#three people are missing until he fucking…leaves??? i guess???

[greengoblinswifey]

More than Friends- Brother’s Bsf!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you’ve always had a secret crush on Nicholas, your brother’s best friend and your childhood friend. when he invites you to his show’s premiere, long-buried feelings finally surface, and you face what’s been growing between you all these years.

warnings— friends to lovers, loss of virginity, jealous!nicholas, oral, unprotected sex(don’t let a 🥷🏿 fuck you without one) , fingering, praise kink, fluff, aftercare.

a/n— requests are open <3

You had known Nicholas Chavez for as long as you could remember. He’d been your brother’s best friend since the early days, which naturally made him a big part of your life, too. He was only three years older, but there’d always been a distinct gap, he was your older brother's cool best friend, the one you looked up to, even if you’d never admit it out loud. There was something about him, though, that always lingered in the back of your mind, a pull you couldn't quite name but always felt.

Growing up, you and Nicholas shared a special bond, separate from his friendship with your brother. You’d go out together, always managing to find matching clothes or even wearing identical rings. “Twins,” he’d joke, holding up his hand to show the ring you had given him on his birthday. It was simple and unassuming, but every time you glanced at it, there was an unspoken tension that lay just beneath the surface, neither of you daring to bring it up.

But as the years went by, things changed. Nicholas landed a role on Monsters and Grotesquerie, the TV shows that catapulted him to fame, and it wasn’t long before his life was full of red carpets and late-night shoots. He was often away, and you’d find yourself scrolling through TikTok edits of him when he was too busy to FaceTime. Everyone on social media couldn’t stop talking about how attractive he was, how lucky any girl would be to date him. A knot would twist in your stomach every time you saw those comments, jealousy mixing with a feeling you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Whenever he did have a moment to breathe, he’d reach out, sometimes posting photos of the two of you together on his stories. His fans would flock to your profile, leaving jealous comments or speculating if you were more than just childhood friends. One time, you’d posted a shot of your hand with his, each of you wearing those same rings from years ago. Fans had gone wild, and your brother hadn’t missed it, either, throwing you a suspicious glance when he’d noticed.

One day, he called you out of the blue with a proposition: he wanted you to be his plus-one for the premiere of Monsters. You’d agreed, trying to keep your excitement in check, though a part of you hoped this might finally be the moment when something would shift between you.

The night of the premiere, you could hardly believe it was happening. The cameras flashed as Nicholas introduced you to his co-stars and other industry people, and people couldn’t stop asking if the two of you were together. Each time, though, he’d shake his head with a soft laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders and saying, “Nah, she’s like my little sister. We grew up together. It’s nothing like that.”

The words cut deeper than you’d expected. It wasn’t until that moment, standing beside him under the bright lights, that you realized you were in love with him. Maybe you had been for a long time.

It hurt, watching him play it off as though your bond meant nothing more than childhood nostalgia, knowing he would never see you the way you wanted him to.

He turned to you at one point, noticing your silence. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet tonight.”

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just, taking it all in, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking like he didn’t quite believe you, but he let it go, just pulling you closer for a photo.

At the after-party, you decided to let loose a bit. Nicholas was busy mingling, so when Cooper Koch found you, you didn’t hold back. With a mischievous grin, you allowed yourself to dance, feeling free as you moved with Cooper, who, to your surprise, didn’t seem to mind the attention either. You leaned in, laughing as the music pulsed around you, and let your body fall into rhythm with his.

Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back, breaking the spell. “What the hell was that?” Nicholas’s voice was low, his eyes narrowed as he stared at you. He looked annoyed, even... jealous?

“I was just having fun, Nick. It’s a party,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly, though your heart was racing.

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you, and after a tense silence, muttered, “Whatever.” Then he ignored you for the rest of the night.

In response, you doubled down, laughing a little too loudly with Cooper and reaching for his hand as you leaned against him. You could feel Nicholas’s eyes on you now and then, but he kept his distance.

When the party finally ended, you were a bit tipsy, and walking in heels felt like a challenge. Nicholas was by your side in an instant, his arm slipping under your shoulders. "Come on," he muttered, guiding you out. The car ride back was quiet, filled with tension you could almost taste.

Once you reached his place, he carried you to the guest room, careful but intense, his gaze meeting yours with each step. He laid you down gently on the bed, eyes dark as they flicked from your face to your lips. For a moment, he lingered, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and kissed him.

The kiss was electric, and he leaned into it, his hands moving instinctively, pulling you closer. But just as quickly, he pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. Not with you. I can’t do that to your brother.”

You looked at him, a mix of hurt and defiance swirling in your eyes. Before he could say more, you slipped out of your dress, revealing the delicate lace you wore underneath. His breath hitched, and his eyes traveled over you, unable to tear away. "Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair before lowering himself back down, his lips meeting yours again, more desperate this time.

“Forget everything I said,” he whispered against your skin.

Nicholas's fingers slipped down, finding your pussy wet and eager, his touch precise as he stroked and teased you. He rubbed your clit slowly, staring into your eyes, the moment was intimate and everything you ever dreamed of. His thumb rubbed your clit as he slipped his finger inside you and you felt like the world around you ceased to exist. The pleasure built until you couldn't hold back, your body arching as he pushed you over the edge. You lay there, breathing heavily, and as he leaned back, your words broke through the haze between you.

"Nicholas, I'm a virgin," you confessed softly, your cheeks flushing as his eyes widened.

Nicholas looked down at you, visibly stunned, his voice a little rough. "Wait, you're a virgin? But, what about your exes? I thought—"

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, two boyfriends, but my brother scared them off from anything serious. And, honestly, they just weren’t, the right one." You met his gaze, your hand reaching for his. "But you are, Nicholas. I want this. I want it to be you."

He hesitated, taking in your words, the sincerity in your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek, still searching for reassurance.

You nodded, your answer clear in the warmth of your expression.

He leaned down, pressing gentle kisses along your body, his touch reverent and careful. As he moved lower, he whispered, “I want to make this good for you.” His mouth pressed against your sensitive clit, eyes never leaving yours as he tasted you slowly, purposefully, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from you until you finally came, breathless.

You reached out to his clothed cock to help him, but he shook his head, a smile curving his lips. “Tonight’s about you pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice warm and low. “This is your first time, and I want to make sure it’s perfect. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that carried a weight of its own. The two of you sat close, the low lighting casting soft shadows across his face. Nicholas had been your friend for years, practically family, and yet, right now, that familiar face held a depth you hadn’t seen before.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek, a touch he'd offered countless times in comfort or friendship, but this time, he lingered, his thumb tracing the delicate line of your cheekbone. Your breath caught, the air thickening between you. The words tumbled from his lips, barely above a whisper, as if he feared breaking the fragile tension. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart pounding, and took his hand, intertwining your fingers as if grounding yourself in the moment. “I’ve waited so long, Nick.” He swallowed, his gaze steady, the quiet weight of everything unspoken passing between you.

With a hint of humor to ease your nerves, you took in the sight of him, and your eyes widened. “That’s gonna go inside me?” you said, slightly stunned. He chuckled softly, with a smirk that was all confidence and warmth. “It’ll fit. I’ll make it fit.”

He placed your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Just say the word if it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”

Every step was deliberate, every touch gentle as he moved slowly, his focus entirely on you. He watched your face, the slightest changes in your expression, waiting for any sign of discomfort. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as your grip tightened around his fingers. Each small movement was slow, careful, his whispered reassurances grounding you.

You gasped, and he immediately stilled, eyes scanning your face. “Everything okay?” His tone was soft, a mixture of concern and patience. A shaky breath left your lips, and you nodded, steadying yourself as his gentle encouragement filled the space between you.

“I’ve always loved you, you know that, right?” you whispered, almost afraid to say the words out loud. He hovered just inches from your face, his lips brushing against yours as he replied with a smile that held years of unspoken emotions. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice soft and warm. “I think I always have too, I was just too scared to admit it.”

Nicholas stayed close, his hand finding yours as he moved slowly, stretching you and practically reaching your cervix before whispering, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes Nicholas, please, don't stop.”

He chuckled softly, eyes full of adoration as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “You're taking me so well,” he murmured, his voice warm and encouraging. “I knew you would.” His words and steady movements built you up again until you came all over his thick cock, your body clenching around him as he held you close, grounding you with gentle praise.

“That's it, beautiful, let go for me,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder and neck. When your breathing slowed, he gently flipped you onto your stomach, his touch delicate as he continued, tracing kisses along your shoulders and down your back. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you felt the tension building again, his whispered words filling you with warmth and reassurance.

With one final thrust, he groaned, spilling onto your back, then smiled, tracing his fingers along your spine. “You’ve always had the most perfect ass,” he teased, making you laugh as you both caught your breath.

Afterward, he was attentive and gentle, cleaning you up carefully, checking in with soft words and brushing stray hair out of your face. “Are you okay baby? Did I hurt you at all?”

You shook your head, a peaceful smile spreading across your face. “No. You were perfect, Nick.”

He climbed into bed beside you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close, pressing gentle kisses along your face, your nose, your eyelids, and murmuring, “You’ve always been mine. I just, didn’t know how to tell you.” His fingers traced patterns along your back as he held you, letting the night settle around you both.

In his embrace, with his whispered reassurances, you felt safe, warm, and exactly where you’d always belonged. He was finally yours.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[pshaven]

enhypen making YOU lose nnn ?

OUUUUHHHHH. this is good. i love this. ur mind needs to be studied

cw! fwb with heeseung, established relationship with jay and sunghoon, riding, oral (f & m receiving), doggy, reader gets called slutty girl, princess, jay brat tamer hehe, hoon is evil, lmk if i missed anything!

이희�� heeseung ᥫ᭡

as you’re heeseung’s number one fuck buddy… well, he’s not very ecstatic about your decision to join the nnn challenge. he thought it’d be okay at first– he has other people to attend to while you’re busy. he actually discovered something new about himself thanks to your personal challenge: he can only go a few days without you. he really did try to distract himself with other hookups but they just aren’t you! no pussy felt like yours, and no one moaned his name the same like you do. so now he has his own personal challenge: to make you lose nnn! he thinks it’d be a piece of cake, really. because have you seen him? how can you resist him?

turns out pretty well, much to his dismay. he disguises his mission as an innocent “wanna watch some movies tonight?” to come over. you, in skimpy top and flimsy shorts that you typically like to wear when staying in. he thinks– knows– he’ll have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. and you’ve always been such a good girl, so you’ll obey him this time again, right? 

it starts off with just a hand on your thigh, and even though you give him a side eye he pretends he doesn’t notice, eyes too focused on whatever movie you decided to put on. he notices when your thighs tense each time his hand inches close to your clothed cunt, and it’s so slow– you guys have probably burned through two movies already but heeseung wants to take his time, see how long you can really resist him. 

you’re doing too well, and the space in his pants is beginning to tighten up the more you tense your thighs… he swears he can feel the heat radiate off your cunt, he knows you’re wet… you just have to be! by the third movie, he’s done playing around with you and grabs the remote out of your hand, “how ‘bout i give you something else to hold?”

“knew i could get you to cave- ah, shit!” heeseung cursed, hands on your waist as you bounce up and down on his cock. you whine, nails scratching his chest to leave marks that will definitely last for days. 

“i hate you!” you squeal at one particular thrust when he bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. his eyes are focused on your entrance taking his length in, brows furrowed in concentration as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “heh, not enough or you wouldn’t be cumming on me right now.”

박종성 jay ᥫ᭡

he is such a good sport about it, honestly. he’s an amazing boyfriend, at that! he makes sure he avoids doing anything particularly sexy around you (but let’s be for real, anything he does is sexy). he encourages you and does his best to avoid any particular advances that you put on him during no nut november because he knows that once he reciprocates it, it’s over for you. so you do get a lot of no’s and don’t even think about it throughout the month… but he thinks you’ll thank him by the end of the month.

wrong. you’re extra bratty in particular today (november 27th), trying to tease him and tempt him when you rub your palm against his bulge during game night with the other members. he has a good poker face… for maybe ten minutes until he’s rock hard in his sweats underneath the blanket that you both are sharing. you’re stifling your giggles behind his back, occasionally popping in some commentary of the game so the members don’t get too suspicious on why you’re so quiet. 

old habits die hard, so how else is he supposed to act when you’re being bratty? 

“you only had three more days left, princess,” jay taunts in your ear, his hand on your back to bend you over the sink counter. you whine, but you shaking your ass tells him exactly what you wanted. “guess this slutty pussy just can’t live without me, huh?” 

you nod your head repeatedly, “mhm! can’t get enough- wan’ your cock now~” you moan when he slides down your bottoms, hand slapping your ass in the process. he’s a weak man for you, and honestly he’s been dying without your warmth around him for almost an entire month so he’s impatient as well.

jay reaches for your neck, lifting your head up towards him so that your back is arching. “could’ve just stayed a good girl and lasted the whole month,” he mutters into your shoulder as he slides himself in your tight entrance, both of you releasing a long sigh of relief.

심재윤 jake ᥫ᭡

okay… he definitely set himself up for failure when he proposed that you both do the nnn challenge together. he thought it would be soooo funny and easy! not even twenty four hours passed and he already regretted it, seeing you prance around in some cute shorts that leaves half your ass hanging out and a loose shirt that clearly shows your perky nipples. he really hates having a roommate that is as hot as you– maybe nnn wouldn’t be such a challenge then.

you’re determined to get your assignment done as you sit on the couch next to jake, typing away at your laptop while he merely scrolls through his phone, occasionally (every five seconds actually) staring at your tits through your t-shirt like he has x-ray vision. he clears his throat, mindlessly letting some random tiktok play as he begins to zone out, letting his mind think about him wrapping his lips around your pert nipples as he rubs you through your stupid excuse that you call a pair of shorts. 

“you’re hard.”  you comment after hearing the same tiktok play for over seven times. “it’s like you want to lose no nut november?” you tease before shifting your attention back to your laptop. jake clears his throat again, shifting in his seat when your words snap him out of his daze. “want to help me lose?”

“slutty girl- ah fuck- can’t say no to some dick, yeah?” jake muses as you choke down on his cock, saliva dripping out from the corner of your lips. you moan around him, your hand around his length tightening a bit at his words that causes him to curse underneath his breath. 

you go particularly deep, a small reward for him when his fingers inside you speed up. he has you on all fours on the couch, his long arm reaching your cunt as he scissors his fingers inside of you. if he’s going to lose, he’ll lose with you. “f-fuck, you’re so good ‘n so wet for me, huh?” he taunts, your juices squelching from his fingers and sloppy mouth working on his cock.

“oh, you cummin’ already? roomie… didn’t know you were this sensitive. so cute,” he hums, slowing his fingers down as he works you through your orgasm. but he’s talking as if he isn’t five seconds away from cumming down your throat.

박성훈 sunghoon ᥫ᭡

he thinks it’s cute you want to do the nnn challenge! but he also thinks it’s cute that you think you can resist him for an entire month. the exact opposite of jay– he makes it his personal mission to make you lose. he’s such a bad boyfriend, making you exceptionally horny, especially the first night after you tell him about your little goal to accomplish this challenge. he’s playing with you in bed, the hands on your waist not so discreetly creeping up to your chest. you have to physically detach his hands away from you so you don’t start acting up. 

the next morning is even worse– he’s stepping out of the shower and into your shared bedroom with only a towel that is barely hanging on his waistline. your mouth goes dry, your attention completely stolen away from your phone and onto sunghoon. “you sick bastard,” you curse under your breath, but it doesn’t go unheard by your sneaky boyfriend. “you could just… i dunno, lose right now,” he mumbles, going over to you as he nuzzles your neck. you’re doing much better than he thought when you push him away with a stern and determined look on your face. 

but in the end, he’s always right. and you give in like a child who’s offered some more playtime if they complete their homework. but he really didn’t expect you to give in when he’s doing something so basic, cooking dinner for you when you come back late from uni or work. but it gives him an ego boost either way. 

“can’t believe you got turned on from me cooking,” he snickers as he lifts his head up from in between your thighs. you roll your eyes, your grip on his hair tightening as you pull him back into your cunt. “i-it was the domestic-ness of it, okay? just shut up and make me lose already,” you pout. 

he groans, sliding his fingers inside of you with ease, thanks to his own work. “you already did… approximately one minute ago. but i guess i can make you lose twice,” he grins before he latches his mouth onto your sensitive bud.

[thelostconsultant]

Little bows

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando is obsessed with his teammate, and one night he has the chance to show her how good he would be for her.

warnings: No smut (I didn't feel like writing it, maybe later), but there are parts that are heavily sexual, I guess. MDNI. Also, dark!Lando, something is definitely wrong in his head.

note: based on this song.

Lando fucking loved that pair of underwear you were wearing tonight, that's why he bought them for you in Tokyo when he stopped there after the Japanese GP earlier this year. Lacy black piece of fabric with cute little bows attached to it, straight from that place you had once mentioned to your personal trainer before you traveled to Japan.

He wondered if you knew it was a gift from him. He didn't give it to you in person, he didn't even leave a note, he just left it in your driver's room and hoped you wouldn't throw it away. After all, who was he to buy you underwear? He was your teammate, nothing more.

But he saw it peek out as you sat down tonight in the restaurant where you were celebrating with the team, and god, wasn't it the best thing that happened to him since winning in Miami! All he could think about was taking your panties between his teeth and pulling them down your leg, then later stuffing them into your mouth to muffle your loud moans while he worked on pulling several orgasms out of you.

“Lando, what's your vote? You've been suspiciously silent,” you spoke up, your sweet voice making him grin like a maniac. But when he remained silent thanks to having no idea what you were talking about, you put a hand on his arm and laughed. “If you can't even focus on a conversation, I guess you don't want to visit that club with us after this.”

Oh, to miss the chance to get you drunk? No way in hell. “I'm always down for a party, you should know that by now.”

Three hours later he was sitting in the club with you in his lap, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place. Your arm was wrapped around his shoulder, and you were nursing your fifth drink that left you drunk already. No one seemed to mind since he was looking out for you, so he kept listening to your drunken speech, smiling at the way you struggled to remember details of the story you were telling him.

If he stopped you now, you wouldn't get blackout drunk, but at least you would be probably a little more willing to play a game with him. He tightened his fingers on your hip to get your attention, and he expected you to give him a warm smile with a questioning look in your eyes.

But that's not what happened. You handed your drink to someone who was standing nearby then leaned closer to capture his lips in a kiss, one you deepened quickly. Lando took it as an invitation and let his other hand roam your thighs, strictly moving above your dress when he reached it. Those panties were for his eyes only, there was no need to show everyone what you wore under your dress.

“Wanna sleep in my hotel room?” you whispered in his ear before gently biting his earlobe. “I can feel how much you want me.”

You moved your hips to tease him, making him suck in a deep breath between his teeth. “You know I'm gonna ruin you the moment I have the chance, right?” he asked as he kissed your jawline.

You giggled, then suddenly decided to get out of his hold. He didn't want to let go at first, but then you told him you couldn't wait to be thoroughly fucked by him, and who was he to say no to you? You wanted this, and he'd been waiting for a chance with you for so long now.

As the two of you were sitting in the back of a taxi, he tried to keep his hands to himself, and whenever you moved closer to kiss him, he warned you to wait until you were somewhere private. It was killing him, if he wasn't someone so many people knew, he would have done indecent things with you on the way to the hotel, but he couldn't risk ending up on gossip sites.

After the doors of your hotel room closed, he slowly got you out of your dress, then stopped to admire the sight in front of him. That lingerie set looked phenomenal on you, but no matter how much he loved it, it had to go in the end. He needed to live out his dirtiest fantasies, which needed you to be soaking wet by the time he dragged his panties off you.

And dear god, you were so ready for him that it took a lot of effort not to just pull the fabric aside and bury himself into your tight cunt. He reminded himself that he could take his time with you. He wanted to take his time with you. If he played the game right, you would be begging him to fuck you again, because you would definitely remember this night even when you were sober.

Then you'd beg again.

And again.

And again.

And he would be generous enough to give you what you wanted.

[arc-misadventures]

MFK Coco: Jaune, Joan and RK Jaune

MFK : CO III

Yang: H-Hey, Coco...

Coco: Yang.

Yang: So uhh... you up for a game of, MFK?

Coco: That depends... Who are my 'choices' this time?

Yang: You'll like them! You'll like them this time I swear!

Coco: Will I?

Yang: I swear! Please don't hit me again...!

Coco: Alright, show me who my choices are?

Yang: O-Okay! First off we have, Jaune!

Jaune: Hey, Coco! Sorry you have to do this again.

Coco: Well at least it has the only guy I'm willing to fuck.

Jaune: Oh...

Coco: Who's next?

Yang: Next we have, Jaune's twin sister...

Coco: Wait, you have a twin sister?

Jaune: Yep. I'm the older twin by the way.

Coco: How come you never mentioned that you had a twin sister?

Jaune: Never came up in conversation.

Coco: ...

Coco: Fair enough. Continue, Yang.

Yang: As I was saying: Jaune's twin sister, Jeanne Arc!

Jeanne: Ohhh~! So this is the, Coco girl you've been talking about, Jaune. Mmmh~! Love the outfit, it flaunts your body off perfectly~!

Coco: You're one to say, your outfit look exceptional! I love how it shows off your bodies full curves~! And, I must say, 'Boing Boing~!'

Jeanne: Thank you my dear~!

Yang: And last, but not least. The man of myth, and legend, The Rusted Knight, Jaune Arc!

Coco: The Rusted Knight? F-From the book?

Yang: Yep, that Rusted Knight.

Coco: How the hell did that happen?

Jaune: Ohh boy... You better sit down, this is going to take a while...

~~~

A while later.

~~~

Jaune: So yeah... that's what happened.

Coco: ...

Coco: THE FUCK?!

Jaune: Yeah, that's how most people react... So anyway, this is the older me as the, Rusted Knight.

RK Jaune: Hello, Coco. You're looking just as beautiful as the last time I laid eyes upon you.

Coco: ...?!

Coco: Fuck...!

Yang: So, Coco: Of these three who will you, Marry, Fuck, and Kill~?

Coco: Fuck...

Coco: Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...!

Jaune: Coco? You okay?

Coco: Ahem! I'm fine, I'm fine as hell, Bunny Boy~! So... I kill young, Jaune.

Jaune: Saw that coming.

Jeanne: It was a given since he is here.

Coco: I'm sorry, I...

Jaune: I take no offence, Coco, please continue.

Coco: Okay. I'd fuck, Jeanne.

Jeanne: Oh~? Are you perhaps interested in these?

Coco: Ye...

Jeanne: My titties? My massive badonkers~! My massive milk jugs~! My...?!

Coco: YES! A hundred percent yes! I want to play with your juicy thic body! And do all sorts of things with that voluptuous body of yours~!

Jeanne: Naww... But, I wanted to say the whole line...

Jaune: Told you, you wouldn't get the time to say the whole thing.

Jeanne: Meh, oh well; a lesbian should know how to please a woman~!

Coco: You know it darling~!

Coco: Last but not least; I marry, Rusted Knight Jaune!

RK Jaune: Of course. Let me guess: Upon seeing me you suddenly developed a taste for silver foxes, and because of my age you also realized that the number one thing you are missing in your life is a daddy to bend you over his knee, and give your rear end a good tanning. You want to be folded over as you are dumped full of his seed until you're a drooling mess. Leaving her looking like a happy, lust drunk mess, looking like she's three months pregnant with their child to be. Am I wrong?

Coco: I wasn't thinking about half of those things, but I want those things to happen to me! Please knock me up, Daddy~!

RK Jaune: Hmmm... I think that can be arranged~!

Coco: Fuck yes!

JJY: ...

Jaune: Why am I ever brought here for these when he's here? I always end up dead.

Yang: Can you blame us? I mean... Hello, Daddy~!

Jeanne: Who wouldn't like a, Daddy like him~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: You know I will look like him eventually, right?

Jeanne: ...

Yang: ...

Yang: Wanna get married, Jaune?

Coco: Back off bitch! The original, Jaune is MINE!

Yang: Bring it you whore!

JJRKJ: ...

Jaune: Aren't you going to join them?

Jeanne: Naww, I will join the winner in seducing you.

Jaune: Oh...

RK Jaune: Did you expect anything else?

Jaune: No... But, I can dream can't I?

Jeanne: Not with your luck.

Jaune: Damn.

[emlovessid]

@into-the-jeggyverse for the bingo prompt hide and seek, 665 words bingo masterpost

Dating your best friend's brother is great. Until you break up.

Because unlike other break ups, where you never have to see them again, there's no escaping them when they're – you guessed it – your best friend's brother. You see them at birthdays and pub trivia and Christmas.

And dinner on a random Thursday evening in October.

Dinner itself had been fine, James sitting next to Remus and Regulus sitting next to Sirius, Teddy a delightful and welcome buffer between them all.

"Alright, Teddy. Count to ten and then you come find us, okay?" Sirius says, ruffling his hair.

Covering his eyes with his small hands, Teddy begins to count, "One, two, three…" and they all scatter.

James makes a beeline straight for the hallway closet where Sirius and Remus keep their coats and umbrellas. He's just gotten settled, sitting down cross-legged in the space, when the closet door opens and Jesus Christ—

"Oh, shit. Sorry," Regulus says, eyes looking everywhere but at James.

He steps back and is seemingly about the close the door again when they hear Teddy shout from the kitchen, "Ready or not, here I come!"

Their eyes are both wide as they meet, before Regulus makes a split second decision and steps into the closet beside James and closing the door on them both.

James isn't sure whether he wants to laugh or cry. Maybe both.

It's one thing to be amicable with your ex from a distance, when there's other people around and you don't actually have to interact with them beyond a polite hello and goodbye. But it's a completely different scenario to be sitting in an enclosed space with your ex, your side pressing up against a body you still know like the back of your hand, even though you have no right to.

"Sorry," Regulus says eventually, his voice quiet. "I heard Ted and I panicked."

Chuckling, he says, "Can you imagine the horror? Losing hide and seek to a four year old."

"Oh, piss off," he laughs.

And just like that the tension between them breaks, the air around them feeling less heavy. It almost feels like they're them again.

"This feels like old times, eh? You and me, both in the closet," James says and immediately regrets it, cringeing at his own joke.

"Wow, that was bad, even for you."

"I know. Please forget I said anything," he groans.

"Gladly."

They're quiet again for a moment, Teddy's voice distant as it travels from the other end of the house.

"It does kind of feel like old times though, you cooking tonight. God, I've missed your carbonara," James says with a wistful sigh.

He's not expecting Regulus to respond with, "I miss you folding my laundry. I've never been able to get the t-shirts right."

He should leave it at that, but his mouth is already moving and the words are tumbling out, "I miss your shampoo, it always smelled better than mine." This is where he should really, really stop talking, but the words just won't stop, rolling off his tongue before his brain has even registered what he's about to say. "I miss how you'd bite my lip when we made out. The noises you'd make while I was fucking y—"

He's cut off by lips on his, a warm weight in his lap as Regulus throws a leg over him to straddle his waist. James doesn't waste any time reciprocating, hands settling on Regulus' hips as he licks into his mouth. The moan he lets out as Regulus bites down on his bottom lip is obscene, all thoughts of the game of hide and seek they're actively playing wiped from his mind as his hands slide down to grip Regulus' arse through his jeans.

And then the closet door opens.

Teddy is giggling as he shouts, "Found you!"

But Teddy's excitement is overshadowed by his dads standing behind him; Remus laughing and Sirius shaking his head as he mutters, "I fucking knew it!"

[spectr3inl0ve]

Age gap Bruce Wayne and reader going to their first gala together and a bunch of Bruce’s “friends” talk about reader in a very misogynistic way, talking about how lucky Bruce is to be dating someone younger, and Bruce defends reader telling them that she’s more than that

- 🦪 anon

ooh the person u are 🦪 anon 💗💗(im soso sorry for the inconsistency of 2nd and 3rd person in my posts, idk y I do it 😭😭)

so, obviously you're both nervous to go the gala together, you more so than him. getting pát the paparazzi at the front isn't actually that bad when you're not stopping to answer questions or pose for front covers.

cradle robber!bruce wayne leads you to his so called friends, the people that he had to stay in good terms with for business and status. you're introduced to three men, george, scooter and fernando (not real dc characters btw). "hi there, little lady." scooter, a middle aged man with the face of a tomato says, smiling sideways at you. you want to grimace, but smile back, "hi, nice to meet you.". you extend a hand to him, and shake his pudgy, red hand. george shakes your hand too, grinning at you, a few gold teeth flashing in the light. fernando just smiles and nods at you, "he doesn't do handshakes." bruce says helpfully in your ear, thank god.

while bruce and his three associates catch up, you busy yourself with going to get drinks for you and bruce. when you turn away from them to find the bar, you swear you heard a whistle. when you come back, you hand bruce his drink and sip your own, "aren't you a little too young for that? shouldn't you be doing you homework, little miss?" George chortles, and the others laugh along with him. you smile politely, "and shouldn't you be looking for a retirement home, george?". bruce chuckles, patting you on the back. "aren't you a delight, bet mr playboy here loves it." George says good-naturedly. you drown out most of the conversation, thankful that they didn't really try to include them. you caught a few words here and there, but nothing worth paying attention too.

that is until you hear a rather misogynistic comment, "I guess you could retire alfred, now that you've got her. at her age she could do all the house work in half a day!" your eyes snap towards scooters, glaring. before you say anything, bruce cuts in, "alfred is fully capable, and [reader] will not be doing such a thing.". "you know, bruce. the one thing I regret is not bagging a young thing like her before I got old. take advantage of it, while she's all smooth and pretty." my jaw drops, and the three men laugh. "that mouth could definitely be used for something." fernando smirks. as quick as a whip, bruces lands a punch across fernandos cheek, and my hands come up to my mouth. people around us gasp, watching us. "dont fucking talk to her like that, you shit piece of scum," he says lowly, in a menacing tone. scooter and George are staring at bruce, wide eyed as he turns on them, "and she's worth way more than what you have tried to reduce her to. now leave before I put you in early retirement.". both scooter and George turn on their heel, rushing away before anything else happens.

bruce turn to you, a hand cupping your face, "you alright? im sorry about those assholes, they shouldn't have said that shit." you look up at him, nodding, "thank you, but next time let me deal with them.". bruce downs the rest of his drink, "wanna get outta here?", giggling, you reply, "yeah, lets go."

if you can't tell I'm not great at dialogue 💔💔

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 3)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latin Reader

Blurb: Jake is determined to find out what happened to you but as soon as he pulls your file up, everything is redacted. He turns to Rooster and Bob of all people to find out more. You get back to your apartment and find that your ex has trashed the place. one thing leads to another and you find yourself agreeing to live with Hangman until it's safe to go back home.

Contents: nothing too bad, some swearing, kinda fluff,

Word count: 2,096

Previously: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Jake is in the middle of taking a sip of his beer and laughing with Rooster and the rest of the guys when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He knew it had to be one of the four women he occasionally hit up at this time for late-night sex. Now, which one was this? He twists around to see your pretty smile looking up at him. 

“Y/N?” He asks over the loud music and chatter of Hard Deck. 

“What? Is this such a surprise?” You ask sweetly. Before he can answer, your arms are wrapped around him and you’re kissing him passionately. 

Bolting upright in bed, Jake looks at the clock on his nightstand. 

8:15 AM. 

“What the fuck?” He mutters to himself. What a way to wake up. When he lays back down, he feels someone place their arm on his chest. He turns to his left to see a busty blonde fast asleep beside him. 

I don’t even remember bringing her home. What was her name?

He sighs before getting out of bed and walking into his bathroom. He looks in the mirror to see red lipstick marks all over his neck and chest leading down to his dick. 

Must’ve been a wild Friday night. 

He sighs and turns on the shower to wash everything off. A good thirty minutes into scrubbing his body, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. 

“Jake?” He hears what’s-her-name call. 

“Hey,” he says, opening the door to his bathroom a bit. “Go back to sleep, I’m just going for a run.”

“After you showered?” She asks. 

“Had to wash off the lipstick,” Jake shrugs. “Anyway, stay… or don’t. Your choice.”

“I think I’ll leave,” she says, getting out of bed and walking toward the pile of clothes in the corner. 

“Okay, see you around…” Jake trails off. 

“Bethany.”

“Right, Bethany.”

Jake doesn’t wait for her to say more. He walks to his closet and grabs some shorts and a t-shirt, pulling them on, and then saluting her playfully when he walks out of the room. 

When she leaves, Jake grabs his phone and searches for Phoenix’s text message. 

Jake: How’s Y/N?

Phoenix: She’s fine. 

Jake: That’s all I get?

Phoenix: Why do you want to know?

That’s a good question, why did he want to know? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything. He had no right to ask how you’re doing. But, he did help you in some way. 

Jake: Just asking. Being chivalrous, I guess. 

Phoenix: Hmm. 

Jake closes out the messages app and sighs to himself. Still thinking about you, he decides to go to the Top Gun archives and do some research. Rooster told him something happened to you while you were missing, but he only half believed him. No reason to fully trust a dude with the call sign “Rooster”. 

Even if he was his friend.

Walking into the archives, Jake goes straight to the section from between two to three years back, searching for your call sign. An hour into looking into the file boxes, he finally finds the document he needs. He pulls out the file and opens it, giddiness flaring through his body when he sees your non-smiling picture of your profile. 

Scanning it, Jake reads:

Name: Y/L/N, Y/N

Call sign: Bullseye

Mission Location: [REDACTED]

Mission Purpose: Bullseye is to [REDACTED] at [REDACTED]. 

Now what the actual fuck? 

Reading down the page, everything is blacked out, except your name and call sign. When he reaches the “outcome” portion of the file, it’s all blacked out. What surprises him is the fact that it’s five pages long and again, all blacked out except your name and call sign. When he reaches “Status”, it says “Honorably Discharged/Full Sponsorship”.

Pulling his phone out, Jake calls Bradley and nearly snorts when Bradley answers, “Yello?”

“Hey I have a question,” he starts.

“Okay?”

“It’s about Y/N.”

“Oh.”

Taking a deep breath, Jake asks, “What happened after she was found?”

“Um,” Rooster hesitates. “She was found bloodied and bruised and then they brought her to the hospital on post.”

“How long before she was declared 100% for discharge? From the Navy I mean,” Jake asks, putting your file on the table before him and pulling out an empty sheet of paper to take notes. 

“I think about two months?” Bradley tells him. “It was really weird because, at lest from what she’s told me, they still pay her.”

“Yeah, the VA pays her.”

“No, I mean, the Navy still pays her. Like she’s still in.”

Jake stops writing and blinks. “What do you mean?”

“She told me a few months ago that they were still paying her damages or something like that. I guess it has to do with whatever happened while she was missing,” Bradley tells him. “We really shouldn’t be talking about this on the phone. Go to Hard Deck tonight, we’ll talk more then.”

“Thanks, Bradley.”

“Did you just thank me?” Bradley snorts.

“Fuck off.” Jake chuckles.

When they hang up, Jake is left to wonder: Why are you still getting paid by the Navy? Did it have to do with whatver it was that happened while you were missing? And if so, what the actual fuck happened to make the Navy pay you off?

Later that night, Jake is sitting in a booth in the back of Hard Deck sipping on a beer and waiting for Rooster to show up. Jake is in the middle of reading something on his phone when Rooster finally sits across from him, Bob in tow.

“Sorry, Bob here found out where I was going and… I think you might want to hear what he knows,” Rooster says.

Jake looks at Bob, expanctantly. 

“So you already know that Y/N’s been getting paid by the Navy,” Bob starts. When Jake nods, he adds, “Well, this is a ‘pay-off’ situation. I’m talking, they want to keep her silent about what happened.”

“Why?” Jake asks.

Bob glances at Rooster, who nods in encouragement. “They knew her jet was gonna go down.”

*   *   *

You knew Nick was an asshole, but you didn’t think he’d stupid enough to trash your apartment. Especially with the multiple cameras you had installed after the first time he hit you. 

You had just gotten to your apartment with Phoenix and as soon as you opened the door, you knew it was going to be a long evening. Furniture was toppled over in your living room, couch cushions were ripped open (probably with a knife), and dishes were broken all over your floor. 

“Oh my god,” Phoenix says from behind you. “What a fucking child.”

You only looked around in sadness. It took you months to find all of the things in your house because most of the things were vintage or second hand. You suck in a breath and rush to your room and into your closet to find the book of things from your parents. You didn’t even need to look deep enough because there it was, laying on the carpeted closet floor. 

Everything was ruined. 

Your parents had passed away six years ago and left you with a box of pictures from your youth as well as other family heirlooms. One of which was your mother’s engagement ring.

Quicklky falling to your knees, you begin to comb through the contents of the box, all soaked from the water Nick split inside it. 

“Please be in here. Please,” you whisper to yourself. 

“Y/N?” Phoenix questions. 

The ring was gone.

Anger rings in your ears, slivering down your spine and making you shake. How could he do this? What a fucking dickhead.

“He fucking stole my Mom’s ring,” you angrily tell Phoneix when she enters your room.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“Tomorrow I have to go to the pawn shops and look for it. Maybe he was stupid enough to do that,” you say to yourself. Then to her, “I cannot believe he would do that. What kind of a person steals someone’s dead Mom’s ring?”

“Someone who’s so insecure that they have to hurt vulnerable people,” she tells you. “Let’s call Bradshaw, he’ll help us clear some of this stuff out.”

When Rooster arrives, he has Bob and Jake with him. As they walk into your apartment, anger flickers on their faces. You see Jake mutter something tp the effect of “I’ll fucking kill him” and shake his head. You have to fight not to let your heart melt a bit. Why does that make your heart warm?

“Y/n, you should stay somewhere else for a bit,” Bob tells you. “What if he tries to come back tonight?

“You can stay with me,” Jake says making everyone turn to him. 

“Why the fuck would she stay with you?” Phoenix asks, crossing her arms. 

“Because I can protect her. And he won’t know where she is, assuming he didn’t follow you home last night,” he says. 

“I can protect her too, you know.”

“Phoenix, I know you’re strong, but that guy was a whole head taller than you. Besides, it’ll allow me to get to know Y/N.” He winks in your direction and you instinctively want to smile but force it down.

“This is ridiculous,” Phoenix says. “She should be with someone she’s comfortable with and who she knows. She doesn’t know you at all.”

“Again, it’ll allow me to get to know her.”

“You’re quiet,” Bob says, nudging you a bit.

“Maybe I should go with Bagman here,” You start. When they give you looks of surprise, you add, “Nick followed us home last night. I saw his car in the bushes behind your house last night after you went to bed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nat asks you.

“I didn’t want you to worry. I was gonna tell you tonight if he was there again.” You turn to Jake who’s watching you like a hawk. “I’ll go with you, under one condition.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

Jake smiles before winking at you and replying, “I have a spare bedroom you can stay in.”

“So it’s settled, Y/N stays with Seresin until we get her apartment safe and cleaned,” Rooster announces. 

“I guess,” Nat says, arms crossing over her chest. 

“Go pack a bag and we’ll start cleaning some of this up,” Rooster tells you.

You obey, glad that Nick wasn’t smart enough to mess with your clothes. You grab a large duffel bag and start stuffing as much clothes as you can fit into it, walking into your bathroom and packing your toiletries. When you enter your room again, you find Jake looking in the box of photos your parents left you.

“What’re you doing?” you ask.

“Sorry, I just saw the top photo and was curious,” he tells you. He looks up at you form the where he’s kneeling and softens his eyes. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” you spit. “Just so you know, you’re not allowed to snoop or ask me things.”

“What makes you think I want to?” he asks, standing at his full height. He practically towers over you but you’re not scared. Just opposite actually, you feel weirdly safe.

“The look you gave me the first time you met me and knew my call sign.” 

Jake steps closer to you, almost touching your chest to his body. “Is it because you don’t know me?”

“No, it’s because I don’t trust you.”

“But you trust me enough to live with me for a bit?” Jake smiles cockily, green eyes lighting up in amusement.

Your breathing slows, realizing just how close he is to you. He smells delicious, manly and sweet at the same time. Addicting as fuck. When she lowers his head to whisper in you rear, you have to fight the urge to sniff him. 

“It’s okay, I know I’m addicting,” he whispers, lips brushing rhe shell of your ear.

You’re about to move your head to face Jake when you hear Rooster ask, “You ready?”

You pull away from a now smiling Jake and nod. Rooster looks between the two of you before smirking and motioning you to follow him with a jerk of his head. You do only stopping in the doorway and telling Jake, “Don’t fall for me and don’t deny you aren’t because I feel it. Trust me, you don’t want to be with me.”

Next part

tags: @akilatwt @russopalette

[galaxyedging]

College Max Phillips x f!reader. Friends to enemies to lovers.

WC:2.3k

Max is the ideal roommate until he isn't.

Warnings: Smut. Male and female masturbation. P in V sex. Dub con if you really squint. Overstimulation.

Roommate Agreement

“Max Fucking Phillips!” The roar leaves you as soon as you slam the door.

It echoes through the stylish yet modest off-campus apartment you can afford now that you have a roommate. An apartment that you will sorely miss when you can't afford it because you've murdered your roommate.

“If you're going to summon me like that, at least use my correct full name, Maxwell Fuckington-Phillips.” A head of over gelled hair comes around the corner to narrowly miss being hit by one of your shoes. “The third.”

“Don't! Just don't! Did you tell my date that I have baby fever and I'm just in college to earn my MRS?” Your tone is even and calm despite you wanting to rip Max's head off. He'll get what's coming to him, first you want confirmation.

“I was joking with the guy. You know, like when you told my date I was a STD ridden man whore.” He shrugs sliding onto the sofa.

“I told you that I didn't know she was your date. I know her from one of my classes. Plus, I wasn't joking. I saved her a course of medication and probably months of therapy from the serious regret she would have the next morning.” Your dig didn't even phase Max. 

The endless to and fro of barbs had started about three months after Max moved in. Before that the two of you were practically inseparable. Max had tutored you for a few months. To break up the monotony of studying, you would go grab something to eat and idly chat. For some reason, even though you were very different people, you got on well. When your friend pulled out of renting the apartment the day you needed to sign the lease, Max was the first person you offered it to. He took one look at the place and signed on the spot. The owner was an older lady who was just happy to have someone living above her store. The people who rented that from her commuted from the suburbs, leaving the whole building empty at night. Perfect for a couple of college kids. Until you realised that you couldn't stand each other.

“So what? You're just going to punish me?” You huff at him.

“Hey, if I don't get laid, why should you?” There was an undercurrent of genuine annoyance in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know if you know this….but women talk. My dick is blacklisted.” He looked sorry for himself at his admission.

It only takes about two seconds for the laughter you were trying so hard to keep in bursts out. “I'm sorry. It's just funny.”

“I'm glad I've found some way to amuse you rather than you being an uptight bitch to me.” 

“I meant the blacklisted dick part was funny. Not the situation, asshole. So is that why you're ruining my dates? You're jealous that someone else might get some? Fuck you, Max.”

“Maybe that would solve the problem. You caused this dry spell. Maybe you should moisten it.”

Trying hard not to gag at the imagery or the word moisten, all you can think to do is flip him off while you find your words.

“Oh, so you're the other kind of jealous. Not of me, of the guys I might bring home? Do you want me that bad Max?” Your pout at him leaning over in your date night dress so he can see right down the front of it and your lack of a bra.

“Please, if I wanted you. I would have had you months ago.” Max tells your cleavage.

“Yeah, right. My eyes are up here.” Walking deeper into the apartment, you head for your room. “Since my date didn't go well, I'm getting my best toy out. Her name is Jessica. I usually wait until you are out but I guess you'll just have to wear earplugs to bed.”

“You have fun with Jessica, try not to think about me too much.” Max bites at your heels as he catches up and brushes past you down the short corridor to his own bedroom.

Jessica glistens in the low candle light, fully covered in lube and ready to go. Even the scented candles and relaxing oils hadn't loosen you up enough to be able to give Jessica the welcome she deserves. 

‘Fuck. Who does he think he is?’ Trying your best to calm your thoughts you undo your robe and let it fall from your body. Licking your fingertips, you idly trace one of your nipples until it reacts under your touch. The other one gets the same treatment before you take the full breast in each hand and knead them gently. Eventually you feel the pull of your pussy needing your attention. As soon as you reach your folds, you find that Jessica might be up to bat sooner than you thought. Now that you're looser, your pussy is practically dripping. As you slick up your clit and begin to circle it, you tell yourself your arousal has nothing to do with Max. Nothing to do with the thought of him being all pent up and how easily he would come apart underneath you. Nothing to do with the thought of taking his pretty cock in your mouth. And it was pretty. You accidentally walked in on him getting out of the shower and may have dragged your feet, just a little, getting out of there. There is no denying that Max is hot but he is still such an asshole. Fresh anger flares in you as Jessica nestles deep inside you. The first button you tap brings her head to life rotating inside you. The second makes her ears twitch against your clit. Usually you would let the woman work and build you to a steady, satisfying climax. Tonight was different, gripping the base of her, you angle her where you need her and begin to pump her in and out, hard. With your free hand gripping the metal bed frame above your head the whole thing begins to squeak with your movements. There is not one single fuck to be spared for Max as your moans sound out just as loudly. It barely takes any time at all for you to reach the edge. Going over it a litany of curses spill from your lips. Laying there, head thick from your high time seems irrelevant until you need to pee and have to gingerly remove faithful Jessica from being tightly gripped inside your body. After you get the two of you cleaned up, you slip back into bed. Sleep tugs at you until you hear the rhythmic thud of a headboard against a wall.

Max already had a chub on at the sight of you poured into that dress but once he got a good view of the swell of your tits and a peek of your nipples, he was fully hard. He did intend to jerk off quickly, so he could just get to sleep and forget your fight. Then he heard it, the distinct low buzz of a vibrator. Fuck. He thought about your teasing your cunt until you came writhing and twitching on the cheap substitute for his dick. He listened as he raided his bedside drawer for some toys of his own. He filled his sleeve with some lube and pumped his long, thin dildo inside of it ensuring they were both covered. His pillows became makeshift pillowy thighs as he placed his cock sleeve between them in the middle of his bed. His cock twitched with interest as your moans grew louder. His own utterances of fuck and shit as he sheathed he cock were hidden under yours as you came. Max had to take a moment to squeeze his cock so he didn't blow his load there and then. When he felt the need pass he spread his legs to push his own dildo between his asscheeks into his greedy hole. He lays flat to catch his sleeved cock between his body and the bed. While his hips work back and forth he keeps the dildo still so he's either fucking or being fucked with each thrust. He doesn't give a shit if his moans sound pitiful. They are. He's so pent up and this feels so good. The sounds of your enjoyment still free in his ears and the sight of your tits still on his eyelids is the icing on the cake. He pants, moans and whines his way to his peek as he jack rabbits into the mattress. 

“Oh! God!” he moans when his eyes roll back in his head and his balls empty into the toy. 

He's so loud, he doesn't hear the door open or your footsteps on the floor. He only realises you're there when the bed dips next to him. In his blissed out state he doesn't care that he's laying completely naked with a dildo sticking out of his ass. He cares a little more when you nudge it further into him.

Whatever Max says is lost in his pillow. 

“Don't say a fucking thing. Don't spoil it, just shut up.” You make it clear that the last thing you want to hear is his voice. Unless it's whining in pleasure.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grins stupidly.

“What did I say?!”

“Don't be so grumpy.” He teases. “Are you going to play with my ass or what?”

You answer by pressing the tip right up to his prostate and rolling it up and down over the gland. 

“Fuck. Stop. I can't…” Max pants.

“Oh, poor baby. Are you over-stimulated?” You tease right back working the toy harder.

“Fuck. I'm serious. I…” his annoying complaints are cut off by your lips. 

As Max's lips melt into the kiss, the rest of his body tenses. His head snaps away from yours to bite down on his pillow as he comes again.

“‘uck me!” Is all he can grit out until he releases the thick material. “Fuck. That was…fuck. How did you…? Come on.” Max's earlier bonelessness dissipates as he drags you toward him while turning over and simultaneously removing the toy from his twice spent cock. 

“Come on. Sit on my face. Suffocate me with your cunt until I'm hard again then you can show me how to do that.” Half of that shouted from between your legs.

“Max! I…oh!” You almost squeal as his hot muscle goes straight for your hole. His tongue swirls through your release while he drinks it down like some crazed mythological creature who feeds on bodily fluids. He only pauses to beg you to blow him. Which you oblige to since the sight of his cock getting hard just from eating you out makes you eager to bounce on it. He grows bigger and thicker in your mouth while you do your best to suck in-between moans. Max has moved to sucking on your clit now the sudden intrusion of two thick fingers has you coming on them. 

Max might be a loser in the personality department but he's definitely a winner in refractory period stakes. His cock is rigid again in an impressively short amount of time. Swinging your leg back over his head you shuffle down the bed ready to straddle his hips and eagerly ride his cock.

“I want to be on top.” Max complains.

“Tough.”

His length drags against the heat of your core as he tries to buck you off. “Max!” You half moan, half chide. “No!”

It's Max's turn to moan when you trap his cock between your wet core and his body. He can't help but grind against you a little.

“This is getting us nowhere.” You huff. “Speak for yourself.” Max sighs, gripping your hips to slide you on his length.

“Max! Come on. Guess we could compromise. Doggy?” You supply.

“Fuck, yes.” Max ungraciously bucks you off of him to scramble behind you while you get on all fours.

Just as you get your balance, Max slides home in one fluid motion. For the first time in a long time the two of you seem to be in agreement. Both letting out sighs of contentment. Max starts to thrust and you stay firm to meet every one. It's rough and nasty, and everything you both need. The sounds of skin slapping and fluids gushing fills the room. The two of you moan, grunt and swear like vulgar animals. Sweat covers both of you from the effort of trying to out fuck the other. In the end the two of you climax in perfect sync. Max doesn't ask before finishing inside of you. His cum fills you deeply as he works you both to draw out your highs. 

“Looks like we found something we can agree on.” Max pants sprawling out over the bed.

Shoving past him to go pee you add “Yeah. Plus you are like seventy five percent less annoying during sex.”

“Wow. You keep flattering me like that and I'll think you're sweet on me.” Max called after you.

For a moment in the post coital haze, you think back to when things between you were good. At one point, you really did like Max. He was good company. Smart. Even sweet on occasion. He’s handsome, driven, great in bed. Entering the bathroom and not even stopping to flip on the light or close the door you move on muscle memory while the urge to pee gets stronger. You lower yourself down to the toilet….and almost fall in because the toilet seat is up. “Maxwell Fuckington Phillips…the third!”

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 19

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

Dewey looked at the boy with pity. Billy's right hand was wrapped in a white cast. He had spent an hour in the hospital setting his broken hand back in place. It was way worse than getting stabbed according to him. The officers on duty all thought the boy was hilarious. The makeup paired with the outfit he was a walking joke. Dewey only made matters worse. His coworkers almost died laughing watching the deputy sign his name on Billy's cast.

"I hear Batman is getting released," Todd said leaning on Dewey's desk. "Yes, Billy is being released I already called someone to pick him up." The deputy left his seat on his way to talk to the inmate.

"Stu said he's on his way," Dewey said taking a seat outside of the holding cell. Billy hadn't spoken much. The few times he did it was to give his statement on what happened or ask if you were okay. He didn't care about anything else. Billy was too busy planning on killing the fucker that laid his hands on you. "Did he say how Y/n was doing?" The boy's gaze stayed glued to the moldy ceiling. "No, just that he'd be on his way to pick you up. I told him about your hand." Billy looked at the deputy with a scoff. "That's great."

"What did you think he's going to miss that when he shows up to get you?" Billy had begged the doctor just to set his hand and leave it be. Turns out they can't do that. Now he was stuck with a heavy cast with Dewey's name on it. He didn't even agree to that the deputy just grabbed a marker and did it.

"I know seeing that mask set you off. That and what happened to Y/n. Look, you're not in any trouble. If Daniel decides to press charges the county won't prosecute you. It'd be a waste of time. You were protecting her and after all that's happened you don't need to worry about this." Dewey's change of heart confused Billy. Every time he's run into the officer he's been met with nothing but disdain and hostility. Now Dewey wants to act like his friend. "What happened to you? You hated me just days ago." Billy sat up on the bench making eye contact with the man.

Dewey realized what you said that day in the office was true. The three of you needed to look out for each other. At the end of the day, he felt bad for all of you. The ghost of the massacre would follow the survivors for as long as they lived. They were just kids. No one deserved what happened to them that night. Dewey hated himself for living through it and he was sure the three of you felt similarly. Survivor's guilt they call it. He read a book about it.

He pulled off his hat sitting it neatly on his lap. "It's been 26 days since I lost Tatum... Even less since the funeral. I can still hear her sometimes." His eyes focused on his shoes as he talked. "I couldn't save her. For a while I blamed Stu. How could her boyfriend who loves her let that happen? I know that Neil was the one who took her but I guess I needed someone else to blame." Dewey leaned forward looking up at Billy through the bars.

"I care about Y/n like I know you do. I treated you and Stu poorly because I saw what happened to the people you loved. That was messed up, I get that now and I'm sorry. I don't want her to go through what my sister did. You did a damn good job of taking care of her tonight."

Billy sat in silence. He didn't feel bad about what he did to Tatum. Neither did he feel bad about what he did to Sydney. It was necessary to move on with his life to start over. He felt It was fair considering what the Prescott family took from him. Maureen's choices shouldn't have fucked up his whole life but they did. Billy just leveled the playing field.

Listening to Dewey's sob story almost made the boy sick to his stomach. He didn't feel bad about what he did rather he felt horrible that he didn't care. Dewey wasn't his friend or his brother, he shouldn't care about his feelings. Yet here he was feeling sorry for the officer. "I can't lose her," Billy spoke in something akin to a whisper. His voice was broken almost as much as his hand.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders. You won't. After the stunt you pulled tonight I'd say she's in good hands." Dewey did think it was odd that Billy was able to move on so quickly from Sydney. He guessed that the boy was trying to fill the hole that abruptly appeared. Dewey couldn't blame him. He was doing the same thing. Where did that leave you though? After all of this, he didn't want you to get more hurt than you already had been. "You think so?" Billy asked loving the idea of protecting you. What he did at the party felt good. Feeling that fuckers bones crack beneath his hand was exhilarating. Of course, he wished he didn't have to do it. He hated the fact he let it happen. The details of your attack were lost on Billy. All he saw was the masked boy pining you to the wall as his hands pulled at your dress.

"I do. Just maybe take it easy for a while?" Dewey smiled lighting up the conversation. "I'll try." Billy nodded. "Deputy, Can I speak to you for a moment?" Another officer called Dewey away leaving Billy alone in the cell.

Billy looked down at his cast trying not to pick at it. He didn't like having it on. It was a nuisance to put it lightly. The doctor told him he'd have to wear it for at least six weeks. Frankly, he didn't think he could make it that long mainly because of the name written in black ink on the cast. "Billy?" Dewey spoke walking into the room. His keys jangled as he opened up the cell door. "Stu's here to pick you up."

Once all the paperwork was done and signed Billy was finally allowed to leave the county jail. "Oh, she's going to kill you," Billy said looking at your car in the parking lot. Stu was upset. Billy hadn't said one word to him. Not a "thank you," "glad to see ya," "go fuck yourself," nothing. "Me? What about you?" Stu spat getting into the driver's seat.

"What about me? I saved her from that creep." Billy thought he was your knight in shining armor. You kept him fed and he kept you safe. After all, that's what you wanted right?

"You told the whole town you two were dating. Billy, you knew she wanted to wait." Stu drove while Billy rolled his eyes. "They were going to find out eventually. Everyone already thinks you two were fucking behind Tatum's back." Stu kept his eyes on the road. "Don't talk about her." After his talk with Dewey, Stu felt differently about a few things. "Jesus, what crawled up your ass tonight?" Stu hit the brakes making Billy's head hit the dash. "What the fuck!" The boy yelled holding his now bleeding head. "It's four in the morning. I just had to drive across town to pick you up from jail and you haven't said thank you. I begged Dewey not to call your dad to save you from the fight that was bound to happen and still, no thank you. Do you give a shit about me at all? Cause lately I feel like the only one you pay attention to is little Miss Betty Crocker. If I have to put on an apron for you to give a fuck I will. Is that what it's going to take?"

Billy's head pounded and Stu's yelling didn't help. "I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear? My fucking hand is broken and you're upset that I didn't say thank you? You didn't even give me the chance. Where were you when she was getting attacked?" Stu's demeanor changed as he seemed to shrink. "You told me to get water-"

"That's right you were getting her water because you just had to give her alcohol. If you would've just gotten me and you a beer none of this would've happened. Don't jump my ass because all of this is your fault." Stu's face was red as tears weld up in his eyes. He gassed up the car driving in silence. The streetlights were smeared by his tears making it harder to see. This was his fault. That was what he told himself over and over. He was the one being selfish. He hadn't even noticed the bright white cast covering his partner's hand.

While Stu beat himself up over something he had no control over Billy cursed himself for yelling. "I'm sorry for shouting." Billy broke the silence. Stu sniffled trying to compose himself. "I'm sorry for jumping your ass." He responded quietly.

Billy turned towards the driver sighing at the sight. "It's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's Daniel's." Stu rounded the corner sending a glance to Billy. He didn't know his partner knew your assailant. "Daniel?" Stu asked. "Daniel Lawson. I heard Dewey say his name when talking to some other asshole." Stu looked over at his friend seeing that gleam in his eyes he hadn't seen for a while. "What are you thinking?" Billy smirked already having a plan. "I'm thinking we're about to have one less student attending Woodsboro high school."

By the time Stu pulled into the garage both men had smiles on their faces. Stu was happy to have his partner in crime back. It was probably unhealthy that the time he felt closest to Billy was when they were planning a murder. This was something only the two of them shared. Billy didn't want to include you because he saw you as too innocent to partake in such a depraved act. Even after what you did that night at Stu's place. To put it simply it was men's work.

Stu didn't want to include you because he had Billy to himself. It was their little secret this time. Stu would make sure you wouldn't find out about it. It was a win for everyone involved. Your attacker would disappear and Stu got to spend quality time with his boyfriend. It was a win win scenario.

"I'm going to take a shower and get something to eat before I head to bed." Billy pulled his boots off sitting them by the door. Stu stood behind his lover starting to kiss his neck softly. All the planning had stirred something inside of the short-haired boy. "Stu..." Billy warned not really in the mood. That didn't stop him however as his hand slowly slid down the front of Billy's outfit. "I'm tired." He spoke trying not to hurt Stu's feelings. His hand slipped underneath Billy's pants making him pull away. "Enough, alright? I'm tired and I'm hungry. I'm not in the mood right now."

Billy's hand was still killing him and his stomach was fighting for attention. Not to mention the throbbing headache he now had thanks to Stu. The last thing on his mind was sex unfortunately for his partner. Billy didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't personal but Stu took it as such.

"Whatever I'm going to sleep. You'll probably have more room on the couch than the bed." Stu walked upstairs leaving Billy with a headache. He was used to Stu's mood swings they happened ever so often. That along with an occasional manic episode. If he was lucky Stu would wake up in a better mood. Billy rubbed his face stopping halfway realizing too late he had makeup on. "Fuck..." He cursed.

Billy walked into the kitchen fixing himself a sandwich. He decided he would eat first and then take a shower. It was a funny sight. The man covered in makeup and blood stains was sitting at the kitchen table trying his best to eat a sandwich with his left hand. Once it was gone he put his plate in the sink, he'd wash it later. Billy decided to use the downstairs bathroom not about to suffer Stu's wrath once again.

Showering was more difficult than anticipated. The more he struggled to get his shirt off the more aggravated he got. "God damnit!" He cursed a little too loud. "Stupid..." He whispered to himself. With a couple of deep breaths, he went into the kitchen grabbing a pair of scissors. It wasn't an easy task to cut the shirt from his body. The doctor at the hospital cut the duct tape and the sleeve of his shirt off leaving room to put on the cast. Funny enough he left Billy to suffer with the rest of the fabric. His hand fumbled with the scissors struggling to get them to cut anything.

His yelling had woken you up. You could still feel the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Thankfully it was less aggressive than before. Stu was laying sideways in the bed drooling onto your pillows. "Guess everyone had a rough night." You grumbled pulling yourself up from the bed.

You threw on your robe before heading down the stairs. Billy was home. His cursing and mumbling gave him away. "What are you doing?" Your eyes were squinted, offended by the white light in the bathroom. "Babe thank fuck. Cut this." He held the scissors towards you while you just stood confused. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust.

"What happened to your face?" You moved forward to run a finger over the dried blood. "Police brutality." He raised his eyebrows at the joke which didn't make you laugh. "Your arm..." You noticed the cast branded with Dewey's name. Gently you reached out inspecting the cast. "Don't ask." Billy shook his head at the signature. "How bad did you break it?" Just like that the whole scene replayed in your head. For a minute or two you watched your boyfriend turn into something you couldn't describe.

It was scary. You remembered how he looked when he was chasing you in the mall a few days after you moved. It was that same terrifying look just directed at someone else.

"They said I broke four knuckles, nothing too horrible." It was horrible. Some of the worst pain that boy ever felt but he wouldn't tell you that. You huffed a laugh. "How are you feeling?" He asked running his left hand over your head. Billy's eyes looked you up and down. You knew what he was wondering. "I'm okay. He didn't get that far if that's what you're asking." Billy shook his head. "It doesn't matter how far he got Y/n he shouldn't have touched you at all."

You grabbed the scissors slowly cutting the fabric off his body. "Are you upset that he touched me or are you upset that he hurt me?" The question was asked calmly. Billy didn't understand the difference between the two questions. To you however the difference was great. You seriously doubted Billy would've acted that same way if it was some other girl.

Billy chose his words carefully seeing you had scissors and all. "I'm not upset, I'm furious." His fingers grabbed your jaw lifting your chin. Your hands stopped, waiting for him to say something. Billy's eyes wandered your face his heart squeezed at the thought of anything happening to you. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you tonight. I didn't know what he was doing. I heard you say my name and I saw his hand under your dress. I blacked out for a second." It was a bullshit excuse. He remembered every thought that flew through his brain. Billy could recite the boy's pained pleas if you asked him to. Now was the time to play up the boyfriend act. As days went on it got easier for him to do.

His eyes softened as he spoke. It was funny how things came full circle. You met Billy because of some bully trying to see down your shirt. That was the first person he ever hit. Now look at the two of you. Both of you were broken but somehow you were looking out for each other.

"You think you embarrassed me?" You pulled away from his touch. Everyone would be talking about it. You knew that, but Billy almost killed a man with his bare hands and he's worried about the scene he caused.

"You're not embarrassed?" Billy cocked his head to one side. You started to peel off the cut up shirt as you spoke. "No. I'm scared, I-I'm worried but I'm not embarrassed. Do you think I'm embarrassed of you?" That was one of Billy's concerns. That after tonight you wouldn't want anything to do with him. He knew if the roles were reversed he'd probably never leave his house again. Fearful of what people might say. You looked the man up and down. He looked broken literally and figuratively. "The guy wanted to see my scar. I think he had more to drink than I did." You laughed trying to make a joke out of the serious conversation. "It was scary, I thought... something bad was going to happen and it might have. I don't know. You stopped him before anything seriously fucked up happened so thank you."

You tossed the ripped pieces of the shirt in the trash almost falling over from spinning too fast. "Baby," Billy said as he grabbed your arm stabilizing you. "Still feeling it huh?" He smiled. "I'll never do this again." You promised but Billy doubted that. Billy knew by the way you and Stu danced that you two would have partying in common.

"I bet." He said turning on the shower so the water could warm up. "Make sure you scrub your face good. You don't want to break out." Billy nodded at your advice. "Are you going back to bed?" You yawned at the mention of sleep. "I'm exhausted. I'll save you a spot in bed okay?" Billy watched you walk into the hallway. "Okay, I won't be long." You shut the bathroom door behind you going back up to your room.

You tried to be normal about it all. Part of you swooned over what he did. In some sick twisted way, you enjoyed seeing him defend you the way he did. It made you feel invincible which was a dangerous feeling. The other part of you however feared the man you began to love. He could keep you safe from everyone but himself. Stu's behavior at the party was unsettling as well. The violence was more important to him than you. He rushed to your side but his shouting didn't stop. The fight was thrilling for Stu.

With a heavy heart and head, you threw your robe over the chair crawling into bed next to Stu. "Scoot." You shoved the boy forcing him to move to the side of the bed. Stu rolled over his back facing you. Deep in sleep, he grabbed your hand pulling your arm over his waist. With a small smile, you pulled him in effectively snuggling up to the man.

You didn't know how things would go. The headache you had could've been the alcohol or your overthinking. You were scared of the future. For too long you had lived on a day-to-day basis. It was nice for a while but eventually, you'd have to face the music. Something had to give.

Billy pulled on a pair of boxers along with a t-shirt before heading to bed. Stu had you wrapped in his arms leaving plenty of room for Billy. Carefully he climbed into bed not wanting to wake up either of you. He wasn't happy with the way things played out. Daniel should be dead not just concussed with a broken nose. Billy didn't give a shit about the details of your attack. That son of a bitch laid a finger on you, the one thing Billy promised to prevent. Daniel didn't know it yet but he was a dead man walking.

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

[joelmillerisapunk]

WIP Wednesday

Here are 3 long previews of three fics two Joels and one Marcus Acacius bc wtf is even happening

QZ Coffee Hoe Joel

Joel stands in line behind another man in a shady corner of the QZ waiting to trade you his last four ration cards for coffee. He remembers one of the guards he regularly provides drugs to, mentioning a rumor about a secret stash of coffee that you keep hidden away. If he can get his hands on some of that, it'll be worth more than his sanity at this point.

He walks up to you in the shadowed corner and holds out four ration cards - enough for a half bag of coffee and a couple filters to DIY his own home brew. 

You pause eyeing the man up and down, Joel fucking Miller, you've beeing waiting for this day. God he's such a pretty piece of eye candy around this dreary concrete hell. You smirk, and shake your head, when you the ration cards in his hands, “your cards are no good here Miller.” 

He looks surprised you know his name and then looks behind him, “but you just sold him a full bag for ‘em” 

You look over at Carl, your right hand, the man who helped you set up shop, “yah well Carl's been a regular since I started.” You grab your box of overflowing ration cards. “Your cards ain't good to me Joel. Turns out a lot of people miss coffee.”

Gladiator Marcus Acacius

As the evening wanes and guests begin to depart, you slip away from your admirers under the pretense of needing fresh air. Marcus follows at a discreet distance, his military training serving him well in this illicit dance of concealment. He finds you in the peristyle garden,  bathed in moonlight that makes you look like one of Diana's own nymphs—untouchable yet irresistibly tempting.

"You tease me cruelly before our peers," he says quietly as he approaches, keeping his voice low to avoid detection by any lingering guests or servants who might be lurking nearby. "Is it not enough that we risk everything behind closed doors?"

You turn to face him fully, your heart pounding with anticipation and trepidation at the dangerous game you both play so well under Rome's ever-watchful gaze. Your words come out as a soft challenge laced with affectionate sarcasm. "And what would life be without a touch of peril to spice our secret rendezvous?”

Howdy Honey - Ranch Joel Ch. 2

As you prepare to retire to the couch, Joel surprises you by scooping you up into his arms. "What are you doing?" you protest weakly, even as you instinctively wrap an arm around his shoulders for support.

"I'm takin' you to your room," he replies, his tone leaving no room for debate. "You'll be more comfortable in your own bed, and I reckon it's about time you started usin' it again."

Before you can voice any further objections, Joel is ascending the staircase with surprising ease, despite your protests about being too heavy. When he reaches the top, he carries you down the hallway to your bedroom and gently sets you down on the bed.

There," he says, tucking the covers around you with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. "You get some sleep now. I'll be right downstairs if you need anything."

You watch as he turns to leave, a sudden sense of panic welling up inside you at the thought of being alone in the dark. "Joel, wait," you call out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the hallway light. "What is it, darlin'?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

"Would you... could you maybe stay with me for a little while?" you ask, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess yourself. "Just until I fall asleep?”

Npt to all of tumblr: @evolnoomym @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @604to647 @syd-djarin

@penvisions @pascalssbabyy @thundermartini @ovaryacted @sawymredfox

@sixhours @ameerawrites @oonajaeadira @ace-turned-confused @burntheedges

@alltheirdamn @strang3lov3 @magpiepills @mountainsandmayhem @mermaidgirl30

[silverryuan]

Mira Kim with Yor Forger reader

Dengue fever's gone now.

• You guys met through her friends. She noticed how aloof and shy you are when interacting with others and assumed that you felt uncomfortable, so she always makes sure to talk to you in a calm way unlike Zoe, who constantly talks and changes topics that you aren't familiar of or too slow catching up on.

• During lunchtime in the cafeteria, they're just talking about about homework, guys they have a crush on, social media shit. Until they brought up the subject of appearances...

Millie: "Thank god lunchtime started before that creepy teacher said something. He gave me weird stares this morning."

Sharon: "That's because you insisted on wearing that short skirt."

Millie: "I can't help it! If it makes my boyfriend happy!"

Zoe: "Ooh, so your boyfriend is into those kind of things~"

Mira: "Girls, stop that. We're in front of the table! People are trying to eat here."

Camilla: "Calm down, Mira. We're just talking about what we like to wear. Besides, style is important for attending the Fashion Department. Oh, that reminds me... What kind of style are you into, Yor?"

Yor: "Huh? Umm, not much. But I guess proper long-skirt dresses with darker colors?"

Zoe: "Whaaat? Are you like, into goth-like style? That's unexpected of you, Yor~"

Millie: "Zoe's right! You should show off your legs more."

Mira: "Millie! Zoe!"

Sharon: "That's pretty inappropriate, don't you think?"

Camilla: "That's okay. I mean, Yor certainly doesn't care about appearances. That's incredibly bold of her. Leave her on that topic, it's her choice."

Millie: "Shame~ She has a nice face and body, yet she she's not proud of it."

Zoe: "Yeah! I'm sure that guys will like her more if she--"

Mira: "You guys stop! You're making her uncomfortable..."

Yor: "No. It's alright, Miss Kim, I'm fine..."

• After lunchtime, you immediately make a beeline straight to your classroom but Mira stops you before she enters her classroom...

Mira: "Hey... I'm sorry the girls are this way. I already told them off that it's a bad impression on you since you are a transferee. I'm so sorry! I hope you'll give them another chance?"

Yor: "O-Oh!... Of course, Miss Kim."

Mira: "Call me Mira. Good luck in your department!"

Yor: "Of course, Mira. I'll do my best!"

• You two became friends fast. She introduced you to Zack but he's more annoyed than pleased since you've been stealing Mira's attention away from him. Mira took notice of Zack's hostility towards you and scolded him. She decided to plan a hang out for the three of you at a café near the school. Unfortunately, one of Zack's enemies overheard the conversation.

• You've never been in a trendy café before, or any type of restaurant in Seoul. Only preferring to shop and make food in your house. You three managed to reserve a table. As you sat down next to Mira, she began noticing how fidgety you are and searched inside her bag if she brought earphones for you to listen to and ignore the packed establishment.

Mira: "Hmmm... let's see if I brought earphones..."

Yor: "O-Oh! It's alright, Miss Kim-- I mean, Mira... um, look! Zack's coming here--"

• As soon as you see Zack coming with a tray of food and drinks, a hooded stranger with a face mask bumped into him--

Zack: "HEY, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING ASSHOLE! YOU ALMOST SPILLED MY DRINKS!"

???: "Fuck you, man."

Zack: "WHY YOU LITTLE PIECE OF--"

• Zack was about to throw the first punch when he remembered his promise to Mira. So he restrained himself and returned to your table. Mira was too distracted because she was looking up her music playlist on her phone while talking to you. You, on the other hand, witnessed everything.

Zack: "Alright, food's here."

Mira: "Yay! Thanks, Zack. Let's dig in, Yor."

Yor: "W-W-WAIT!"

• You interrupted before Zack takes a sip from his coffee. You try to find an excuse as Zack gives you an impatient stare.

Yor: "We... must pray first!"

Zack: "...Are you serious--"

Mira: "You're right, let's pray!"

Zack: "Okay."

• While they close their eyes and kept praying, you quickly snatched Zack's coffee and replace it with yours. You placed his coffee near you. That hooded stranger spiked his coffee when he bumped into Zack and he didn't notice--

Mira: "Amen."

Zack: "Amen."

Yor: "A-amen."

• You made an excuse of going to the bathroom while hiding the spiked coffee behind you. You poured the drink into the toilet bowl and flushed the evidence. You made sure to kill the stranger later-- NO! no, control your bloodlust! Your friends are here for goodness sake! You came back to the table and continued eating.

• The afternoon went without a hitch. Just a feeling that someone is watching you. So when Mira offered you to stroll through the park (much to Zack's dismay), you politely declined, making up an excuse of going home early for an errand (much to Zack's delight). You bowed to them goodbye at the café's exit.

• You see the hooded stranger started to follow the couple and immediately dragged him into the alleyway.

???: "HEY! WHAT THE HELL'S YOUR PROBLEM?!"

Yor: "I'm sorry but I mustn't let you leave..."

???: "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BITCH-- ACK!!!

YOR JABS THEIR NECK

• The stranger fell unconscious to the ground. You search the strangers pockets and found a packet of pills. From the looks of it, emetics. You waited until it became dark, dragged the body to a nearby police station and left a note.

• Soon, news reached the school that a student is arrested for possession of illegal drugs. Zack was surprised that the arrested student is actually one of his enemies and he loudly express his gladness that he won't be seeing the retard's face for a while. Mira smacked him on the head for that.

[nonotnolan]

Summer Break Dullahans

I can’t say that I was expecting to respond to somebody’s cry for help at three in the afternoon.  The student dorms were already pretty empty, since only one of the three buildings would be open for summer classes, and most people were at home until the summer semester officially started.  So when I heard a faint cry of “Can anybody hear me?  I need help!” it was easy for me to believe that the guy had been yelling in vain for quite awhile.  I wasn’t sure what I expected-- a Freshman who managed to get pinned between the bed and the wall, maybe?  I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see Ben’s detached head sitting on a couch pillow.

No wonder he was yelling for help, he was literally just a head!  I walked over and picked him up off the couch, grabbing him on either side of his ears.  I thought for sure this was just an optical illusion somehow, but... no, I was holding his entire head in my hands.  “Put me down, jackass,” he shouted, trying and failing to wiggle out of my grip.  “I don’t need help from you.”

I wasn’t expecting to feel the muscles in his jaw move as he spoke, and I’m a bit ashamed to admit I actually dropped him in surprise.  He landed on the couch, at least, but it couldn’t have felt good to land nose-first from that far up.  “I’m so sorry, Ben,” I said, as I rotated him back to an upright position.  “What happened to you, anyway?”

“You know damn well what happened-- your fucking roommate happened, that’s what,” he said, glaring at me.  “I was just watching some Netflix when Grant barges into my room with a goddamn sword.  Next thing I know I’m stuck on the couch, and he’s taking away my headless body!  He already told me about your plan to steal bodies away from other guys, don’t you fucking dare pretend to feel bad.”  Well, that was news to me, but Ben refused to believe a word I said.  Not knowing what else to do, I turned on the TV on for him, and leaved the door open so that the next person might be able to find him a bit easier.  

Pulling out my phone, I discovered that I’d missed a few text messages from Grant.  He said he was waiting for me downstairs in the parking garage with a surprise that I’d have to see to believe.  Which... yeah, if I hadn’t managed to stumble across Ben’s detached head, I don’t think that I ever would have expected to see a muscular Grant.  He was a great roommate and all, but the dude was maybe 120 pounds on a good day.  Given that I was easily twice his weight, the two of us definitely had a weird dynamic going.

Or, we used to, at any rate.  The new Grant was almost certainly a lot more muscular than he had ever been before in his entire life.  It was hard to imagine the guy who stayed up every night with me to grind rank in League of Legends being able to earn a physique like that.  And there was something about seeing his pale head resting on top of Ben’s tanned body that was just far too comical.

“What, is that the only reaction I’m going to get?” he asked, frowning slightly.  “Fuckin’ look at me, bro.  I’m like some sort of Alpha Male now.  You wish you could be a man like me!”  He started flexing his arms, causing veins to appear in places I didn’t even know they existed.  “It’s okay to be jealous, Eric.  You don’t gotta act so modest on my account.  I know you’re gay, it’s okay if you suddenly want a piece of this.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.  “Sorry if you were expecting me to be completely losing it right now,” I said.  “I already ran into Ben upstairs, and he told me... well, what’s left of him told me about what you did.  Nice sword, by the way.”

“Well, fuck,” he said, letting his shoulders drop.  There was something about seeing him stand there, slouched over, that made him look so much more like the real Grant.  “Probably should have slapped his head onto my old body before leaving.  I guess on the plus side, I won’t have to work very hard to convince you that this sword is magic somehow.  And anyway, I still have another surprise up my sleeve.”  He snapped his fingers, and gestured toward a figure who had been standing off in the shadows.  Well, most of a figure, at any rate.  A headless body, absolutely stacked with muscles, stepped forward into the lights.

“Did you... is that for me?” I asked, trying to make sense of the surge of emotions I felt.  Desire.  Longing.  Lust.  Holy hell, I wanted that body to be mine.  The shoulders, the pecs, the abs... healthy, vibrant, everything that my current pale and flabby body could never be.  Not without more work than I would ever be willing to do.  A primal, animalistic Need.  And, if I had to be honest, a slight amount of guilt.  I’d already saw what Grant had done to Ben.  If I made this body mine, I would be stealing it from someone else.

I was utterly entranced.  I found myself tracing the ridges of its chest with my fingers, my head utterly swimming in hormones as my manhood rose to its paltry four inches underneath my cargo shorts.  “Grant, who did... where did you find him?”

“Nuh-uh,” Grant said, shaking his head at me.  “I know you, Eric.  You think too much.  If I tell you his name, you’re gonna feel bad and you’re gonna try to make it up to him.  Fuck that shit.  This is all or nothing.  You want this body, you don’t get to know whose it was.”

He knew me far too well.  I looked back and forth between Grant and the headless muscle hunk that he had procured for me.  Did I want it that badly?  Would I be able to live with myself afterward?  My head tried to argue ethics, but my heart already knew my answer.  

I dropped down onto my knees, giving Grant easier access to my neck.  He lifted the sword up high into the air, striking down with a massive swing.  I felt a sudden lurch as I fell several feet to the ground.  I tried to use my arms to prevent myself from hitting the ground, only I didn’t have arms anymore-- my old body was completely unresponsive.

“Hey, wanna know what your new body is gonna smell like?”  I tried to protest, but I was unable to stop Grant from lifting up my new body’s arm and shoving my head right into its armpit.  The coarse hair brushed up against my nose and lips as the sweaty musk filled my nostrils.  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” he said, laughing at me.  I wanted to be mad, but... he was absolutely right.

“Just shut up and attach my head,” I said, trying not to let him know how much it was turning me on.  If I didn’t have an armpit fetish before, I did now.  Grant lowered my head into place, and suddenly I had full control over my new, muscular body.

I practically sprinted back inside to find a bathroom with a good mirror.  Can you blame me?  You could still see the difference between my head’s pale skin and my body’s bronze tan, but I think maybe a lot of people would  just assume that I had used tanning spray.  Hell, for all I know, my prior body really had used a tanning spray.

A few months from now, the rest of my friends would return from summer break, and I would have to try and convince everyone that I had gained this body naturally.  No one would ever believe that I had lost 100 pounds at the same time that my roommate gained 100 pounds.  Although... if Grant was planning to keep the sword, maybe he would be willing to hook up my friends with a new body as well?

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

That Lovin' Feelin' - Goose

Pairing: Nick "Goose" Bradshaw / Mitchell! Fem! OC | Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Intense Mutual Pining, Obliviousness, Suggestive Language, Second Person ("You") POV but No Use of Y/N

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: You may or may not have a big fat crush on your brother's best friend. And Goose may or may not have a big fat crush on you. Luckily for both of you, Maverick is completely oblivious.

[Reader is mentioned to be a woman, but there is no description of anything appearance wise. Reader is Maverick's twin sister and a nurse at the naval hospital.]

A.N. Set during Top Gun (the O Club Scene). In this work, let's just imagine that Goose and Carole never crossed paths and Carole is off living her best life elsewhere. Absolutely no shade to Carole, just wanted some Goose love. And I guess sorry Bradley for wiping away your existence.

Part 2 Part 3

Master List

It was a sunny, warm day in Miramar and you just wanted some peace and quiet on your day off. But there was no such thing as a quiet day off when your horrifically annoying twin brother was in town to attend TOP GUN. Just as you flipped to a new page, you heard the distinct sound of Goose’s car pulling up your short driveway.

And three seconds later, the back door opened and Maverick stepped out.

“There you are,” he stated, holding the door open for Goose.

“Yes, I was, in fact, missing from my own house. Thank you for finding me,” you muttered, not even glancing up from your book. “And aren’t you two supposed to be at training right now?”

“It was just introductions,” Maverick replied, dropping into the seat across from you.

“Pete Mitchell, if you dare put your dirty boots on my coffee table,” you warned him, picking your head up from the book. Maverick’s foot hovered just an inch above the coffee table until Goose pushed it aside so that he could sit down in the other seat. “Why are you even here? You have your own houses, go do stupid shit there.”

“We were going to go to lunch and because I’m a nice brother who remembered that you have today off, I decided to stop over here to ask you if you wanted to come,” Maverick replied, gesturing innocently to himself. “And this is the thanks I get?”

“Pass,” you huffed, turning back to your book.

“Mav will pay,” Goose stated, causing you to slowly pick your head up.

“Well, now you’re speaking my language.”

Maverick scoffed and nudged Goose in the side before standing up from his chair. You shared a small smile with Goose before turning to your brother.

“We leave in five minutes. Come on, I’m hungry,” Maverick replied, urging you to your feet. “Get dressed into real people clothes.”

“Real people clothes?” you scoffed, glaring over at Maverick. “Hey, Pete, I read something quite interesting in this book that might interest you.”

“What?”

You pulled out your middle finger from behind your book, earning another eye roll from Maverick. He waved his hand dismissively and headed inside, undoubtedly to raid your fridge even though you were about to head out to lunch.

“Who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?” you asked, slowly getting to your feet.

“I think one of the other pilots threw him off a bit,” Goose replied, sending you a smile that had your heart fluttering. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “Thanks, Goosie.”

“Anytime.”

Goose got up from his seat and turned towards the door. You thanked Goose as he held the door open for your before darting inside, trying to hide your ridiculously awkward behavior from him. Walking quickly to your bedroom, you closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.

“Really smooth,” you scolded yourself, shaking your head. “One of these days, he’s going to say something. And you’re going to be fucked. And not in the way you want to be.”

It wasn’t like you planned to have an uncontrollable schoolgirl crush on your brother’s best friend. You didn’t ask for it. It just happened. And you tried to push it out of your mind—you went on other dates and saw other guys—but the second that Nick Bradshaw walked back into Miramar, it was like all of that personal growth just went out the window.

Thankfully, Goose was too nice to say anything about it. And Maverick was too arrogant and self-centered to notice the looks that you threw in Goose’s direction. But one of these days, Goose was going to say something and Maverick was going to be pissed at you.

As if you needed more problems in your life.

Tossing your book onto your bed, you walked over to your drawers and pulled out a simple tee shirt and a pair of jean shorts fit for the hot summer weather. Quickly pulling on a pair of beaten-up Converse, you grabbed your purse and headed out into the main part of your house, where Goose and Maverick were waiting for you.

“Alright, I’m ready to go.”

“Finally,” Maverick sighed, hopping off the counter.

You rolled your eyes at Maverick before turning to grab your keys off the hook. Pulling the set of car keys out of the way, you grabbed your house keys and moved to shove them into your purse. But when the edge of the key ring caught on the zipper of your purse, the keys dropped to the ground.

“Dammit,” you muttered, bending down to grab them.

Goose, meanwhile, who was standing right behind you, quickly averted his gaze as the denim of your shorts rode up just a little higher than normal. He knew from personal experience that if he didn’t look away immediately, he wasn’t going to look away. And Maverick could be a little slow, but if Goose openly stared at your ass like he wanted to take a bite out of it, even Maverick would notice.

“Alright, let’s go,” you stated, straightening up.

Goose smacked himself lightly on the cheek to remind himself to focus before heading out of the house behind you and Maverick.

After lunch, Maverick managed to convince you to go along with their shenanigans for the rest of the day. Including—to your complete frustration—a night out at the O Club.

But you had the day off tomorrow as well, so you were running out of excuses.

Applying some bright red lipstick, you straightened up in your bathroom and made some last-minute adjustments. You weren’t going to actually go out searching for anything tonight, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t have a little fun. It was nice to be complimented and to feel like an actual woman rather than a blob of scrubs once in a while.

Satisfied with your appearance, you grabbed your purse and walked out to your living room to wait for Goose and Maverick to come around and pick you up. Pulling on a pair of strappy heels, you picked your head up when you heard the Bronco coming around the corner again. Locking up your house, you trotted down to where Goose pulled over.

“Hey,” you called, pulling the back door open. Noticing the uniforms that Goose and Maverick were wearing, you managed a small, bashful smile when you caught Goose’s eye. “You pulled out the summer whites for the occasion?”

“Have to look the part,” Maverick answered instead, completely oblivious to the look that you were sending Goose.

“Right,” you drawled, leaning back in your seat.

You glanced out the window as Goose discreetly fixed his rearview mirror to give him a slightly better view of you in a dress that he hadn’t seen you in before. Clearing his throat to remind himself that he needed to focus on the road and not the hints of your breasts that were outlined by the particular cut of the dress, Goose put the car in drive.

The O Club was packed full by the time that you, Goose, and Maverick arrived. You stuck close to Goose, who was tall enough that he could see over most of the crowd, as Maverick and Goose surveyed over the patrons.

“This is what I call a target rich environment,” Maverick stated with a wide smirk.

You immediately reached over and smacked your brother on the back of his head, causing him to whine and shoot you a glare as he rubbed the tender skin.

“You deserved it. I’m not going to apologize,” you stated before heading for the bar.

“You live your life between your legs, Mav,” Goose added, squeezing Maverick’s shoulder before following after you.

“Goose, even you could get laid in a place like this,” Maverick replied, patting Goose on the back.

“I’m telling you; I’d be happy to find a girl to talk dirty to me.”

That line caused you to momentarily pause, which resulted in Goose running into the back of you. Goose grabbed your arm to steady you and you tried to not buckle under his concerned gaze. Your eyes widened at your newfound proximity as Goose shot you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, honey.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s crowded in here,” you mumbled out bashfully.

You cleared your throat and turned back for the bar, reminding yourself to keep cool. Goose and Maverick stepped up beside you at the bar and ordered their beers. When the bartender turned to you, you requested a bit of a stronger beverage to get you through the evening. At least that way, if you did something stupid, you could blame it on the alcohol.

The bartender placed Maverick and Goose’s drinks down first before walking off to grab the ingredients for your drink. You fiddled with your fingers and looked up when Goose spoke up.

“Mav, you know who the best is? That’s him, Iceman,” Goose stated, gesturing across the bar.

You and Maverick turned in sync to the man in question. He was tall and dressed in the same uniform as Maverick and Goose with a solid tan and frosted tips. But you were more focused on the fact that he was wearing sunglasses inside at night like a douche bag and that the glass that he was drinking from had an obscene amount of ice in it.

Well, at least he lived up to his callsign.

“It’s the way he flies. Ice cold. No mistakes. He just wears you down, you get bored, frustrated, you do something stupid, and he’s got you,” Goose explained, taking a swig from his beer.

You smiled at the bartender and thanked him when he placed your drink down in front of you. Pulling your drink back to you and taking a sip, you turned around when Goose called out to another aviator that was walking over to this side of the bar.

“Hey, hey, Slider,” Goose chuckled, grabbing onto the set of wings on Slider’s uniform, “I thought that you wanted to be a pilot, man, what happened?”

“Goose, you’re such a dickhead. Whose butt did you kiss to get in here, huh?” Slider asked, tilting his chin up.

“Well, the list is long but distinguished,” Goose joked, playing along.

“Yeah, well so is my Johnson,” Slider replied, knocking back a shot.

Setting the glass down on the bar, Slider set his sights on you. Slider sent you a smirk that both Goose and Maverick immediately noticed and did not appreciate.

“And it is available,” Slider added, sending you a wink.

“Yeah, well, she’s not,” Goose stated, causing Slider to turn to him.

“She’s my sister, Kerner, so keep your mitts off of her,” Maverick replied, earning an eyeroll from you.

“But you said that your Johnson is both long and distinguished?” you asked Slider, taking a long sip of your drink as you toyed with all three aviators at once.

Maverick and Goose whipped around to shoot your exasperated and incredulous looks, which you promptly ignored. After all, it wasn’t like you were actually going to consider going home with Slider. You didn’t want anything to do with the whole TOP GUN bullshit. But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t mess with Maverick after he was such a little shit to you.

“She’s not serious,” Maverick stated, grabbing you and tugging you closer to him.

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Turning back to Goose and Slider, who seemed to be having some kind of territorial staring contest, you gestured between them. “So, how do you two know each other?”

“We went to the Academy together,” Goose explained, still shooting Slider a death glare.

“You’re a RIO then?” you asked Slider.

“He flies with Iceman,” Goose answered before Slider could.

“That’s Mr. Iceman to you,” Slider corrected Goose before gesturing over to his pilot.

“Hey, Mother Goose, how’s it going?” Ice greeted him.

Iceman stepped up and offered Goose a genuine smile as he reached over to shake Goose’s hand. Goose broke his staring contest with Slider to return Ice’s polite greeting. 

“I’m doing good, Tom,” Goose replied before gesturing over to Maverick. “This is Pete Mitchell. Pete, this is Tom Kazansky.”

While Maverick and Ice exchanged their quips and attempts to feel each other out, you simply sipped at your drink, a bit bored to be honest. You glanced up when Goose stepped in front of you, blocking you from Slider’s view, before turning back to the exchange between Maverick and Ice.

“Mav, you must have sold under a lucky star, huh?” Slider asked, causing the group to turn to him. “First, the MiG and then you guys slide into Cougar’s spot.”

“Hey, we didn’t slide into Cougar’s spot, it was ours, okay?” Goose stated, squaring up to Slider again.

“Yeah, well some pilots wait their whole careers just to see a MiG up close,” Slider stated, picking up another shot. “Guess you guys are lucky and famous, huh?”

“No, you mean notorious,” Ice corrected his RIO before setting his sights on you. Identifying you as a target, since you were sandwiched in between Goose and Maverick, Ice offered you a flirtatious smile. “If you want to hang out with a real group of aviators, we’ll be over there.” Ice turned back to Maverick and Goose, who were both now glaring daggers into his skull. “I’ll see you two around.”

“You can count on it,” Maverick stated pointedly.

“Bye,” you called after them, earning a pinch in your side from Maverick.

“They were abused children,” Goose stated, leaning on the bar with a dead serious expression.

“Goose!” you admonished, nudging him in the side.

“What?”

“That’s so rude,” you scolded him, though you couldn’t help the smile or light giggle that escaped.

“Then why are you laughing, honey?” Goose shot back.

He smiled at you in a way that instantly had your heart fluttering. But Maverick, ever the oblivious and indirect cockblock, broke the moment.

“We’re going to have a good time,” Maverick stated, holding up his drink.

You clinked your drinks together before Goose and Maverick turned to survey the rest of the bar. You, however, were sneaking not very subtle looks in Goose’s direction. It wasn’t your fault that he looked that good in his fancy white uniform.

But, of course, as soon as Maverick set his sights on some poor woman across the way, you were on your own once again. And that was why you never came out to the bars with your brother. Picking up your drink, you were about to head to a booth or a seat elsewhere when Ice swooped in, cutting off your escape.

“I don’t believe that I caught your name earlier,” Ice stated, leaning on the bar with a confident smirk.

“I don’t believe that I gave you my name earlier,” you replied calmly, turning to face Ice. You set your drink down and retook your seat. “But I know that you’re Iceman.”

“Hard to forget a face like mine,” Ice remarked, causing you to let out an amused noise.

“Did you practice that one in the mirror?”

“I can see the resemblance. Between you and your brother,” Ice stated, earning a sharp look from you.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, getting straight to the point.

“I just wanted to talk. To get to know you.”

“You wanted to get to know my brother, actually,” you corrected Ice, twirling your drink around on the bar top. “You know, so that you can win the TOP GUN trophy and everything since he’s most likely your biggest competition.”

“I’m horrified that you think that I would use a lady’s attention for such nefarious purposes,” Ice drawled, causing you to playfully roll your eyes. “Really, I’m hurt. And I hear that you’re a nurse, so I think that you can help me get better, right?”

Ice leaned in closer, but you didn’t back down. You held his gaze confidently and reached for your drink.

“Is my brother glaring holes into the side of your head right now?” you asked, taking casual a sip.

“Yeah, but your personal bodyguard is going to get over here first,” Ice remarked, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Who?”

“Hey,” Goose called loudly, causing you and Ice to turn to him, “what are we talking about over here, huh? Let me just . . .” Goose situated himself in between Ice and you, causing Ice to shoot you an amused look. “So, what were we talking about?”

“Nothing too scandalous,” Ice replied, standing up straighter. He turned to you with a friendly smirk. “But I should get going. It was nice meeting you. And I’ll see you tomorrow, Goose.”

Ice walked off, leaving Goose and you alone. Goose waited a moments before turning urgently to you.

“Did he say anything to you?” Goose asked quietly, looking concerned.

“No, he was just messing with me. He just wants to get in Maverick’s head,”you replied, dismissing Goose’s concern. But when Goose didn’t change his expression, you leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder. “I’m fine, Goosie. He’s hardly the first cocky aviator that I’ve dealt with.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Nick.”

You offered Goose a small smile, twisting in your bar seat. Goose nodded in return, though he still looked a bit on edge as he glanced around the O Club. He leaned in closer to you to keep his voice low and still be heard over the music of the club. And if he noticed how your eyes widened slightly and your breath caught in your throat, he didn’t mention it.

“And by the way, I would stay away from Slider too. Trust me, he stinks. Never uses soap. Hardly ever does his laundry and—”

“—Goose,” you interjected, cutting off his ramble about Slider’s unkemptness, “I wasn’t going to go home with Slider.”

“You weren’t?” Goose asked, looking more than a little relieved.

“No, I was just messing with my brother,” you assured Goose, taking another sip of your drink. “And besides, I generally avoid going out with guys who make any sort of announcements about their genitals during the first five seconds of me knowing them.”

“Oh, okay,” Goose breathed out, a small easygoing smile returning to his lips.

You and Goose shared a small smile before Goose turned in his seat so that he was facing the bar. He gestured to your drink, which was starting to run low.

“Did you want another drink?”

“That depends,” you replied, twirling your straw around. “How long do you think we’ll still be here for?”

“I don’t know,” Goose answered honestly, glancing around the bar. “Mav sort of ran off with a woman, but I’m not really sure how that’s going.”

“I don’t want to know how that’s going,” you stated, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Then we’ll get you another drink,” Goose decided, causing you to smile and nod.

“Alright, Goosie, you’ve convinced me.”

Goose flagged down the bartender and ordered them both another round. The bartender placed your drinks down and Goose and you clinked them together before falling back into a conversation. There was still no sign of Maverick anywhere, so you entertained yourselves.

“Anything fun happening down at the hospital?” Goose asked, causing you to snort.

“I don’t want to disgust you.”

“Hey, hey, I’m a tough guy, I can handle it,” Goose replied, earning a light chuckle.

“Didn’t one of the nurses have to hold you down when you got a shot?” you asked, twisting your lips into a well-meaning smirk.

“It was a huge needle,” Goose exaggerated, causing you to laugh. “I was hardly the only guy who walked out of there a little paler than they were when they went in there.” Goose took a sip of his beer before pointing a figure over at you. “And Mav wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else,” you assured Goose, reaching for your drink.

You glanced around at the bar, taking a long sip. And you were completely unaware of the way that Goose was staring at you. How closely he was analyzing the way that your bright red lips wrapped around the straw. Or how he noticed that the way that you leaned forward gave him a better peak of your cleavage.

Tugging at his collar, Goose forced himself to look away and chugged some of his beer.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” Goose asked, trying to move to a very professional conversation topic.

“No, this is technically my ‘weekend,’” you replied, making air quotes with your fingers. “So, I don’t work tomorrow, but then I work three days straight after that.”  

“Sorry that we’ve been dragging you around with us on your day off,” Goose offered, causing you to send him a small smile.

“It’s not all bad,” you assured him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s nice to catch up with you. You guys, I mean. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“Seven months,” Goose agreed, tapping his fingers on the bar top.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you stated softly. You locked eyes with Goose and flicked your tongue out between your lips to catch the last drop of your sip, which Goose, of course, noticed. “Any big plans for you shore leave?”

“Maybe a few,” Goose replied, causing you to perk up.

“Like what?”

“Uh . . .” Goose trailed off awkwardly, trying to come up with something off the top of his head that was actually appropriate to say aloud to you, “. . . I really wanted to catch up on the movies that I missed.” You nodded slowly, causing Goose to sweat a bit. “You know me and movies.”

“Right,” you held out, raising a slightly suspicious eyebrow. “Well, if you want, there’s this drive-in place nearby that just opened up.”

“You ever been before?” Goose asked, causing you to shake your head.

“No, I haven’t. My coworker recommended it to me.”

“Did you want to go some time?” Goose offered softly, earning a wide doe-eyed look from you.

“Me?” you asked, gesturing to yourself.

“Yeah, you,” Goose laughed, trying to hide the fact that he was most definitely sweating through his shirt. “Who else?”

You opened your mouth, trying to find a way to respond to Goose’s offer that was appropriate and not at all desperate, when Charlie, the woman that Maverick serenaded earlier on the other side of the bar, walked by you.

“Your friend was magnificent,” Charlie stated confidently.

Goose sat up and watched Charlie walk away. You gagged when you noticed your brother walking over with a pleased smirk.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” you huffed, shooting Maverick a look.

“What the hell did Ice want?” Maverick asked, quickly changing the topic of conversation.

“Nothing.”

You reached for your drink and pulled the straw out. Bringing the cup to your lips, you chugged the rest of it, earning an eye roll from Maverick and an amazed look from Goose. But then Goose caught the sight of the condensation from the outside of the glass rolling down your neck and got distracted again. Setting the glass down on the bar top, you turned back to Goose and Maverick.

“Can we go then? I’d prefer to not see you accost anyone else in this place,” you stated, standing up from your seat.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They paid off their tabs before heading out to the car. Goose drove you back to your house, trying to not sink in his seat when he still lacked any answer to his offer. You didn’t look at him, staring out the window, and chatting casually with Maverick. Pulling up alongside your house, Goose put the car in park and smiled back at you. You returned it, leaning forward a bit.

“Thanks for driving, Goosie.” Turning to the both of them, you reined in the more schoolgirl-like bashfulness. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Have a good night,” Goose replied softly.

“I’ll call you if we’re going something,” Maverick offered as you got out of the Bronco.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, shutting the door behind you. Looking past your brother, who had his window rolled down, you offered Goose a shy smile. “And if you wanted to go to the drive-in, just . . . let me know.”

“The drive-in?” Maverick asked, confused and oblivious.

“I’ll—we’ll,” Goose caught himself, “we’ll do that, yeah.”

But the smile that he sent you next clearly communicated that he would call you. And that maybe he would forget to invite Maverick along. And then maybe you would forget to suggest for Maverick to come along too. And then you would just accidentally go to the drive-in, just the two of you. And maybe Maverick would just never hear about it.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, adding to Maverick’s confusion. “I’ll see you guys later. Goodnight.”

“Night,” Maverick and Goose echoed.

They waited until you were safely inside your house before Goose put the car back into drive. Maverick frowned a bit, thinking over your strange words.

“Drive-in?” he asked Goose, who stared straight ahead to not give anything away.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Goose stated, waving his hand to the side. “Maybe she was just tipsy.”

Part 2 Part 3

[blubushie]

r u loveless or just aro?

Uhh...

Honestly I'm not sure. I'm gonna break it down a little cuz the ASPD defo makes it a little difficult to work through.

ROMANTIC ATTRACTION

I'm defo arospec to some degree. Like 99% aromantic 1% alloromantic. I don't feel romantic attraction to people, but I do form brief obsessions/fixations that last a few months and then immediately die once that phase passes. I wouldn't consider it a crush since it's more a platonic thing and not romantic (though there's been a few times I've been convinced I've loved someone only for it to actually be me obsessing). There's only one person I'm certain I ever felt romantic love for, but the relationship didn't last long enough for me actually be certain if that was genuine love or also just a Mental Illness Obsession Episode.

SEXUAL ATTRACTION

Have this. I'm 100% allo in this regard.

PLATONIC ATTRACTION

I... don't have this. I've never had a desire to befriend someone. When someone tells me they want to be my friend it fills me with an immediate sense of panic and a desire to avoid that person and get away from them. (i get this with confessions of romantic attraction too—arguably not as bad though.) All friends I've ever made have been the result of someone constantly hounding me and not leaving me the fuck alone until I kinda gave up on avoiding them. On rare occassions this has resulted in someone gaining my trust enough that I've gotten closer to them and formed an emotional bond to them. But I've never had the desire to make friends, or to get to know someone, so I would consider myself aplatonic. I know a lot of people at present—there's only two I'd genuinely consider to be my friends. Over my entire life there's really only been four (or five, if you count my dad). And three out of those four I was also sexually attracted to, so...

FAMILIAL ATTRACTION

I genuinely don't know how much of this I feel versus how much of this is just societal obligation and "doing the right thing". Sons take care of their mothers and their fathers. I am definitely bonded to my father, but my mother is largely a hit and miss. I have a bit of trauma from her, so that's likely got something to do with it. I take care of her because it's the right thing to do, as sons are supposed to care for their mothers. Both of my siblings are half-brothers that I've never really been close with or even lived with, with my younger brother being 21 years my senior. I'm not very attached to them because of that. I think I'd be more affected by how their loss would affect my father than how it'd affect me.

The only familial attraction I've ever really felt is my son and Misty... but I'll also be honest that I'm not entirely sure what familial attraction is. I know what being in love with someone is as a concept, I know what sexual attraction is, I know what platonic is... but I don't understand how familial attraction differs from platonic aside from "societal obligation to family". I'd call my dad my friend, but he's my dad, so I respect him as a parent and confidant instead.

Which is to say that, yeah, I guess I'm afamilial too? I don't fucking know. I'd call myself a loveless aro, personally. I wish that aromanticism didn't bank so hard on emotional bonds with people at all. I wish there was a lot less of "I may not feel romantic attraction but I still love my friends and family!! 🥰🥰 Aros still love their families and friends just like normal people!!" because I really... don't? Emotional attachments aren't some saving grace from the brokenness of being aro, and my lack of them doesn't make me a broken person or a bad person.

[strang3lov3]

Questions tag game!! Ty for the tag @covetyou !! ♡

Do you make your bed? Not very well. I straighten everything out but my barbarian of a fiance sleeps like a tornado so there's really no use in making it actually nice. I also leave most blankets untucked because my cat Jojo loves to sleep under the covers all day so I like to make sure he won't get stuck anywhere, has an easy way in and out. You get it.

Favorite number? 69 obviously. The best number.

What's your job? Full-time student, and later I'll be a teacher!

If you could go back to school, would you? I'm in school, so...I guess I'll just say I don't plan on doing more than getting my bachelor's. And I wouldn't go back to high school ever.

Can you parallel park? Fffffffuck no. Nope. I managed to do it for my driver's test when I was 16, and I haven't done it since. I also can't back into a parking spot.

Do you think aliens are real? Of course. My father in law once said something to me about how he really had a lot of respect for Dave Grohl until he learned he believes in UFOs and I think that's so funny. Also, he's a self-proclaimed music nerd but claims that punk has never been political. He said he misses when Green Day only wrote songs about jerking off instead of politics....Idk. I think he might be the one on another fucking planet LMAO

Can you drive a manual car? I can, actually!! I drove a stick-shift 2008 Honda Civic for two years! The clutch had to be replaced within five months of me driving that car 😬 My fiance says he shudders to think of what I did to that car lol.

What's your guilty pleasure? None!! I'm pretty shameless about everything I find enjoyable and I just don't feel guilt for liking what I like.

Tattoos? 14 now. I'm trying to prioritize getting filler on my arms so my tattoos look nice and connected on my wedding day. I also plan to get a crawling panther and cheetah on my back soon, and cover up my linework tats I got when I was 18.

Favorite color? Light blue.

Do you like puzzles? Depends on the puzzle. I fuck with a jigsaw puzzle but most other puzzles I really fucking hate. Like a Rubik's Cube and those weird metal puzzles make me feel stupid lol.

Any phobias? Mhmmmmm. Three. They're all pretty debilitating because they're all so unavoidable. And also, people can be pretty like, not understanding about these things and they make me feel silly and dramatic. But the nature of phobias is that they're irrational and can't always be helped. I wouldn't choose to be this afraid of things if I had any say in the matter, but I don't so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Emetephobia (fear of vomiting) - Last year, every time I went out to eat for about nine months, I'd wake up in the middle of the night and vomit. These experiences have traumatized me on some level so anytime my stomach feels weird - be it hunger, anxiety, pain, etc. I freak out and panic and cry for hours. Like this kinda happens 1-2 times every week.

Blood Injury Injection (BII) phobia - Pretty much what it sounds like. I do not like to see blood, my own or anyone else's (though period blood is different to me and doesn't make me squeamish). I can't look at injuries no matter how small - like that paper cut scene in Everything Everywhere really bothered me and I had to shut off the movie. Injections really freak me out too and I will avoid having my blood drawn at all costs. I know I have a lot of tattoos but I also have them separated in my mind. It's just a different animal to me.

Entomophobia (fear of bugs) - I can't do it. All bugs, big or small, scare the bejesus out of me. I won't sleep in my bedroom if I find a bug in there. Once, I opened up my jar of peanut butter and found it full of ants which was one of the most disturbing things I've ever experienced in real life. Most of my nightmares are all bug related too. Like centipedes in my hair is a common one

Favorite childhood sport? I was a gymnast and a diver. I didn't like team sports so gymnastics was great for me! At 11 I developed Osgood-Schlatter disease which causes severe pain in the knees which kinda sucks when you're a gymnast and you rely on your knees for a lot. So I quit gymnastics to dive instead, which was great because I could flip and still have fun. But after fucking up a dive, I became really scared of the sport and that was it for me. From then on, I focused on art instead of sports.

Do you talk to yourself? Nope. I talk endlessly to others though.

Full pressure tags - @cum-a-calla @mssalo-main @fungal-rot @ghostlovesbaguettes @ovaryacted

@guiltyasdave @kappasbbgirl @senselessviolets @baronessvonglitter @mountainsandmayhem