do not translate.
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monty-glasses-roxy · 1 year ago
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HALLOWEEN GAME TIME!!! WE'RE GOING TRICK OR TREATING!!!
ON THE DAY OF HALLOWEEN ask me or anyone else that's reblogged this, "trick or treat" and you shall recieve a random thing in your trick or treater bucket! What thing?
THAT'S UP TO WHO'S BLOG DOOR YOU'RE KNOCKING ON!!
A little doodle of their blorbo? An incorrect quote? A drawing of a little cat? A fun fact about bees? A little drabble (100 words I mean but do as you will) for a random thing? A photo of their pet dog? A headcanon? A fic recommendation? A random meme? An OC? A link to their current favourite song? A nice, virtual slap in the face? A trick? A treat? WHO KNOWS!!! NOT YOU OR ME THAT'S FOR SURE!!! (Just no screamers or shit like that of course lets not forget that lmao)
Why am I saying this now instead of on the day of the game? So anyone else that wants to play has plenty of time to prepare a little handful of things for the trick or treaters!!
Remember, it doesn't have to be anything big!!! You can be the blog that's giving everyone images of rotisserrie chicken you found on google, or you can be the blog that's giving everyone pictures of your cat if you want!! This is a low spoons and low stress game so do whatever you want to do that's easy for you!! Be a mix of everything or just give a 'hi!' it doesn't matter, it's all in good fun!! And we can trick or treat each other too, of course. Not as fun if you can't get any tricks or treats too, right? Anyone can trick or treat and anyone can be trick or treated!
I recommend making/queueing a post on the day so everyone knows you're playing btw (anyone that reblogs this post will get one off me too if they don't say otherwise in tags and if I remember I said this)
FOR TRICK OR TREATERS!!!
All you gotta do is send an ask with 'trick or treat' in it on Halloween! Halloween day!! 31st of October!! Day of spooky!! That's it!! (And if you go on anon no one will know if you come back again but I didn't tell you that lmao) I'll be answering any I get when it's Halloween in my timezone and I'm sure I won't be the only one so if you ask earlier, hang tight! It's probably not Halloween yet or they don't have time just yet cause it's a Tuesday! I believe that's everything so...
Have fun guys!!
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theemporium · 7 months ago
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[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.
.
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“Fuck.” 
Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.
“You good?” 
“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”
“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”
Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 
“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”
The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”
Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”
“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 
“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”
Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”
Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”
“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 
“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”
“Mhm.”
“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”
“I’m good.”
“Jack—”
“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”
Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.
Not yet, at least.
Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.
...
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yourusername ready to rock north americaâ€ïžđŸ–€
view all 13,738 comments
user i am going to the nashville show!!!
user she is THE moment
user omg i can't believe the tour has already started
user BKEWBFJBWEKFBKWEJBF
jackhughes congrats on the tour!! ur gonna kill it!!â€ïžâ€đŸ”„
user JACK HUGHES????
user who the fuck is jack hughes?
...
“What are you giggling at?”
“I’m not giggling at anything.” 
Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 
It was starting to grate on his last nerve.
“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 
“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 
But Luke heard loud and clear.
He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 
“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 
A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.
Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 
“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 
“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 
“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 
“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 
“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 
“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 
“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 
“That’s not important.”
Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 
Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 
“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 
“Maybe.” 
“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 
Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 
“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 
But he did. 
He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 
...
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yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at homeâ€ïžđŸ–€
view 12,930 comments
user MOTHER!!!
user hot AND talented. your fav could never
user new music when!!!
user THE SHIRT-
jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍
user not this guy again
user not a man
notzegrasipromise JACK???
...
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...
“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 
That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 
Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 
“Uh, what?” 
“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.
“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”
“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”
“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.
“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.
“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”
“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”
Jack’s cheeks burned. 
Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”
“She likes them!” Jack defended. 
Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.
“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.
“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.
“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”
Once again, the locker room fell silent.
“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 
Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”
“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 
“So are you!” 
“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”
“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”
The boys all gave each other various looks.
“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”
For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 
...
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yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!â€ïžđŸ–€
view all 14,737 comments
user i cannot believe the tour is almost over
user NEW MUSIC WHEN
user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!
user oh my god she is so hot
jackhughes coming back to the better coastâ€ïžđŸ–€
user omg he is copying the hearts too
user he is delusional
user it is the devils colours
user you sound just as delusional as him
...
“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 
“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.
“And I went on Twitter.”
“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.
“Jack.” 
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”
“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 
“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”
“Uh huh.”
“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 
“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”
His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 
“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”
“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”
Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 
quinnifer: ur right 
quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause
...
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yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes â€ïžđŸ–€
view all 37,373 comments
jackhughes glad to have my girl homeâ€ïžđŸ–€
user WHAT
user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick
user i can't believe we lost her to a man
user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE
user omg he actually stood a chance
trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK
trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock
user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS
lhughes_06 holy shit
_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming
trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY
user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend
jackhughes he will be fine
trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE
trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY
jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend
yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included
trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff
user what the fuck did i just wake up to
.
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occamstfs · 1 month ago
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Follow Your Nose
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Robin's not happy about visiting his student's frat house but with each heady breath he finds new pleasures to be gained from the experience.
Another Musk based Frat TF! Not breaking new ground but I like how this one turned out haha! Also in the wake of my contest I'm restarting the queue on my other blog so if you want to see what I read/have any burning questions send them over there! Hope you enjoy this little scent-centric romp! -Occam
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Robin hated being on this side of campus; he doesn't know why on Earth he agreed to do a homecall for office hours. Totally unprofessional of course, but the grad student was simply so tired of sitting in his cold office for nary a soul to show up. When Carlos reached out asking for some one on one assistance the T.A. agreed to venture to what he was told was a common study area. What Carlos hid from Robin was that it just so happened to be his frat’s living room. 
The researcher almost turned around and rain checked as soon as he saw. But after Carlos texted to thank him for his help, whatever scholarly version of the Hippocratic oath he took compels him to continue onward despite himself. It of course doesn’t hurt that the slightly younger man seems to have been made in a lab to attract Robin. Though the professional has done his absolute best to remain professional and push down the repressed desire. Though as he steps in this is made far more difficult.
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Carlos welcomes him into the frat house clad in a far too tight, clearly stained, tee and what seem to be, impossibly gaudy, similarly tight, athletic shorts. Immediately Robin’s face sears with blush and the smirk that is almost always at home on Carlos’ face grows wider. Before the fratty fiend can get a word in the grad student speaks up, fighting through an embarrassing voice crack, “uHm- Mr. Esperanza if you wouldn’t mind, could you change into something more appropriate for our session?” Carlos tilts his head, deliberately exposes his midriff as he scratches it. After a moment he laughs and answers remembering why he’s dressed like this, “Oh sure sure no problema bro.” 
Robin’s eye twitches as his student opts for bro rather than his title, name, or anything vaguely respectful. The T.A. hears the man’s hands scratching thick hair out of sight before he sniffs his hand and rubs his jaw, continuing, “It’s just uhhh, my laundry’s still in the machine so this is all I could throw on before you got in huhuh.” Robin holds his tongue from deriding the man’s shoddy planning, I mean for god’s sake they had an appointment!
So intent on hiding his attraction to, and irritation at, his student, Robin doesn’t quite catch the glint in his eye as Carlos offers an idea, “if you wouldn’t mind, uhhh, professor? You could go grab me some pants or somethin’” Not wanting to correct Carlos’ switch up to a title far loftier than his own and before he can even humor the idea that he’d wander deeper into the frat house, the bro thanks him as if he’s already agreed. “Thanks much lil bro- I’ll get us all set up here. It’ll be the third door on your right but you can probably just follow your nose hahah!”
Robin squints his eyes at the brazen assumption that he’d do anything of the sort. And yet, preferring anything to confrontation, he acquiesces with a sigh. The faster they start the faster Robin’s out of here. But a step down the hallway his nose wrinkles as he realizes that Carlos was not being cute, he can genuinely smell the laundry room far down the hall. Taking a deep breath and centering himself before the air is full of more musky sweat than oxygen, he shifts his jaw in irritation at the situation he stumbled himself into and presses onward.
Robin pushes open the unreasonably heavy door of the laundry room and enters. He hears the door slam but keeps his eyes forward as he endeavors to spend as little time in here as possible. Pushing down rational questioning of why he is doing this, in his haste he makes the mistake of opening the washing machine rather than a dryer that would presumably hold Carlos’ clothes. Before he even realizes his mistake he is almost blasted back by the potent musk spilling out of the drum. Choking out a ‘why wasn’t this run
” as his eyes glaze over and he is overwhelmed by the scent.
It’s as if there are more particles of sweat in the air than, uh, air. His mouth falls open to avoid smelling but that only heightens the experience and leads to him taking deeper breaths. Despite everything in him screaming to leave now, Robin feels himself drawn towards the machine that simply must have been intentionally compiled to smell as musky as possible. As the seconds pass Robin feels his body begin to move of its own accord, like an out of body experience he sees himself inch closer to the machine. There’s a struggled swallow as he is suddenly conscious that he is drooling at the scent of the frat’s dirty laundry.
When his hand reaches into the filthy load of laundry he feels his autonomy return and he quickly draws back. Clothes almost crunchy with sweat, and other substances, he stands stunned as he tries to understand what he just did, why he did that. Only then does he notice that he is so hard that anyone who glanced in his direction would notice. It almost hurts as his cock strains against his underwear and pulses with deep need. 
Priority rapidly shifting to hiding his massive erection should Carlos stumble in Robin opts to adjust his pants. Rather than doing it surreptitiously as he would usually do, he shoves his hand directly in his underwear in a manner distinctly boorish. Notably he also plods around his underpants with his dominant hand, the same one that only just left the frat’s collection of their dirtiest tops, bottoms, and drawers.
Stained hand now touching his cock he is overwhelmed with the desire to never remove it from this spot again. Drool still pooling in his mouth, Robin almost forgets his surroundings as cock seems more impressive than it’s ever been before now. Or no, his hand seems larger, rougher, more powerful. He squints as the seconds pass and the sensations continue to shift before he looks down to find that his bulge is indeed larger than he has ever seen it. Biting his lip he glances at the door and, demonstrating his clearly fading rationality, decides ‘fuck it’ and pulls out his cock.
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Haloed with pubes that are growing thicker, spreading further, with each quivering breath and graced touch from his stained hand. Pre drips from the head of his thicker cock as it stands high, beginning to rival the length of his forearm as it inches longer with each heartbeat, each uncontrollable pulse. He cups his balls to remove them from his underwear and is again struck dumb. God they’re itchy. 
He scratches at them as his nails almost draw back into his hand, to the eye of an observer they shift from manicured to the deliberately uncared for, dirty nails of a frat bro. Thus he must dig even deeper to satisfy his itching balls as long, thick curls begin to spread across them. Each drag across finds them larger than they were less than a second before. Each mindless scratch they hang lower, stretch his sack larger as his balls begin to rival the size of eggs and churn to fill him with hormones that will make it all the harder for him to think his way out of this, or any, room. 
Despite his mind awash, feeling his hand begin to mindlessly move to start masturbating in this frat’s laundry room he regains his senses. Fear suddenly overwhelms his lusts and need for pleasure as he tries to inspect his body. Looking down at his hands he finds they both have changed and the horrors have not stopped there. Thick dark hair and a haphazard tan have spread up his forearms and as he feels heat begin to burn on his bicep it’s clear this is a situation still ongoing. Robin struggles to stand and falls over on his face, squarely landing in some brute’s discarded briefs. Fighting back a smirk as he is inoculated with a direct dose of his frat brother’s musk, Robin rolls over in fear of the changes that must be about to begin on his face.
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His nose adjusts as memories of breaking it twice assert themselves into his mind. Rob feels his biceps bulge against his forearms as he raises his hands to his face. Grunting and ignoring how much deeper his voice is as it echoes in the room, he talks to himself to begin his flight, “Mrgh, I gotta, get out of here.” Trying to pull his pants up, before they can even struggle to cover his monumental bulge and increasingly cushioned ass, his jeans are caught on his thighs. Muscle and fat press larger as they become two massive meaty trunks. Dropping the pants to inspect his suddenly impressive legs he flexes them and goes weak at the knees as desire tries to take over once more. 
Rob only just fights these rising instincts and makes for the door. Then does he find the most clearly sinister aspect of this situation yet, it’s locked. His uhh, boy? His bro. Yeah his bro trapped him in here. Fuckin’ Carlos did this to him on purpose he bets. Leaning against the door he finds his breathing suddenly inhibited by the tight shirt that he’s been wearing. Seeing his waist has apparently filled out, his stomach quivers with butterflies. He’s always been envious of his bro’s forms but man he looks just as killer huhuh. His widening upper body sends tears through the shirt without his hands even needing to tear the top off. 
Dressed in nothing but torn shreds on the floor of the, er his, frat’s laundry room Rob’s clouded mind observes the final touches of his new form. Weighty pecs pulse larger and hang over his new thick torso. Hamhock thighs frame a bulge that would make any mouth water. He scratches stubble growing thicker on his face while he begins to thoughtlessly masturbate against the laundry room door. Stretching his neck as it thickens to hold up a head growing thicker and mind growing duller, his mouth falls open and he appreciates the musk of his bros as if it's the most pleasant thing in the world to him. Were this the rest of his life the horny bro wouldn’t mind. Rubbing his torso as thick curls begin to decorate him like a beast. Treasure trail stretching from pubes thicker than foliage. He raises his free arm to bathe in his own musk.
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His mouth waters as he realizes he doesn’t need to use these other’s fucker clothes to get off! He’s got the sweet stuff right here. Any shreds remaining of the prudish, frat-phobic teacher’s assistant vacate as he delights in his own pit. Thickening curls spread outward from deep in his pits as a truly voluminous mass begins to press out from under his arms. His tongue stretches out from his mouth into the jungle as it grows thicker, perpetually soaked in his new musk. And then Rob loses control. Decorating the walls and himself and finally adding his own mess to their little ode to locker rooms everywhere. 
Tongue out enjoying himself in what is apparently his new home, sweat begins to pool under the man’s discovery of new delights. It seems like forever for him but in reality, a few minutes later he feels the door push into him, “Yooo bro what’s takin’ you so long?” Carlos opens the door and pinches his nose to avoid the stink of the room and the overpowering scent of Rob’s first time.
 Rob’s dumb smirk and glazed eyes meet Carlos’ mischievous grin and the new brother speaks in his new bass, “Uhhh, didn’t you lock me in here bro?” His brother stifles laughter and ruffles Rob’s sweaty new haircut, “You dumbass huhuh- It’s a pull door.” It takes a few seconds for Carlos’ words to sink in but after realizing that he simply forgot how doors work he joins in laughing loud enough to shake the foundations of their frat house. “Brooo huhuh!” 
“Now throw something on so we can figure this shit out!” Rob goes to grab clothes from some stray hamper filled with someone’s dirty laundry and heads out. Walking out of his musky captivity, Rob finds a new warmth fill him as he wanders into the house, into his house. The frat didn’t quite need a new member but Carlos is more than happy to make the most out of his new brother. Not all of them are so unabashedly into their own musk but judging by Rob’s changes and the already returning erection in his shorts, Carlos can’t wait to see what the two of them will get up to in their new lives together.
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 28 days ago
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≡;-꒰ đ‘żđ‘šđ‘œđ‘°đ‘Źđ‘č (đ‘łđ‘Œđ‘Žđ‘°đ‘Źđ‘č𝑬) ꒱₊˚ àŹȘâŠč I  𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆
╰┈➀ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 14 (15
 x_x)
tags : pwp (with plot), (it’s uhh kind of more on the plot side ish
 i think? maybe? hfskj), praise, established but developing relationship, mild angst, hurt/comfort (ish), jealousy, possessiveness, slight spoilers for the lumiere myth, references to “midnight whispers”, kissing and making out, sliiight dry humping, wall sex, vaginal sex, desperate sex so it’s kind of rough ish, creampie, tl;dr both of you just can’t get enough of each other, use of pet names “angel” and “my star”, lmk if i missed any tags!
wc : 3.7k
an : okay so i’m late queueing this but. COUNTDOWN TO XAVIER’S BIRTHDAY - ONE DAY TO GO !!! :D for my beloved darling boy here’s 1 out of 3 total fics prepared for him this month <333 (which may be off-schedule, BUT
) this was fun to write, so i hope you have just as much fun reading! sdkjfhsdk at this point i think i’ve barely ever written xavier fics without plot/feelings
 loving this man will just do that to you i guess

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @spotted-salamander @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @rafayelsgf @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @love-and-deepstrays @keioxo @theanbitchless (SIGN UP HERE)
AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS
There’s a lot more to Xavier’s jealousy than you realize, and you’re adamant on setting it right.
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This was how it was to be in love with you.
The sweet smell of roses, a walk under the cherry tree.... The calm breeze of morning and soft, fresh linen sheets. Sunlight peeking in through the window, pages of a book. Of words that could mean more to him than he could ever think to describe.
Xavier could call on all the possible analogies he could think of, pull from all the poems and stories that he'd read. And yet none could compare to you. It was in the same way that the stars were second to none—so too, then, were you.
You had always called him your star. But to him, the opposite was just as true.
And perhaps that was why this was so difficult.
The stars were different.
Sometimes changing in position, sometimes visible, sometimes not... From where the both of you stood, they were tiny specks of light in the vast domain of the sky—illuminating the night as much as they could, but part of a different world altogether. Unreachable. Untouchable. So bright, so radiant, that the single, slightest touch could burn him down to nothing.
They belonged to the skies; better admired from afar. It was torture to fall in love with something that, to anyone, felt utterly, unspeakably unattainable—
But that was how it was to be in love with you.
And it was a curse as much as a blessing.
"So then Tara mentioned this new place that opened up recently, and she swears by its service! She said we should totally go out and celebrate!" Your eyes gleamed with excitement as you spoke, taking in a spoonful of your ice cream to bring up to your lips. "So this does mean I have a little last-minute rendezvous later tonight... I'd have invited you, too, but—you know. Girl's night?"
His gaze remained transfixed.
The pace at which you both walked was matched, and relatively relaxed—yet he'd barely touched his ice cream. Instead, blue eyes focused on you as you spoke, tracing the movement of your lips and that sparkle in your eyes that he could never ever tire of.
"Okay," he murmured.
When you looked up at him, he glanced away, bringing a hand back to rub sheepishly at the bridge of his nose.
"...Really, really? Just okay? You usually, I dunno, ask me more about the people I'm with, or something..."
He shook his head, and there it was—the little smile on your face didn't go unnoticed. He knew you were trying not to tease, and your actions were so well-known by him that he'd memorized them all for himself. It was endearing to see you like this, knowing you probably knew his habits just as well as he did yours. And at the same time, he knew that you were right.
"Well, I mean... It's just Tara and the others," he said slowly. "You've... been spending a lot of your time with your hunter friends lately. I know who they are."
"I know who they are. You've a way with words, huh?" With a roll of your eyes, you took another bite of ice cream, before nudging him slightly with your elbow. "I've been trying to get to know more of the hunters in the Association lately. There's a lot of them, you know? I'm really glad that everyone's been so nice."
This time, he didn't say anything. Only a quiet hum, the soft crunch of autumn leaves on the concrete a sound that proved comforting to both of you.
The truth was, he was trying not to be so childish about it.
Something stirred in his chest when you spoke, that familiar discomfort that came with a feeling he knew to be jealousy.
It wasn’t a nice feeling.
But it was also easy to lose a star.
It was easy to lose you when, sometimes, he didn’t feel as if he had the right, really, to own you.
Because who was he to control your feelings?
There was no guarantee that, in this lifetime, you wouldn’t just up and leave.
And the more time you spent with others, the more he realized how true that could be.
There was no certainty that this was end game.
“Xavier?”
He heard your voice call out softly to him, and he looked down—
God. You were so cute.
Your head tilted to the side with a little air of concern, and he couldn’t help but smile. The moment a gentle breeze blew, he leaned down for a cheeky kiss on your forehead.
“X-Xavier—?!”
The incredulous expression on your face was one he wished he could preserve in his mind for eternity. He was sure that if that were possible, he really would.
“It’s nothing,” he assured. And he, himself, wanted to believe that to be true. “I like walking with you. It’s nice like this.”
It’s nice like this.
I hope it stays like this.
I hope that this time, we can just
 stay together

—
Oops.
That was the first thought in your head as you shot up from bed, eyes bleary with sleep.
Your phone was in your hand, and you stared aghast.
Package delivered.
You thought you’d been delusional when you could have sworn you heard nothing of a doorbell, until you looked at the address. And that was not your apartment number. That was Xavier’s.
You’d forgotten to change it—again.
Haphazardly throwing on a sweater and putting on your shoes, you raced out your door. The fact that you had yet to receive a text from him about it, nor have it delivered to you, likely meant one of two things: either he hadn’t received it and it was waiting outside his door, or he’d discovered what was in it.
His door absolutely did not have a package waiting outside it.
“Xavier? Xavier!” a little bit out of breath from the sheer shock of such a morning, you called out for him and hurriedly knocked on his door.
“Good morning,” came a voice from inside.
He wasn’t opening the door.
“Xavier
?”
“Is this about your package?”
“...Yes! Yes, it is! I forgot to change the address—”
“I have it.”
“Th-that’s great! Could you, maybe, open the door
”
A shuffling could be heard, and when the door did open, your jaw immediately dropped at the sighed before you.
He had opened it.
“Did you really order this? Were you planning to come here again and ask me to wear it?”
Xavier was frowning, his arms crossed in front of him—he wasn’t at all happy, that much you could tell. But you almost couldn’t focus on that. Not with the black tassel ear cuff hanging on his right ear, not with the suit he was currently wearing. And, those black gloves, the metal cuffs, the gold embellishments, the crimson dye, the blood-red collar
 and everything.
It was a stark difference to how you usually saw him.
Xavier almost never wore black
 But this looked phenomenal on him.
In retrospect, you supposed that there was nothing he could ever truly look bad in. But this? This was a whole other level of eye candy. There was absolutely no keeping that giddy smile from spreading across your face, even as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that
”
The way his brows furrowed was near downright adorable, the corners of his mouth turning down into a little pout. You could have squealed.
Almost.
Instead, your hands reached out in a look of wonder as you slid your touch down the side of his arm, feeling the well-made fabric of the suit. It was just a cosplay, and yet, it nonetheless seemed so well-made, mearly comparable to the original

“You opened the package? It’s mine, you know,” you murmured, and with a huff, he stepped aside to allow you into his apartment. You weren’t mad that he opened it, really—and the fact that he put it on? While you could tell he wasn’t happy about it, he was already being nice enough to indulge you with all this again.
“Is it really your package? You could have delivered it here on purpose. I saw Lumiere on the label. These are clothes in my size.”
For a moment the two of you stared at each other in silence, and you could very well remember how this played out the last time you were in this situation.
“Well,” you started, if only to fill the air around you that had grown a little tense. “I didn’t expect it to arrive this soon
 We were talking about it last night. You know, with the girls? A few days ago at the office, apparently Nero was all busy because a new line of Lumiere merch came out—a whole alternate costume! We talked about it all night and I had to order a set, too, I just thought I wouldn’t get it for another week—”
You were cut off in a swift movement.
With wide eyes, you found yourself pressed up against the wall, Xavier’s hands on either side of your head. The warmth of his presence so near you had you holding your breath, almost as if the air around you had turned from tense to suffocating. There was something about it that simply rendered you unable to breathe. It was easy to get all dizzy with him so close to you.
But when you looked at him, what you were met with was... not anger.
There wasn’t a trace of it on his features.
Instead, you were surprised to see a hint of something else.
His lips pressed into a thin line. Displeased, yes—but his gaze, while kept on yours, was desperate. Eyebrows knitted together, eyes narrowed ever so slightly with the prospect of almost begging you for something that you couldn’t quite place... Something you felt as if you should.
“Xavier?” you murmured. Your hand raised, slowly, carefully, up to cup his face.
This was different from the last time you’d played around with Lumiere’s costumes. He wasn't just sulking over it.
“...But is that really who you want to be calling?” His voice was quiet. Too quiet. This was an emotion you couldn’t quite read, nor was it one that was familiar to you.
“Xavier? What’s going—”
“It’s always like this.”
Your mouth shut, and you frowned, trying desperately to understand the tone in his voice.
“It’s still always Lumiere, right?” he let out a slow breath. “Why do you care so much about Lumiere? You’d talk about him to your friends, too. You’d spend an entire night without me for him.”
“What? That’s not—I told you, we just wanted to—”
“But I’m right here.”
The calm, even tone with which he’d been speaking slipped in that moment. A crack in his voice—though barely audible right in the moment—wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by you.
Something was wrong.
He was rarely ever like this with you—this wasn’t even an argument, it was just
 It was something.
His right hand, previously placed by your ear, shifted to take your hand from his cheek. Taking the other at the same time, he pinned both hands back against the wall, preventing you from moving. The lace of your fingers together had you hyper aware of the leather texture of his gloves, and your breath hitched. 
He leaned in.
“I’m right here.”
A repeat of his words.
Yet he almost sounded as if he could break.
“I know you are,” you started, speaking carefully.
“Do you?”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
This time you spoke firmly, meeting his gaze full-on with a certain sense of conviction that you were not going to let him try to doubt. “Please... what brought this on, Xavier?”
For a while, there was no answer.
His chest rose and fell, deep, calming breaths for himself almost as if trying to compose himself in front of you. You didn't like that. He did it so often; hiding things from you for your sake, putting on a braver face for you if only to keep you from worrying any more than you needed to.
But you needed to.
You wanted to.
Was that not what a relationship entailed? To worry about each other?
You could tell that this meant more to him than simple, petty jealousy—and you were determined to find out what that was.
“Don’t do that,” you mumbled. You frowned slightly, as if to make your point. “Don’t act in front of me. Don't put up a front. You’re upset, right? Something’s wrong. Xav
 Are you still jealous? Is that what this is?”
“...I’m not.”
“But you are. Don’t do that.”
Like before, his eyes averted, but you didn’t miss the way he had to grit his teeth just to make sure he would keep a straight face.
“Xavier.”
You tugged at your wrists.
“Xavier.”
His eyes closed. While his grip on your hands loosened slightly, he didn’t let up—his forehead pressed against yours, and for the first time, you realized how shaky he felt. 
His breath was warm. His hands were warm. You could barely notice the cold of the wall pressed against your back, the rest of his living room fading away into the background as if all that existed was you, and him, and this little corner you had to yourselves.
As if it were all that mattered.
In a way, it was.
He was all that ever mattered.
“I don’t want it to change,” he whispered. His voice was small; smaller than you had ever heard it before. “I don’t want us to change.”
“Huh? But we’re not changing
”
“No, we’re not. I hope we don’t. It’s enough like this, just to be with you
”
Something about his words stirred at the pit of your stomach.
I hope we don't.
Perhaps that was it. Perhaps you'd been spending too much time without him, and perhaps he just wanted to feel... a little more wanted by you.
“Xavier
”
This time your hand slipped away from his hold, and it was back on his face, cupping his cheek. You watched him lean into it—a soft sigh of resignation, nuzzling into the palm of your hand like he wanted nothing more than your touch.
You swallowed thickly.
“Xavier, it’s not that I’m so fond of Lumiere
” you spoke softly. “I’m fond of you.”
His eyes opened, a slow blink of mild confusion.
“Lumiere is you. Is he not? He’s handsome, and gentle
 just like you are.”
When his expression didn’t let up, you continued.
“Xavier, you saved me. I’ve always thought that Lumiere was amazing
 But, now, knowing that he’s you—doesn’t that mean I get to love both you and him at the same time?” Your thumb rolled over his skin, and you leaned up slightly, teasing for a kiss. “I loved you first. So I like him because he’s you.”
The tips of your noses touched, and his lips brushed against yours. Your eyes locked this time, and he was all that you could see. All that you would ever see. Close. Impossibly close. Within reach
 this time, because this was the Xavier that had come to love you. And that was all that mattered to you.
Maybe you felt a little sense of pride knowing this star was all yours. And maybe that was what he needed to feel, too.
“I
 don’t like him,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be him
 I just
 want to be me. With you. Like this.”
"And you are you."
"But I'm not Lumiere. Lumiere is part of the past. I want
 I
 I'm here."
Ah.
Somehow, you understood.
Your gaze softened, and you let out a slow, quiet sigh. "Oh, Xavier
" you mumbled. “I like you no matter who you choose to be, Xavier. Ah—”
You smiled, and then shook your head. “Sorry," you corrected. "That’s wrong. I mean
 I love you, no matter who you choose to be.”
You saw his eyes light up at that, breath hitching. Those blue, blue eyes—bluer than blue, the most beautiful shade of it that you’ve ever seen.
That was it.
That was what he needed to hear.
His lips trembled slightly, and then all you could feel were them.
He crashed against you, pinning you back against the wall just as he had done earlier, and you could feel everything. His knee between your legs, inching upwards, pressing you back with every ounce of his being as if the single, final thread of self-control had snapped.
“My star
 my angel
” 
He gasped between kisses, barely muttering out words before he would drag his lips plush against yours in a way that made you want. A way that made you need.
You moaned against him, his body melting, molding into yours.
My star.
Xavier was so unfair.
Even the nicknames you would reserve for him could be turned right back to you, snaking his way into your heart that he had, that he owned, because you had given it—everything—all to him.
And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Not when the heat of his presence wrapped enveloped you in a hazy mist of love and desire, the pull of his touch so strong that you couldn’t ever think of leaving. His fingers curled into yours, his grip straining. Bodies pressed together, the outline of his bulge grinding between your legs—his hips rutted into you with not much thought behind his movements, and your desperate pants fell into each and every kiss as if you simply couldn’t get enough. 
You couldn’t get enough.
Your mind could only fill with thoughts of him, because he’d taken that for himself as much as everything else.
“X-Xavie—mmphf—”
It didn’t take long.
Clothes discarded in barely a moment before he was hoisting you up on his waist and fucking you, your back hitting the wall with every upward thrust of his hips.
“X-Xavier!” you cried. Your eyes rolled back as he dipped his head into your neck, muffling his moans into your skin. “Xavier
 Xavier
 So good for me
 so, so good, nnh—haa—”
Every praise uttered from your lips caused his thrusts to jerk, a whine falling from his lips.
He liked it.
“Mmh
 Mh—yes— j-just like that! Ngh, you fuck me so, so well—ha-ah!”
You clawed at his back as the tip of his cock edged against your sweet spot, and you could tell with the way he choked out a laugh into your skin that you were in for it. His hips continued to snap against yours until you could barely register any coherent thought in your head. He would plunge in and out of your wet, leaking cunt with reckless abandon—you almost couldn't breathe.
“Xavier! Hnng—so good! Good boy, good—ngh—! Th-there! Please!”
You were long gone.
He could only hold you up with his sheer strength—you felt weak as you cried out endless strings of praise, obscene sounds of sex filling the room in an instant.
“My star
” He leaned back to hold you properly against the wall, grunting and panting. With his hair stuck to his forehead, droplets of sweat sliding down his skin, your eyes glazed over. “My star. My star. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine
”
With a mewl, your legs tightened around his waist, and he kissed you. Tongue, and teeth, and messy. Just as needy as earlier. Just as desperate as earlier. Your hands continued to claw at his back, fervent movements of his lips against yours in a foggy frenzy of pure want.
“Mine,” he gasped, pulling away just enough to speak. “My angel, my star—my pretty—pretty angel—my—good girl—”
His kisses, his thrusts, were punctuated with every word, driving you absolutely insane.
“Ngh—ah! Xavi—vie—Xavier—!”
You could barely get any more praise out as he easily turned the tables on you, lulling you into a headspace where all you could say was his name. His name, that, gladly, he would easily relinquish to you. A name that was yours as much as his. A name that you could call, this time, with the comfort of him being with you.
“Angel
” he groaned. “Feel'so good
 Taking me so well
”
“G-gonna cum! Xavie—Xav—haa—!”
“Good girl
 Good girl, good—girl—good—ngh—girl
!”
That was it.
One last thrust had you spasming around him, practically collapsing into his arms as he held you up, keeping you between the wall and his body as his own trembled with a release triggered by your own.
“So much
 so much
” you buried your face into his neck, and he rubbed soft, soothing circles into your back. Hot, white ropes of cum filled your insides, enough to leak out of you, trailing down your legs.
The two of you stayed still for a moment, catching your breaths. There was comfort, in being held tightly in his embrace. And it wasn’t until a while later that either of you spoke.
“...The Lumiere plushie
” he breathed, quietly. “Do we have to keep it?”
You lifted your head, shooting him an incredulous look. “You’re still upset over it?!” Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark-themed Lumiere plushie resting neatly atop of the coffee table, and you let out a huff. “Xavier, really, I promise you that I—”
You stopped.
He let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling in what you noted was not quite amusement, but
 happiness, nonetheless.
You huffed slightly, but it felt lighter knowing that he was happy.
That was all you ever wanted, after all.
His forehead pressed back against yours, and he spoke again.
“Do you mean it?” he murmured. “What you said earlier. That you love me
 No matter what?”
You smiled.
“Of course I do, silly. Isn’t that what you say to me all the time, too? What’s to make you think that I can’t say it back to you?” you gave him a playful swat, rolling your eyes. “I agree with you, you know
 I like it like this. I like being with you. I want it to stay this way, too. Because all I've ever wanted was to be with you. You, whoever you feel like being. Whether it's Lumiere, or the Xavier in front of me now. That's... what it's like to love a star. Right?"
Something flashed in his eyes, then, before he nuzzled against you in that way he so often did with you.
“...Mm. So this is what it’s like to love you."
He was whispering, and he seemed to be speaking more to himself.
But, he smiled: 
“Ah, no
 This is what it’s like to love you more.”
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an : lumiere really is the best!!! đŸ„°âœš
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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bettysupremacy · 10 months ago
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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭
I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(
you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!
thank uu
i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!
There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.
Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.
“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.
His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.
“Sirius.”
He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”
“M’hungry.”
“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.
“So hungry.”
He sighs, unsure of what to do.
“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.
He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.
“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.
He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?
“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”
“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.
The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.
You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”
It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.
“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.
You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.
“You new around here?”
An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”
He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”
“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.
“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”
“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“
“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”
“No,” the man scoffs.
“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”
He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”
“Well, conversations over now.”
“She can make her own decisions.”
“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.
“She was asking for it.”
Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.
James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.
Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.
“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”
You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”
He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”
“It’s okay, I’m okay.”
“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.
He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.
“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”
He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.
“You do.” James feeds Sirius.
“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”
“You look good.”
“Oh, now you tell me.”
You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.
“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.
“That was stupid.”
“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”
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eupheme · 3 months ago
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idk if you’re taking requests if not please feel free to ignore this, friend!! đŸ©· but
 wade inviting you over for a movie night just to stick on a horror flick, because he knows you’ll get scared and want to cuddle up against him for safety? :3c
ahh avocado, I love this! 👀💖 Wade would be such a good movie buddy, I love a good trivia fact/IMDb check and I know he would know it all. Thanks so much for sending this in! And hope you like it.
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wade wilson x reader | 350 words
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Wade thumb taps on the remote, switching back and forth between the choices. The thumbnails flicker - a black and red forest, the faces of a woman and daughter, a girl crawling out of a television.
"Your pick, peanut. What's your poison?"
He likes the way your shoulder brushes his, as you shift on the couch. The way your teeth sink into your lip as you try to choose, indecisive little squirrel that you were.
"I've seen Blair Witch," You hum, "It wasn't that scary."
Wade had stayed up all night after watching it for the first time. Weasel kept facing the corner in the bar all weekend, and he'd been ready to kill him.
"Okay, main-character-in-the-movie-Brave. What about this one?"
He flicks to another, the trailer starting to roll behind the title.
"Merida." You shrug, "And sure, sounds good."
Gotcha.
"Are you sure?" He needles, drawing the syllables out, "Scarier than Blair Witch. Might not be able to handle it."
You frown, "That's the one with the kids, right? Can't be that bad, they never get hurt in movies. They're just creepy."
Wade gives an aside glance.
A slow press of his thumb as he queues up Hereditary. Slumping down into the couch, as you follow suit.
"Well, if I get scared," He offers, "You'd better hold my hand."
“Deal.”
He doesn't miss the way you try to suppress a smile. Lips pressing together, the little glance you send his way.
This might be one of his best ideas yet.
The movie starts - the camera panning across a room, slowly zooming in on the model house.
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34 minutes in, and you're practically in his lap. A leg thrown over his thigh, your face buried against his shoulder.
"You want me to pause it, pookie?"
"No," It's muffled, "I can do it.”
A beat, before you add, "Can I just stay like this until it's over?"
He likes how you soften, as his arm wraps around you. The scene is already over, but he's absolutely going to drag this out for at least another minute.
Suck it, Trebek. And Logan.
He totally knows how to make a plan.
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thanks again!! 💖
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago
Text
Languages
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You don't want to speak your English
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In Canada, almost everyone speaks English as their first language. It's simple and easy to communicate and even those from the French-speaking provinces can speak English too.
At Chelsea, the team was from all across the world so the blend of accents and languages made it difficult to communicate sometimes.
But, Jessie's biggest challenge to date after leaving Canada, is communicating with you.
You're Magda and Pernille's little girl so you speak Swedish and Danish. You were born in Germany though so Jessie supposes you speak German too despite how little you are. Your English is practically non-existent to Jessie's ears though.
Either you can't speak it just yet or you're refusing to because the only English Jessie's heard you speak is the word 'no' when Magda tried to feed you sweetcorn at lunch a few weeks ago.
You communicate exclusively with your mothers in a different language to English despite the way Magda's pressing you to speak it.
You're sweet though, a loveable little girl with a lot of energy and a penchant for stealing footballs.
Jessie just wishes there was another way to communicate with you, especially when you wander over to her in the queue for lunch with a plate.
"Huh? What's up?"
You're look up at her with big wide eyes and smile. You say something and Jessie just stares.
"Sorry, what was that?"
You repeat the word again and present Jessie your plate.
"Oh...wow, cool plate."
Evidently, it's the wrong thing to say because you stamp your foot and repeat the word.
Jessie's still drawing a blank.
You switch what you're saying now - another word Jessie doesn't understand - and then you say something completely different again.
She still can't understand you and she can clearly see that you're getting annoyed with her.
"Er..."
"Maybe," Comes Magda's pointed voice," If you spoke your English, princesse, then Jessie will understand you."
"No!"
That's your favourite English word and Magda rolls her eyes, taking your plate.
"She wanted the chicken," Magda explains with a laugh, placing your desired meat on your plate.
"Oh. Sorry."
"Don't be. Princesse knows she should be practicing her English."
"No!" Your little voice insists and Magda looks down at you fondly, a hand coming up to stroke through your hair.
"Yes. You should be practice your English."
"No!"
"Yes."
"No!"
"Yes."
"Nej!"
Magda sighs, shaking her head softly before taking you back over to your lunch table with Jessie trailing after.
Now that Jessie's looking out for it, it becomes much more obvious to her just how often you blend your languages. She's not an expert on Swedish and Danish but she can recognise German and has to smother her laughter on many occasions when requests for food or questions are done by using at least two languages.
You jump between words easily and without even batting an eye and it seems only Pernille's the one completely fluent in Princesse speak.
You're getting better though, branching out to one or two words of English every so often when it's just you and Jessie.
You're steadfast in your refusal to speak English to Magda outside of your usual one word answer of 'no'.
Currently, it's you, Jessie and Pernille in the break room.
Everyone else has either already gone home or, like Magda, stuck in meetings or doing media. Pernille and Jessie are free to go home but Jessie's coming over after training is over and Pernille and Magda share the car so you're all waiting for Magda to finish up so you can finally go.
You're sitting on the floor with Jessie, playing around with girl-swan and girl-moose. You stop playing for a moment, frowning to yourself before calling out to Momma in a jumbled mess of Swedish, Danish and Germany, pointing to the bag of toys on Jessie's other side.
"Ask Jessie, princesse," Pernille says and you huff.
You make your request again to Pernille but she gives you a look.
"Jessie's closer," She says and you pout.
Jessie braces herself for the jumbled mess of languages about to come out of your mouth and the mad scramble to guess what you want before you get annoyed.
You open your mouth.
Jessie readies herself.
"Building blocks, please Jessie," You say," In the bag."
Jessie's mouth hangs open in shock.
You frown at her, pointing this time. "Building blocks, please."
Mutely, Jessie hands them to you and you beam.
"Going to be a castle," You tell her earnestly," And we can knock it down!"
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emssturniolo · 3 months ago
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bracelet
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pairing: christopher sturniolo x reader
summary: a bracelet catches chris’s eye while you’re out shopping, and you decide to treat him :)
a/n: the bracelet i have in mind is the pythia one, if anyone was around in late 2022 i hope this takes you back a little
despite not being public yet, you and chris had decided to go out for a date in the morning in la.
when you woke up and got ready, you said your goodbyes to nick and matt and headed off.
you had agreed on visiting one shop in particular which you both really liked, so you parked in the nearest parking spot and headed out.
you and chris were both super happy to get to spend a day with each other, and if anyone were to question why it was just you two, you’d simply answer that nick and matt had other plans.
going through the shop together, you and chris each picked out things you liked, but something in particular caught chris’s eye - it was a silver bracelet with stars that had red gems in the middle.
chris picked up the bracelet in his hand, examining it well. the look on his face was something similar to what it looked like when he talked about something he was passionate about, and you knew he really wanted it.
“you like it?” you asked with a smile.
“yeah, it’s sick!” he responded.
“get it then.”
he turned the bracelet around in his hand and found the price tag, but as soon and he read the price, he seemed to replace the expression on his face with a frown.
“it’s so expensive.” he said in a whiney tone.
you looked over his hand and read the price for yourself. $100, and though it was not expensive, he explained to you that he didn’t want to spend much money right now because he was trying to save for something else. but you saw the look on his face. he had to have that bracelet.
so once you finished looking around the shop and decided on trying on some stuff, you suggested you’d go first.
you took your time making sure the things you picked out looked good and fit you well, and asked chris on his opinion, because you knew he loved when you helped each other out with your clothing styles.
and when you were done, it was his turn to try his things on - and this was your queue - before he got in, you told him you had seen something earlier and wanted to get it, letting him know you’d be gone for a few seconds.
as soon as he left your side, you hurried over to the little table where the shining bracelet was. you picked it gently, and made you way swiftly towards the cashier to purchase the bracelet on it’s own, just so he wouldn’t suspect a thing.
once you payed for the item, you made your way back to where chris was, reciprocating what he had done to you and giving him your view on the things he tried on.
soon enough, you two had payed for your things and left the shop. on your way back to the car, bags in hand, you had reached your hand to hold chris’s. as he opened his hand for you, you grabbed the bracelet from the pocket of your pants and gently placed it in his hands.
he looked down. it took him a second to realize what he was holding, but once he did he stopped walking.
he looked at you and took a step back, then with a smile on his face asked
“whyyyyy ? you know you didn’t have to!”
you could tell he was appreciative of the gesture by the look on his face, but you also knew he loved being the one to do things for others, not the other way round.
“because
” you replied, “you deserve it. so much, my love. plus, you look really fucking cute when you blush.”
his face reddened and he looked down before looking back up, the smile on his face now so much wider. he leaned his head on your shoulder, and pulled you in for a hug before whispering a soft ‘thank you’, his words muffled against your skin.
you helped him put the bracelet on, and continued walking to the car. the rest of the day, he was super smiley and kept offering you the prettiest smiles. not that he didn’t usually, it was just that these ones spoke volumes of the appreciation and love which he has for you, silently thanking you each time.
and you knew it wasn’t going to be long before he came back to you with a gift of his own, but you didn’t mind. he was happy and content with his new piece of jewelry, and he wore it everyday since, and as long as you knew that your boy was happy, nothing else mattered.
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rafecameronssl4t · 4 months ago
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Chasing Smoke || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: canon fic based off season 2 ep 4 where Rafe and Barry visit John B's house while they were all hiding
Warnings: gun use, swearing, drinking, if theres anything else lmk
Word count: 1,423
A/n: boy do i love writing canon fics hehehehe. I’m also compiling a bunch of fics in my queue because I’m going to be busy w school so pls put in your requests!!!!!
MASTERLIST
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divider by @yoonitos
You were sipping on your fruity drink as you conversed in conversations with a few of your girlfriends, Rafe standing just a few feet away animatedly chatting with his friends. “Bro, the kick on a Glock 17, man. You load it up, line it up, and it's like—" he mimed the motion enthusiastically. Before you could warn Rafe about the guy sitting close behind him, he had already backed into him. "It knocks you off your freakin' feet."
"Hey, excuse me," the guy interjected, his expression one of clear annoyance. "Yeah?" Rafe responded, completely unfazed. "Do you mind?" The man stared at Rafe in disbelief. "I'm so sor—" you began, trying to smooth things over, but Rafe cut you off. "Hey, hey, don't apologize. Let me handle it, yeah?"
Rafe turned his head around, leaning casually on the counter. "I'm sorry?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm. The man raised an eyebrow, his irritation clear. "I said, do you mind?" he repeated, his voice growing sharper.
Rafe took a moment before replying, "Yeah, I do mind, Bob." He smirked as the man scoffed in disbelief. "Take a shot with me, pussy," Rafe challenged, his voice dripping with mockery. You slapped his shoulder, "stop it," you hissed at him.
"Come on. Take a shot," Rafe continued, his voice steady as he poured his drink onto the man's hand. The man shot up from his seat, shoving Rafe hard. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?" he yelled, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone around. Your eyes widened in alarm as heads turned.
In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Kelce rushing towards you, his expression frantic and urgent. His footsteps echoed in the dimly lit bar as he approached, weaving through the tables and chairs.
"Take a seat. That's what you need to do," Rafe commanded firmly, his voice cutting through the tension as he pushed Bob back into his seat. The atmosphere was full of unease, the murmurs of other patrons now audible as they glanced over at the commotion.
“Whoa! Whoa!" Kelce interjected, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab Rafe's shoulders, attempting to calm him down. You exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding, grateful for Kelce's intervention. "Go get the manager. He's crazy!" Bob's voice rose above the murmurs.
"Eat shit," Rafe retorted sharply, his frustration palpable as he resisted Kelce's efforts to pull him away from the conflict. Kelce persisted, trying to redirect Rafe's attention. "Hey," he began, his tone soothing yet urgent. "What?" Rafe snapped, his gaze still locked on Bob with a mixture of defiance and irritation.
"Calm down, all right?" Kelce urged, his voice steadier now, trying to reason with his friend. Rafe rolled his eyes in exasperation, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease slightly. "I swear to God, 20 minutes ago, I just saw John B and your sister, bro."
Your eyes widened in disbelief, your lips parting as your mind struggles to process Kelce's words. "You're joking, right?" you managed to utter, searching Kelce's face. "I'm not kidding! They're alive," Kelce insisted.
Rafe and you exchanged a stunned glance. "Me and my girl are just tryin' to relax, and you're telling me this bullshit?" Rafe responded, disbelief and annoyance laced in his tone.
"I know you're trying to relax, bro, but I saw them buying beer at Geechie's!" Kelce pressed on. "That's bullshit," you interjected, not believing him. "Do you guys wanna go see for yourselves?" Kelce challenged, his eyes darting between you and Rafe. "I'm telling you, I saw them. Go sober up, man." Without waiting for a response, Kelce dragged both of you towards the exit. "Hey, put it on Cameron!" Rafe called out.
~
"I need to know who's over here at John B's spot," Barry's voice cuts through the tension in the car, his grip on the gun drawing your annoyance. "Barry, could you please not hold the gun like that? Seriously, I don't even know why I'm here!" you groan from the backseat, frustration evident in your voice.
Rafe turns around from the passenger seat, fixing you with a stern look. "You're here because I told you to be, alright? So just be quiet," he grumbles, turning back to Barry.
"Listen, I don't know if he's there, okay? I just know he's on the island," Rafe says, trying to reason with Barry. "That's a complete lack of discipline, man," Barry shakes his head, irritation coloring his tone.
"Then what's your suggestion? We're about two minutes from the fuckin’ place, alright?" Rafe snaps back. "We do some recon," Barry suggests firmly. "Why don't you just follow my lead for once and shut up? all right?" he adds, frustration clear in his eyes as he looks at Rafe.
"Recon, huh?" Rafe mutters under his breath, clearly not thrilled with Barry's suggestion. "This is ridiculous," you interject from the backseat. "Yeah, Princess here agrees. Why'd you bring your girl out here with us, Rafe?" Barry questions, prompting an eye-roll from Rafe. "She's here because I told her to be, alright? Just shut up and drive," Rafe retorts, his tone edged with impatience.
~
"Tranquillo. You feel me?" Barry says to Rafe as he pulls up just a few meters from John B's house. "Tranquillo?" Rafe repeats skeptically, his gaze fixed on the house ahead. "Tranquillo, baby," Barry reassures him as you roll your eyes at the two.
"Let's be smart," Barry advises as you all exit the car. "Rafe, just to be clear, the gun is just for show, right? You're not planning on shooting anyone," you whisper urgently to Rafe as he hums in affirmation, as you exchange a look with Barry.
You follow closely behind the two men, your senses heightened as you scan the surroundings. "Okay, check it," Rafe whispers as the three of you huddle behind some bins. "All right, I ain't see shit, what 'bout you?" Barry asks quietly.
"Nothing," you add nervously, your eyes darting around anxiously. "No. They can't be far though," Rafe whispers, his voice tense with anticipation. "Right, here's what we gon' do," Barry begins, and you lean in closer to hear him clearly. "I'm gonna go inside. I'm gonna flush them out if they're in there. I want you to flank left, meet me out there by the porch."
"And princess, well, you're gonna be with Rafe, aight'? Make sure he ain't gonna do something he'll go cry about later on to us," Barry instructs, loading his gun that you were unaware he was carrying. "You have a gun too?" you whisper sharply at him as Rafe quickly covers your mouth with his hand. "'Course I do. Now, let's go!" Barry commands, rising from the cover, and Rafe pulls you along with him.
You and Rafe step cautiously into the front yard, your hand gripping his arm for reassurance. You point silently to the recently extinguished fire pit, sharing a worried glance with him. Rafe clicks his tongue in frustration, muttering under his breath, "Where the hell are you?"
~
You flinch instinctively at the sharp sound of glass shattering nearby, turning with Rafe to see Barry angrily tossing aside a few bottles. "Yo!" Rafe calls out, his voice tense with frustration as Barry storms out of the house, slamming the door open. "Anything?" Rafe asks urgently.
Barry scoffs, his expression darkening. "No, ain't shit in there, bro," he replies curtly, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. Rafe closes his eyes briefly, disappointment evident on his face. "No? Nothing?" he presses, hoping for a different answer.
"No, nothing, Rafe," Barry responds firmly. "They were obviously just here though, judging by the smoke," Rafe points out, scanning the surroundings. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Great observation, boy scout!" Barry retorts mockingly, earning an eye-roll from you as you observe the banter between the two boys.
"They can't be far, you know?" Rafe continues, his voice tinged with determination. "Smokey the bear! Look at you, bro!" Barry laughs with sarcasm. "They gotta be around here somewhere," Rafe reassures himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration, while you sigh and settle onto a nearby log.
As the tension mounts, Rafe falls silent, his gaze shifting towards a massive tree nearby. Both you and Barry follow his gaze, noticing the initials carved into the bark. "P4L," Barry reads aloud with a chuckle, and Rafe joins in, shaking his head in disbelief. He makes eye contact with you as you stand up from your spot.
"So your sister's a pogue for life, huh, Rafe? Who would've thought?" you mutter under your breath, a hint of irony in your tone, prompting a laugh from Barry. Rafe remains quiet for a few seconds, shaking his head in frustration. You immediately regret your remark as his anger visibly simmers.
"Shit!" Rafe suddenly erupts in anger, causing you to flinch back instinctively. Barry moves swiftly to place a hand on your back, his expression shifting to concern. "Rafe, chill, man," he urges calmly, sensing Rafe's escalating temper. You gulp nervously, knowing Rafe was beyond furious right now.
Without warning, Rafe starts shooting his gun wildly at the tree, bullets whizzing dangerously close to you. The loud bangs echo in the quiet surroundings, and you instinctively cover your ears, fear gripping you. "Hey! Whoa! Hey, chill, bro! Rafe!" Barry intervenes, grabbing Rafe's shoulders in an attempt to restrain him.
Your hands tremble as you yank the gun out of Rafe's grip, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "What the fuck, Rafe! You're going to get us caught, you idiot!" you yell at him, adrenaline coursing through you.
Barry looks around anxiously, realizing the precariousness of the situation. "Let's bounce, let's bounce. Let's go!" he urges urgently, starting to move away quickly. You follow suit, grabbing Rafe's arm firmly. "Hurry up!" you plead, snapping him out of his daze, and together you rush back to the car.
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