#stache buddies

[gerbiloftriumph]

i mustache you if this is a good look

[sidsthekid]

"Oh it doesn't matter to me. Any team is fine. It's the NHL, I don't think any player is ever worried about what team they get drafted to as long as they get the opportunity to play for them one day."

[1343-40]

literally insane face card like what

[kordbot]

speaking of hacker. I'm working on a new ref for him bc I changed the way I draw him a bit and I'm considering posting it this time

[gretagerwigsmuse]

can't hardly wait

Summary: in which a guy named bradley likes you back on hinge...

OR a prequel fic with the first hinge messages

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: listen i know i have a picture selected for her, i just wanted to have the ice cream comparison and went with this one. also i have all the pics on bradley's profile if you're curious 💁🏼‍♀️ he's just so goddamn cute! written for @roosterforme 's 'rocktober' event and inspired by the replacements song. don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉 [image template (x)]

Your phone lit up with a notification, buzzing in its spot on your glass desk. You glanced down at it for a moment before going back to your slide deck - until it buzzed again. It was a Hinge notification. You hadn't been particularly active on the app the last couple days, not wanting to get your hopes up yet again. But you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy. Leaning back in your desk chair, you swiped up on the notification.

Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.

You scrolled back through his profile one more time, reacquainting yourself with the 6'1" brunet. He had a picture cuddling a chunky French Bulldog, one at a Rolling Stones concert, one with an older guy who was probably his dad, and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate, in addition to his main photo. Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.

Bradley, you tested the name out.

Without further delay, you pulled up his message:

Did you only like me because I also have a picture eating ice cream on my profile? I guess that means you're not lactose intolerant?

You let out a little giggle and twirled around in your desk chair. Oh, he was sweet (and a little nerdy). No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back. Trying not to overthink it, you typed out a response:

bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid

It was cute, a little cheeky. He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.

How far do you have UVA going in MM this year?

You pursed your lips. Hmph. And went back to scrolling his profile. Ah, there it was - he'd also gone to UVA, though a couple years before you. He also drank, didn't smoke, and was vaccinated and bi. You swiped back to the chat.

Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. Just has you were about to say Elite Eight! Bradley messaged back:

Sorry, that was really lame. I’m not used to this.

You smiled. that has to be a line...

His reply was instantaneous. It's not, I promise! Alright give me one more try. How's this?

In the background, your computer pinged with multiple Teams message notifications, but your eyes remained glued to your phone.

Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?

It was such a ridiculous and silly fun fact that it made you smile. Time to put all that barstool trivia knowledge to good use.

no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...

----------

Turns out all it took was a smattering of the world's silliest fun facts to get you hooked, and after days of texting you were at the Hard Deck. The beachfront dive bar wasn't exactly your ideal first date location, but it seemed like there was a good crowd inside judging by the excessive number of the cars in the parking lot. As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. You smoothed your hands over your dress and checked your hair one final time before heading inside.

You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. The last person you’d gone out with for more than three dates had been your ex-boyfriend Jack and even that relationship fizzled after six months. 

But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date. 

God, please like me. I hope he likes me.

The bell above the door jingled as you entered, suddenly taken aback not only by the amount of people in the bar, but also the Navy paraphernalia doting seemingly every usable surface. Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?

Scooting out of the way of another group entering behind you, you bit your lip and stretched your neck, looking around the bar for Bradley. What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. The Bradley you had gotten to know over the last couple days sent you fun facts and his Wordle score. He asked about your projects at work and what you were having for dinner. He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. At the very worst, you'd hope you'd get an it's not you, it's me text from him.

But your worry was all for naught because when you got closer to the bar, you saw him. And by some sort of miracle he hadn't seen you yet, which gave you ample opportunity to ogle because you seriously needed a minute. God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked.

And he looked nervous? His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late. You squared your shoulders and cleared your throat before closing the final few steps.

"Bradley?"

He spun around on his barstool at your voice. The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.

A smile crept across his face as he said your name in turn and you nodded. Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. His voice was warm and raspy and had your insides turning into honey.

"It's nice to see you - " He gave you a full hug that was over far too soon. God he smelled so good, too. "- Here, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"

"You too." You took his hand and got on the barstool, placing your clutch on the table and glancing around the bar. "Ummm, what're you having?"

"An old fashioned - sorry," he shook himself and glanced back down at his drink sheepishly, "you just look really pretty."

You cheeks warmed under his stare and you bit your lip. If your knee nudged his underneath the bar-top then that was just an accident. "Thanks, I'll uh - I'll have a margarita?"

Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim.

And then it was just easy. Everything just fell into place. You talked about your time at UVA - he even got you to admit that you were a Tri-Delta after he admitted to being Sigma Chi philanthropy chair -your favorite restaurants and neighborhoods in San Diego, and your job, which Bradley endearingly thought was fascinating - something you wouldn't exactly agree with, but it was flattering all the same.

And it was only because of the easy conversation and banter between the two of you that you finally felt comfortable bringing up your most burning question all evening:

“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around with a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”

And then the night took a turn...

don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉

a/n: so this was just something small to tide me over before i post my next fic about thanksgiving! hope you all liked it!

[tfcaptions2]

In the heart of a vibrant college town, the sun hung low in the sky, casting its warm golden hue over the bustling streets. Laughter and youthful exuberance filled the air as students soaked in the leisurely vibes of a weekend afternoon. Amidst this lively scene walked two friends, Joseph and Mike, their carefree spirits riding the tide of youthful revelry. They were college buddies, sharing not just academic burdens but also the joys of camaraderie that made the college experience truly memorable.

On this particular afternoon, the duo found themselves separated from the rest of their friends, a result of their boisterous laughter and their inability to resist an enticing game of "truth or dare." As their friends disappeared around a corner, Joseph's mischievous grin grew wider. "Hey, Mike, I've got a dare for you," he said, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.

Mike raised an eyebrow, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "What is it?"

Joseph's grin only intensified. "See that bar over there? 'The Stache'? I dare you to go in, just for a moment. Who knows what kind of adventure might await you?"

Mike's eyes widened as he glanced at the bar Joseph pointed at. "The Stache?" he repeated, his voice tinged with uncertainty. It wasn't just any bar; it was a gay bar, a place he had never even considered entering before. His heart raced as he hesitated, his mind running through a flurry of thoughts. He was straight, after all, and stepping into such a place felt like venturing into uncharted territory.

Joseph nudged Mike playfully. "Come on, it's just a dare. What's the worst that could happen?"

Mike bit his lip, his nerves warring with his curiosity. After a moment's hesitation, he took a deep breath and nodded, his resolve firming. "Alright, fine. I'll do it."

Joseph's eyes gleamed with excitement as he slapped Mike on the back. "That's the spirit! I'll wait right here."

With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, Mike walked towards the entrance of "The Stache." As he stepped inside, the air seemed to change around him, charged with a different kind of energy. The low hum of conversations, the dim lighting that painted everything in shades of mystery—it was all so new, so unfamiliar.

The bartender shot him a knowing smile as Mike approached. "First time here?"

Mike nodded, feeling a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Yeah."

The bartender leaned in, his voice low and soothing. "Relax, honey. You're in for a treat. What can I get you?"

Mike's eyes scanned the array of colorful bottles on the shelves behind the bar. "Uh, just a beer, please."

As the bartender fetched his drink, Mike's gaze wandered, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons. Men of all types, ages, and styles filled the space, each exuding a sense of confidence that seemed to transcend societal norms. He felt both out of place and strangely drawn in by the palpable aura of acceptance that surrounded him.

As the cold beer slid into his hand, Mike took a sip, his nerves gradually giving way to a sense of intrigue. He looked around, his gaze landing on a group of men in the corner. Their laughter was infectious, their camaraderie genuine. One of them caught his eye—a man with a rugged, mature charm that exuded confidence.

The man smiled at Mike, raising an eyebrow in invitation. "You look like you could use some company," he purred, his voice a rich melody that resonated within Mike's core.

Mike's heart raced as he felt a strange pull towards this stranger. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He took another sip of his beer, trying to steady himself.

The man's companions joined in, their teasing playful yet inviting. "Come on over, handsome. We don't bite—unless you want us to."

A nervous chuckle escaped Mike's lips as he found himself moving towards them, his curiosity overpowering his initial hesitation. The group welcomed him with open arms, their laughter and warmth enveloping him. They introduced themselves—names like Max, Leo, and Chris—each with a story that seemed to reflect a tapestry of experiences.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows, something within Mike began to shift. It started subtly, like a faint tremor beneath the surface. He felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, a sensation that rippled down his spine and settled in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it, attributing it to the excitement of the moment.

Yet, as the minutes ticked by, Mike's surroundings seemed to blur, the edges of reality softened by the haze of alcohol and the company he was in. He took another sip of his beer, only to find it tasted different—richer, deeper. It was as if his senses were heightened, attuned to a different frequency.

The man named Leo leaned closer, his lips grazing Mike's ear as he whispered, "You're in for a transformation, handsome. Just go with the flow."

Mike's heart raced, his pulse quickening as those words reverberated through him. He tried to speak, but his words faltered, lost in the maelstrom of sensations that flooded his being. The room seemed to shift around him, the lights flickering as if dancing to a hidden rhythm.

And then, it began.

Mike felt a subtle constriction around his chest, as if an invisible hand tightened a leather band around him. His clothes—the casual college attire he had worn—began to change. The fabric shifted and contorted, molding itself into something entirely different. His jeans transformed into tight leather pants, hugging his legs in a way that felt both foreign and strangely alluring. A thick leather belt cinched his waist, its weight grounding him in this surreal experience.

He looked down, his heart pounding, and saw his hands covered in leather gloves, each finger encased in supple warmth. He raised his arms, noticing the leather bands that adorned his wrists, their presence both comforting and thrilling.

The man named Max chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Looks like someone's embracing the kink," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

Mike's cheeks flushed, his confusion mingling with a growing sense of arousal. He tried to protest, to demand an explanation, but his voice remained trapped within him, as if the transformation had claimed even his ability to resist.

As Mike's body underwent its gradual metamorphosis, his skin tingled with newfound sensitivity. He felt the sensation of hair sprouting across his chest, a carpet of dark fur that seemed to bloom beneath his fingertips. The texture was unfamiliar, yet strangely intoxicating, as if each strand of hair held a secret promise.

Leo's fingers traced the curve of Mike's jaw, his touch igniting sparks of sensation that danced along his nerve endings. "You're becoming something extraordinary," he murmured, his lips brushing against Mike's skin.

Mike's breath hitched as he felt his body growing older, each passing second etching the passage of time upon him. His muscles seemed to firm, his frame broadening as if sculpted by the hands of experience. His shoulders squared, his posture shifting to one of undeniable authority.

And then, as if in response to a symphony of desires, Mike felt the tickling sensation of hair sprouting at his temples, his once-youthful hairline beginning to recede. A mirror caught his eye, and as he turned to look, he saw his reflection transformed. The man staring back at him exuded an aura of rugged masculinity, a seasoned allure that went beyond the years he had lived.

But it wasn't just his appearance that had changed. Mike felt a shift deep within, a transformation of his very essence. Desires that had once lain dormant now surged to the surface, unabashed and unapologetic. He felt a hunger, an ache for the intimacy and connection that had once seemed foreign to him. His heart beat in time with the pulsating rhythms of the bar, syncing with the beat of his newfound identity.

The room seemed to pulse with a different kind of energy, an energy that resonated with his own. He gazed around, meeting the eyes of those who had become his companions, his allies in this journey of self-discovery. Their knowing smiles and encouraging nods told him that he wasn't alone—that this transformation was as much a part of him as it was a part of the world he now inhabited.

And then, in the midst of this sensory whirlwind, Mike felt it—the final flourish of his metamorphosis. A tingling sensation blossomed above his upper lip, the sensation of a mustache sprouting forth. It grew rapidly, thick and luscious, framing his lips in a way that felt as natural as his next breath. As he touched it, he marveled at the texture, at the way it seemed to embody his newfound confidence and allure.

The man he had been, the straight college guy who had hesitated at the threshold of this bar, was now a distant memory. In his place stood a middle-aged leather bear, a man of experience and desires that ran deeper than the surface. He met his own gaze in the mirror once again, and there was no trace of hesitation, no flicker of doubt. He was reborn, transformed, and fully alive in this newfound identity.

Minutes later, as Mike left "The Stache," a confident smile played upon his lips. The man who had entered only moments before had vanished entirely, replaced by this mustachioed figure who exuded a magnetic energy that drew gazes and stirred desires. He looked around, his eyes locking onto a college boy waiting on the street corner, the same corner where his transformation had begun.

Their eyes met, and the mustachioed man's lips curved into a knowing smirk. He beckoned with a single gesture, his fingers curling in invitation. The college boy's heart raced, a mixture of curiosity and excitement coursing through him. He took a step forward, crossing the threshold into a world that promised exploration, connection, and a transformation of his own.

And as the door to "The Stache" closed behind them, the world outside faded into the background, leaving only the pulsating heartbeats of desire and possibility that echoed within those walls. The story had come full circle, the transformation complete, and a new chapter of exploration was about to begin.

[rreskk]

TROUBLE CONCEIVING LUST

-A/N: I lowkey rushed cos my laptop is dying, so apologises if grammar sucks (and spelling!)

Summary: You met this guy through mutual friends and he had to be the most... Interesting... Sexy?... Unusual man, ever. Playing a "spin the bottle" game ended drastically. You couldn't help yourself, and neither could he.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 5777

NORTH YANKTON — 2002

“Who are these fine babes?”

You looked up from your empty glass of booze. A night out with some friends was almost at it’s end until one of your friends, Amanda, decided to bring along her “friend” who’s name was Michael. He mentioned 2 other guys coming, 2 faces you aren’t familiar with.

Smiling softly, you stared ahead at this middle-aged man who’s hair was blonde and slicked into a pony-tail. He was quite chubby but tall, a big lad. He was the guy who spoke first, his eyes drifting from girl to girl. There was a sense of excitement behind his gaze as Michael, the one you were briefly familiar with, spoke.

“This is Brad,” His hand signalled to the blonde guy you were just looking at before noticing a taller, much slimmer man behind them both, “And this is Trevor.”

You instantly made eye-contact with this stud. A shabby mullet, all wild and untamed. His hair was brown, a dark, chocolate brown (to be exact), and so was this stache. It was a fairly groomed moustache that really brings out his intense eyes. You couldn’t help but inspect this stranger with every detail you could find… That goes from his eyebrow scar to this gauntly, sickly grin he had. It was abnormal and different. You’ve never seen a man so rugged, scary but also striking.

You both held strong eye-contact before he was torn from your gaze and upon the rest of the group.

“How are you, Trevor?” Amanda asked with an informal tone; sounding rather disinterested, almost irritated at this guy called Trevor.

And the moment he revealed his voice, you had opened your mouth with fascination. The rawness and deep, taunting, grainy voice – it was glorious – you’d be able to sit and listen to him talk for years straight. However, a few words in, you’ve came to the conclusion that he was from the North; Canada. He had this Canadian tongue that was quite hard to miss.

“Splendid, Mandy. Don’t you have a nightshift, ay? It is a Friday.” He grinned at her, teasing.

“I took the day off.”

“Oh!” Mocked Trevor, “I thought money was an issue?”

Amanda glared at him. This guy was definitely a menace.

“Trevor leave her alone. Come introduce yourself, you too Brad. We’ve got – “ Michael had named every girl before approaching you, “ – and this is [y/n].”

“How’s it going, [y/n]?” You were surprised that he had asked you a question. His deadly eyes stared back at yours.  

“I’m fine.”

“Mm… Nice evening?”

“It’s been nice, yes.” You nodded your head.

“Michael mentioned you before,” He looked at you up and down, “Pleasure to meet you, at last.” He held out his hand and you could proper visualise his rough, veiny skin.

You proceeded to shake his hand, the contact so electrifying that you couldn’t even dare yourself to look into his eyes. It felt forbidden to feel such strong emotions for a man you just met.

“Pleasure to meet you too, Trevor.”

Trevor gave you a wink as everyone began to chat amongst themselves. He had left the conversation with intensions of annoying his buddies who were trying to decide on a “friendly, fun game” to end the night. They all took chairs and sat around the already crowded table. This guy, Bradley, was already smoking up a joint as Trevor eagerly took a hit before pouring himself some whiskey that Amanda didn’t finish. He ignored her protests and just downed it in one, throwing the bottle aside as it rolled off onto the floor.

“Jesus, Trevor! That was mine!” She complained and looked at Michael for support, but he was too busy pouring a pint of beer. 

“Chill, old girl. It was just a sip.”

“A fucking sip? You drank it all! That cost me a good few notes!”

“Woah, correct yourself, it costed Michael a good few stacks,” Trevor grinned at her, “Team effort, Mandy. Thank us.”

“Fuck you, Trevor.” You watched as Amanda refused to look in his direction.

“Maybe a few more shifts at the strip joint and you can afford the cheapest here.” He continued to torment her.

Mikey had distracted him before he could bully her too much and they all had an open discussion at the table. You ear-dropped their conversation and heard all sorts of ideas that consists of sexual imagery – most coming from Michael’s buddies – not Mikey himself.

“What’s wrong with sexy truth or dare?” Bradley seemed disappointed when his idea was turned down.

“Dude, it ain’t right. Why not a simple drinking game?”

“God… Amanda, what have you done to M? He’s a boring old prick now.”

“Shut up, Trevor. I’ve saved him from your psychotic ass!” And her backtalks were incredibly entertaining. It left you smiling giddily before Trevor caught your amusement, and he frowned. He didn’t like how you found joy in him being humiliated.

So you dropped your head and pretended to adjust your black dress, hoping to avoid any confrontation from this… Man. Somehow it made your stomach coil, not in a good way. These guys didn’t look as promising as Amanda painted them.

“I vote spin the bottle!” Brad announced.

“And what? Shots?”

“You know damn well, Mikey. How about kisses, blowjobs, handjobs?”

“Shut up, T.”

“Trevor’s right, dude.”

Michael groaned, “Shut up, Brad – Fuckin’ fine… Kisses then, but nothing else… Don’t be creepy, yeah?”

Your friends, including Amanda, seemed content with this game of spine the bottle, but you? Mixed feelings. You only just met these 2 guys and they are already demanding the group to participate in some high-school, drunk college game. You just knew that they had a rough idea to bring someone home, especially that one guy, Trevor.

Speaking of Trevor, he caught your sights again and smirked. You’ve noticed that he’s barely given any of the other girls attention. He didn’t even say hi or smiled at them – yet he seemed extremely curious about you. It felt dangerous.

“So we’ve got three chicks and three studs, yeah? Where’s a bottle we can use?” Brad inquired.

“Jesus, are you blind? Look around you, B. The table is filled with bottles.”

He responded to Trevor, “Shit man, they still have booze in them.” Both of them began looking around the table until they noticed your almost empty bottle. Bradley tilted his head and gave you a sickening grin.

“Are you gonna finish that, darl?”

You noticed Trevor wince at the pet name. He sent a glare to his friend and clenched his jaw.

“I – “ Feeling pressured, you just pushed the drink towards them, “No. You can, uh, have the rest.”

“Mmm… Thanks, babe.”

“Shut the fuck up, Bradley.” Your man of interest muttered before pouring the remainder of alcohol into a random glass.

Michael had rubbed his hands together in addition to the game beginning. He was sat beside Amanda, obviously making it known that they are two peas in a pod. It seems as they didn’t mind playing as an “unconfirmed” relationship, but you knew they wouldn’t take it as far as one kiss.

“Who’s going first?” Your other female friend asked.

It was getting late so the bar was slowly decreasing in population. Soon enough, you were the only table left behind. The jukebox was playing some late 80s rock and roll, a big throwback to the past. You listened to it through the background noise of Brad’s booming voice.

“I’ll go!”

He leaned forward and spun the bottle. Everyone watched with anticipation. You heart began beating. It was slowing and you gulped, thinking it was gonna land in you. Not wanting to kiss this man, you prayed to God. You sat tight and held your breath before it landed on Trevor.

The table began to laugh as Brad scowled with embarrassment.

“You fucking kidding me, bro?” He mumbled.

“Go on then!” Michael laughed, his arm around Mandy’s shoulder.

Trevor, unlike his friend, was smirking. He turned to face Bradley and gave him a mocking kissy face, waiting.

“T, stop it man. This is weird as fuck!”

“The longer you wait bro, the longer I’m gonna smooch the life outta ya.” He teased his buddy.  

This only made everyone laugh louder. You chuckled here and there until it all died down and Brad was left with no choice. He squeezed his eyes closed and speedily pecked Trevor’s lips. You saw it barely touched.

“Come on, man. You’re such a pussy.” T would roll his eyes.

“Shut up. Just… Carry on, goddammit!”

You were sat next to Brad, so it was your turn. Everyone looked over and gave you words of encouragement. You found the confidence to lean over the table and spin the bottle. You studied how fast it spun. Your heart was beating rapidly, you could feel your pulse breaking. It was nerve-wracking. The bottle was slowing down and it stopped. You followed it’s gaze and realised it pointed to your friend. She giggled.

Luckily it wasn’t… him.

“Ohhh…” He was the first to speak, “Mmm, I see how it is. Come on, ladies. Bring it on…”

You both ignored Trevor. Your friend adjusted her chair so she was facing you and held in a laugh. You did too. At least it was nothing awkward, more humorous. You decided to beat the clock and gave her a small kiss on the lips. She erupted in giggles, holding onto the table for support. The tension finally eased after your first go. It made you think this game wasn’t so bad.

“That was hot.” Murmured that raspy voice.

“Trevor, shut up. No creepy shit.”

“Whatever, Mikey. It’s your turn.”

Michael grumbled something you couldn’t hear and spun the bottle. He sipped his beer and waited for it to stop, and when it did, it was pointing at Bradley. The table was in hysterics.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” The blonde man was in disbelief, “I have to kiss another dude?”

“Just my luck, hm?” Mikey said to Amanda before she urged him to do it, for the games sake.

Trevor clapped his hands, oddly excited to see his two friends kiss in front of him. You’ve been observing him and the way his eyes lit up, them pupils dilating when the game proceeds. He was definitely aroused. You could tell.

“C’mon you guys!”

“Trevor, bro, just shut up!” Brad whined. He shook his head and leaned across the table, closer to Mikey who was also hesitant. They cringed before kissing for a split second and moving away from each other straight after.

You covered your mouth and chuckled.

“You are both fuckin’ pussies!” Trevor cried with distaste, “That weren’t even a fuckin’ kiss!”

Amanda rushed to her boyfriends rescue, “It’s your turn! Go!”

“Oh? You want some, Amand?” He grinned at her.

“Don’t be disgusting, Trevor.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine, my turn.”

And then your heart only grew more unbearably nerved. His red, bruised hands spun that green bottle. He was right opposite you as well so you saw that concentrated stare in his rugged face. The way he leaned down to spin, some hair strands fell in his face, giving him a really pirated look…

He bit his lip and impatiently waited until it stopped.

You felt your whole body grow paraylsed. That neck, that tip of the damn bottle was facing you. It was just your luck, your VERY luck.

“Oh?” That cat-like smirk grew more perverted, “Look who it is, [y/n]…”

Looking into Trevor’s eyes felt like a Deathwish on it’s own. He was eye-fucking you so hard, it made you shiver. Them cold, dark, brown eyes. They were unmatched, so scary, so intimidating.

“I guess it is.” You slowly spelled out.

“How come Trevor gets the hot chic – “ Bradley’s face was suddenly muffled by Trevor’s hardened hands. He didn’t even look away from you though. He kept his sights fixated on you.

“You’re a lucky girl, [y/n].”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” He murmured and stood up. His lean figure hovered over the table; his efforts to be closer. This was pressuring enough to make you meet him half-way, but when you tried, he was already pining you against your seat.

The group all watched as Trevor practically climbed over the table just to meet with you. Desperation depicted his sly grin. Them cruel fingers had wrapped themselves around your wrists, trapping you.

“You ready?” His voice purred in your ear.

“Oh my God, stop being a freak!” Amanda was disgusted. She exchanged glances with Michael who was equally as disturbed.

Trevor raised an eyebrow and gave her a side eye, “You wished Michael was this intense and romantic, Mandy. Don’t even start.”

“Excuse me? – “

“You heard me. Now shut up while I give [y/n] a kiss, yeah? That’s a great idea, ain’t it?”

Everyone was dead silent before he returned his attention to you and sighed in your neck.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Anyways, let’s continue the game, ay?” He licked his lips and stared down at yours.

His breath stunk of alcohol, weed, cigarettes, and… Weird metal? You didn’t even want to know. He was bizarre, completely out of your league! You’ve never seen a guy so unpredictable and manic. However, a part of you found it admirable. Inhaling deeply, you gave him what he wanted and kissed his lips.

For you, it lasted hours. Trevor kissed back with passion, his tongue wasting no time and forcing itself into your mouth. You thought to yourself for a brief second; it was only supposed to be a kiss? Why are you letting him passionately make out with you? Why are you enjoying it? At this point, he was properly pushing his weight onto your chair, his shoulders hiding you from everyone’s sights as his face was smashed against yours. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around them masculine shoulders and keep him close, your hands mindlessly tugging at his mullet until someone had separated you both from any further “activities.”

“Fucking Hell, T!” Michael pulled Trevor away from you, both your lips swollen and red.

“What?” He asked breathlessly, “We were just kissing?”

“Kissing? You were eating each other’s faces!”

“You wish you were me, Bradley.”

“Okay, okay, uhh! Can we just… Carry on with the game? From what I last remembered, it’s my turn.” Amanda tried her best to convert the awkward situation. She waited as Trevor walked back to his seat, a look of disappointment on his face after being separated from you.

She placed her cup down and spun the bottle. Michael was watched intently, clearly growing a bit nervous in case she had to kiss either Trev or Brad. He hoped it would be him.

“C’mon, c’mon…” He’d unconsciously hum out loud.

The bottle stopped and you bit into your tongue. It landed on you again.

Amanda chuckled softly and shrugged, “I’m thankful it’s you, [y/n], and not them two chumps.”

“Woah, watch your tongue!” Brad winked. She returned the wink. You had sensed some sort of tension between the two, and so did Michael. He looked at them both, his face growing angered.

You decided to step in and avoid any conflicts.

“Okay, I guess we have to kiss, Mandy.”

She glanced away from Bradley and nodded. You felt Trevor’s eager eyes as you two both kissed and giggled afterwards. Amanda kissed your cheek in a friendly manner before returning to the game.

You had made eye-contact with him again and he smirked. His lips were still swollen but this time, there was a predatory danger behind his pupils. He pointed to your black dress and made a sexual had gesture of a penis and pussy. Your cheeks grew red. The childish flirting actually made you flustered? What has this man done to you…

“Okay, I guess it’s my turn again.” Brad mused.

“Woah, woah – “ You interrupted, “You missed Michael. It’s his turn.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Go ahead, Brad. I don’t care.”

“Too scared to kiss me, Mikey?” Trevor pouted playfully.

“If I kissed you, I’d catch STDs.”

“Mmm… Not from what I rememb – “

“Okay, Brad go.” Michael quickly disengaged his friend from confessing something that had quickly caught your undying attention. Not from what I remember? You smelt something fishy between them two, but decided not to ask any further questions considering the game was still playing.

Bradley spun the bottle and bounced up and down in his seat. He looked hopeful this time. He was had his fingers crossed.

“Strain anymore and you’re gonna shit yourself.” Your other friend joked, earning a small laugh from Michael.

“Don’t ruin my strive, girl.” He whispered and went wide-eyed when it stopped. The person it face was revealed to be Amanda, and Michael’s amusements fell into despair.

“What?”

“It’s just a kiss, Mikey.” Brad mentioned. It wasn’t helpful at how casual he felt about kissing his friends darling.

“No, not Mandy.” He refused.

“Let her have some fun – “

“Wait… You have the hots for her?” Michael was beginning to get more enraged, “Dude, that’s my fucking girlfriend! Amanda? What the fuck is this? Trevor, bro?” He looked at Trevor with pled.

“What? I don’t know what’s fuckin’ going on.” He huskily uttered from the opposite side of the table.

“Mikey, it’s nothin’! It’s just a kiss!”

“Bradley, I swear to fuck! – “

“Michael!” Amanda held onto his shirt, “Just sit down, please! You are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? Amand, he’s a fucking chump!”

You played around with the green bottle as the game was probably ruined now. Nonetheless, you looked at the clock and decided to leave sooner than later. Whispering to the other friend, you told her about leaving soon and she agreed. The three of them were still fighting; the tension growing, so you stood up and began to collect your things.

Trevor was daydreaming until he’s noticed you stand. He tilted his head and gave you a small frown.

“Where you going, [y/n]?”

You gave him a small smile, “I’m gonna go soon and catch a taxi home.”

“Nah, nah…” He immediately stood as well and rushed over, “Don’t leave me. Can I catch the taxi with you? I ain’t driving back with these pricks.”

“Where abouts do you live?”

“Uhh… I’m renting this motel room with the boys.”

You were holding your leather jacket before he grabbed it and placed it back onto your seat. He sounded more needy now.

“Don’t leave right now. We can sit in one of those booths at the back and get some drinks on, ay?”

“I’d love to, Trevor, but – “

“C’mon… Don’t leave, not after what happened,” He gave you a knowing smirk, “I don’t like pretty girls playing with my heart. I wanna… Get to know you more.”

And you knew exactly what he meant. From the way he was staring down at your dress, it was super clear what he was referring to. You were fluttered. You shouldn’t be though, from what you saw earlier, he was a nutjob.

But he was dashingly irresistible. You studied his facial features again and reintroduced yourself with his scars and classic 70s porno stache. Then you remembered the feeling of his mullet between your fingers. He had oddly soft hair despite the balding and split-ends. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was handsome.

“You like what you see?” He caught interest in your staring.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t apologise. I like it when you look at me.” Trevor whispered and stepped closer. He sneakily outstretched an arm to fit around your waist. He ogled your figure again before tugging you closer so your chests were touching. He had to look down (due to height difference), and he smirked.

“You’re a sexy piece of work. If them cunts didn’t stop me, your dress would’ve been ripped off by now.”

God damn, is what you thought. He was extremely bold and confident. It was too attractive.

“You like that idea?” He purred against your forehead.

Suddenly, the background noise of arguing had disappeared. You were too focussed on Trevor that your whole world, right there, revolved around him.

“Mhm…” You nodded.

“Atta girl. You know, from what I can see, you’d be the hottest on top of me.”

“On top?”

“Yeah, babe. Don’t think I can’t see that fire burning from beneath your eyes. You got that power, I felt it before, I wanna feel it again.”

“Oh God…” You exhaled, your stomach burning up with arousal.

“I’m gonna be honest, [y/n], I won’t make it back at my motel…” Trevor admitted with a grin. His free hand moved to his growing bulge, groping himself.

“Can’t you now?”

“Yeah, ma’am, I can’t.” He growled in your ear.

“Oh, you’re calling me ma’am now?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

You chuckled softly, “Nothing…”

“It sounded like you were complaining.” His grip around your waist tightened as he began moving you both towards the booths.

“I weren’t complaining.”

“Good,” Trevor lets go before jumping onto the leather seats and lying down, “C’mere…” He made grabby hands, his boner visible for you to see.

You hesitantly crawled onto his lap until he grabbed your hips, helping you get comfortable. You sat inches away from his boner and smiled down at him. He seemed to be enjoying your weight.

“Are they still fighting each other?” He’d lowly ask.

To answer his question, you peeked out of the booth and saw them still at each other’s throats.

“Yes, they are.”

“Goodio…” Trevor grabbed the straps of your dress and dragged it down your arms, your chest being exposed willingly. He’d giggle like a child when you were seen without a bra. Your tits were inches away from his face and he began licking the nipples.

You held in a whimper, “Are you sure they won’t see us?”

He didn’t respond. He ripped your dress off fully and yanked you so you were practically lying on him. Your breasts, already caked in his saliva, was suffocating his face as he licked and nibbled every ounce of your skin. The warmth of his tongue made you chew your inner mouth to restrain a moan.

“I knew you had a smashing body under that dress, I could sense it.” Trevor finally murmured, moving his way up your chest to your neck. He smothered your neck with hickeys and bite marks.

“Oh God…”

“You sound perfect, ma’am,” He pressed a kiss against your jaw before unzipping his flies, “I want you. I need you, so bad.”

You straightened your back and sat on his crotch as he freed himself from those jeans he wore. The moment you saw his cock, you traced your fingertip over his tip. Length never mattered to you, so it really didn’t surprise you when he wasn’t big. Trevor didn’t seem to care either – it was attractive.

“Say yes to me.” He pled, staring through his eyebrows.

“What happens if I say yes?” You decided to tease.

His dick twitched at your taunts.

“I want you to ride me, [y/n]. Ride me – “

“Manners?”

He groaned, “Whaaaaaat?”

“Did your mother not teach your manners?”

Sensitive topic, it made him wince and pout. Trevor stayed silent. You noticed how he refused to look at you in the eye. All his confidence dropped when you mentioned his mother. He just continued eye-fucking you and caressing your breasts.

“Trevor?” You broke the silence.

“[y/n],” The way he slurred your name, “Fucking ride me. I ain’t gonna ask twice.”

“But you already asked me twice…”

“You’re starting to piss me off, sugar. Don’t fuck with me.”

“You’re asking me to fuck you.” You pointed out. While in heat, you warmed up his erected cock with your hands. Whether you were prepared, Trevor arched his back and groaned heavily. You didn’t realise how sensitive he was, especially from a handjob.

“Oh, yes… Yes, I like that,” He panted, “Keep going, keep going!”

You grinned and used this for your advantage. He was vulnerable. You pretended to stroke his cock before raising your palm and slapping the tip.

His back arched in pain, “FUCK!” Trevor roared.

You did it again; seeing the same reaction.

“Fuck, oh yeah! OH, SHIT!” He was a hot mess. Every time you slapped his length, he’d only squirm and moan like no one else was in the room. Wrong. People were in the room, but you weren’t bothered anymore. Maybe this crazed guy was more fun than you thought. If only you knew how whiney he was before the game, you wouldn’t be too nervous around him then.

“Take your top off.” You ordered softly.

“Ah… Ah, uh?” Trevor glanced up, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, “My top?”

“Yes.”

He breathed in and out heavily. You had to help him take off his leather jacket and shirt as he was left shirtless, for your taste. He had a hairy chest, quite skinny but oddly muscular. However, the beers he had that day made his stomach bloated so you were greeted with a small, hairy pouch. You trailed your finger across it, using your nail, making him whine and whimper.

“Ohhhh, you’re fuckin’ with me…”

“You wanted me to.”

Trevor glared lustfully at you, “Jesus… You’re too fuckin’ hot, [y/n].”

“Just lie back. You wanted me to ride you, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I want, I want! I want! Gimme! – “

“Shush.” You pressed a finger against his wet lips.

Trevor raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. Authority wasn’t his cup of tea, yet he seemed content to follow your commands. He scratched his stache before lying down and holding onto your hips, ready.

“I hope they see this though…” He’d cheekily oppose as you sat down onto his naked lap, his boner painfully fucking your clit.

You nibbled your bottom lip and closed your eyes. You grabbed his penis and used it to cause friction against your clit until you were both squirming against each other.

“Nah, stop… Stop fuckin’ edging me!”

“Easy… Easy…” You’d attempt to calm him. Trevor was growing breathless already. He was arching his back, grabbing the table, jerking his hips up; he was doing everything he could to resist your playfulness.

“Oh, fuck… Nah, do it, please. I won’t be able to last, [y/n].”

You took his words for granted and sat down, your crotches interacting. Once he was fully fucking your insides, volume didn’t seem like a boundary. You’d moan his name and begin to bounce.

“Oh! Yes, God, you’re so fuckin’ wet!” Trevor heaved and migrated his hands from your waist to your jiggling breasts. He squeezed them like a squish toy, making ungodly sounds, varying from grunts to outrageous gags.

“Trevor, ah!” You held onto his wrists and bounced faster.

“Ma’am, ma! – “

“Shit, fuck… Mhm…” His cock would bury itself deeper after he allowed you to dig into him. You couldn’t believe you were having sex with him, you just met him a few hours ago? Comparing his appearance from the second you met him, his mullet was draped in sweat, his dark eyes were dazed and unconscious, his stache was ruffled from the intense kissing. To cut it short, he was ruined.

And it was your fault.

“Yeah, yeah! Oh yeah!” Trevor whined, “C’mon! Give it to me! Your cunt is so fuckin’ sexy, oh yeah!”

You swore the room gotten more quiet as Trevor’s moans echoed. Nonetheless, you ignored it while riding him because the sensation was heavy. It felt like you needed to cum already. Your stomach was dominated with butterflies and Trevor’s cock was furiously twitching and pulsing.

You’d peer down at him with a honest, pleasured smile. Your tongue sat on your bottom lip until it was confirmed that you were climaxing.

“Oh fuck…”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum in your pussy!” Trevor – as per usual – was expressive. He kept you riding him as you both choked out some groans, your orgasm meeting with his. His dick loaded an impressive ton of cum inside your cunt, the spillage making you whimper his name.

“Shit, shit…” You breathed.

“More, more!”

“Oh God, okay.”

He sat up and stared at you with a perverted smirk.

“What?” You’d frown.

“Sit on my face.”

“Huh?”

Trevor used his strength and lifted you up from his lap and crawled under. You gasped when he was directly under your cum-soaked pussy. You felt his eyes stab Hell into it.

“Fuckin’ sit on me, [y/n]…” He growled, hands clasping your thighs.

The booth seats were rattling when you lowered yourself onto him. Trevor was still lying on the leather seats, forcing you to hover over his face. Of course, you used the table beside you for stability and in front of you was the whole bar. It was empty, calming your thoughts after the anxiety that more people would come by for a few beers.

“Gimme a piece of your fuckin’ cunt, ma’am.” Was the last thing Trevor muffled before stuffing his mouth into your abused pussy. His tongue, so unreally long, licked up the traces of his own semen after he had filled you up.

You squirmed and gripped onto the table. Your tits were hanging, his handprints marking red bruises all over your chest and neck (not forgetting the amount of hickeys).

“Oh, fuck…” You gulped and looked over your shoulder as you heard rubbing noises. Trevor was jacking himself off when face-fucking you. He was brutal. You watched him interrogate his poor cock like it was replaceable.

“Argh!” He muffled a cry in your cunt.

“Trevor, oh my! – “

You turned around again and went wide eyed when you noticed the group.

They were still there.

“Trevor, they are here – FUCK!” He dismissed your concerns by tongue-fucking you to death. You pathetically moaned, accidentally making eye-contact with Michael who was disturbed beyond belief.

They all grabbed their things and headed towards the exit. You watched in guilt, but at the same time, you were too aroused to care. You began to grind against Trevor’s mouth. His moustache had left rashes upon your thighs and flaps. It was burning hot, it was making you overstimulated – beautifully overstimulated. You wanted more to feel, more to cum to.

“Oh, yeah! Trevor!”

Bradley was the last to leave. Unlike the others, he smirked and gave you a wink. It was an uncomfortable gesture. He was as weird as Trevor, in that creepy way, and you knew when you finish and part ways, he’s going to get questioned about… Your “activities” that they had accidentally walked in to.

“Fuck! Oh yeah!”

You constantly looked over your shoulder to see him orgasming many times. There was a puddle of semen on his stomach. His sensitivity had made him cum when you sat on his face. He had cum when jacking off. He had cum to the thought and feeling of you. It was hard to hear him orgasm considering he was being strangled by your pussy, but in a way, you’d feel his tongue shake with anticipation.

“I- I’m gonna…” You pushed harder against him, “I’m gonna cum!”

Trevor was crawling under your skin, his tongue was torture to your poor cunt. He wasn’t gentle at all. He was beating you to a pimp until you came.

And it was a drastic, messy, unstainable orgasm.

“FUUUUCKK!” You sobbed and trembled.

He licked up the cum that drained into his mouth. He slurped, you heard this, and he slurped again, and again, and again.

“Oh… Oh, my God…”

Trevor’s tongue departed from your sex before pressing hot kisses in your inner thighs, freeing himself from between your legs. He gasped for the fresh air and stared up at you. There were drooled, white liquids oozing from his lips and chin. He grabbed your jaw and pulled your head down, kissing your lips. You tasted your own cum and moaned. Trevor passionately made love to your lips until he pulled away and ruffled up his mullet.

“You tasted like heaven on a golden platter, ma’am…” He giggled dazedly.

You followed the way he tangled up his hair and reached over, stroking it. You draped your fingers across his scalp.

“Mm…” Trevor murmured and closed his eyes, “That’s nice…”

“I like your hair.”

“Oh yeah? I like your tits.”

“Ahh…” You chuckled and felt him knead them with his bare palms again.

“And your pretty little face…”

“That was intense.”

He giggled, “Oh, you’ve seen nothin’ ye – “

“Trevor!” A loud voice interrupting your conversation. Brad was at the bar exit, his face bored, “Bro! C’mon! You finished your little fuck-fest. The fucking taxi is here, hurry up already!”

Trevor glared at Bradley as he crawled out of the booth, putting his cock away and throwing on his shirt again.

“Fuckin’ Bastard…” He whispered to no one in general before helping you zip up your dress and made you look… At least punctual when seeing the rest (who’s shamefully experienced your momentary sex).

“We were long.” You smiled.

“Yeah, but I wanted more time.”

“We will soon.”

Trevor winked and nudged you, “You bet your ass…”

You made your way out of the bar and was greeted with the uncomfortable atmosphere. Mikey was sending stares of Satan at Trevor while Amanda was biting her lips, trying to ignore what she saw.

“I’m here. Now what?” Trevor muttered grumpily.

“Excuse me, ma’am…” You went wide eyed when Brad used the term “ma’am”, almost tormenting you both, “Would you like a ride home with us?”

“Bradley, I swear to fuckin’ God, I’ll kill you.”

“I can’t believe you said ma’am during sex, bro!”

Trevor went to punch him until Michael held him back. He effortlessly held onto the collar of his jacket before the taxi finally arrived, and by then, you decided walking was safer than… A carpool with these heathens.

“You aren’t joining us?” Amanda asked, sitting in the front.

You shook your head.

“No, rephrase that… You ain’t coming?”

“Brad!” T shoved his friend into the car before crawling inside after him.

“Go say goodbye to your madam!

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You heard him scream, then he rolled down the windows and winked, “My motel room is down the main-road West… Show up any time, sugar.”

“Trevor, get your own room! We share that room!” Michael protested.

“Pussy…”

“[y/n], is Trevor’s dick small?” Brad tried to shout over the noise of the engine.

“FUCK OFF, CUNT!” Trevor battered him again.

“Jesus Christ… Get home safe, [y/n].” Mikey muttered before their taxi drove off, leaving you embarrassed, excited…

And fucking sore.

[barbiewritesstuff]

Trash Stache

-- My writer’s block has been terrible to me these last few days but I wanted to get SOMETHING out and into the world. Sorry if it’s terrible, I tried 

Tw. NSFW, eating out, gendered language and Glen Powell’s moustache 

Taglist: @mavswife @unsurebuttrying @dempy --

“Does it really look that stupid?”

You didn’t really know what to say. It was a trash stache like any other, but somehow, on Jake it made you question why it had gone out of fashion in the late twentieth century. He looked good with it, he looked fun. He looked less like the jackass he usually was. Or maybe that was due to the tan and the longer golden locks that were cascading down his forehead. He looked casual. And as much as you secretly liked how he looked in the uniform, post-holiday Hangman brought on some sinful thoughts you usually managed to keep buried down. Or maybe that was the problem. You could bury these thoughts down, and you had done so effectively that they had dropped down from your brain directly between your legs. 

“It doesn’t look bad” You said

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” He asked. 

You paused, happy he couldn’t see your smile through the phone. Jake didn’t call often, and especially not at night, but the two of you had gotten closer after the uranium plant mission. Him waking you up so late, or rather so early didn’t feel strange. You didn’t expect it to be about the moustache though.

“Jake… Why are you so bothered about the moustache anyway?”

“Can I come over?” 

“No. It’s three o’clock in the morning, you woke me up. It’s not my fault you’re feeling insecure about your pornstache, let me sleep” Is probably what you should have said but when the words fell out of your mouth, you found that they sounded suspiciously like “Yeah, sure” 

Jake was at your door in ten minutes flat. 

“I don’t think it looks dumb” He stated. You had turned on a lamp in the kitchen, drowning the room in a weak yellow light. Jake had gone out with the team for a few drinks, and apparently Rooster had spent most of the evening laughing about the trash stache. You stifled a laugh at the irony.

“Then why do you care what he thinks?”

Jake looked at you and pursed his lips. 

“This is probably TMI” He warned “I haven’t gotten laid in a while. Every girl I’ve flirted with has gone home with Rooster and I’m starting to think it’s the moustache” 

You laughed, “I think Rooster just knows how to use the trash stache better”

“Trash stache? It’s not a trash stache. Rooster has a trash stache, yes. I do not” He pointed a finger at you menacingly, you laughed again. Then, raising an eyebrow, he asked “What do you mean ‘knows how to use it better’?”

“This is definitely getting into TMI territory now” You chuckled nervously.

You hadn’t meant to bring up your history with Rooster. The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had even realised it, a fact you were starting to regret now.

“No, go on. You started the thought, you finish it”

“Fine” You pinched the base of your nose and closed your eyes “Do -- Do you eat girls out -- when… -- when, you know”

“No, why would I do that?” He scoffed. You didn’t know why you had asked. Jake hardly seemed like the kind of guy who would sleep with a girl for anything other than his own pleasure.

“Because it’s nice, Jake” 

“Look, I’m not picking up a girl just to be nice, okay -- hang on, how do you know Rooster eats girls out?!”

You stared at him for a second. When the penny fell, Hangman’s mouth opened and his eyes widened. Despite his best attempts at speaking, no sound came out. 

“It happened once -- or twice” You tried to explain. 

“Twice? You slept with Rooster twice”

“Ish…”

“Ish?!”

“He ate me out twice -- since he grew the stache”

“Wow… All this time, I thought you were in my camp, you were actually playing for Bradshaw, huh?” Jake seemed genuinely shocked for a second.

“It’s not like that” 

“Then what is it, princess? You guys fuck buddies?” He asked. His voice dropped a little lower than before, became a little more menacing, and his pupils dilated. He moved towards you with slow steps, standing tall. 

“We haven’t slept together in a while, I don’t know why it bothers you so much, I -- what are you doing?” You asked as Jake dropped down to his knees. You backed away but your body hit the cold surface of the fridge door. Hangman grabbed one of your thighs and trailed long, wet kisses down the inside. You prayed your legs wouldn’t buckle.

“I am going to show you that Rooster does not know how to use the ‘trash stache’ better.”

His fingers slipped underneath the oversized shirt you were wearing with a frown

“Is this Rooster's?” He asked, tugging at the hem. 

“An ex-boyfriend’s”

“Did he eat you out, Babygirl?” 

The nickname sent another wave of arousal to your core. 

“Jake” You sighed. He hadn’t even started anything on you, and yet the mere image of Jake Seresin kneeling in front of you, his mouth inches away from your clothed pussy was enough to make you moan. 

“You’re pathetic” He said as he looked up at you. He was right and if anyone else had spoken to you that way, you would have kicked them out faster than they could have apologised. With Jake though, you almost wished he would have applied the same bite that he had used in his voice to the inside of your thigh. 

He brought down your biker shorts and your underwear in one smooth movement and let them drop to the floor. The sight of you made him groan. Jake leaned forward to gently kiss above your slit. When you whimpered, he brought his mouth down again and sucked a hickey into your skin. Without warning, he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. You steadied yourself with the handle on the fridge, the cold plastic contrasted so well with the heat you felt where Jake was touching that it made you almost dizzy. 

Hangman was still looking up at you when he parted your lips with his tongue and licked a thin strip of your arousal. His moustache tickled against your skin in a way that only added to your arousal.

“You taste fucking magnificent” He groaned. You dropped your head back against the fridge as Jake repeated the action, slower this time, savouring the effect his torture had on you. You involuntarily bucked your hips against his chin and he tutted.

““Look at me,” he demanded. When you didn’t obey immediately, he slapped your core, sending a shockwave through your body. Your head shot forward to look at him.

“I asked you to look at me”

You hadn’t been aroused when Jake had called, and certainly not until he dropped to his knees in front of you, but when his tongue vanished inside of you for a brief moment, he resurfaced, his chin slick with your juices. 

“So fucking wet, Baby” He peppered slight kisses against your clit and you whimpered

“Such a good girl” He moaned ”Tell me what you want”

“I want you to slap me again”

Jake didn’t move

“I want you to slap me again, Daddy”

His mouth left your pussy. His warmth was almost immediately replaced with the cold sting of the spank and you moaned. With no warning other than the shuffle of the fabric of his shirt, Jake fit two fingers inside you. He buried them to the knuckle. You moaned and closed your eyes at the stretch. It felt so right and yet so wrong. The pain almost made you cry, but when he removed his fingers you pouted.

“Listen when I talk. I asked you to look at me. If I have to ask you one more time, Babygirl, I’m going to have to punish you.” 

His other hand fumbled to unbutton his trousers and free his cock. He gave himself a few strokes before shifting a little so you could see what he was doing. You mewled pathetically at the sight of his rock hard cock, a pearl of precum already shiny at the head. 

“Maybe another time, Princess” Jake winked “Shall we start?” He asked, his hot breath hitting your bud in the most delicious way. Your pleasure-addled brain barely had time to wonder what the hell he had been doing to you if this was what it felt like when he hadn’t even started. Jake’s lips captured your clit and sucked gently, allowing his tongue to graze over your sensitive bud. His fingers started moving in and out of you, taking care to curl against that sensitive spot you somehow never managed to find. 

“Did Bradshaw make you feel this good, baby?” Jake asked against your skin. You might have been annoyed that he seemed unable to keep his mouth shut if the movement didn’t make his moustache rub against your sensitive area. 

The knot in your stomach began to tighten. Underneath you, Jake was thrusting his cock into his hand at increasing speed. Suddenly, he stopped and groaned, earning you another sharp suck on your clit. 

“Did you just cum?” You managed to ask

“Shut the fuck up” He grumbled against your crotch. He flicked his tongue against your bud and you saw stars. Then, he licked you again with gentler strokes of his tongue. The feeling of his ministrations coupled with the image of Jake orgasming that was replaying in your head sent you further on your way to orgasm. 

“I think I --”

“Shit you’re so tight around my fingers”

He thrust his fingers into you a little faster, hitting your sensitive spot every time. His tongue swirled against your clit.  

“Oh Jake, just like that”

“Come on Babygirl, show Daddy how good he’s making you feel.”

“Fuck” You screamed as your core tightened around his fingers and your vision clouded with pleasure. Jake moaned into you, sending vibrations against your already oversensitive clit and your legs almost buckled. He fucked his fingers into you through your orgasm, only stopping when you moved a hand down to still his hand. 

“Did he make you cum this hard, Babygirl ?” He asked between pants, a smirk planted on his face. You could only imagine what you looked like at that moment. A fucked-out look on your face, eyes glazed over and half naked in the dim light of your kitchen. Jake laughed a little. After the way he had turned you into a pathetic, moaning mess, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smile off his face.

“You came fast” 

You looked at him. Jake had evidently been careful to cum into his underwear, as evidenced by the large wet patch on the red fabric of his boxer shorts, but as you looked, something caught your eyes. 

He stood up, shooting you a glare. 

“Look, if you’re going to make fun of me --” 

Jake stopped as you ran a finger against his leg, picking up a fat droplet of thick, white cum and licking it off of your finger

    “You missed a spot, Daddy” 

[blneobin]

10 BL boys I want carnally <3

Much much love to @ayansbff for tagging me!! I hope you know what you’re in for cause tagging me in a post to simp?? ok! I have a reason to SCREAM about these men who made me question my asexuality.

Mantrisanu - Jeng (Step by Step)

nobody but my acemate (@mooniyuta) knows just how obsessed I was with Mantrisanu during the Step by Step era. When I tell ya I forgot I was ace as soon as I saw his giant 1.90m ass on screen.. I forgot I was even a person. I am a squirrel needing to climb a tree. WOW! just WOW!! Step by Step? No! Step On Me.

Jam Rachata - Tinn/Jiu (Laws Of Attaction/To Sir With Love)

just Jam Rachata in general. He’s just a few years older than me but I will call him Daddy. When I saw him in Laws of Attraction I was intrigued then I stayed for the plot then I got hooked with their chemistry. Lucky for me I’ve never watched To Sir With Love before, so I did… and I can hear the wedding bells ringing as soon as I saw how his hunky meaty goodness handle that rusted half scissors turned murder weapon.

First Kanaphan - Alan/Sand (Moonlight Chicken/Only Friends)

I’ve been salivating for this man since Not Me. I suffered through The Shipper for this man. It’s not just his beautiful handsome gorgeous self that does it for me, its also his charm. Like he’s so charming and has this aura about him that’s just warm and homey. His smile is like the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. His eyes are just so sparkly and beautiful, if I ever meet him irl I’d probably trip over myself getting lost in them. I understand Khaotung not wanting to share him with anyone because I would do the same.

Bright - Yai (I Feel You Linger In The Air)

He’s so handsome I can cry. This man is like Jam x2. Like he has such a perfect face for male lead in romance genre. Where has he been all my life?? Maybe its Yai the character that feeds my deluluism, but when General Yai popped up in ifylita with a freakin porn stache and I wasn’t immidiately appalled, I knew I was a goner.

Neo - Boston (Only Friends)

Neo has always been cute to me. Catches my eye in every series he’s in but then Only Friends happened AND I WAS FLOORED!!! It was like ya know when you enter your teen years and that cute person you’ve grown up with had a growth spurt and you’re like daaaang when did you get hot 👀 Yeah that’s me with Neo.

Ohm Pawat - Pat (Bad Buddy)

specifically Ohm as Pat cause he was chunky and meaty and oof his arms were distracting as fuck. Anytime he showed up with that damn tank top I was like pls may I bite. He’s just so *feral animalistic growling* I personally love a man whos chunky meaty mucles and looks like they can lift me. AND HIS SMILE??? HIS TWINKLING EYED SMILE?!?!?!?! I’m gone. what a baaaabe!!!

Try imagining? alrighty if you say so 😚

Keita Machida - Kurosawa (Cherry Magic)

I remember watching cherry magic for the first time in 2020 and I was in awe. He is so dreamy and handsome. I hate to say it again guys but.. his smile!! Like I’m obsessed with him!! Both me and bestie screamed when we saw him in Alice In Borderland (overgrown blondie with roots showing and he is messy and he smokes and I was barely breathing) and then scream cried when his head EXPLODED!?!?!?!) Anyway, I’d marry this guy. like legit.

Earth Pirapat - Jim (Moonlight Chicken)

I am not done with the young dilfs. I have no other words other than !! HIM !! like I would need to make a seperate Earth appreciation post to start talking about him. This post is getting too long anyway so I’m gonna not say much here but.. just know I would drop everything for him.

Papang - Gumpa (Not Me)

my need for Papang to suffocate me in his tiddies arms is like my human need to eat to keep myself sustained. He just looks like the best recharging station. That doesn’t make sense but it makes sense.

Even going through the gif list to choose a Papang gif gave my tummy flips

Bosston Suphadach - Pruk (Between Us)

THERE’S A NEWBIE ON MY LIST WOO!!! I feel like because he hasnt been here long and has only played sub-minor parts, people forgot about him .. BUT I. DID. NOT. <3 Did you see him in between us alongside Sammy?? Yes. I too would be purposefully tripping in front of him so that he can hold me in his big strong arms. Also him and the doctor in Be My Favourite?? SIIIIICKKK!!!! Let’s just say I’m excited to watch their spinoff next year ✨

I’ve got a few more but these men are mainly the ones that I need to have. In conclusion, Big Guy, Big Arms, Big Smiles. Love them, Love Him.

thank you lovely gif makers @zhivchik @mushiemadarame @rayandgay @wanderlust-in-my-soul @kiyosuku @warmday @sunsetandthemoon @bunnakit @daikunart and lovely moots @dramalets @drama-nonsense @mooniyuta @mooninagust @these-emo-thoughts @sparklyeyedhimbo @khaotungsfirst @blue-grama @absolutebl @troubled-mind who enable this obsession.

[nyanashima]

Transmasc MC Starts T!

MC starts testosterone after leaving the Devildom, and comes back with some noticeable changes.

Operating on the assumption that MC isn't dating anyone, and on the headcanon that the brothers can sense when you're feeling their sin.

Content warnings: Asmo's a rat stache anti 💔. Just fluff though lol

The first thing these boys notice, surprisingly, is the change in your smell. Your hormones are balanced differently now, and their sensitive demon noses pick up on it instantly. You might catch Beel or Satan giving you a little sniff when they hug you.

They’re caught off-guard by the change in your voice. Yes, you’ve talked to them on the phone, but that doesn’t quite do it the same justice as hearing it in person.

The first time you speak, Asmo’s all over you— “Ooh, MC, your voice is so deep now~! We’ll have to catch up tonight so I can hear more of it ❤️”

Mammon and Levi are flustered as fuck. They liked your voice before, but now that you’re speaking more confidently, it’s game over. That, and I don’t think they’re immune to deep voices period. Satan and Lucifer are also blushing a little.

If you’re sensitive about your voice cracks, you won’t hear a peep about it. Satan, Belphie and Mammon will tease and laugh with you if you're okay with it. Levi and Lucifer find your voice cracks incredibly endearing.

Lucifer can sense your boost in self-esteem, and he notices how much more confidently you carry yourself. He couldn’t be prouder of how far you’ve come and how well you’re doing.

If Mammon was smitten before, he’s absolutely besotted now. Watching his favourite person grow into who they’re meant to be is so beautiful and- fuck, he’s crying again.

Levi’s a total sweetie. He doesn’t know anything about puberty, but if you complain, he’ll think up creative solutions to your problems. He sees it as him and his Henry embarking on a journey together; he wants to be your partner in this.

I’m sorry but Belphie can and will refer to your puberty stache as “that thing on your lip.” He says it with love though.

If you’re openly proud of it, Asmo won’t say anything, but he’ll be silently begging for you to shave it lmao

Speaking of Asmo, if you’re upset about your acne, he'll work tirelessly to recreate your skincare routine AND instill self love in you. Acne is gorgeous and nothing to be ashamed of!! He’ll help if it’s really an insecurity for you though.

Satan senses The Rage and invites you to smash plates with him. He gets it.

Beel notices your change in appetite and starts making extra snacks for you. Even if you’re not around, he’ll swing by your room to drop off some poison apples and devil peanut butter. He’d be SO happy to have you as a snacking buddy though 🥺

Belphie kidnaps gently encourages you to nap with him more. Puberty takes a lot of energy… Come on, recharge with him, just for a couple hours…

[daincrediblegg]

I’ve been seeing some complaints about Hari’s wig so I’ve decided to use my arcane knowledge of Jared Harris images to rate some looks from 1 (I’m questioning my choices) to 10 (I’ve never been more right) in order to prove the point that that wig wasn’t even the worst look he's ever had. Not even close.

1. the jaz haz of receiving psychic damage. With the exception of the moustache he is perfectly fine (honey. Listen. It just doesn’t work in this case. ily) but also him making that face specifically like he’s psyduck personified is extremely funny to me. 7/10

2. He looks like he could conceivably be in mortal kombat??? But also his fatality move would be the lamest shit ever? Babygirl you don’t fight like that. Put those things down. You’re gonna hurt yourself. Simultaneously I feel like I’ve stumbled onto the set of a very strange porno from the 70’s and I’m actually a little uncomfortable (again. Honey. You can do better with the stache thing. I’ve seen it. There are some good images with you in a mustache. It’s not this one tho I’m sorry) 5/10

3. The fuckin wig. Listen. Y’all in the hair and makeup department do wonderful things on this show. Really. I mean that. But what made us say that this is the move? Who said “young Hari, huh? I know what to do” and then made him a fucking beatle in the worst way possible (though I can’t entirely fault them- wouldn’t be the first time he’s done this). Though I suppose they didn’t want us to forget that this show is a comedy, and at least they’re aware of that. 5/10

5. … who is he? He came out of the fucking woods with the most unimaginable stank and breath of haggis. I literally am completely baffled by his presence. Perhaps a little perturbed by it. Perhaps a little turned on. Who knows. Schrodinger’s rating: either 2/10 or 6/10 depending on how desperate I am

6. Literally the ideal man. I don’t know what to tell you folks but you’re lookin at him. He looks like he just stumbled out of an elton john houseparty at 3am and is still riding out his ecstasy high and if he asked me for my firstborn child I don’t think I or any godly creature could possibly refuse him. 100000/10

7. Orenge. This one I felt merited 3 consecutive images bc the frequency of this appearance astounds me. This man like my father before him has held onto his yellow sunnies from the 90’s for far too long. There has never been a more depression image ever shot than that first one and it was really mean of the person who took this to do that, but also it’s a mood somehow. Can’t shake the combo of this with the buzz tho like thats… buddy there are better choices. I am glad you are making them now but damn. 4/10

8. Danger Will Robinson… you’ve been assigned old man at birth by production crew. Even that benjamin button cunt didn’t have it this bad. EVEN WIG BOY HARI SELDON DOESN’T HAVE IT THIS BAD!!!! I deadass want to take him home and put him in a bath and make him bathe in conditioner for a week. 1/10

9. Now look here sonny jim. You can’t do this to him. Like I’m sorry. What was the logic here, disney? You make a man look so unabashedly GORGEOUS with the long red hair and the outfit and the whole thing? Only to have him say fuck all?? You don’t deserve him. NONE of you deserve him. I want to take him to a whore house in red dead redemption and fuck him silly. I want justice for the bitches that wronged him. 9/10

[shapeshiftinterest]

Morton Helps: bowser x luigi

i love morton’s caring vibes towards junior in the video games and the headcanon that the koopalings are adopted

luigi and bowser are not dating yet; bowser’s starting to get a crush and luigi is oblivious

morton kidnaps a green man while trying to help his dad with his love life

bowuigi valentines event

prompt mix:

day 3: love rival

day 4: just friends (?)

day 6: secret admirer

story under the read more

Morton Helps (also on ao3)

Morton wasn’t book smart.

Morton wasn’t street smart either.

But he noticed things. Things like King Dad acting funny around Green Stache. Things like how he looked at the plumber the same way he used to look at Princess Peach. Things like how lately he’d been using the other’s name more often instead of a nickname.

It was because Morton noticed such things that he was currently in the dungeons, arms crossed and frowning at his wriggling hostage.

Wasn’t his fault he’d panicked! Morton just wanted to watch the green plumber and make sure he was good enough for his dad is all! It just so happened that he’d caught sight of the bean prince leaving the Mario house this time and may have, uh, forcefully invited him to Bowser’s castle.

Huffing, Morton yanked the bag off his hostage’s face and was almost blinded by the unnecessary anime sparkles if he hadn’t stolen borrowed one of Roy’s sunglasses. The koopa stomped forward and grabbed a fistful of the other prince’s tunic.

“ACK!” Only to get a mouthful of blond hair a second later. “BLEGH! PTHHBT! PPTHHBBT!!”

“Heh heh heh! Take that, you fiend!” The prisoner laughed triumphantly. He did another hairflip and whacked Morton in the face again, causing the other to let go and drop him. ”Oof!”

“NO HITTING MORTON! MORTON ONLY ONE WHO HITS!” Morton yelled, raising a fist.

“Wait!”

“HUH?”

“I am Prince Peasley of the Beanbean Kingdom, how dare you treat royalty like this, you cur!” Peasley blew a strand out of his face and sat up as regally as he could. Morton scowled.

“MORTON PRINCE TOO! NOT CURRY!”

“Really?” Peasley asked, surprised that another royal would act so... ill mannered. “Pray tell, why have you captured me then? I don’t recall meeting you before, so I don’t think I’ve done anything that would get me kidnapped.”

“s..ayw.yfr.ml..g.i.”

“I beg pardon?”

“STAY AWAY FROM LUIGI!!”

The green prince was stunned, not just from the volume but the statement as well. “And why should I?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “Luigi is my friend, I don’t think you have a say me visiting him.”

Morton stomped again, frustrated. If he had more hair he’d be pulling it out by now. Why didn’t this little sparkly man understand?

“KING DAD LIKE GREEN MARIO! YOU NO VISIT! NO ROSES, NO SPARKLING, NO NOTHING! STAY AWAY!!”

Oh. Oooooohhhh! Well this was certainly interesting. Apparently his mustachio’d friend had a secret admirer, and the violent king of the koopas no less! 

Peasley stood up and rubbed his wrists, bean dagger tucked back into its hilt as his ropes fell to the ground. He supposed Morton would have to learn to search his captives for weapons the hard way.

“WHUH-,” Morton looked to Peasley, then back to the ropes, then back to Peasley. “HEY! NO FAIR!”

“Heh heh heh.” Peasley struck a dashing pose and wagged his index finger at the other prince. “Worry not, Prince Morton! For I meant what I said.”

He flipped his hair, producing more anime sparkles. Morton sneezed. “Dear Luigi and I are merely close friends. Bosom buddies, if you will.”

“BUZZ??”

“Nevermind all that,” Peasley waved his hand at the topic. “I can’t promise I'll stop visiting Luigi but rest assured, I am no love rival. That I swear.”

Morton blinked, brain still trying to process the flowery language.

“And with that, I bid you adieu!” Suddenly, the cell wall behind the bean prince exploded and he lept backwards, landing on... a bean platform with wings?

“WAIT!” Morton yelled, grabbing his cape and almost yanking Peasley off his ride. “DON’T- DON’T TELL!”

The prince gave him a smile and tossed a golden rose at his face. “You have my word that I will keep the koopa king’s crush a secret.” It’d be more fun to watch what would happen anyway. They’d be an interesting match for sure.

Morton watched the prisoner fly away; he was still there 15 minutes later when Roy came down to take his glasses back and started freaking out about the blasted hole in the dungeon wall.

BONUS:

morton was spying on luigi and kidnaps prince peasley because he thinks they’re either dating luigi, or that luigi has a crush on the prince (that’s in the past but he still gets blushy)

peasley cut the ropes, i remember he had a sword in one of the games but he either has a dagger here or the sword can change size

peasley won’t tell anyone (including luigi or bowser) about bowser’s crush, or that morton accidentally told him BUT! he will consider flirting with luigi in front of bowser a little, just to speed things along

[musette22]

I really hope the rumours about a Goncharov remake are true, I think Sebastian would make an incredible Goncharov and Chris is literally perfect for Andrey (and return of the pornstache .. 😋) and if the original has homoerotic undertones … imagine what it would be like with those two playing them 😏

Oh my GOD nonnie, can you imagine?? Jesus, I need this in my life, how do we make this happen 😩 You're so right, they'd be PERFECT in those roles. I've only seen Goncharov (1973) once and that was a pretty long time ago (we all know I'm terrible at watching things) but if there's one thing I remember perfectly it's that it went hard on the homoerotic undertones (as it should). It was pretty hard to miss honestly lol, there's a reason we're still talking about it almost 50 years later 💁🏻‍♀️

Ok no but, the poker scene, with all that unresolved sexual tension laced with jealousy and rivalry like... can you imagine that with Chris and Seb's chemistry?? We would DIE. It would be like the bar scene all over again but like, in a smoky mafia casino setting 🥴 um, yes please. We deserve these two in a movie together again and what better than a fucking goncharov remake?? Man, that's the dream 🥺

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if Sebastian was in talks for it already? I know it's not certain yet that the remake is actually happening, but I feel like with the recent resurgence in its popularity it most likely will (come on Matteo JWHJ0715, make it happen you coward!!) And Sebastian's been quiet for a while so most likely he's got something up his sleeve, and this is exactly the type of role that would be perfect for Seb at this point in his career imo. We know he's on everybody's radar right now, plus he's got that Eastern European background which to Hollywood makes him practically Russian and Italian, so I mean... He's a perfect fit really.

Chris would probably be a slightly harder sell because of his all-American action hero reputation (although I completely agree about the pornstache!! he'd absolutely look the part as Andrey with that stache) but actually, maybe in this case his Marvel connection might work in his advantage? Because I mean, Chris and Seb have that Marvel background together, and everyone knows that Marvel was too cowardly to make Stucky happen, and everyone knows how Scorsese feels about Marvel. So assuming that he's producing the remake too, this is THE ultimate chance for Scorsese to show everyone how much better than Marvel he really is... C'mon Martin, buddy, you know you want to 👀

[zilladabasskilla]

Appearance HC for my Fic: plz read and interact with it 👉🏻👈🏻

Stan:

• Blonde/Black Mullet

• stubble with randy’s stache

• 5’9

• toned working man’s build

• pierced ears

• rings

• bruised knuckles from boxing

• blue/grayish eyes

• rounded nose, concave nose

Kyle:

• shoulder length hair

• bearded

• toned, plays basketball

• 6’2

• slender waist (ask Stan)

• glasses, occasionally

• emerald eyes

• convex nose

Cartman:

• goatee

• slicked back hair

• glasses

• heavy, but lost weight throughout the years

•5’8

• wavy, bumped nose

Kenny:

• tattooed, heavily (has a succubus “suffer” tattoo on his v-cut)

• mullet buddies with Stan

• gap tooth

• blue eyes

• piercings. Tongue and even there.

• cut/bruised arms and hands

• 5’9 1/2

• straight nose

Clyde:

• fuck boy wavy/short hair

• decent stubble

• pierced ears

• ripped, not built (basketball/sports freak)

• sometimes dark circles under eyes (slight drug problem)

• 6’0

• raised base nose, straight shape

Butters:

•shaved sides, wavy blonde hair

• clean shaven baby

• light blue eyes, scarred left from that.

• soft skin, roundish jawline

• twink body shape (slur)

• 5’7

• small, snub nose

[quartzhearted]

[ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 ] :  receiver  notices  sender  looking  at  them  longingly. (( he’s sizing you morion, do you take his challange? Spar buddy search 2 ))

Surely him? He looked strong and big enough. Hmm…Though on its own that did not indicate any real strength that beorc could possess. This he knew. After all, Altina had not the biggest nor tallest of beorc, yet her might and use of blades had been enough to match his.

Still, Dheginsea wonders if that man could really survive a proper blow from him without being inches away from death.

fresh off the tail of an axe class, morion decides to practice his axe throwing (running a few rounds with the students tends to remind him of things he's been slacking on). he's relegated to using tiny training axes instead of the hulking mass of metal that his tomahawk is, but he's training more for the accuracy anyways.

he starts from a standard distance between himself and the dummy targets---ten paces, just the bare minimum for range training. a few satisfactory tosses has him step back a few paces, then a few paces more; there comes a point where he's way too out of range for it to be reasonable, but that's not stopping him.

with a particularly good throw and an impeccable battle roar for good measure, morion throws a training axe from almost outside of the training grounds. his aim is true but his strength was excessive; as a result, the axe punctures through the dummy and continues onward until it hits the stone wall backing the targets. oops.

scratching his head, morion returns to collect his axes from various parts of the ground---some in the dirt, some in the dummy, and the recent one that cracked against the wall. this was nice and all, but it was also somewhat boring. stationary dummies were easy to hit. it would be nicer to practice against something that actually moved.

and it's when he has that thought that morion picks up on a feeling of being watched. a quick scan around the training grounds shows him an older-looking man---perhaps around his age?---watching him from a place he hadn't noticed earlier. the man has a spectacular mustache, pointed ears, and a... tattoo? certainly nothing like the people he's seen in brodia... or anywhere else, for that matter. with how stocky he looks, surely that guy has some strength to back up the style of that 'stache.

"hey, you! over there!" morion calls with a brilliant yet challenging smirk. "i see you watchin' me. why don't ya come on down and help me out with some trainin'? i think it'd do us both some good!"

[bradshawsbitch]

ghost of you | nick 'goose' bradshaw

disclaimer: so, I woke up and chose sadness, I guess. Quite literally. This little idea popped in to my head as soon as my eyelids fluttered open and I felt like I had to get it out of my system before my day started. So here I am, writing weird thoughts on a rainy Monday morning. Hope it makes some sense if anyone reads it. So, no beta - I just die alone I guess.

warnings: character death, angst (i guess?), ideations of afterlife, and goose being bradley's number one hype-man, wherever he goes. um, yeah, maybe it's the big sad. idk what this is.

characters: nick 'goose' bradshaw, bradley 'rooster' bradshaw, carole bradshaw, pete 'maverick' mitchell.

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

at the end of the world, or the last thing I see...

never coming home,

never coming home.

It was undoubtedly a strange sensation. Those last few moments, seconds that stretched in to eons of time. He could hardly remember Mavs panicked voice, could hardly remember why he was there in the first place. If only he'd chosen to become a truck driver. He did, however, take note of his last spoken word. Last thoughts, really - he wasn't sure if anyone could bare witness to his last, broken whisper of "Bradley," wasn't even sure he'd managed the whole name. It happened so fast. Death. He'd of course known there was a possibility he wouldn't make it home one of these days - and yet, whenever he flew with Mav, there was a sense of being indestructible.

Those last few moments... he wanted to cling on to them. Wanted to keep the thoughts that actually did flash before his eyes those precious moments. As adrenaline shot through his veins, the cortisol-driven, electric mess of neurons firing in his brains, could only conjure moments. Fleeting moments he had with his son. The first time he held him, and feeling Bradley squeeze his finger. God, he'd thought he was a tiny baby, but he'd been surprised by the babies strong grip on his hand. "You'll be a tough one," he'd said, offering his godess of a wife a beaming smile.

He thought of the pain he'd felt at missing his sons first steps, but how Carole assured him it had only been a tiny step and then he'd falled on his bum. It was strange how that woman could always make Goose feel as if everything was alright. He almost wished she could be by his side now.

He thought about the deep conversations he'd had with his toddler, taking his babbles in stride and answering as if Bradley had just told him how to end world hunger and make peace with all enemy countries all at once.

"No, you don't say?!" he'd act shocked, as he sat opposite his toddler, who more often than not had food smeared all across his face, a goofy little smile on his face that Goose loved. This would make Bradley laugh happily, and he'd babble some more, just to see what sort of reaction his father could offer this time.

"Nah, buddy - you're way off there. You make a valid point, but that last thing you said," Nick imitated his sons babbling before continuing "It didn't feel like you'd thought that one through," Bradley's tiny fists came down on the table as he shrieked with laughter.

"Whoa, now - don't get mad at your old man!" Nick exclaimed with a smile as he picked up his son. "Don't make me get your mother, young man - she'll end up calling you a 'silly goose', and we don't want that now do we?" It was true. Carole had called him it a thousand times, it was almost her greatest weapon.

"But we both know that they're majestic and amazing birds, don't we, little man?" Nick continued, remembering how he'd tickled his sons cheeks with his 'stache until Bradley cried with laughter.

Nick was happy that those were his last thoughts, thankful that his brain managed to ease the chaos happening around him. Lessened the sounds, and minimized the panicked feelings that strangled him. Lessened the fear of never seeing his son again. Never teaching him all the things he'd longed to teach him.

But as with all things, it had to come to an end. His eons of time were up. And he could remember a fleeting moment of agonizing pain rippling through his body before it all went still.

Now, Goose was brought up in a religious household - the cross he bore constantly on his chest giving him a semblance of calm, and of faith. He'd never really given too much thought about that whole, heaven and hell thing thought. He was still young. He thought he'd have more time to mull that one over.

But as it was, he was left, a thought that could see all. Could actually witness himself and Maverick lying in the water. That was surreal. Sometimes he could be near as could be to another person, and he'd feel so close to being real. In the beginning, he'd try so hard to be heard and felt. He'd try to hold Carole, he'd tried screaming at Pete to please not blame himself. He'd tried soothing Bradley as he struggled to sleep, as the kid struggled to find his way through the trauma of losing a parent. Nick knew a thing or two about PTSD - but he didn't know to which extent it affected children.

Bradley had periods where he'd be scared of the most mundane things, and Carole tried her best whilst wading through her own waves of debilitating grief. Nick tried to be there, whispering comforting words to his son - but he wasn't all that sure he could hear him. Sometimes, late at night though, he'd be near his son - and his non-beating heart would shatter as he heard sniffles coming from Bradley's small form. Whimpers of "dad, please come home," making him want to scream that he was there. He was.

But as time went on, Nick felt that he was needed less and less. Sure, he wasn't forgotten, but it was as if when he wasn't so sorely needed - he sort of... ceased to be. The thoughts lessened over time. When his wife joined him however, their thoughts seemed to swirl together. And then she was off - he'd bet it was her sister who needed her presence when she wasn't with him and Bradley. He usually stayed close to his son. But when he heard 'talk to me, Goose' he'd come.

He'd talk to Mav often. He wasn't all that sure he heard him, but man it seemed as if he was actually listening sometimes. Because every time Nick would project his thoughts, his essence, up in the air with Mav - more often than not he'd do as he was told. Now, that might be because Mav was an excellent pilot. But Goose also knew, that they were best together.

Seeing his son grown up, seeing his son a naval aviator - it was the proudest a... ghost, a being or a thought could ever be. He'd stay close though, keep watch over him. In his flying, Goose could see the hesitance his childhood had on him. He still had remnants of that small, nagging fear that kept him from doing. Nick didn't mind at all though, he was proud - and Bradley was alive. It was all that mattered.

A moment that had made Nick's conscience, or being, implode with happiness though, was when at last - he heard those words uttered. Bradley hadn't needed him for quite some time at that point. Hadn't talked to him before bed as he used to when he was younger.

"Talk to me, dad,"

And talk he did. Now, Bradley didn't listen quite as well as Mav did. Nick was sure if he wasn't dead already that he'd fucking die again when Bradley - Rooster - flew like a fucking maniac to save Mav's ass. And he was quite happy to see Mav shove him down in the snow. If he'd been there he would've probably laughed. Just a little.

He saw them home though. It wasn't easy, but he tried his absolute best to help with some sort of divine intervention. He gladly whispered tips to Bradley about his beloved F-14, wanting to scream at him that the button he was searching for was 'right fucking there'. Now, if it wasn't such a dire moment, he'd also want to bring up "that bag of ass,". Language, Bradley. Don't disrespect your elders.

And so it went. Carole made it just in time for the happy, albeit messy, landing. And it was as happy as two thoughts could be, there beings nothing but wisps of air swirling around. But Nick had to try again, as he had so many years earlier. He'd tried with all his might to make it physically known he was there in the beginning - especially to comfort Carole - but it never seemed to work. Now though, he was sure it would. And as Mav embraced Bradley, his being forced the sensation of a his hand gripping Bradleys shoulder. He wasn't sure it had worked until he saw a small, knowing smile flutter on his sons lips. And moments later, Bradley brought a hand up to brush his shoulder with his own hand.

Goose had never been more sure he'd ended up where he needed to be, whether that be heaven or hell.