#Hang Tab Box

[diltonsstrangescience]

Merry December 30th! (This took longer to finish than I anticipated.)

[xsjpackaging]

Gift Tab Retail Packaging Box Carton With Hanging Hole And Clear PVC Window

[whokilledsamara]

so about the mr. silvair hc where he makes mr. chopped watch with our permission... 👀 pls write something about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

WATCHING

a Mr. Silvair x afab reader fic {an: amab version posted! :)}

warnings || smut, vouyerism, slight asphyxiation, hair pulling, cuckhold, multiple positions, NEEDLE MENTION AT START!! {not smut related}

{an: i stared at this in my ask box and kept thinking of a way to write it,, also just a oneshot, not too long :)}

a small huff releases you as Mr. Silvair injects the needle into your arm, before slowly pulling the tab as blood fills the syringe.

"What do you even need this for anyways?" you ask, staring up at him. he pauses and tilts his head, seemingly confused. "...?" his gaze, or lack there of, set on your face.

"Why, Doing?" you finally say, voice cracking at the foreign language that you still cant get the hang of. he thinks for a second, before shrugging. "Need, Blood. Experiments." he answers, quickly returning to your arm.

well that didnt answer your question..

allowing him to finish his administrations, seemingly pleased with your cooperation, he stands back up. Mr. Silvair makes his way into his experiment room, disappearing for a moment.

Mr. Chopped was seated happily on the couch as always, beckoning you over with his chats. you sit down next to him, gently petting his head and murmuring 'cute' in their language.

chatting conquers for a good while, even as you struggle to remember his language, but manage.

Mr. Silvair emerges from his lab, a fresh coat on. he beckons you closer with a finger, smiling softly when you obey.

"Remove, Clothing" he states matter of fact. pausing, your face heats up with both confusion and embarrassment. "W-What..?" you ask quietly. he stares at you for a second before pointing at your lower abdomen.

"Me touch. Experiment." he hums softly. your face heats up even further, eyes flicking from him to Mr. Chopped who was still seated with a confused expression.

"Me can remove resident. Want?" he asks with a gentle smile as always. it takes a second for you to process his words, and before you can think, you find yourself shaking your head.

"He can stay.." you say with a flushed face. his smile grows wider, pleased at your response. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you gently reach for your clothes, slipping them off with ease.

"Desire, Carry! Desire, Carry!!" Mr. Chopped exclaims with excitement. a low chuckle escapes Mr. Silvair's lips and with gentle hands he picks the head up, placing him closer to the both of you. "Pretty!" he says happily, appraising your naked form.

"Thank you.." you mutter, a small squeak leaving your lips as Mr. Silvair's hands suddenly grip your waist, walking you to the couch and gently pressing you down on it, chest up. his hand drags down your torso, in between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach.

a shiver runs down your spine when his hand gently parts your thighs, exposing your glistening folds to his gaze. the smile on his face curls up even more, and with an experimental touch, he runs a finger in between your lips.

instinctively, your back arches off the couch, a hushed whine leaving your lips. "Interesting." he mutters under his breath. Mr. Chopped couldn't look any happier, excited noises leaving his mouth with every touch Mr. Silvair makes on your needy body. "Turn around." he says, gently patting your thigh with a smile.

obediently, you position yourself on all fours, making your chest hit the couch and your hips in the air. a pleased hum leaves his chest, his gentle yet massive hand caressing your ass.

excited giggles leave Mr. Chopped as expected, but hit a high pitch when Mr. Silvair lays an unexpected yet soft pat to your bottom. "Again!" the head says with a giddy smile. another chuckle leaves Mr. Silvair and he complies, asserting another slap, this time a bit harder.

a shuffling sound can be heard behind you, but a second before you can look back, you feel something poke your entrance.

something big.

he runs his member up and down your slit, collecting the juices dripping from it and using it as a lube of some sort. Mr. Silvair's hands gently grasp you, spreading you for easier access.

pain shoots through your core as he slowly presses himself inside of you, a low grunt leaving his lips in pleasure. "Feels good." he reassures you, leaning down to press his chest against your bare back when he bottoms out.

the cold air of the room you made your senses heighten, but what made it all the more was his cold hands gripping your hips as he laid down shallow thrusts. when he felt your hips push back, he took it as a sign to go faster, quickly picking up the pace with his thrusts. whines and moans left your lips, Mr. Chopped's eyes following your every movement.

"Faster?" Mr. Silvair questions, his hand reaching around to grab the front of your neck, pulling you up some.

tears fall down your face as you nod, blood staining your lip from biting so hard. his hand moves from your neck to your chin, turning your face to the side in a quick kiss, rough due to his intense thrusts. "S-Silvair- fuck- i cant take.. hic.. it-" and while he didnt quite understand your words, he didnt take it as a bad sign. his thrusts only quickened, his hips desperately slapping against your ass.

"Me want see!" Mr. Chopped whines, pouting at his lack of view, mainly only seeing Mr. Silvair's back.

"mmmmghh.." you groan against the couch cushion, yelping at the sudden change of position when Mr. Silvair flips you onto your back.

he slips back in with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder and pressing you down with his hips. "a-ahh- mmmm.." you whine, the pathetic moans leaving your lips seemingly spurring Silvair on.

his hand travels down and rubs furiously on your clit, your hands suddenly shooting out to grab his shoulders, one managing to slip into his hair and tug. he lets out a low groan, his face turning into one of pure pleasure. his hand rubs faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts in effort to make you cum before he does.

with another thrust and a magical finger on your clit, your back arches as far as possible, your orgasm ripping through you like fireworks.

"fuuuuccckk..." a long curse leaves your lips and not long after yours, Silvair's orgasm follows. hot spurts of cum fill you, and in the background you both can hear Mr. Chopped giggling.

you wince as Mr. Silvair pulls his length out, his previous cum dripping out of your well spent hole. he smiles gently down at you, quickly making his way to clean you up. once finished, his hand gently caresses your head. "Again! Again!" Mr. Chopped exclaims, a big smile on his face. both you and Mr. Silvair laugh softly, your tired expression speaking for you. he gently pats your thigh, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"Later."

{an: aughh sorry the end is kind of cheezy, ive been working on this throughout the day,,, 💔}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[lorialia]

⋆ sweet temptation ⋆

pairing: best friend!han jisung x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors dni.

summary: you and your best friend accidentally devour an entire box of sex chocolates while watching a pirated version of the movie ponyo. now you're left to deal with the consequences.

a/n: this came about after i submitted a similar thirst for @daydreams-after-dark 's birthday month event . . . so if you're seeing this, hi :) thanks for the indirect motivation to start a skz blog and post this. i hope you all enjoy ♡

warnings: dom!hanji, sub fem!reader, accidental use of sex chocolates/aphrodisiacs, dry humping, unprotected sex, very messy and wet, creampie, pet names(baby), possessive language, multiple orgasms, technically there's no verbal consent but they're both enthusiastic

"This is bullshit. I swear it is."

“What do you mean?" Jisung says, staring at you accusingly from across the couch. His wispy black hair falls in front of his round glasses, and his fingers reach up to brush it away so he can give you a halfhearted glare. "I put Ponyo in B-tier. That means it's good."

Your nose crinkles in pure disgust, absolute horror at the dingy laptop placed on your best friend’s ottoman. The screen glitches every once in a while, but you see the brightly colored tierlist clear as day. There’s Ponyo—one of your favorite Studio Ghibli movies of all time, a masterpiece of visual art and fairytale storytelling—in B-tier. Middle of the road. Average.

“It deserves better than just good!” You insist, convinced that he has the worst taste on planet Earth. “C’mon. At least put it up a tier.”

“Next to My Neighbor Totoro? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you!”

“Woah woah woah, language,” Jisung replies cheekily, and you grumble, tipping back to sink your head into the cushions of your best friend’s couch. If he even is your best friend after this anyways.

You and Jisung have been hanging out at his apartment for hours, chatting about basically anything and everything. It’s an especially exciting night; his roommate is out visiting family for the weekend, meaning the two of you have the whole place to yourselves.

“Don’t make a mess,” Minho had said through the phone. “I don’t want to clean up once I get back home.”

So far, you’ve had halfhearted success in baking cinnamon rolls, little-to-no success cooking dinner, and full success in ordering barbeque chicken. The kitchen had barely survived through it all, but aside from an occasional utensil on the floor it’s pretty clean.

Aside from your cooking ventures, you two have taken it upon yourselves to rank all the Studio Ghibli movies on a tierlist. Some of his takes surprise you, maybe frustrate you— but none of them fill you with such rage as seeing Ponyo in B-Tier.

“When was the last time you watched this movie?” You ask, almost demand. Jisung pretends to think for a moment; his soft lips pursing together in contemplation.

“Uhh… when I was twelve.”

“Oh for fuck's sake,” You reach over to his laptop and grab it, typing furiously to find a pirated URL for the movie. “We’re watching Ponyo tonight. No buts.”

“Fine,” Jisung says, extending the ‘e’. Out of the corner of your eye you spot him picking up the empty plastic containers of your dinner. He pouts, lips jutting out exaggeratedly when he finds the tins utterly empty. “Aww man, no more food. I’ll go see if there’s any leftovers in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” You idly reply, too busy trying to bypass the stupid ad pop-ups on his computer. You mash a couple of buttons, open and close a few tabs, and boom, you’re in.

Meanwhile, Jisung has gone and returned from the kitchen. In his hands he holds a random box of chocolates that he tosses into your waiting hands. “Found these in the back of the pantry. Probably Minho’s.”

You open the cardboard flap and dig your hand inside, pulling out a rectangle-shaped chocolate wrapped in pretty red tinfoil. You don’t care to read the name—the room is too dimly lit to see anyway—and rip open the package, finding two square chocolates waiting for you.

“Huh,” You comment, holding up the two chocolate pieces. “I’ve never seen chocolates that come in twos before.”

A hand snatches one of the chocolates away and you turn to see Jisung chewing. His adams apple bobs as he swallows. “Mmm, cherry. You should try it.”

You glance at the singular square held between your fingertips, and shrug before popping it in your mouth.

An hour later, you and Jisung are curled up together watching Ponyo. From glances and little remarks here and there, he seems to be enjoying it, and thank god he does. You couldn’t stand seeing Ponyo be misplaced any longer.

During a particularly captivating underwater scene, you reach for the box of chocolates—only to find the insides empty. You blink for a moment, tearing your eyes away from the screen, and realize you and Jisung have eaten them all.

“Aww,” Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but you remove yourself from the pile of blankets to toss the box in the trash. Your best friend remains engrossed in the movie, only shifting to adjust his glasses.

You think to check the brand on the box before you throw it away. It would be nice to get again, after all. The chocolates tasted pretty good—

“Jisung.”

The serious tone of your voice jerks your best friend back into reality, and he hurries to pause the movie. His gaze flickers up to yours with a slight level of concern. “What’s up?”

“These chocolates…” You audibly gulp, and your mind swims from reading the label on the box. “I don’t think these are regular ones.”

“Then what are they?” Jisung crawls over from his side of the couch and leans over your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Weed?”

You point to the packaging. It’s sensually decorated, with elegant lettering and a good number of red hearts littering the front. Right in the center are two words: aphrodisiac chocolate.

Jisung’s eyes bulge wide open and he blinks several times. “Sex chocolate?!”

“Yeah,” You let out a breathless, winded chuckle. Your eyes are equally as wide as his. “How many did we eat?”

Over the next minute, you and Jisung rummage around the couch and collect as many wrappers as you can. With each find, you’re more and more flabbergasted—assuming you two had an equal amount, you can say that you probably had ten to twelve chocolates…each.

“Holy shit,” is the only thing he can say for the next minute. You check the back of the box and discover more lovely news: the recommended amount is one to three squares per person.

There’s silence for the next couple of minutes after that.

The two of you must look so stupid, crouching over copious candy wrappers, dumbfounded by your dual idiocy. What the fuck were you going to do?

Jisung attempts to answer that question in breaking the silence. “So essentially…we’re gonna get super horny.”

“Yeah,” You respond, wincing. “I’m kind of trying not to think about that right now.”

“Well- I mean- You- I- ugh,” Jisung rubs his temples sorely. For once he’s completely serious, no giggles, no jokes. It concerns you as much as it frightens you. “How long until it kicks in?”

“A few hours, it says.”

“Any way to reverse the effects?”

“We already ate the chocolates, Sungie. I don’t think we can get them out.”

“Fuck,” He stares at the empty container. “What are we gonna do then?”

You open your mouth to respond and find it dry. Suddenly you’re hyperaware that in an undisclosed amount of time, both you and your best friend will be incredibly horny. In an apartment together, with no distractions. Just you and him.

You’re tempted to run for the hills. Grab your bag and race home to deal with it all on your own, rather than face this volatile situation and the can of worms that is your undeniable attraction to a man you swore never to date. It feels like the better situation for a split second; enough for you to place one foot on the ground in an effort to stand up from the couch.

Jisung’s head whips up immediately, and the panicked, almost desperate flash in his eyes freezes you in place. It’s almost a plea, a look that stirs something deep in your gut: Please. Don’t go.

You sit back down.

“So…wanna watch the rest of Ponyo?”

By the end of the movie, Jisung moves Ponyo up to A-tier. Normally you’d gloat in his face and criticize his judgmental movie taste—but you can’t seem to get the thought of the chocolates out of your head. It doesn’t help that he's uncomfortably close, his hoodie brushing up against your shoulder with every breath.

He doesn’t say anything as he shuts the laptop, doesn’t look at you as he leans back on the couch. His eyes are distant. Unfocused, dazed like you’ve only seen when he’s dead drunk.

You only need to wonder why for a moment before you notice just how burning hot you are.

Your shirt tightly sticks to you like a vice, and your head fogs like smoke filling the air. The thick pulse in your chest can’t seem to subside, and you feel your skin heat up more with every second that passes.

One sensation rushes in even stronger, an ache from your lower half. Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily, feeling for some sort of relief, any sort of relief. God, you’ve never wanted a dick more in your entire life.

And your best friend happens to be sitting right across from you with one.

Shit. No. You can’t think that way about him; you shouldn’t look. He’s your best friend—but your gaze moves on its own and hones in on the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

You glance upwards. Jisung’s cheeks are flushed. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead. He can’t seem to stop swallowing. His pretty dark eyes are not trained on yours but on the way your thighs press against each other for friction. He stares as if he’s devouring you whole.

“Jisung?” You say softly, your voice almost hoarse in your throat. There is no need to whisper. It’s just you and him, in his apartment together, alone.

“…Yeah?”

“Are you feeling it too?”

Jisung still can’t seem to look you in the eyes. He nods, slowly.

You crawl closer.

“Fuck,” He sputters out breathlessly. His hand reaches up to shakily adjust his glasses. Sweat seems to drip down the side of his face and off his chin. He wipes it away.

You inch closer, and with every shuffle you hear Jisung’s breath grow more ragged. His hands move all over himself— adjusting the gray sweatpants you want to ruin so badly, make a mess all over and cum on, brushing away the same strand of hair over and over. He still can’t seem to look at you.

Finally, you arrive right in front of him. You sit with your legs spread wide, your shorts doing little to cover up the arousal starting to drip down your thigh. Your knees, planted on the couch cushion, brush against his legs. His breath stops.

You reach up and gently grab ahold of his chin. Slowly, you turn his head so he comes face to face with your equally flushed face.

“Oh my god.”

In an instant, Jisung’s lips press against yours; he practically climbs on top of you, pinning you down into the furniture. His arms reach and wrap around whatever he can as he drinks from the taste of your lips in a dizzying rhythm. It’s insistent, messy, desperate. Your mouths move in a tangled dance, hoping each to swallow the other whole.

His fingers find the bottom hem of your shirt and hook underneath it to tug it up. You oblige and revel in each and every touch you can get.

Your shirt is shoved above your breasts, and Jisung doesn't bother to unclasp your bra—opting to move the fabric aside instead. He breaks the kiss to ogle at your bare chest. His eyes are lidded and you swear that his pupils are heart-shaped, and he sighs, almost dreamily. Like he's seen a piece of heaven.

“God, you're fucking beautiful,” He mutters from above you. “I'm sorry, I just can't....”

His words send a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine. Next thing you know, he has his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart so he can slot himself between them.

The friction of his pants against your clothed clit makes you keen—usually you aren't so sensitive, if not for those chocolates. Every sensation seems to be heightened.

"Sungie~" You whimper as Jisung rocks his hips against yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. He leans down to capture your lips in his once more, hungry for the hints of chocolate he tastes.

Everything is sloppy and coordinated; he grinds into you like a bunny in heat, groaning at every bit of friction between his gray sweatpants and your cotton shorts. It's hot and stuffy, but you've never felt so good in your life.

"Feel so good, shit-" Jisung mumbles between messy kisses. His glasses are fogged and hanging half off his nose, but he couldn't care less. "Wanna fuck you so badly- you want that? Want me to fuck you- ah, god~ like you deserve?"

Jisung shoves his head down into your chest, burying himself between your two mounds as he presses up on you from below. He kisses your skin and moves slightly to suckle on your right nipple, making you keen. His soft boba eyes peek out to look up at you, dazed and sick with sticky desire.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, throbs under the way Jisung's clothed cock hits your clit repeatedly. You want him to fuck you so bad, need your best friend's dick to split you open.

"Fuck me please," You beg, your voice trembling and thoughts hazy with lust. You've never begged for a man before, but Jisung is simply different in every way. "Please, Jisung, Sungie, please-"

He audibly groans, as if the sound of your voice gets him any closer to heaven. He wrenches himself away from your cunt to slip down his pants just enough for his thick, veiny cock to slip out. Meanwhile, you can't resist slipping your hand under the waistband of your shorts, to your needy wet cunt. You rub your clit with two of your fingers, whining softly at the stimulation of your swollen bud.

Suddenly, Jisung's hands wrap around the hem of your shorts and panties—he tugs them down all at once, exposing your sobbing pussy to his greedy view. You look up and his eyes are hungry, lidded and clouded with want, zeroed in on your cunt. You think he might be drooling.

Jisung hurries to press his cock against your wetness. He's shaky, almost trembling as he guides his mushroom tip through your folds, his breath coming out in stutters.

Even with just the tip, it's big. You feel like you're split open, and every inch of his cock entering your pussy sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. It doesn't even hurt with how wet it is, and he slides in like warm butter. He practically collapses onto you as soon as he bottoms out, his head buried in your neck.

His cock twitches inside you, and you realize through the haze that Jisung isn't moving. He's whining softly, breathlessly, but his hips do little more than tremble.

"Jisung-"

"Don't," He shushes you. His voice is raspy and desperate, and he mouths at your neck between words. "I-I'm trying not to cum."

You whine, wanting any sort of friction—but Jisung doesn't budge. Then you squirm a little, just to feel it a little more, and both of you let out audible moans. He grabs your hips roughly to hold you in place.

"F-fuck-" He swears, and there's a growl in the back of his throat. "Are you trying to get me to cum inside?"

The idea of his cum filling you up sends a rush through your bones. You inadvertently clench around him, and the grip on your hips becomes so strong it might bruise.

"Y-you want it that bad? Fine then. Fucking take it."

Jisung starts a relentless pace; he groans into your neck and holds your hips down so you take every inch of him with every thrust. His tip brushes up against your cervix sweetly, and you keen, your hands tangling into his black hair.

"You're so wet baby-" He mutters, stamping in a word between rough thrusts. "So. Fucking. Tight. God, bet no one has made you feel this good, huh? Say it."

You can barely find the words, letting punched-out moans every time his cock kisses your cervix. "Y-you're the only one, Ji!"

"That's it," He says, his pace speeding up impossibly faster. He's hardly going in a pattern, just bunny fucking into you like there's no tomorrow. "This pussy belongs to me, doesn't it? All mine~"

Jisung changes his grasp; he gets a hold of your thighs and spreads them so he can fuck you deeper. It's a welcome change—and you remove one hand from his hair to clamp over your mouth, your moans becoming unabashedly noisy. Your eyes squeeze shut and roll back behind your eyelids. "O-oh Jisung, that feels good-"

"Baby, baby please, I gotta cum- gonna cum inside, want that? You want that?" He says, and his hand shakily moves to rub his palm against your clit.

You cry out, about to tip over the edge. You want it more than you've ever wanted anything in your life. "P-please!"

Jisung groans loudly, not bothering to muffle the noise as he cums inside. You cum at the same time, whimpering into his tangled-up hair. His hips stutter but they don't halt; he fucks his cum into you lazily. You whimper at the sensation of his warm cream filling your insides. It's messy and deliciously wet.

"Jisung," You mumble out, still feeling a burning ache. You're addicted to the pull of his cock inside your walls. "I- I want-"

He interrupts you with a groan; then his hips begin to pound into you once more, moaning into the skin of your neck. He simply can't stop, even when you let out a high-pitched cry.

"I'm sorry baby- just had to. Your pussy is sucking me in-" Jisung grunts. His voice is nearly drowned out by the wet squelch of every thrust into your creamy cunt. "Just one more, one more, that's it~"

You feel like you're being folded in half from the way he presses you down, your thighs moving to rest on his shoulders. He ruts into you with reckless abandon, and his hands find themselves digging into the couch on either side of your head.

Jisung lifts his head up so it's right above yours, and you see him for the first time in what feels like ages. His glasses are long gone, and his lips are slightly ajar as he groans senselessly with every thrust. The pinkness of his round cheeks and the lidded pleasure in his eyes matches yours; he leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss.

You moan into his mouth sweetly, and he hums in delight. There's no rhythm to the way he kisses you and fucks you—just pleasure-driven madness, desperation to feel you in every way.

"Mine," He mumbles, almost to himself as he pounds into you desperately. "Gonna cum in you again, fill you up~ my baby, all mine-"

You clench despite the tired ache in your thighs. You want him to cum in you over and over, spill his semen and let him fuck it into you again. You want him completely, irrevocably.

It's this thought that sends you over the edge for a second time; you wail, unable to make out any words as a wave of pleasure washes over you. Jisung messily kisses you throughout, muffling the sounds that escape your lips with his own.

He thrusts a few more times, groaning senselessly into your mouth before finally cumming again. Another warm sensation floods your insides and you sigh in satisfaction.

Jisung crumples onto your body and simply lays limp on top of you. Neither of you can bring yourselves to move.

"Best sex ever." He croaks out with a hoarse voice, and you laugh tiredly.

The next morning, you wake up on the couch. Jisung is laying next to you, his body tangled with yours. He stirs as you shuffle and pull yourself up from the cushions.

"Morning," You whisper, and he responds with a soft hum. His hair is adorably chaotic and worsens as he runs a hand through it. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," He says, and sits up with a groan of pain. "God, my joints. I feel like I blew out my back."

You notice a similar soreness in your thighs, but you tease him regardless. "You old man."

"Shut up," Jisung replies with no real malice. He looks down at you with surprising affection, his boba eyes twinkling with joy. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You say, an amused breath leaving your lips.

"Nothing," He grins cheekily. "Just that I got to have sex with my best friend who I've liked for an entire year."

You blink in shock, and Jisung giggles. "What? You're surprised?"

"No, I mean- yeah," You find yourself stumbling over your words, a pink blush appearing on your cheeks. "I mean, we did fuck yesterday, I just didn't expect you to say it so...bluntly."

"Well I did," Jisung lowers his voice to a soft whisper. He leans in close so his lips nearly brush against yours. "I like you."

"I like you too," You reply bashfully, and you can't resist kissing him. It's slow and saccharine sweet, nothing like the desperate messes you were yesterday. He sighs like a love-struck teenager as you pull away.

"Minho's gonna kill us," He mumbles dreamily. You burst out laughing.

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[strawberrykidneystone]

tonight

sevika x female reader

summary: after a long day, there is nothing like plopping down on the lap of your scary girlfriend

a/n: save me sevika…. SEASON 2 IS SO CLOSE AHHHH

tags: 2nd person, fluff, alcohol, smoking, gambling, poker

ao3 version

after a long day of haggling with customers and delivering orders from your mechanic shop, The Rusty Nail, you needed a break. thankfully, one of Sevika's goons scurried in during the day to drop off a handwritten note from her:

The Last Drop tonight. Stop trying to pay for your own drinks.

-Sev

the note was written on a rough piece of scrap paper and it looked like there was a small heart that was drawn next to her name that had been haphazardly erased, which made you giggle. gently putting the note in a shoe box behind the counter that you kept all of her previous notes in as well, suddenly the day went by much faster with something to look forward to.

trudging into the tavern, you quickly walked over to the wooden bar and leaned your forearms onto the counter. you held up a hand to the bartender and they nodded, knowing your usual without you having to say it. while you didn’t frequent The Last Drop very often, they definitely saw your girlfriend often enough to make note of your order.

and of course, your drinks always went onto sevika’s tab no matter your pushback. oh well, the cost of your drink was quickly stuffed into the tip jar as appreciation.

your drink was set in front of you onto a napkin with a straw stabbed into the ice with a gruffness that was familiar in the undercity. you felt a pair of eyes searing into your back, feeling your girlfriend’s impatience from a mile away.

grabbing the drink and taking a quick sip, you strode over to the dark corner of the bar. like a beacon calling to you, there sat sevika slouched back in her usual creaky chair with a half-way burnt down cigar hanging out of her mouth, telling you how long she’d already been here. she was manspreading and glanced at her cards every so often, an unbothered aura surrounding her even though you knew that she clocked you the moment you stepped inside of the bar.

she had a tell playing cards that you’re pretty sure that only you had noticed. her right eyebrow quirked ever so slightly when she glanced at her cards, you would miss it if you blinked or didn’t know exactly what you were looking for.

that’s why you usually win at cards with sevika.

that and sevika liked letting you win.

the only person that she would let win against her.

you slipped your way through the crowd, keeping a tight hand over the top of your drink as you pushed through the maze of people. sneaking your way over in a very cat-like fluid motion, you stood in between sevika’s legs before perching on her left inner thigh.

sevika’s mechanical arm automatically wrapped around your waist and pulled you further up her thigh, close enough that the side of your torso was touching her chest. you wiggled your hips to adjust properly onto her leg, receiving a warning side-eye from your lover to behave. you leaned forward and checked the cards in her right hand, a perfect royal flush. she squared up her cards and stuck them down the front of your shirt, earning an annoyed look from you. she had a habit of sticking her cards somewhere inside of your clothing, insisting on having her hands free when you came over. it was a pretty full table, so it would be a while until her call anyway.

you set your drink on the floor slightly underneath her chair and leaned into her, resting your head on her metal shoulder. the cool bronze was a welcomed relief from the general body heat that was slightly stuffing up the bar. she ran her hand down your waist and squeezed the squishy flesh of your hip, the pointed tips of her fingers tickling your side.

you ran your hand over her mechanical arm, feeling the tactile textures for any imperfections or places that needed some TLC. finding none, you raked your eyes over her body to look for any new injuries from her own day of work. satisfied that she was completely fine, you pecked her cheek before settling back into her. she hummed in appreciation and reached her mechanical arm down, bringing up her cloak from freely hanging down from her shoulder to resting around your shoulders.

plucking the cigar out of the corner of her mouth, she stubbed out the lit end. you told her that you didn't mind her smoking even when you first met her, yet she still insisted on not smoking around you even as other patrons in the bar created a haze with their own smoking. the scent of nicotine reminded you of her and god she looked hot when she smoked. the two exceptions she made to this "rule" were when you begged her enough to shotgun into your mouth or after a particularly long love-making session, she would lean back against the headboard with one hand resting behind her head, a cigarette in her free hand and you tucked into her side.

one of the new faces at the table laid all of his cards on the table with a grin. the whole table leaned forward to see his hand, it was a perfect flush. sevika smirked and nodded to you, giving a playful tap to your hip. you dug her cards out of your shirt, flourishly sliding the cards on the table one on one. a collective groan came from the table as sevika barked out in laughter, the winning pot of coins being pushed towards her. she cupped your face with one hand and squeezed to make you pucker your lips and roughly pressed her lips to yours in a searing kiss. wrapping your arms around her neck and pushing yourself completely flush against her, chest to chest as you got lost in the kiss, your lips dancing in perfect rhythm.

parting from the kiss, she pressed the tip of her curved nose against yours and made deep eye contact with you, savoring the moment of winning with her favorite girl at her side, her gaze giving you butterflies in your stomach.

"c'mon baby, let's go home," she murmured and landed a playful smack on your ass, earning a squeak of shock from you. she held out her flesh hand to help you up, which you happily took and stood with her clock still hugging your shoulders. she stood up with a grunt and grabbed the bag of coins off of the table, tucking it into her side. she curled her around your waist and walked with you out of the bar and into the cool night with her winnings and the love of her life.

a/n: uppercase letters??? in my fanfic??? who am i

[beardysuits]

Closer to Dad pt 2

Part 1 found here

I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.

Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist. 

Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight. 

“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.

“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height. 

“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me. 

“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again. 

“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today. 

Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste. 

“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one. 

“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in. 

It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled. 

As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge. 

“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard. 

I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me. 

“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days. 

“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different. 

I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me. 

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate. 

“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build. 

“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can. 

“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me. 

“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer. 

“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.

“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it. 

“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”. 

Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel. 

“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible. 

“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.” 

Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink. 

“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered. 

“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”

I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that. 

“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.

“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer. 

“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee. 

“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground. 

I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age. 

“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase. 

“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.

“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked. 

“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”. 

I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so… sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk. 

Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy! 

“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique. 

“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me. 

I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling. 

He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released. 

He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists. 

“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits. 

“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him. 

“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily. 

“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all. 

I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast. 

I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth. 

He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him. 

I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively. 

“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white. 

“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.

“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy. 

“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest. 

“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself. 

“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp. 

“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh. 

I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva. 

I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial. 

Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body. 

It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity. 

I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside. 

I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward. 

It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath. 

Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself. 

Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding. 

I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body. 

NSFW version found here

From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming. 

“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking. 

I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs. 

It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps. 

--------------------------------

A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.

Thank you all!

[aeth-eris]

★ the physical essence of venus ★

★  aries  venus  ★ the  scarred  helmet  hanging  on  the  back  of  your  door  that  you  won’t  replace,  even  though  it’s  scratched  beyond  repair,  because  it’s  been  with  you  through  every  wild  decision  you’ve  made.  the  sneakers  at  your  front  door,  caked  with  mud  from  an  impulsive  hike  you  dragged  your  friends  on  last  spring—still  laced  tightly,  ready  to  go  at  a  moment’s  notice.  your  jacket  pockets  always  seem  to  hold  something  random—keys,  an  old  receipt,  or  a  coin  you  found  that  felt  like  it  could  bring  good  luck,  though  you’d  never  admit  it.  even  your  wallet  looks  battle-worn,  stuffed  with  notes  you’ll  never  throw  out  because  they’re  pieces  of  a  past  that  make  you  feel  alive  when  you  touch  them.

 ★  taurus  venus  ★ the  candle  on  your  bedside  table,  burned  just  enough  to  release  the  scent  of  wildflowers  but  still  pristine,  because  you’re  saving  it  for  “when  it  feels  right.”  the  blanket  on  your  couch  is  perfectly  folded,  even  though  you  use  it  every  day,  its  edges  slightly  frayed  because  it’s  older  than  you’d  care  to  admit.  your  collection  of  tea  blends  isn’t  about  drinking  them—it’s  about  the  ritual  of  opening  the  tin,  inhaling  the  scent,  and  deciding  what  fits  your  mood  that  day.  even  the  wooden  cutting  board  in  your  kitchen  feels  sacred,  smoothed  from  years  of  careful  use,  holding  the  quiet  memories  of  meals  shared  with  people  who  make  your  world  feel  steady.

 ★  gemini  venus  ★ the  pen  you  always  lose  but  somehow  manage  to  find  at  the  exact  moment  you  need  it,  its  cap  chewed  and  its  ink  running  dry  because  you  use  it  for  everything—doodles,  random  notes,  grocery  lists,  and  the  occasional  half-baked  love  letter.  your  phone  case  has  a  faint  crack  from  being  tossed  on  a  table  during  an  animated  conversation,  and  there’s  a  tiny  keychain  charm  dangling  from  it  that  you  picked  up  during  a  trip  you  can  barely  remember.  your  desk  is  a  mess  of  brightly  colored  sticky  notes,  most  of  which  have  cryptic  one-liners  that  no  longer  make  sense,  but  you  refuse  to  throw  them  away  because  they  “might  mean  something  someday.”

 ★  cancer  venus  ★ the  slightly  faded  Polaroid  stuck  to  your  fridge  of  a  moment  you’ll  never  stop  replaying  in  your  mind,  its  corners  curling  just  enough  to  show  its  age.  the  quilt  on  your  bed,  soft  with  time,  smells  faintly  of  lavender  and  home,  even  when  you’ve  been  away  for  too  long.  your  jewelry  box  holds  treasures  you  don’t  wear  but  can’t  let  go  of—a  broken  bracelet,  a  ring  from  someone  you  loved,  or  a  single  earring  that’s  lost  its  match  but  not  its  meaning.  there’s  a  jar  of  seashells  on  your  windowsill,  each  one  tied  to  a  memory  you  can’t  explain  but  would  defend  if  anyone  tried  to  move  it.

 ★  leo  venus  ★ the  golden  compact  mirror  in  your  bag  that  you  flip  open  with  a  dramatic  flourish,  even  when  you  don’t  need  to  use  it.  your  favorite  jacket,  velvet  or  sequined,  hangs  at  the  front  of  your  closet,  waiting  for  its  next  moment  in  the  spotlight,  no  matter  how  rare.  you  keep  a  framed  photo  of  yourself  from  that  one  perfect  night,  sitting  prominently  where  you  can  see  it  and  be  reminded  of  your  glow.  even  your  perfume  bottle  looks  like  art—half-full  because  you  save  it  for  moments  when  you  want  the  world  to  remember  you  by  its  scent.

 ★  virgo  venus  ★ the  planner  on  your  desk  is  immaculate,  with  color-coded  tabs  and  neat  handwriting  that  looks  like  it  belongs  in  a  design  catalog.  your  favorite  pen  is  a  gel  pen  with  just  the  right  flow—you  buy  them  in  bulk  because  losing  one  feels  like  losing  a  limb.  your  kitchen  has  a  perfectly  organized  spice  rack,  alphabetized  not  out  of  compulsion  but  because  it  just  makes  sense.  even  your  plants  thrive  in  an  oddly  perfect  way;  they’re  pruned  regularly,  sitting  in  matching  pots,  as  if  they’ve  agreed  to  reflect  your  careful  attention  to  detail.

 ★  libra  venus  ★ the  antique  hand  mirror  on  your  vanity,  slightly  tarnished  but  impossibly  elegant,  next  to  a  bottle  of  rose-scented  perfume  that’s  more  art  than  utility.  your  coffee  table  has  a  stack  of  perfectly  arranged  art  books  that  you  flip  through  during  lazy  afternoons,  marveling  at  the  balance  of  beauty  and  creativity.  your  wardrobe  holds  a  silk  scarf  or  pair  of  perfectly  pointed  flats  that  you  wear  when  you  want  to  feel  effortlessly  polished.  even  your  favorite  mug  has  an  air  of  charm—delicate,  with  a  tiny  chip  that  only  makes  it  more  perfect  in  your  eyes.

 ★  scorpio  venus  ★ the  leather-bound  journal  hidden  in  a  drawer,  its  pages  filled  with  raw,  unfiltered  emotions  you  wouldn’t  dare  share  aloud.  the  black  candle  on  your  nightstand,  burned  down  just  enough  to  release  its  smoky,  mysterious  scent,  but  not  finished,  as  if  waiting  for  the  right  moment.  your  ring  drawer  holds  a  piece  you  never  wear  anymore,  but  every  time  you  pick  it  up,  the  memories  it  holds  flood  back  so  vividly  it  takes  your  breath  away.  even  your  favorite  book  has  underlined  passages  that  feel  like  secrets  only  you  could  understand,  the  kind  you  re-read  when  you  need  to  feel  seen.

 ★  sagittarius  venus  ★ the  worn  leather  backpack  leaning  by  your  door,  its  zippers  jingling  faintly  every  time  you  grab  it  to  head  out.  your  passport  is  scuffed,  its  pages  stamped  with  memories  that  still  bring  a  grin  to  your  face  when  you  flip  through  them.  you  keep  a  jar  of  foreign  coins  from  places  you’ve  been,  not  for  their  value  but  because  they  remind  you  of  café  conversations,  train  rides,  and  sunsets  you  swore  you’d  never  forget.  even  your  favorite  shoes  are  battered  from  countless  adventures,  soles  worn  thin  but  still  too  full  of  life  to  be  replaced.

 ★  capricorn  venus  ★ your  desk  holds  a  fountain  pen,  heavy  in  your  hand,  its  ink  flowing  with  precision  as  you  jot  down  plans  that  matter.  the  watch  on  your  wrist  is  timeless—its  leather  strap  softened  with  wear,  a  quiet  symbol  of  discipline  and  style.  your  planner  is  sleek,  every  page  carefully  filled  with  tasks  and  goals,  because  each  moment  of  time  feels  like  an  investment.  even  your  scarf  is  understated  and  elegant,  folded  neatly  by  the  door,  ready  to  shield  you  from  the  chill  as  you  head  out  into  the  world  you’re  steadily  building.

 ★  aquarius  venus  ★ the  slightly  offbeat  earrings  you  wear  almost  daily,  their  mismatched  charm  drawing  compliments  wherever  you  go.  your  favorite  gadget—a  smart  device,  a  quirky  invention,  or  something  DIY—sits  proudly  on  your  desk,  a  blend  of  utility  and  rebellion  against  the  ordinary.  your  coffee  table  holds  an  art  book  or  zine  from  an  obscure  creator  you  discovered  before  anyone  else  did.  even  your  favorite  lamp  is  asymmetrical  or  futuristic,  casting  light  in  ways  that  feel  just  unconventional  enough  to  reflect  your  unique  vision  of  the  world.

 ★  pisces  venus  ★ the  candle  on  your  desk  smells  like  sea  salt  and  mystery,  burned  down  to  a  waxy  puddle  but  kept  because  it  reminds  you  of  a  fleeting,  perfect  moment.  your  dream  journal  sits  beside  your  bed,  pages  filled  with  poetry  and  fragmented  thoughts  you’ve  scrawled  in  the  dark,  barely  legible  but  emotionally  potent.  you  keep  a  jar  of  glitter  on  your  shelf—not  for  any  practical  purpose,  but  because  it  catches  the  light  like  magic.  even  your  blanket,  impossibly  soft  and  slightly  worn  at  the  edges,  feels  like  a  portal  to  the  dreamscape  you  create  every  time  you  wrap  yourself  in  it.

★ book a reading ★ ★ masterlist 1 ★ ★ masterlist 2 ★

[riaki]

thinkibg ab racer!wriothesley like those boxing aus except u wear his racing jackets n ur constantly hang out in his car after races… racer!wrio whos always looking for u in the stands; who, after crossing that checkered line, gets out of his car and takes his helmet off, shaking his hair damp with sweat and mussing the dark strands with one hand. who’s always nicking the sleeve of the glove with his teeth to pull it off instead of using his hands like he’s been told to before, just because he knows u like it.

racer!wrio who's bombarded w/ questions as soon as he steps off the track; flashing lights and mics to his lips— all demanding to know what it’s like to be a racing champion and who you are. and all he does is hook an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and call you ‘his girl’. you’re usually not public with it, but his cologne smells more intoxicating than usual today, so who’s complaining? plus, his habit of rubbing the dip in your shoulder just above your collarbone has a way of distracting u from all else.

and whenever he can afford it, he’ll always be taking u out— a drinking night on his tab, or a fresh bouquet of flowers in his hand with your name on a tag, or a pretty bottle of perfume that’s a little too expensive for your comfort. but everytime u approach him ab it, he just brushes you off with a slow, distracting kiss on your skin and smoothly changing the topic. he’ll be the one to wear the stress lines, not you.

racer!wrio, who gets injured from a dirty play during the race; who lets you undress him and tend to his wounds, giving you a sharp smile when you run your fingers over the scar on his collar. he’d never tell you, but the rush he gets from the race is nothing compared to the cold thrill of your touch. you’ve got him hook, line, and sinker, and the adrenaline junkie’s perfectly content to be a sitting duck. racer!wrio, who forces u to read the fanmail he receives and laughs when you accuse him of torturing you when, in reality, he thinks you’re the cutest when you’re jealous, and he just loves to hear the romantic gush in your pretty voice. he's absolutely whipped

[morbethgames]

NEW UPDATE IS OUT!

I’M FREE! FREEEEEE! 32 MOSTLY UNIQUE VARIATIONS OF INTIMATE SCENES DONE!

Clears throat

So, like stated above, the update is out! I’ll leave a list of patch notes, but this is majorly a bigger one for Alzarez and Lance romancers. The Lance extra story “Movie and Dessert” is being released with this update. You will need to replay the game. I’m sorry about that. BUT it’s because I added in new variables to the train scene so that stuff said there could possibly be brought up in this new scene! Reactivity, yay!

Along with that, you’ll get to read Alvarez’s flashback scene which is the actual end of Chapter 4. Along with a lot of little goodies. All in all, there was about… 44k-45k words added into this update? 40k of them are entirely optional and only happen if you choose to hang out with Lance after Alvarez’s flashback scene scene.

Not gonna lie, 1 variation in I was confident it would take two weeks. 8 variations in I was a bit tired but still energized to get this scene done. 16 variations in I had to step away for a couple of days to not let my brain melt. By the time I hit mid-twenties in variation for this scene, I was finding myself thinking that it just. wasn’t. worth it.

I have no idea if I’ll make the other intimate scenes this branching. It was honestly a lot of work. Like, a lot, it it was so fatiguing after a while, but I knew I had to get it done. IT’s also the reason I paused my patreon this month, because it wouldn’t be fair to charge people for something that they’re not getting early as promised in the rewards. This took way longer than I thought, so I wanted to just release it to everyone at once.

I do hope you guys enjoy it, and without further ado, here are the patch notes for this update.

Stay Brilliant, -Vi

Patch Notes:

“Movie and Dessert” Lance Extra Scene is finished.

Alvarez Flashback scene is finished.

Added a Text Box Investigation Tab in the Stats Screen.

You are now able to toggle between Text Box Investigations and regular choice script gameplay for TBI sequences.

You can now view the Text Box Investigation tutorial at any time via the stats screen.

Removed the Text Box Investigation Tutorial from chapter 4.

Added an option in the beginning of the game to Fade To Black during intimate scenes.

You can now pick asexual and aromantic as separate options, and they are not tied to each other.

Grammar edits and fixes (thank you to all who report them).

🛡️Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

[angelicsjn]

how would yanderes react if reader broke up with them? Like completely moved their stuff out and blocked them etc

YOUR SEVEN YANDERES.

A N: Hey, hey. I'm going through all my old requests first, so newer ones will be posted last. I want to hopefully get rid of all the old requests!

A B O U T: You leave the boys.

W A R N I N G S: Angst, the boys being their usual stalkerish and obsessive selves, Jae being Jae... the usual.

— ROMAN BEAUREGARD.

For a second, Roman feels at a loss. His entire life is perfect. Why would you ruin it? Your whole life was made just by being on his arm. Why sacrifice a life of comfort?

He expects you to come back for the first few days, keeping his usual tabs on you, and when he realises that you're happier without him; he's distraught.

How can you live as if you never met? Free and smiling? Why don't you feel how he does?

He keeps his cool. Of course, he does. He doesn't mind going back to square one. He's perfected the definition of patience, and he has it. He will use it.

He will leave you alone, create a false sense of freedom, and slowly come back into your life acting as if nothing ever happened, and since time has passed, you think, "maybe things can be different this time?" Because he seems different.

He's just a good actor. You should have remembered that.

— LATEN REED.

Laten is genuinely devastated. He doesn't understand why. Did you find his little box of memories? No way. He hid it too well.

Was he too much? Too touchy? Too talkative? Did his friends annoy you?

He questions everything in his head until it goes numb.

When he sees you on campus smiling and hanging out with your friends, like you didn't up and leave him, he feels like he's going to go insane.

"Why did you do it?" He asks you, his voice dead against the night sky as you hurry your way back to your place.

Honestly, it's kind of scary. Just you two, in the dark, his huge body and glittering eyes as he pins you down with just his words.

He won't let you leave until you speak. Actually, no. He won't let you leave at all.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

"The fucking audacity." Is all he says before quite literally trashing the place.

He's pissed off, beyond pissed off. In that moment, he doesn't give a fuck about his idol image.

He will post indirects. Mask himself up and stalk the streets to find you.

He sees you at a club, reconnecting with your friends after months of nothing — thanks to him.

As your friends slink away to get more drinks, he slides into the booth, "what the fuck are you doing?"

You can run, but you can't hide. You can't tell anyone, even if you do, nobody will believe you.

He's NIKO. He can do no wrong.

— KAIDAN WOLFE.

Kaidan will wait for you until it the fans notice your absence. When he reads the comments of a potential breakup, it sinks in.

He messages your friends and family, they love him. He's the sweetest guy ever. They feel bad for him.

You're in the wrong. How dare you just... leave? He did everything for you. You were everywhere to him. You ARE everything to him.

He and your family pretty much guilt trip you into going back to him...

"Awh, y/n, I'm so glad you're with him, still. He's perfect for you." They don't even see the obsession behind his pretty eyes.

— HAYDEN WEST.

There's actually no logical reason to leave someone like Hayden. But he believes otherwise.

There's better looking, funnier, smarter, taller, and generally just better guys.

Of course you'd leave. He expected it at some point, no matter how hard he'd try. Fuck, he'd even start going to the gym for you.

This man doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. Nothing. He's genuinely heartbroken.

Out of all of the yanderes, he's the most realistic and upset. He doesn't even want to see how you're doing without him.

Honestly, you'd go back to him on your own accord because you actually miss being around him.

— JOSHUA WHITE.

Joshua believes that God will reward him with your presence again — in fact, the man prays on it.

Maybe you need a break. A place to breathe. He understands. Life is hard and confusing.

He watches over you at all times, it's okay. He knows you'll come back.

He will leave 'signs' around for you, just little things to slightly drive you insane.

At first, it's, 'Oh. That's Joshua's favourite drink.' To, 'Okay. This is weird.'

When he sees your eyes lock onto his, he knows that his prayers have been answered.

He's calm in this situation. He knows that you are for him. Only him.

— BLAKE CROSS.

"What the.." He mumbles, looking around the villa. You're gone. Like. Gone.

And fuck, is this man angry.

"They took everything, dad! Fucking everything!" He shouts down the phone, his dad on the other end. "Tell Lawson to find their last whereabouts, send it right over."

This man will follow you to the ends of the literal earth, literally. He will not give up. He's relentless.

But he's so sweet with it. He's so convincing. A sweet smile with his dimples, his eyes big and adoring, "Come on. One chance. Let's go to Monaco, just us. You know how much I love you."

You ended up having the best weekend of your life. He made sure of it. You're never leaving him. <3

[zevrra]

JJK.3

synopsis: random hc’s for the men of jjk; college/frat boy edition!

tags: 21(+) only, tw for drinking/being drunk, age gap, some aged up characters, modern au, college au, jjk headcanons, all sfw, short & sweet, ask box open, jjk x reader

creator’s notes: i plan to turn all of this into a multi-chapter series so give me some ideas for what the “mc”(reader) should be! or just overall drop some ideas for it in my ask box that would be cool :3

CHOSO—

forensics major with a minor in chemistry and music

only knows gojo, geto, and nanami through volleyball

supports the team solely bc his freshman brother, yuji, plays

is not in the frat but gets invited to every party

also because he's the best dj any of them know

doodles on himself with a pen

has all the piercings

his ears are decked out with mostly studs

has a right eyebrow piercing, bridge, septum, and snake bites

probably has his nipples pierced too (he lost a dare)

hangs out with geto so they can share nail polish when he paints his nails

is the quiet one at parties who's awkwardly sitting on the couch while he sips his drink

once he's drunk he's entirely different, way more open and talkative

would talk your ear off about music if you let him

or the several different ways blood can splatter and how it'll never look the same twice

is a LIGHT WEIGHT!!

sleeper build

is an alt/grunge boy through and through

is a drummer!

TOJI—

is the frat's “overseer” and the volleyball coach

is actually a decent coach but really he just got lucky to have a great team that makes him look better than he is

gets noise complaints all the time about the frat

does not care, he's at the parties too

is a horrible, horrible influence

probably acts more like a bouncer than anything

provides the alcohol

does not let a single soul under 21 in though

is the hot dad every girl wants

sweatpants and tight shirts all day everyday

has beef with gojo

only because gojo ends up damaging the house and getting into wayyy too much trouble

takes everyone out to eat after games, has too many beers, puts the tab solely on gojo and dips

is a very, very handsy drunk

has to be watched at parties when he gets too drunk cause he’ll hit on all the girls

NANAMI—

a business major with a minor in biology, hopes to open his own small time clinic one day

plays on the male volleyball team, is a middle blocker

works out all the time, has a schedule for everything

is known for his "dark academia" style

hates large parties

the only reason he's ever at a party is because he was dragged there by gojo and geto

you can find him in the other room petting the dog

doesn't drink a lot at parties, will maybe have one if he's in the mood

is the rightful dd!!

literally the only voice of reason

always gets you your fav food after parties when he knows you're a little tipsy

would 1,000% rather be home reading

if he ever gets drunk, has to be inside his own home

he's a sleepy, "admits to everything" drunk

you've strictly forbidden gojo from being anywhere near nanami when he's drunk

probably in charge of all snacks for any party

considers gojo a friend but not a friend you’d invite to your wedding

would invite choso to the wedding though

is def saving himself for “the one”

GETO—

double major in psychology & philosophy, has a minor in art(sculpting)

doesn't do any sports but goes to every one of his friend's volleyball games

he and gojo 100% have matching tongue piercings

contacts during the day, wears reading glasses at night

wears nothing but baggy, oversized clothes

def has a streetwear aesthetic

sleeper build 2.0

is an orphan but was adopted into a very well off family

got into college solely on scholarships though

has known, and been best friends, with gojo since childhood

can drink gallos of alcohol and hardly feel tipsy at all like he’s a heavy weight!!

can out drink anyone, even toji

a flirty, flirty drunk

bi king!!!

participated in an orgy once

has the highest body count out of all the men (besides toji ofc)

an instigator especially when it comes to gojo

gojo and him are in charge of inviting people to the parties

also has his nipples pierced but no one knows, not even gojo

covered in tattoos, def has a throat tattoo along with full sleeves and even some on his thighs

him and choso hang out just to paint their nails and drink tea together!!

GOJO—

majors in astrophysics, minors in astromath

plays on the same team as nanami, is a setter/spiker combo

still is addicted t to sweets

has to have sweets to study

is 50% jock and 50% nerd

thinks math and science is so cool

has a matching tongue ring with geto

has a style that screams "old money" (he def came from old money tho)

def think he could pull a “surfer” style off too

a nepo baby too

a horrible influence especially when he’s drunk

“I’ll give you $20 to break this antique vase.”

when he gets drunk-drunk he is just as flirty as geto but is a little more shy

tipsy gojo, talkative, flirty, comedian!! runs all over the place, makes friends easily

absolutely drunk gojo, timid, gets quiet and watches everything and everyone, would 100% tell you in a quiet voice that he loves you before he HIDES

not a light weight at all he just constantly goes over his limit to end up black out drunk

turns bright, bright red as soon as alcohol hits his system

questioning bi!! (experimented with geto once when they were younger)

lost a dare and had to get a horrible tattoo on his ass

the tattoo is squid doodle from spongebob but really badly drawn because a friend def did it

[fa1rydr3ams]

“Holiday Wars”

Submissive Loki Laufeyson x Dom Gn! Reader

| cw: nsfw, humor, mild language, enemies-to-lovers tension

| a/n: day 19 of ficmas check the ficmas tab on the pixie list for the next update!

| wc: n/a

The moment you stepped into the main floor of Stark Tower, you could feel the tension thick enough to rival the snowstorm raging outside. Strings of half-hung lights dangled precariously from the ceiling, and boxes of ornaments were scattered across the room like abandoned chess pieces in a game you weren’t winning. Loki stood in the middle of the chaos, arms folded, his sharp features set in an expression of pure disdain.

“You call this festive?” he drawled, his British lilt dripping with derision as he gestured at the half-decorated room. “It looks like a reindeer vomited on the walls.”

“And yet you’re the one standing there doing absolutely nothing to fix it,” you shot back, dropping the box of decorations you’d been hauling onto the nearest table. You rolled your shoulders, already exhausted, though it wasn’t from the decorating. Babysitting Loki was more draining than fighting off an alien invasion.

He smirked, the kind that made you want to hurl a candy cane at his stupidly perfect face. “I wasn’t aware that babysitting included manual labor. Though I must say, you do look fetching covered in tinsel.”

You glanced down at the stray strand of gold tinsel clinging to your sweater and brushed it off with a scowl. “If I wanted sass, I’d hang out with Tony,” you muttered. “Now, are you actually going to help, or are you just going to stand there and critique my hard work?”

Loki arched a brow, his pale green eyes glittering with amusement. “Why would I sully my hands with such trivialities when you seem so adept at it?”

The audacity of this man. You closed the distance between the two of you, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, heat prickling at the base of your neck. “You’re on house arrest, Laufeyson. You don’t exactly have the luxury of picking and choosing your duties.”

“I am hardly a servant,” he replied, the haughty tone of a prince slipping into his words. “And I have no intention of wasting my divine talents on—”

“Divine talents?” you interrupted, snorting. “You’ve been stuck here for weeks, and the only thing you’ve managed to do is annoy the hell out of everyone.”

His smirk widened. “A skill I’ve perfected, wouldn’t you agree?”

For a brief moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent battle, the twinkling lights around you casting playful shadows on his annoyingly sharp cheekbones. The air between you was charged, not unlike the static that zaps your fingertips when handling too much tinsel. And maybe, just maybe, there was something more simmering beneath the irritation.

“Fine,” you said, breaking the silence with an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re not going to help, you can at least hand me the ornaments while I fix your disaster of a garland.”

“Ordering me around now, are we?” he mused, taking a leisurely step closer. His voice dipped slightly, rich with suggestion. “I wonder what else you think you can command of me.”

You refused to give him the satisfaction of blushing, though his words sent a shiver down your spine. Plucking an ornament from the table, you shoved it into his hands. “Start with this. Then we’ll see how useful you really are.”

He leaned in, his lips quirking at the corners, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh, I assure you, darling. I can be very… useful.”

Your breath hitched, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. But you weren’t about to let Loki win this little game. Not yet.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to back down from the sultry edge in his voice or the spark dancing in his eyes. Instead, you smirked, stepping even closer until you were nearly toe-to-toe with him.

“Is that so?” you said, your tone light and teasing as you reached up and looped the end of a stray ribbon dangling from his collar around your finger. You gave it a playful tug, forcing him to dip his head just slightly. “Then prove it.”

Loki’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second—just enough for you to see the flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance. “You truly are a tyrant, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Takes one to know one,” you replied, releasing the ribbon with a flick of your wrist. You stepped around him, brushing your shoulder against his arm as you went. “Now, hang the damn ornament.”

You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching you. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, the weight of it sending a thrill through you that you tried very hard to ignore. Loki Laufeyson might be infuriating, but he was also intoxicating in the worst way possible.

You busied yourself with the garland, trying to focus on fluffing the greenery and securing the strands that had come loose. But the sound of his footsteps behind you, slow and deliberate, made your hands falter.

“You know,” he said, his voice dangerously close to your ear, “I never thought mortal holidays could be so… stimulating.”

The way he said the word made your stomach flip. You turned your head slightly, finding him much closer than you expected, his breath warm against your skin.

“Careful, Loki,” you warned, though your voice lacked the bite you intended. “You might actually start enjoying yourself.”

He chuckled, low and rich, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I think I already am.”

The tension between you crackled like a yule log in the fire, and you knew you were walking a razor-thin line. Still, you couldn’t help but lean into it, just a little. Maybe it was the holiday spirit—or maybe it was the way his smirk softened ever so slightly when you met his gaze.

“You missed a spot,” you murmured, pointing to a bare patch of garland just above his shoulder.

“Did I?” he replied, but he made no move to step away.

“Mm-hmm.” You tilted your head, eyes locking with his as a daring smile curved your lips. “Guess you’ll have to fix it.”

The room felt too warm all of a sudden, the faint hum of Christmas music in the background fading as the space between you grew smaller.

As Loki's eyes sparkled with mischief, he slowly raised his hands, his fingers brushing against the garland. "I suppose I have no choice but to rectify this situation," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his breath dancing across your skin.

With a deliberate slowness, he began to weave the garland around the banister, his hands moving with an oddly sensual precision that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but notice the way his fingers stroked the greenery, the gentle tug of the ribbon as he secured it in place.

The air was thick with tension, the silence between you punctuated only by the soft rustle of the garland and the distant sound of holiday music. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the blue seeming to darken.

Loki's gaze never wavered, his eyes holding yours captive as he stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing. You could feel the warmth of his body, the whisper of his breath on your skin, and your pulse began to pound in your veins like a drum.

The room seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a world of sparkling lights and forbidden desire. And as Loki's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, you knew that this holiday decorating was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

As Loki's hand touched yours, a spark of electricity ran through your body, and you felt your heart skip a beat. The garland, once the focus of your attention, was now forgotten, dangling limply from the banister as you both stood there motionless.

You held Loki's gaze, your eyes locked onto his, as you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding him in place. His eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and anticipation, but he tried to pull away, a faint pout forming on his lips.

"Let me go," he said, his voice low and petulant, but his eyes betrayed him, flashing with a hint of excitement. You didn't release your grip, instead, you tugged him closer, your fingers tightening around his wrist.

"I think we've decorated enough for one day," you said, your voice low as you leaned in, your breath whispering against his ear. Loki's eyes rolled back, his eyelids fluttering closed, and he let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing into yours.

But as your lips brushed against his, he jerked back, his eyes snapping open, a look of mock indignation on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of annoyance and desire.

You just smiled, your lips curling up in a small grin, and pulled him back in, your tongue probing deeper into his mouth. Loki's body responded, his hands coming up to push against your chest, but his fingers curled into your shirt, holding on instead of pushing away.

As you deepened the kiss, Loki's eyes fluttered closed, his body melting into yours, his lips parting to allow your tongue to explore his mouth. But even as he surrendered to the kiss, he still tried to maintain a semblance of control, his hands gripping your shirt, his fingers digging into your skin.

You could feel the tension in his body, the conflicting desires warring within him, and you knew that he was torn between wanting to resist and wanting to give in. But as the kiss grew more intense, Loki's resistance began to crumble, his body relaxing into yours, his lips softening, his tongue tangling with yours in a sensual dance.

As you broke apart for a moment, gasping for air, Loki's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze burning with a fierce desire, but his lips still curled into a pout. "I didn't want to do that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but his eyes told a different story.

You smiled, a low, husky laugh escaping your lips as you gazed into Loki's eyes. "Is that true?" you teased, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your mouth certainly didn't make it seem that way." You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "It seemed like you were enjoying yourself, like you couldn't get enough."

Loki's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desire, his face inches from yours. "Shut up," he muttered, his voice low and rough, but his body betrayed him, leaning in closer, his lips almost touching yours.

You chuckled, a soft, seductive sound, and Loki's eyes seemed to glaze over, his pupils dilating as he gazed into yours. You could see the conflict within him, the war between his desire for control and his desire for surrender. And you knew that you were winning, that he was slowly giving in to his desires.

Without another word, you leaned in, your lips capturing his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Loki's resistance crumbled, his body melting into yours, his lips softening, his tongue tangling with yours in a sensual dance. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. Loki gave in, completely and utterly, his body surrendering to yours, his lips, his tongue, his every fiber responding to your touch.

As you broke apart, gasping for air, Loki's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with a fierce, unspoken desire. You could see the surrender in his eyes, the acceptance of his own desires, and it only fueled your own passion.

Without a word, you took Loki's hand, pulling him towards the couch. He followed, his eyes never leaving yours, his body seeming to move of its own accord. You pushed him down onto the couch, his back against the cushions, and then you sat down on his lap, straddling him with your legs.

Loki's eyes flashed with surprise, but then his gaze dropped to your lips, and he seemed to forget all about his surroundings. His hands came up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heat, his desire, and it only made you want him more.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "You're so cute like this," you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

Loki's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and desire, but he didn't push you away. Instead, he seemed to melt into your touch, his body relaxing into yours. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

You smiled, a slow, inviting smile, and then leaned in, your lips capturing his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Loki's body arched up, his hips pressing against yours, and you could feel the desire building between you, a desire that threatened to consume you both.

As you kissed, you could feel Loki's hands moving, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, the swell of your hips. You could feel his need, and thought he wouldn’t admit it, he wanted you. You were lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of Loki's body beneath yours, lost in the taste of his lips, the feel of his skin.

You pulled away one last time, your hand pulling through his long black hair, looking directly into his eyes. He looked between each eye, his gaze darting back and forth, and you could see him trying to focus his attention. For a moment, you just stared at each other, the only sound the heavy breathing and the pounding of your hearts.

Loki's eyes were glazed, his pupils dilated, and his face was flushed with desire. You could see the desire written all over his face, the need, the want, the surrender. And in that moment, you knew that you had him, completely and utterly.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, and whispered, "Good job, Loki." The words sent a shiver down his spine, and he smiled goofily, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the energy, and anticipation in his eyes.

suggestions for other fandoms I should write for after ficmas is over?

dividers by @anitalenia !

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: athena settles debts (pt 4)

WC: 898

synopsis: what if Mav's daughter settled his tab that night in the hard deck

main masterlist

athena-verse masterlist

a/n: this was brought on as i rewatched top gun maverick again, because i love it. and even though i should be finishing the last update of season 1 for codename: nightingale (which is only missing the final fight btw its almost done!!!) i took a little brain rot break. also top gun's been officially added to my masterlist!

You'd heard the jukebox get pulled and then the piano, and you couldn't move. Even when Phoenix tried to convince you to join her by the piano. You watched as Hangman and Coyote stayed with a few others by the pool tables at first, but even they started wandering over eventually.

Hangman, however, moved slow. He lingered by you first, saddling up beside the table. And ehen he realized your gaze was going to stay focused on your beer's label, where your fingers were slowly peeling it off the bottle, he knocked on the table. A look far more gentle than you'd anticipate in such a public place crossed his face as your eyes met his.

" 'Thena?" he calls your callsign with a softness that you know is real, and your lips tug down at the thought of having to lie to him when he's being so open with you.

Before you can say anything else before he can ask more, Penny rings the bell again, and chants of "overboard" can be heard. Saved by the bell, literally.

"Go," you nod. "Penny beckons," you tease softly, forcing your lips to turn up.

He nods, and both Payback and Coyote go with him.

When you follow them with your gaze, you meet your dad's eyes, and when the three younger pilots take up positions, boxing him in, a small quirk of a smirk curls at your lips, because it would be him. He seems to catch your eye just in time and offers up a half smile in response. You watch as Penny gives a nod, her head jerking toward the door. Then the three hoist your dad up in their arms and carry him, before throwing him out, a small amused smile now on your lips, as you make a note to stop by the Kazansky house tomorrow, Ice would love to hear about this.

You're so focused that you miss the first few notes. It's not until a familiar voice fills the space with lyrics that you learned as a baby that there's a sickening twist in your stomach and a renewed need to leave as you push out of your seat, leaving the half empty beer behind.

You move to the bar as Bradley begins to sing and have to force yourself not to look at him. You know what you'd see, aviators perched low on his nose, still slightly crooked from when he'd caught a fastball to the face as a teenager. Curls that are almost golden in the light but had to be matted somewhat by the heat and sweat inside the bar. He had that stupid mustache just like his father's, that was just borderline within regs. You know his dog tags were visible on top of his tank top, with some stupid Hawaiian shirt hanging open. You know what you'd see, so you do your beat to avoid looking.

If you had caved, what you would've also seen is how he searched for you while he sang. A slow scan of the bar, for the girl he learned the lyrics beside, propped on an old piano as a toddler as your father's and his mother sang along, holding little you in her arms. In the mass of people surrounding the piano though, he's having a hard time finding you, why did he pick this song?

"Hey, Penny," you call her name, and her head snaps to you, from where she'd been watching your dad get tossed out.

Your lips quirk on end a bit. Years have gone by, and her relationship with your father, volatile as it can be, still has been the most steadfast of your life. She was your mom in all the ways that mattered.

"I didn't realize they called you back too," she says, talking a bit loud over the music.

"Best of the Best, Miss Penny," you muse, though there's a hollowness in your chest as you say it, she seems to catch it.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" she asks, grabbing a glass and you shake your head.

"No, I, uh… I'll settle for the old man," you tell her, head tilting as you slide your card across the bar.

"No, he'd—"

You cut her off, though, before she can argue. "No, let me. I, uh, I was heading out anyways. You know him, he'd hate to have an open tab," you admit, throwing in a joke to add some levity.

"Sweetheart-" she tries again, and you know she can read you. Despite all the years and gaps in your relationship with her. This was the woman who took you to buy pads for the first time, you knew that she knew you.

"Please, Pen, I… I can't be here, not with this. It's so much worse for him, too. Let me settle it," you admit to her rawly, and her gaze moves to where there's a live performance.

"History's a fickle thing, isn't it?" she offers instead, taking your card. "The ones we truly care about, they always seem to come back in the end, though."

"You'd know better than me, Pen," you shoot back, your tones got a bit defensive but she doesn't even flinch.

She hands you your card with a bittersweet smile, "I guess I would," she nods.

You let out a sigh, and look back at her, "Tell Amelia I'm back?" you ask, and she nods. "At the end of this, whatever it is, tell her I'll take her for ice cream?" you tag on, signing the receipt.

"I will, she'll hold you to it though (Y/n)," Penny confirms.

"I'd expect nothing less as a woman of the Navy," you muse, tucking your card away and turning from the bar.

Rooster's still singing, his voice as pretty as ever. And you can't help your self. You cave.

sue me, you think as you look over at him just once as you pause by the door.

"Well, kiss me baby! Ooh! That feel's good!" he sings, and you smile to yourself despite the ache, shaking your head as you push the doors and walk out. He had a smile on his face, and maybe, maybe you could learn to be okay.

Maybe.

(Probably not.)

You're unlocking your truck when you hear your name. "Athena!" You pause and turn, surprised to see both Phoenix and Hangman; after all, they always seem to be at ends.

"Where are you going?" Phoenix is the one to ask, her cheeks are flushed and her chests heaving a bit from how she'd all but been screaming the lyrics from beside Rooster.

"Home, gotta get some beauty rest before tomorrow," you tell them. "Make sure I'm ready to show you all up," you cover.

"Are you sure?" Phoenix asks, hesitating by the door.

"Yeah, I'll see you bright and early," you reassure her.

She seems to take your word as she nods once at you before heading back into the bar. Hangman, on the other hand, has stayed outside.

"Bravado was never your strong suit, 'Thena, it's mine," he drawls, and though the words are cocky, you understand the question hidden there.

"Go inside, Jake. I'll see you tomorrow," you say softly before getting in your truck. "I gotta keep both my feet on the ground," you add, willing him to understand, before shutting the door.

You notice he stays, watching as you pull out. It's only once you pull out on the road that he turns to go back in.

He be-lines straight to Coyote, missing the look that Rooster sends him as struts back in. The one that lingers on the door, waiting for you to walk back in as well, not that you do.

...

a/n: come talk with me about this athena idea if you want, it's been a while since i've posted anything not DC, so it was kind of fun. I have a longer non-related top gun fic in my drafts too, but that'll come after cnng probably

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

[mmso-notlikethat]

Ode to My Broken Wrench

yay finally finished my EddieChimTommy bonding fic, it's just some fix-it for their friendship that I needed so much. I might had too much fun writing this

Gen Ι WC 3,732

on ao3 or below <3

Tommy hears the knock at his door and opens it to find Chimney standing there, a six-pack of beer in his hand and his signature grin plastered across his face.

Tommy leans against the doorframe with a sigh. "What is it, Howie?"

Chimney lifts the six-pack as if it’s a winning lottery ticket. "Oh, come on, I’ve been calling you. You don’t have plans, right? I brought this, and I wanna watch that movie you’re always raving about."

Tommy crosses his arms, looking unimpressed. "Howie... Look, I’m not in the mood for any lectures or talks. Can we just drop this so I can go back to spending my off day clearing out the garage?"

Chimney widens his eyes in mock offense. "Who said anything about a lecture? Dude, what would I even lecture you about?"

Tommy tilts his head, scoffing. "Really? You want me to believe this is just about beer and a movie?"

Before Chimney can respond, the sound of a truck pulling into the driveway catches their attention. Tommy groans as Eddie steps out, holding a pizza box.

Tommy throws up his hands. "Great. You invited Eddie, too?"

Chimney grins even wider. "I did not. But hey, the more, the merrier." He nudges Tommy aside and steps into the house like he owns the place.

Tommy spins around, incredulous. "Really, Howie?!"

Chimney waves a hand dismissively, already making himself comfortable in the living room. "Relax, dude. You’ve got comfy couches, a big TV, and beer. What’s there to complain about?"

Eddie, reaching the door, takes in the scene with an amused look. "Trouble in paradise?"

Tommy glares at him. "You just happened to swing by? With pizza?"

Eddie shrugs, holding up the box. "Finished some errands and figured you’d be home. Thought you might want company—or at least wouldn’t turn down free food."

Chimney’s voice floats over from the living room. "See? It’s fate. Now shut the door, grab some plates, and let’s get this party started."

Tommy sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You two are annoying."

Eddie smirks, stepping past him and into the house. "And yet, here we are."

Tommy shuts the door, but his hesitation lingers as he watches them settle in like this is their space. He doesn’t sit, standing stiffly by the arm of the couch instead.

"Seriously, what are you guys doing here?" His tone isn’t angry, but it’s far from relaxed.

Chimney, already popping the tab on a beer, looks up with an easy smile. "Having a beer, watching a movie, and hanging out with our buddy. What else would we be doing?"

Eddie glances over, his expression more measured. "Yeah, Tommy. What else?"

Tommy doesn’t answer right away, the weight of their presence pulling at him in ways he’s not ready to confront. He nods toward the pizza box instead. "You’d better clean up after yourselves."

The movie flickered across the screen, its dramatic soundtrack filling the living room. Chimney was sprawled on the couch, one hand holding a beer and the other occasionally pointing at the screen to punctuate his running commentary.

“Okay, but why would they go in there? Like, have they not seen a single horror movie in their lives?!” Chimney exclaimed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Classic rookie mistake.”

Eddie sighed heavily from the armchair, his legs stretched out, pizza box balanced on one knee. “This is why I don’t watch movies. People doing dumb stuff for no reason. Can we do something else? Spar? Shoot some hoops? Literally anything?”

Tommy, sitting on the edge of the couch, barely registered Eddie’s complaint. He was leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his hands loosely clasped. His eyes were on the TV, but he wasn’t really watching. His fingers tapped absently against each other, and he shifted in his seat every so often, like he couldn’t quite get comfortable.

Chimney turned to Eddie with a grin. “What’s wrong, Ed? Can’t handle sitting still for two hours? That explains why you always lose at poker. No patience.”

“Poker has strategy,” Eddie countered, his voice flat. “This is just...waiting for the inevitable.”

Chimney rolled his eyes. “It’s called suspense. Builds character.”

Eddie snorted. “You should’ve told me we were watching a character-building exercise.”

Chimney was about to retort when his gaze flicked to Tommy, who hadn’t said a word since they’d pressed play. His expression softened for a brief moment before he leaned back into his usual tone.

“Hey, Tommy, back me up here. Tell Mr. No Fun that this is a cinematic masterpiece.”

Tommy blinked, pulled from his thoughts. “Huh?”

“The movie!” Chimney said, gesturing dramatically at the screen. “Defend its honor!”

Tommy glanced at the TV, the scene a blur in his mind. “Uh...yeah. Sure.”

Chimney frowned slightly but didn’t push. Instead, he nudged Eddie’s arm with his foot. “See? Tommy gets it. Unlike you, traitor.”

Eddie smirked faintly but didn’t respond, his eyes drifting to Tommy for a beat. “Hey, you okay over there? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Tommy straightened slightly, his fingers curling into fists briefly before he forced them to relax. “I’m fine. Just...watching.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced, but Chimney cut in before the silence could stretch. “That’s the spirit. Focus on the brilliance of this movie instead of complaining, Eddie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but didn’t push further, settling back into his seat. Tommy shifted again, his gaze flicking between the screen and his friends. He knew they were trying, in their own ways, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were here for a reason they weren’t saying out loud.

And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t ready to hear it.

Tommy suddenly grabbed the remote and hit pause, freezing the movie mid-scene.

Chimney groaned dramatically, tossing his head back. “Tommy, whyyy? We were just getting to the best part! This is where the hero pulls off the impossible stunt. Come on, man!”

Eddie didn’t react as loudly. He just glanced at Tommy with a raised eyebrow, already sensing something was coming.

Tommy stood, letting the remote drop onto the coffee table as he began pacing. His hands went to his hips, then ran through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “Okay, I can’t do this. I can’t just sit here and pretend like everything’s normal.”

Eddie and Chimney exchanged glances but stayed quiet as Tommy continued, his voice rising slightly with frustration.

“I broke up with Ev—Buck. You both are his family, and what? Now we’re just buddies? Really? You don’t think that’s...weird?”

Eddie opened his mouth, but Chimney beat him to it, throwing his hands up. “Really? This is why you stopped the movie? To drop some existential crisis bomb? I knew you were stupid, Kinard, but come on! This is amateur-level stupid. And I’ve known you for, what, 20 years? You think I’m hanging out here for the popcorn?”

Tommy stopped pacing, turning toward Chimney with an incredulous look. And with a scoff “Please, Howie. How many times did we actually hang out this much before I started dating Buck? Don’t you see what I’m saying?”

Chimney opened his mouth to retort, but Eddie leaned forward, cutting in with a sharp tone. “First, stop calling him Buck.” He made a face as if the name itself tasted bad. “It feels weird. Stick to Evan, for God’s sake.”

Tommy blinked at him. “What does that have to do with—”

“And we’re going back to this because what the hell, you idiot,” Eddie interrupted, his voice hard. “Breaking up with him? Really? What were you even thinking?” He continued with a glare “You think cutting us off for the past two months was the smart move? Ignoring calls, dodging texts, what was that? Some genius post-breakup plan?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, looking at the floor. “It wasn’t like that…”

Eddie wasn’t letting up. “Oh no? Then what was it like? Because from where I’m sitting, it sure seems like you were ready to throw this—us—out along with the relationship. And for what?”

Tommy hesitated, his jaw tightening. “You’re Buck’s family—”

“Evan,” Eddie corrected with a glare.

Tommy huffed. “Fine. Evan’s family. It felt...weird.” He hesitated before adding, his tone sharper, “And it wasn’t just me. You didn’t exactly come banging on my door either. I wasn’t the only one who stayed quiet.”

Eddie opened his mouth to reply but faltered, glancing at Chimney, who scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Fair,” Chimney admitted, raising a hand. “We kind of dropped the ball there. But we’re here now, aren’t we?”

Tommy stopped pacing and crossed his arms, his gaze hardening as he looked at both of them. “Yeah, now. After two months. You think it’s that easy to just...trust that? You’re here now, sure, but for a while, it felt like you didn’t care either.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but Tommy held up a hand, his voice sharper now. “I’m not saying you don’t care. I know you do. But when you go quiet for that long...it’s hard not to feel like maybe I was right to cut you off.”

He paused, running a hand through his hair as his voice cracked slightly. “I didn’t just lose Evan. I also lost my friends that day, and that—” His tone grew more frustrated and angry as he struggled to get the words out. “That... that actually hurt, okay? It hurt more than I want to admit.”

“Tommy—” Chimney started, his tone softer, but Tommy cut him off, shaking his head.

“You probably should’ve come earlier. I’ve been having full-blown conversations with my tools in the garage. The wrench? Total pessimist. Hammer? Thinks I’m beyond saving.” He let out a humorless laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Guess I’m on my own repair list now.”

Eddie leaned back, smirking, his tone shifting to something lighter. “Careful, Tommy. Keep this up, and we might actually start thinking you have feelings.”

Chimney, still holding his beer, gave Tommy a softer look. “We’re sorry, Tommy. For not calling sooner. That was on us.”

Eddie nodded, his smirk fading briefly. “Yeah. You didn’t deserve that.”

The silence lingered for a beat, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Tommy shrugged, forcing a faint smile. “Guess you’re making up for it now with free therapy.”

Chimney grinned, the teasing slipping back into his tone. “Next thing you know, you’ll be writing poetry in the garage. ‘Ode to My Broken Wrench.’”

Tommy rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath waiting for an invite to the recital.”

Chimney leaned back with a grin. “Speaking of tools, for someone who loves fixing things, you sure suck at fixing friendships.”

Tommy glared at him. “Wow, thanks, Howie. That’s super helpful.”

Chimney shrugged, his grin cheeky. “Hey, I call it like I see it. You’ve been rebuilding this house piece by piece for what? Two years? And don’t even get me started on your garage. You’ll spend hours under a car, but then, when it’s about picking up the phone? Crickets. What, were you afraid we’d say, ‘Hey, we still like you’?”

Eddie snorted, folding his arms. “He’s not wrong. You can rebuild a carburetor but can’t handle a text?”

Chimney leaned back with a smirk. “See? I’m just saying, maybe your emotional toolbox is missing a wrench or two. And apparently, relationships are above your pay grade.”

Tommy’s lips twitched as if he wanted to be annoyed but couldn’t quite pull it off. “Maybe I just don’t like interruptions while I’m trying to work.”

“Please,” Chimney scoffed, waving a hand. “I know you’ve been talking to the water heater like it’s your new best friend.”

Chimney sighed, sitting up straighter. “Look, I get it. We didn’t call you those first couple of weeks, and yeah, that’s on us.”

Eddie nodded, his expression serious. “We messed up, okay? We thought you might need space or...hell, we didn’t know what to do. It’s not like there’s a manual for this.”

Chimney gestured between himself and Eddie. “We’re idiots. But even idiots figure things out eventually, and that’s why we’re here now. To make sure you don’t do something even dumber, like cut us out of your life.”

Tommy scoffed, his tone dipping into something darker. “Oh, right, because abandoning me for weeks while I was spiraling was definitely the smart move. Guess it’s my fault for thinking I rated higher than a missed call.”

Chimney winced. “Ouch. Fat head, you’re gonna guilt us to death before this movie ends.”

Tommy ignored him, back to pacing. “You’re Buck’s—Evan’s—family. I’m the guy who...” He paused, glancing at the floor before adding with a bitter chuckle, “Well, let’s just say I wasn’t exactly the best decision maker here.”

“Tommy,” Eddie said, leaning forward, his tone softening but still firm. “I introduced you to Christopher. You met him before you started dating Buck. You think I just do that for anyone?”

Tommy stopped mid-step, his head snapping up to look at Eddie.

“And you know we hung out before, too,” Eddie added, crossing his arms. “Like that should even matter. But apparently, it does to you. You think a breakup changes who we are to you? Because it doesn’t.”

Chimney jumped back in, pointing a finger at Tommy. “Yeah, what he said. And another thing—this is not because of Evan, Buck, or whatever the hell we’re calling him right now. We’re here because of you, idiot. You think I’ve been dragging my butt to your house all this time for romance updates? Please. I don’t care about your disastrous love life; I care about you. Always have. Always will.”

Tommy’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He looked between them, his defenses crumbling under their combined words.

Eddie leaned back with a smirk. “And don’t forget—I still need you to check my car. And that Muay Thai setup in your garage? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Chimney raised a hand. “Also, I’m not going to let you disappear because I’m gonna need you to be my backup when I inevitably prank Eddie and he tries to kill me. I’ve got long-term plans, Kinard.”

Tommy let out a small, reluctant laugh despite himself, shaking his head.

Eddie softened his tone further, leaning forward. “Look, man, I get it. You’re hurt, and you’re trying to figure out what happens next. But don’t throw away the people who’ve been here for you just because you’re afraid things will change. You’re not just Buck’s ex. You’re Tommy. And we’ve got your back, whether you want it or not.”

Chimney nodded, raising his beer. “What he said. But also, don’t stop the movie next time. This heartfelt stuff? Cool. But I was really invested in that explosion scene.” He grinned, adding, “And you’re paying for pizza next time. Emotional outbursts aren’t free.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but Tommy let out a breathy laugh despite himself, shaking his head. He sank back onto the couch, finally meeting their gazes.

“I’m not good at this,” Tommy admitted quietly.

“No kidding,” Eddie deadpanned, but his expression softened. “Good thing you’ve got us to help you figure it out.”

Chimney clinked his beer against Eddie’s. He looked at Tommy with a mock-serious expression. “But for real, you still owe me for that time I saved your life.”

Tommy groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You’re never letting this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Chimney said cheerfully.

The three of them settled back into a more comfortable silence. The movie resumed, but Tommy found himself less focused on the screen and more on the feeling that, maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

The movie ended with a loud explosion, followed by the dramatic swell of music as the credits rolled. Chimney stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh. “That was good. Totally worth staying up for.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You stayed up? You’ve been snoring through the last fifteen minutes.”

Chimney shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, but I woke up in time for the big finish. Anyway, I should get going. Maddie’s going to kill me if I’m late picking up Jee.”

Eddie smirked. “If Maddie hasn’t killed you yet, you’re probably fine.”

“Don’t tempt fate, Diaz,” Chimney shot back, pulling on his jacket. He turned to Tommy and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t think too much, fat head. It’s bad for you. And Eddie, don’t let him overanalyze everything once I’m gone.”

“Not making any promises,” Eddie replied, smirking.

Chimney waved as he headed to the door. “Alright, have fun with the heart-to-heart. Don’t cry too much, boys.”

Tommy rolled his eyes as the door clicked shut behind Chimney. “He never changes.”

“You’ve been friends for two decades. You must’ve figured that out by now,” Eddie said, leaning back in the couch.

Tommy disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with two beers, handing one to Eddie before settling into his seat. “Figured it out? I gave up years ago.”

They drank in companionable silence for a while, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional sound of Tommy fidgeting with his bottle cap. Finally, Eddie broke the stillness.

“I’m moving to Texas.”

Tommy froze mid-sip, lowering his bottle slowly. “Texas? You’re leaving?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

Tommy stared at him, his brow furrowing. “Chris isn’t coming back, is he?”

Eddie sighed, his expression becoming unreadable as he stared into his beer. “I don’t know. I don’t want to push him. But I’m so done with missing his life. I can’t do it anymore.”

Tommy leaned back, letting out a breath as he processed Eddie’s words. “So much for those long-term plans you were just talking about earlier.”

Eddie shot him a mock glare, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Hey, I can still have long-term plans. They’re just...geographically flexible.”

Tommy chuckled, lifting his beer. “Fair enough.”

For a while, they sat in silence again, the weight of the conversation hanging between them. Eddie tapped his fingers lightly against the neck of his bottle, a habit Tommy recognized as him thinking something over.

Eventually, Tommy broke the quiet. “Did you talk to him before deciding to move?”

Eddie blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Chris?”

Tommy nodded, his voice even. “Dude, talk to your boy.”

Eddie let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve asked him how he feels about Texas. He doesn’t hate it, but…” Eddie trailed off again, this time with more hesitation.

“The last time I talked to him, I told him I’d get him an autograph from that actor he likes. Said he could hang it in his room, and he goes, ‘Oh cool, you’ll send it to me.’” Eddie’s voice softened as he repeated the words, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “He meant his room in Texas. At my parents house. And it just...it hit me. He doesn’t think of here as home anymore. I’m not his home anymore.”

Tommy tilted his head. “But you haven’t actually asked him if he wants to stay, have you?”

Eddie looked away, his silence answering the question.

Tommy nodded knowingly, taking a slow sip from his beer. “Dude, talk to your boy. He’s old enough to know what he wants—or at least to tell you what he’s feeling. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”

Eddie stared at the floor for a moment, swirling his beer absentmindedly. Then, after a long pause, he lifted his gaze to Tommy. “Maybe you should take that advice and talk to your boy.”

Tommy frowned, his brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “I mean Buck.”

Tommy sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “He’s not my boy, Eddie.”

Eddie’s voice was calm but firm. “You sure about that?”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his words catching in his throat. Finally, he snorted softly, trying to shift the mood. “Last time I talked to him, we didn’t exactly leave it on a ‘let’s grab coffee’ note. Pretty sure he’d rather punch me than talk to me.”

Tommy glanced at Eddie, expecting a smirk or maybe a chuckle, but Eddie’s gaze was steady, unwavering. It wasn’t judgmental, just...patient.

The corner of Tommy’s mouth twitched, but the humor faded quickly under Eddie’s silent persistence.

Eddie finally spoke, his tone calm. “Maybe. But you won’t know unless you try.”

Tommy sighed heavily, his smirk faltering. He stared at the label on his beer bottle, peeling at the edge with his thumb as if it would give him an answer.

Eddie leaned back slightly, still watching him. “You don’t get it, do you? Buck’s not over you, Tommy. He’s trying to be, but he’s not.”

Tommy finally looked up, his expression conflicted. “And what if I’m not over him either? What’s that supposed to change?”

Eddie’s gaze softened. “It means you stop being scared of messing up and actually try. You’re not perfect—none of us are—but Buck doesn’t want perfect. He wants you.”

Tommy blinked, visibly caught off guard. “You sound so sure.”

Eddie gave a small shrug, offering a faint, self-deprecating laugh. “Alright, maybe I’m not. I don’t know every detail of what happened between you two, and honestly, I don’t need to. That’s between you guys. But from where I’m sitting...yeah, that’s what it looks like to me.”

Tommy’s jaw tensed, his thumb still picking at the label on his bottle, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes.

Eddie continued, his tone certain now. “Look, man, I get it. This stuff’s messy. But you’re not going to figure it out by sitting here and pretending like it’s over when it’s not. Talk to him. That’s all I’m saying.”

Tommy exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, maybe.”

Eddie leaned back, taking a long drink from his beer. The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time.

“Texas, huh?” Tommy said finally, his tone lighter, almost teasing.

Eddie smirked, catching the shift. “Yeah. You want to help me pack?”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I actually like you, Diaz.”