#M!A no verbal filter

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 1 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (I will be adding more and tag the Masterlist) Thank you @hellishjoel for putting on this contest. It's a lot of fun!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: Roughly 5000

Warning: Dilfy smut, age gap (23 & 42)

Mid-June, 2024. The first summer back home upon college graduation. You knew there would be an adjustment period and while you didn't necessarily feel unhappy, there was a strangeness that left you with feelings you couldn't quite pinpoint. This was your childhood home, your hometown, your room - but still, somehow it felt foreign.

You hung up the maroon cap and gown that showed off the primary color of Texas A+M, the college where you had spent the last four years studying your ass off to get a degree in criminal justice. At twenty-three years old after spending the last few years in a little off-campus apartment with some friends, you were feeling both aggravated and nostalgic upon returning to your parents' house in the suburbs. They were great and you got along just fine; but the freedoms that had gone along with renting your own place were now reeled in a bit tighter. At the very least you knew your mother would likely stay awake on the nights you were out late. Still, you appreciated how much they cared about you.

You moved to your bedroom window and flung it open to let in some air to get rid of the stuffiness that lingered in the house. Immediately, your eyes landed on a man next door standing behind a grill as smoke filtered up above him in a faint, little cloud. He flipped a burger with a pair of metal tongs and took a sip from what looked like a bottle of beer.

"Hey, honey."

You jumped at your mother's voice as if you'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hey." You pressed your eyebrows together and motioned out the window as she entered the room. "Who's that?"

"Oh, I guess it never came up in conversation," your mother said with a shrug, "That's our new neighbor. He moved in back in January."

You glanced back out the window.

"He’s a bit too old for you,” she teased with a laugh.

You whipped around and made a face. "I'm not... I'm not checking him out. I'm just asking why there's a stranger in the Wilsons' backyard." You smirked and raised your eyebrows, "Maybe if my mother told me things I wouldn't have to play detective."

"Isn't that what you got your degree in criminal justice for?"

You chuckled, knowing she would most certainly outwit you in a verbal battle. "And I'm 23 years old. No one's too old for me anymore."

"Well, in that case I hear they just built a nice, new nursing home down the road with plenty of widowed men. I can drive you there if you'd like."

You let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll pass."

The two of you giggled and your mother continued, "Will you be joining your father and I for dinner tonight? We were thinking of just going to Chili's and then heading to a play at the little theater downtown. The kids are putting on Grease."

You smiled as your phone vibrated with a text from your best friend. "It's Holly."

"So, I guess the answer is going to be no," your mother suspected. She smirked and got the hint. “Keep in touch.”

"Okay," you agreed and then cleared your throat when she turned to go. "Mom, what's his name?"

"Huh?"

"The neighbor," you went on, "I should probably introduce myself since I'm going to be a resident of 45 Harding Drive again."

"Joel," her mother replied, "Joel Miller."

Your parents left soon after and so you wandered out to the back steps, waiting for them to take off first before popping open a beer. The ice cold beverage tasted better than normal because of the incoming summer heat that was supposed to really strike the following morning. With a content sigh, you leaned your elbows back on the top step of the set of four that led from the back door into the oversized backyard.

"Jennifer?" a deep, scratchy voice made you jump for the second time that night. You put a hand on your chest and glanced off to the side when you realized a man had called out your mother's name.

The neighbor, you thought, feeling your stomach knot up.

You cleared your throat and rose to your feet, leaving the beer on the top step. "No… I’m (Y/N)." You took a few steps in his direction though he made his way almost all the way to the steps.

"(Y/N)?" His features became clear when he stepped into a small, back light beside the door. The man flashed a friendly, boyish grin from beneath a trim beard. "Tim and Jen’s daughter?"

You looked down sheepishly and smiled before lifting your eyes to meet his stare. "Yeah."

He’s hot, your inner monologue informed you, as if your cheeks hadn't suddenly grown hot.

His eyes shifted to the beer and his grin widened even more before he extended a hand. "I'm Joel... your neighbor."

"Nice to meet you." You gave a closed-mouth smile and took in his appearance, consciously telling herself not to stare. His plain white t-shirt showed off his broad chest and shoulders

Joel cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," you assured him and then cleared your throat, "Do you want a beer or something?"

A smirk twisted onto his face., "No thanks. I was actually just coming over to see if I could borrow some butter."

"Oh..." You glanced over your shoulder at the back door and then back to Joel.

"You don't have to," he said reassuringly, unable to keep the grin from his face. "You don't even know me yet so-"

"No.” You cut him off, "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Joel's voice cut through you like a knife and he kept his eyes firmly locked on yours.

You nodded, unable to look away for a moment and then waved him inside.

"Don't forget your brew here, honey." He reached down and scooped up the beer as you flung the back door open.

You smiled again, "Thanks."

Joel nodded and followed you in, before glancing around at the modest but modern kitchen. "You, uh... you even old enough to drink this shit?" He motioned to the beer.

You rolled your eyes, "I can show you my ID if that makes you feel any better." You flung open the refrigerator, "I know my parents are going to treat me like I'm in high school again."

"Well... they're just trying to protect you," Joel said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three." You glanced over her shoulder at him, somewhat pleased to catch him staring - or so you thought. It prompted him to look elsewhere.

"Here." You removed a stick of butter and crossed the room to hand it to him. When the butter landed in his hand you decided to be bold and didn't immediately let it go, "How old are you?"

He chuckled before holding a wicked smirk and again held her captive with his playfully intense eyes. "How old do you think I am?"

You stared back, somewhat used to gaining control over the guys you had dated or been interested in in the past. Already, this time you felt a bit outmatched and part of it was your instant attraction to him. When Joel took one step in her direction, you swallowed hard and gave a random answer.

"Thirty-two?"

Joel laughed a little louder, putting a hand on his stomach. He ran the other hand through his messy brown hair and pointed. "You're so full of shit."

You smiled at him, "I was thinking more of thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

He sucked his teeth and gave you a look up-and-down before smiling wide again. When he didn't say anything in response you flat out asked, "Am I right?"

"Forty-two," Joel finally informed you after a long pause.

"Over the hill then?"

He snickered and then motioned to the fridge, "Ya know... I will have that beer if you don't mind."

You smiled before reopening the fridge to fetch one for him. When you placed a bottle of Bud Lite in his hand he used the counter to pop the top rather than twist it. When the dented bottle cap fell to the floor and danced in circles for a moment you glanced back up to find him continuing to stare as he took a long swig from the bottle.

Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your dad going to notice that a few of these are missing?"

"They're mine," you informed him, "And I'm not-"

"A kid, I know..." Joel rolled his eyes now and the two of you shared a laugh, "Believe me when you're my age you'll love that someone will accuse you of being younger."

"I'm sure I will."

He reached down and scooped up the cap from the ground and then held it out in his palm. When you went to reach for it he closed his hand and smiled playfully.

"I'll take it," Joel offered, "Don't want you to get caught drinking these things when your parents come home." He continued to tease you about your age.

"You know, I could've guessed you were fifty."

He laughed out loud. "Smart mouth on you," Joel flashed his index finger at her with the hand that held the bottle, "I like it."

You looked down and laughed again, feeling your cheeks grow hot again from his remark.

"Anyway, I should be getting back." Joel continued to smile, almost triumphantly and winked. "It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you too.”

He held your gaze for an extra second, forcing him to smirk a final time before heading out the back door.

"Thanks for the beer," he said casually, "I'll see ya around."

8:15 pm - the following evening

"Sorry I couldn't make it out last night," Holly said to you. The two of you sat side by side at barstools down at one of the local bars in town. "My boss can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"It's fine. I had the house to myself so I kind of just had some time to chill and binge watch some old shows."

"Sounds terrible."

You laughed and shrugged. "It was alright."

"Well, here's to... summer?" Holly raised her martini glass and you tapped her beer bottle gently against it.

"To potentially the weirdest summer of my life."

"Why's that?"

You shrugged, "I don't know. Being back home doesn't feel so 'at home' anymore."

"Give it time." Holly sipped her drink, "In a month it'll feel like you never left."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Hey, it's not so bad. I'm here." She smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Jill and Molly should be home within the week too. We can get the old crew back together before we all get real jobs and have to do shitty adult stuff."

"I'll drink to that," you agreed, taking a longer swig of the beer. You sighed and began to peel at the blue Bud Lite label, letting your mind drift to the night before with Joel. You envisioned him snapping the cap off the top of the beer bottle, using the counter. A smile crossed lingered on your face.

"Ooohh... someone's checking us out," Holly commented, "Or maybe they know you..." Her eyebrows pressed together and she motioned using her head toward a table in the corner of the bar.

"Oh shit." You couldn't contain your response but realized it must've sounded out of place.

"What?" Her friend asked, "Do you know him?"

"That's my neighbor," you informed her, "New neighbor."

Joel smirked and gave a wave but quickly entertained a conversation he was having with two other men at the small, corner table.

"He's kind of a Dilf."

You snickered and shrugged, unable to take your eyes off of him. When Joel glanced back in your direction you looked away and quickly took a sip of your.

"You think he's hot," Holly suspected with a laugh.

"What?" You shook your head, "No... I mean he may have some Dilf qualities or something like you just said but…” The sentence drifted off.

"Mm-hmm..." She continued to stare at her friend with playfully accusing eyes.

"Stop," you joked, "I just met him last night."

"Last night?" Holly perked up, "And..."

"And what?"

"You tell me."

You laughed again, "He came over to the house because he needed some butter."

"More like some sugar," she winked and glanced up toward a television that had a baseball game on in front of them.

You let out a hearty laugh and shook your head.

"He keeps looking over here." Holly’s voice perked out, "Oh! He's getting up," Holly whispered, stalking him for a moment with her eyes.

You glanced over and felt your stomach twist in knots when he headed in their direction.

"So you are over twenty-one," Joel cracked a wide smile and tapped the back of her chair as he continued to walk by.

"Twenty-three," you called after him, smiling wide.

He glanced over his shoulder, winking once before continuing on around a corner toward the bathrooms.

You let out a sigh and Holly turned back around.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" her friend asked. Before you could attempt to plead your case Holly went on, "He's hot... and he's totally flirting with you."

"He's not flirting with me."

"That was a Frank Sinatra-worthy wink."

You shook your head, laughing again. "Where do you come up with these things?"

"You're glowin. You're crushing on this guy. Who cares if he's your neighbor. Get on that."

"He's forty-two," you lowered your voice.

Holly raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the doorway where Joel had just walked through before returning her attention to her friend.

"Forget it." You sipped your drink and tried to pretend like you were nterested in the game on the television.

"At least admit you're crushing."

She turned to her and shook her head, "Fine... he's hot. Okay?" You focused on the screen for as long as she could and tried to pretend not to notice when Joel rounded back into the bar. You let out a deep breath as he crossed behind you and felt a rush when he came up beside you to flag down the bartender.

"Another round?" the middle-aged bartender asked, already reaching for a beer.

"Please,” Joel said with a nod, "You can put it on the tab." He turned to you, "Any interest in playing darts over here?" He nodded toward a dart board in the corner.

"Sure."

"Don't feel obligated." He forced your eyes back to his and continued to stare into them.

"I don't." You felt that intense paralysis again and couldn't turn away. When the bartender came back with the round of beers for Joel, you felt relieved and let out a breath.

"Get these two what they want," Joel added to the bartender, "Next round's on me when you finish those."

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"It's fine. I owe you one from last night." He headed back to the small table with his friends and Holly finally snapped you out of your daze.

"I thought you just gave him butter," she whispered with a giggle, "What was last night?"

You swallowed hard and rose to your feet, prompting Holly to do the same. "I offered him a beer and he took it," she said, "It was nothing... believe me. If I had anything interesting to share I would tell you."

Your legs felt heavy as you crossed the dark bar that was scattered with only a handful of other people. While the two other men began collecting darts and erasing the chalkboard to the side, Joel stood staring with his elbow on the table. For a moment everything else was in the background and you could only focus on him.

Shit... Any wit she had going for her had betrayed her. The instant, intense attraction you had to him was completely clouding your judgment. You felt like you were about to enter a wolf den, though you didn't at all mind playing the part of Little Red Riding Hood.

The anxiety-ridden feeling you had had leading up to the game of darts diminished as the night went on. You played a few games, swapping teammates several times, beginning with a 'boys versus girls' theme and then pairing off randomly when one game ended.

"He's going to fuck it up, you watch," Joel taunted as his friend lined up, closing one eye as he released the dart, only sending it clunking off the board and to the ground. "You didn't even hit the fuckin' board." His words drew laughter from everyone and the man that missed stumbled to retrieve it, chuckling as he went.

"I'm fucked up," Skip, the older robust man, remarked as he struggled to pick the dark up from the floor.

"Ya think?" Joel joked, continuing to sip on his beer.

"It's about time I get this man home to his wife and let her deal with him," the other man, Charlie, chuckled from behind a pair of alcohol-induced crimson cheeks. "Can't hold his liquor."

Skip huffed a breath and closed his eyes with a hand on his head. "The old lady's going to be mad at me. Especially when I tell her we've been hanging out with these lovely ladies." He motioned to you and Holly, laughing at himself and making the others do the same.

"I'd leave that part out if you knew what was good for ya," Charlie informed him with another laugh. "Come on Skippy. It's past your bed time."

"Game over?" Holly asked you.

"I guess so." You raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Charlie, you guys to get home?" Joel asked.

"It's just a quarter mile down the road," Charlie waved a hand. He smiled, "Good night ladies."

"Goodnight," you both said at the same time before Holly turned to you.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Be right back." She raised her eyebrows, noting it would give you and Joel a moment alone and you tried to play it off coolly.

"Okay." She watched a moment as Holly made her way down the bar and around the corner.

"Hope I didn't kill your girls night," Joel said.

"No." You turned back to him and leaned an elbow on the table, "We were just bored. Had to get out of the house."

"Mmm..." He slid back down into a seat and you took upon herself to join him as you waited for Holly.

Joel leaned both elbows on the table to straddle his beer, "You're probably used to night clubs filled with young guys just dying to buy you a drink. This has to be fuckin' lame."

"I was over that scene by my junior year," you told him with a laugh as you shook your head. "They were all the same with their cheesy cologne and gelled up hair."

Joel huffed a laugh and took a sip of his drink. "Sick of that shit huh?"

"Very." You mirrored his position and continued to sip on the beer you had been milking for the better part of an hour, "I'm kind of over the party scene... and the being at home scene."

"You've been home for one fuckin' day." He raised his eyebrows, "Get over it. You're saving money."

You nodded, "Yeah... yeah you're right."

"I know I am." He smiled, a charming arrogance radiating out of him.

When your phone buzzed in your pocket you jumped and quickly removed it, finding a text message from Holly.

I'm getting in my car. Snuck out the back. Have fun. You'll thank me later.

When you looked back up Joel was grilling you with his eyes. You wondered if he had managed to read the message or not. You cleared her throat. "Holly," you said simply.

"You guys need to go?"

You opened her mouth to speak, still unsure if he had seen what your friend wrote but decided to chance it and lie. "She... got sick. She's on her way home."

"She okay?"

You nodded. “Just a little embarrassed I think and decided to go." You took a sip to buy yourself some time in case he asked any more questions. When he didn't you tried to change the subject. "This place is dead."

"What's so bad about the college scene?" Joel asked.

"Huh?"

"The young guys, the night clubs..."

"Oh... nothing, I guess." You cleared her throat feeling like he was trying to read your mind. Again, your face felt flush with heat and you continued, "They're just... all the same. There's no appeal anymore. When I was eighteen I thought it was cool sneaking into bars and all that." You smiled and shook her head before looking him in the eye. "This is more my speed."

Joel stared back and didn't immediately say anything.

You almost couldn't take the quiet stalemate. The sexual attraction for Joel burned in your chest and in that moment, in the quiet corner of the bar, it was hard to fight it. All the same, you felt like you had to be reading his body language correctly in assuming he was feeling something too. Still, the fact that he was your older neighbor, who you didn't know very well, lingered in the back of your mind.

Getting involved with Joel would satisfy your instant craving for him but beyond that you knew it could only lead to making both of your lives more complicated.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you told him, when you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. It was the only thing you could say without leaping across the table and initiating a make-out session that played out animalistically in your mind.

"You gunna disappear on me too?" he joked, though you could see there was a hint of seriousness in his piercing eyes behind the wicked smile that hadn't left his face all evening.

"Not a chance." You felt embarrassed by the bold nature of your words, but took a deep breath and made the long walk across the bar into the restroom area. When you pushed open the door you felt relieved that no one else was in there and quickly made your way to the sink to pat some water on her face. You let out a breath, leaning both of her hands on the counter and then took in your appearance to make sure you was satisfied with the way you looked.

I'm being ridiculous, you thought. I'm too old to feel this out of control over a guy... or a man.

Joel was a man. He wasn't at all like the college boys you had been surrounded by who loved to crush beer cans on their heads, brag about how many consecutive beer pong games they'd won and worst of all when they threw the cheesiest lines at you and your friends to try to get laid. Joel didn't have to say or do anything in particular. He could simply look at you the right way and you found yourself ready to obey any request or demand he threw your way.

I’m in over my head, you thought, but I don't care.

You took in another deep breath and felt like you had the quick break that you needed to hold a sensible conversation with him without the constant interference of your out-of-whack hormones.

"Okay," you whispered to yourself and fiddled with your hair before pulling the door open to head back into the short, dark hallway. When Joel rounded the corner at the same time from the bar both of you stopped abruptly.

His eyes stalked the length of your body before finally re-settling on your gaze.

"Checking to make sure I didn't bail?" you joked, nervously laughing just after. Your tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but look him up and down the way he had just done to you.

Joel swallowed hard, tipping his mouth up into a half-smirk before walking past the men's room door in your direction.

You didn't have time to process all of the questions in your mind because he marched up and planted his lips against yours, immediately penetrating them with his tongue as his hands successfully shoved you up against the door to the women's room. It opened a few inches beneath the force.

You felt an explosion of adrenaline filter through your body as you kissed him back even more savagely than in your daydreams.

Joel pushed the door all the way open with one hand, not separating himself from you as he gripped your ass with his free hand and pushed his hips firmly against yours.

You tangled a hand in his hair, kissing him back with a heated passion that you didn't bother to try masking now that he had initiated the fantasy that had been playing out in your mind since you had him.

He moaned into your mouth before taking a breath and crushing his lips back against yours. Your back collided with the tile wall at the back of the bathroom, and you arched your neck as he began to ravage you, sliding a hand down the front of your pants while gripping your face with the other to kiss you hard again.

It all was happening so fast. You struggled to keep up but couldn't process a conscious thought when his first two fingers slid inside of you.

You bit down on your lip in a break in the kiss and spread your legs wider to give him more access.

Joel left a single kiss on her lips and spoke against them in a husky whisper, "Let it out honey," he kissed you again, "Let it out."

You knew the bar was nearly empty and there wasn't another woman that had been there. Even if there had been you didn't know that you would have cared. When his fingers twitched, arcing perfectly in his technique to make your entire lower body shiver with pleasure, you groaned.

"Fuck Joel," your whined his name, desperate for his tongue to dominate your again as he continued to finger you relentlessly until you felt like you were going to explode.

Joel's arousal heightened when he traced your lips with his thumb of his free hand, prompting you to take the tip of it into your mouth.

"God," he closed his eyes relished in the feeling, pushing his fingers deeper into you.

You whimpered again, writhing beneath his touch and attempted to reach for the belt buckle on his pants. "I want you."

He removed his hand from beneath your slick panties and placed his hands against the wall on either side of you as you managed to undo his buckle and shove his pants down off his hips.

Instinctively, you dropped to your knees, taking in as much of him as you could. Joel moaned and bucked his hips once as he grasped the back of your head with one hand. You looked up, watching his head fall back as his closed eyes pressed shut tighter. Joel allowed you to have your way with him as you continued to go down on him like you might never get another opportunity to do so. "Fuuucckk." He drew the word out, encouraging you to continue as he grabbed a fist full of your hair. "Ohh shit..."

Had anybody walked by the door there would have been no way to mask what was going on. Joel didn't hold back and felt an additional jolt of pleasure when you stroked him with your hand before quietly demanding him to come.

He opened his eyes, letting his mouth hang open as he glanced down, making eye contact with you as you engulfed him again.

"Jesus..." Joel's eyes closed and he felt an unmistakable buildup brewing below his waist. He couldn't ask you to stop, not when he was on the verge of exploding. "I'm gunna come." He shouted the words so loud that you thought for sure that someone had to have heard your encounter from somewhere in the bar. Still, you didn't let up and allowed him to push deep into you, gripping the back of your head with such force that you couldn't have separated your mouth from him if you tried.

He groaned, not attempting to hold back what he was feeling, alternating different curse words in between uneven breaths that ultimately left him panting as you finished him off. With a final breath he released your hair, letting his hand drop toward your face as you wiped a hand across your mouth and slowly rose to your feet.

Joel stood there for several seconds, breathing heavy with his pants at his ankles and a hand still on your face. When he finally came down off the high enough to speak, a chuckle left his mouth and ran a hand through your now-messy hair. "Shit honey... you didn't get yours." He let out another breath and then retrieved his pants from the floor and straightened out his appearance.

"It's alright," you told him with a sly smile, noting the heat that was still brewing between your legs.

He huffed another breath and adjusted himself over his pants before regaining your gaze. Joel smiled and drew his thumb gently under your eye, "Mascara's running. Sorry honey."

You closed her eyes as he continued to wipe the stray makeup away from your face. When you reopened them, Joel sported a half grin and he raised his eyebrows.

"Guess I fuckin' owe ya one."

You snickered, pleased to know that he wasn't at all expecting this to be your only encounter. "Yeah... you do."

Joel took a final, deep breath. "Well... you know where to find me."

"Next door."

"If you see me outside come on over to... borrow some butter or something.”

"Butter..." You snickered and then swallowed hard when he took a step toward her and slid a hand back down the front of your pants.

Joel touched his lips to yours as he spoke and this time gently began to massage up and down your wet center. When your mouth twisted up in a smile and you closed your eyes again he grinned and removed his glistening fingers. "It's a shame this is going to go to waste. Too bad you're so damn good at giving a blowjob. I had all the intentions of fucking you but I could just not ask you to stop.”

"Damn," she said quietly, but smiled, praying he might have it in him to continue.

Joel smiled, reading the disappointment on her face. "I'll be in and out tomorrow," he claimed, "You see me and you feel like bringing me over some butter…”

"I think you’ll definitely need some."

He looked down and made his way to the sink to wash his hands before turning to her with a smile. He ended the night the same way he had the night before, "I'll see ya around."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

[koenigami]

➵ WRIOTHESLEY synopsis : how does one express such a strong feeling like love when someone like him is involved? wc : 1k tags : fem!reader, fluff, smut, emotional reader who is very bad with words of affirmation

you don’t get how he does it so easily. how he manages to make your heart beat faster, your face heat up, body react and get aroused. his words hold such a great power over you, especially so because he has proved to you many times that they’re not empty promises. 

wriothesley has shown you his love in all kinds of forms and ways. whether that be in your bedroom, or in more appropriate situations. 

and you’re so jealous. 

because as he keeps one hand on your ankle, with your leg perched on his shoulder, while the other is putting the slightest pressure on your abdomen - you wonder why you can’t convey your feelings to him the way that he does. directly. honestly. in the heat of the moment and without any filter. but you simply can’t. 

expressing your feelings verbally has never been your forte. and in moments like these, where your lover keeps praising you, showering you with “i love you’s” and petnames until all you can do is try not to combust, you hope that he knows that you feel the same. 

the invisible veil of embarrassment and shyness always wraps around your mouth multiple times, nearly gagging you, and preventing you from revealing all of you. inside and out. because while you’re both as naked as on the day that you were born, you still feel as if there was a thick layer coated over you that is keeping wriothesley too far away from you. 

every time his cock hits your inner most part, making your throat tighten up and your eyes roll back into your head, you’re not able to tell him how good he’s making you feel. when his hand slips lower, his thumb pressing against your wet swollen clit, jerking the little nub back and forth, you can’t tell him that you like it just like that. that only him can make your body shake like this. that you’re only at his mercy. 

you feel wriothesley’s lips on your skin. sweet and light kisses are spread along your lower calf, and the intimacy, the gentleness is making you tear up. 

having him inside you is not enough. his hands on your body are not enough. his skin against yours is not enough, because it still feels like you’re miles apart. 

“fuck, sweetheart. quit squeezing me so tight or else-” 

a quiet sob rips through the room and wriothesley’s sex dazed mind sobers up in an instant. your leg hits the mattress when he carefully drops it down, and leans over to have a look at you.

“love?” 

wriothesley’s about to stop everything at the sight of the tears trailing down your cheeks. are you in pain? did he hurt you? was it too much? 

all those questions evaporate when he sees you stretch your arms out towards him, grabby hands hovering in front of his face as you keep crying like a toddler begging to be picked up. 

“c’mere.” is all you can get out, yet it is enough for wriothesley to know what is truly going on. the empty space between you is quickly filled with warmth. with him. 

chest against chest, he lies down beside you, his still hard cock slipping out of you, as he wraps you up in the comfort of his arms. 

“i’m here. i’m here, my love.”

whether it’s your tears or snot that are wetting his neck as you nuzzle into him, he could not care less. everything about the past hour is forgotten. the heated kisses and frantic touches, as well as the moans and groans that filled your bedroom-

everything is irrelevant because no orgasm could ever satiate the need that you’re feeling right here and now. 

“wrio-”

“i know, baby. i know. i‘m not going anywhere, ‘m right here.” his hand strokes the back of your head, his fingers delicately combing through strands of your soft hair. a lopsided smile curves his lips when the arms around his middle tighten the slightest bit, and a wet kiss is pressed against the middle of his throat, right below his adam’s apple. 

what you see as a weakness, is for wriothesley one of many reasons to love you even more. you don’t need words to show him that your heart has only space for him. you don’t have to tell him how much he means to you, and how good he’s being to you when he can all discern it in the way your body’s speaking to him. you gravitate towards him as if he was your own little sun. 

his thumb swipes over your cheek when you eventually pull back to look at him. teary, doe eyes stare right into his soul. into his heart. and it’s the prettiest sight that a human being like him could have ever dreamed of. so many things have gone wrong in his life, yet so many went right, with you being his biggest blessing. 

and you prove it over and over again. because he swears that his heart has stopped beating at a normal pace ever since you stepped into his life. you have rekindled his brain. his entire being. 

“wriothesley.” your hoarse voice cuts through his thoughts, and he coos sweetly at you when you sniff and rub the corner of your eye with your palm. a kiss on your forehead, and another on the tip of your nose, and you feel like you’re holding the entire world in your arms. 

“i love you. so, so much.” you croak, cupping his cheek and feeling the light stubble along his jaw as if to distract yourself from the light shake in your hands and the overwhelming fluttering of your heart. 

“hm. i love you too.” wriothesley breathes, his hand wrapped so gently around your wrist as he guides it towards his lips, sealing his words with a final kiss on your palm. “so, so much.”

[lauvgoods]

head over heels  ︱  jj maybank

SUMMARY : jj makes it his mission to find out how you feel

WORD COUNT : 851

GENRE : fluff

WARNINGS : none

𐙚₊˚⊹ 🦢 you’ll forever deny it, but it’s clear to anyone who has ever seen the two of you that jj maybank is your kryptonite. 

even before you realized you liked him, he would be the first to make you crack a smile, rolling your eyes at how absolutely stupid he was being. he knew how absolutely stupid he was being, but if it got you to laugh, he’d do anything. there was just something about those big blue eyes of his and that dumb, dumb grin that would chip away at your annoyed exterior, and you hated it. 

for jj, on the other hand, he had already been planning out in the back of his mind a thousand ways to ask you out if he could just get a foolproof sign of you liking him. 

it takes a little over three months in for you to realize how much you’re genuinely falling for him and, as you’ve told yourself, how could you not? lots of people go on rants about how much the person they like is different from everyone else, but with jj it’s undeniably true. this boy, oh this boy, shows more interest in you as a person than anyone you’ve ever met, friend or otherwise. he knows how to poke and prod at you without crossing any lines, which you find odd since he isn’t exactly known for having the best verbal filter. 

It’s like he somehow keeps track of everything he can find out just to surprise you out of nowhere with just how much he seems to remember (yet somehow can’t keep track of the date). the book you talked about wanting to read three weeks ago? “you ever get to that? talked about it nonstop for half an hour, how ‘m i supposed to forget that?” that one song you’ve randomly mumbled the lyrics to while cleaning? “yeah, looked it up ‘n it seemed pretty catchy.” even down to what you talked about wanting for your birthday months in advance. this boy makes it his mission to know every single little thing he can about you. he totally doesn’t put it all down in his notes app to come back to later on.

the point is, jj’s never seemed to be a romantic, and maybe at first he’d thought of you as a challenge. a mission. a puzzle to work out. and damn if he’s not determined. there hadn’t been a sign that you were interested when he would start calling you all these little nicknames in a hope to get even the smallest reaction out of you, though it’s clear he doesn’t know about the silent screaming WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCK looping in your head every time he calls you “baby” with, again, that stupid smirk of his. as far as he knows, it just makes you get this weird look on your face and you freeze up before pretending like it never happened.

it’s one night when he’s going on and on (and on) about this after a few drinks with john b. where his best friend just starts looking at him with the most deadpan look on his face, like he’s an absolute idiot. which, after he realizes, he can’t help but agree with, since he’d never thought of your lack of reaction as a reaction. thinking back, he doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner, seeing as the guys you usually rant angrily about to him later on for even thinking they’d had a chance. he was the one you always went to even though kiara would probably have been more than happy to agree with you on every bit of it. 

the next time he calls you princess, he doesn’t let it go. he doesn’t go along with you trying to switch up the conversation, doesn’t even have that smirk this time that’s always made you think he was just being, well, jj. he just looks at you with a look you haven’t really noticed before, probably because you’ve been a little too in your head to pick up on it. that, and he mostly saves it for when you aren’t looking, when he can really take you in for everything you are. 

it’s that look, that deep gaze that makes you feel like he’s staring into your soul and like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever laid eyes on, that finally gets the reaction out of you. the one he’s been hoping for. the moment your cheeks start to go warm, start to turn the slightest shade darker, is when he breaks out into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. you’re so caught up in it that you haven’t even noticed how close he is, how close you’re getting to him. 

but it’s when he whispers in what’s probably the softest tone you’ve ever heard, asking if he can kiss you, and you’re nodding before you can even realize what’s happening because your heart is suddenly pounding and you can barely focus with how your stomach is doing backflips, that you truly realize how head over heels you are for him. 🕯️⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

[pristine-rose]

✧ LILAC FUMES

⊹ characters : albedo, ningguang, kaveh, la signora

⊹ synopsis : bad habits ( in which only you can see )

⊹ warnings : all sfw :] , smoking ( ningguang )

⊹ female reader, not proofread, sry for writing albedo again

minors can interact, but do not follow. this is just more sfw to pass the time! will hopefully return to n.sfw soon

⊹ ALBEDO

self-doubt

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

Brush strokes race rapidly across the canvas, but somehow even quicker than normal. He used more colors than he usually does; He puts in more care than he usually does, too. He paints you so beautifully. Perhaps even a little too perfect, as well. But that’s the way he sees you—no flaws, but in a way that ms so perfectly human, that you’re practically perfectly imperfect. And Archons, he loves that about you.

Is he allowed to say that? Allowed to even think it? Loving you? This is why he paints you—because he can’t show these feelings any other way. And he hates this about himself. Why can’t he kiss you the way other couples do? Why can’t he hug you without being so tense? Why, why, why did he have to be created without a heart?

You deserved someone more human than him, he feared. Someone who would pour his heart out to you so emotionally correct, and not towards a painting like he is doing now.

“Albedo…” He felt his body jump in horrific surprise. “This is…”

Ah. He forgot to lock his studio door. He was so stupid—he could never think logically when it came to you. And now you were here, seeing something he didn’t want you to see. “Albedo,” you called again with your hand over your mouth, “you’re so kind…”

Kind? He could almost scoff You were calling him kind? He was a disgrace here, he could not even understand the basics of love in a way to show it to you physically or verbally; And here you were, staring at him like he was the most thoughtful of lovers. He didn’t know how to show love. In fact, he didn’t even know what he was doing.

And yet, when you ran up to hug him so tightly, he thought, perhaps you knew him better than he knew himself.

☁️ —

⊹ NINGGUANG

smoking

Smoke-lined silk screen, glass room, bed frame, light post.

A huff, clouds filtered between red lips.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that?”

When she looked up at you, her pearly whites were playing with the wooden tip between her lips, toying with it as if it were like secondary skin. She looked unbothered—genuinely confused, even—as to what exactly you were asking of her in the first place.

“Enough of what?”

You gave no verbal response as your eyes glanced down at her mouth for just a second. Oh. “My pipe?”

“Your smoking problem,” you told; only to, of course, garner a response along the lines of ‘I don’t have a problem’. You could only scoff, really, and the Tianqian wasn’t sure if she liked that. To be almost belittled and scolded like a child ( which, in truth, was not happening at all—she just conditioned herself to see such a false reality ) was not a setting that Ningguang took kindly to. And if you were any other subordinate telling her what to do, you’d be a dartboard by now.

She blew out slowly. Secondhand smoke hit the tip of your nose and your brow raised. “You’re being dramatic,” she rolled her eyes. “Come. Grow up, and give me a—”

“I will not be kissing you with your smoker’s breath.”

She almost cracked the wooden pipe with the clench of her hand from annoyance—but that would be giving into you, wouldn’t it? She almost didn’t like the winning smile that crossed your lips. What she didn’t like even more, however, was being put into place right in front of you.

☁️ —

⊹ KAVEH

overworking, worrying

“Love you so m— Oh, wait! Do you think you can make another coffee for—?”

His words died into mumbles when he saw the hesitant look you gave him. “Coffee?” you questioned, leaning at the doorframe in a way he didn’t like. A lean like that meant you’d be questioning him. He got nervous when you did that. “At this hour?”

His fingers fiddled with his pen. “I have this big project to hammer out tonight, I fear…”

You only sighed. So simple, yet he could not take his eyes off of you. They were widened with a stir of caffeine and sleep deprivation both simultaneously—the bags under his eyes only causing even more concern. But he stared at you out of habit, for a large part of it was fear and insecurity. His eyes were always, always widened, searching for any trace of disappointment in your gaze. He didn’t like it when you were concerned over him; Not because of annoyance, no.

But over worry you would leave him for his self-sabotaging habits.

“Sorry,” he muttered when you pushed yourself off the doorframe, beginning to make your way towards his desk. “This project is really important to me.”

“You said that all your projects are important to you,” you remarked. The way you tiredly slouched yourself over his back and rested your chin on his shoulder made him only feel worse. “And I can see that,” you continued, “they are your life’s work.”

Kaveh stayed quiet. He stared down at his work-in-progress blueprint, trying his best to look like he was working. And truly, he was working fine just a moment ago—But how could he continue that focus now, when you’re making him self-conscious? He didn’t deserve such concern. You should’ve just left him by now.

“You’re shaking.” He didn’t notice that until you placed your hand on top of his, which was gripping his pen so tightly. “You can continue your masterpiece when you have enough sleep, okay?” you muttered as you kissed his temple. He sighed, melting in his seat. Perhaps he could spare to continue in the morning.

☁️ —

⊹ LA SIGNORA

secret keeping, overthinking

“Hey. Hey, look at me.”

Her lips landed under your own once she felt the pull of your fingers on her chin. She was seated, feeling your presence loom over her like a sense of warm security that was so reachable in this palace of ice. And yet it left her breathless—she, who was never surprised by anything. She, who was so cautious and careful about who she adored.

“Was there something you needed?” she whispered, feeling small as her breath brushed your lips.

“You were heating up,” you said with such concern, “worryingly so.” Her head slightly tilted back with a widened eye, looking up when the back of your hand gently pressed against her forehead. She could almost smile—you cared so much, and it almost made her hopelessly romantic again. “Are you developing a fever, Signora?”

Her brows furrowed together. No, of course she wasn’t.

“Perhaps I am.”

But she couldn’t tell you that. She couldn’t tell you of the scorching, liquid fire that coarse through her veins. She could not explain the self sacrifice she committed centuries ago, or how she was prepared to die.

“Do you mind walking with me to my room?”

Because why would she tell you, when you would probably become scared of her? You—who was just like everybody else—thought she was perfect and ruthless. But also you, who she could not afford to see the disgusted face of.

For now, you only smiled; And she planned to keep it that way.

[shrinkingmarie]

you know what’s really beneficial for me?

i have zero filter verbally(ADHD icons rise up).

All my friends know every little thing about me. When i’m sad, I tell them. When a man is being weird, I tell them.

So, this d🐰sorder is the one thing I keep to myself.

Being thruthful in every other aspect gives me the space to lie about this one thing.

Same goes for my parents. I’m 22 but very open with them about my friends, my feelings, my life.

People don’t expect someone who’s this open about their life and mental health to lie to them.

so “i’ll eat later”, “i have stomach issues”, “i’m cutting out beer and fast food for my gut health”, will go a long, long way for me.

“Well, I don’t weigh myself, I really don’t know if I lost weight!”

signed, m.🐰

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hello! bit of a specific request but would you know of any fics that feature draco & harry exchanging snarky letters (for whatever purpose- their jobs or teddy or anything really) that get progressively less snarky and more exasperatedly affectionate? fic doesn't have to be only featuring their letters, but like initially at least the exchanges between draco & harry are solely via post

Is there anything more romantic than taking the time to write a letter? Even if it is sent out of annoyance, you had to take time to find pen and paper, sit and write your thoughts, sign off and sign your name, then find postage and send it.

I hope you enjoy these epistolary (one of my favorite words) fics. And if you feel up to it, send a friend a letter for the joy of it.

Epistolary

Mislaid Owl Post by (801 words, rated G) by @thelionessroyal

A trainee owl keeps bringing letters to Hogwarts Potions Master Draco Malfoy instead of their intended recipients, leading to a rather annoyed Malfoy and amused Potter sending letters back and forth. Maybe they should thank the poor owl for his efforts...

Yours, Draco by @drarrytrash (3,505 words, not rated)

All that's left are 15 letters, and then those are gone too.

I Just Want You to Know by @crazybutgood and @sugareey-makes-stuff (3,949 words, rated T)

After a Potions accident leaves Harry and Draco without a verbal filter, they have no choice but to communicate with each other through letters. Forced to work together to catch up and complete their Potions project on time, secrets they have both been withholding eventually spill out along the way.

Famous Last Words by drarrymadhatter and @ladderofyears (6,298 words, rated M)

When unsigned love letters addressed to him begin spontaneously appearing around the castle, Draco is not amused. In an effort to make them stop - or at least to make them stop appearing in public places with permanent sticking charms - he writes back.

Handling Snakes by @potter-loves-malfoy (7,074 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy is content with his life as a psychologist in the Muggle world. Sure, the tube is a nightmare, and it would be nice to use magic without worrying about being discreet, but it's good for the most part. When he starts treating a client for their fear of snakes, he realizes that his safe, comfortable, Muggle life won't be that way for long. It really doesn't help that he might have a slight aversion to snakes. There's no avoiding it now; he needs Harry Potter. Only for his snakes, of course.

To Auld Acquaintance by @cavendishbutterfly, @corvuscrowned, @sorrybutblog, @fictional (8,326 words, rated T)

After Draco returns from a stint in Paris, neither Harry nor Draco seem to know how to talk to each other. As usual, they make it literally everyone else's problem.

Featuring: texts, letters, emails, and further shenanigans.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (10,258 words, rated T)

Dear Mr Potter, The answer is, and will remain, a no.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy Accounts Manager, Phoenix Press

How to Fool Your Friends (And Get a Boyfriend in the Process ) by @famoustruth and @orpheous87 (10,332 words, rated T)

Fed up with their friends trying to set them up, Harry and Draco decide to pretend to be a couple in public. They plan their every move through their letters, but what they didn't plan for were the very real feelings that make themselves known.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (14,848 words, rated M)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

There are many benefits to being a marine biologist by @tedahfromtayla (19,088 words, rated T)

There is something about Harry that constantly calls Draco back to Britain. No matter how far he tries to run, he can't outrun his stubborn heart, or the history of his family.

Bonne Foi, Draco Malfoy by @badwolfblues (19,399 words, rated E)

At twenty-five, Draco Malfoy has to return to England to do something about the Manor, and Harry Potter won’t leave him alone. His years-old crush on Potter is reignited over repairs, mermaid lemonades, and pocket owl messages.

Butterflies in Winter by Justlikewriting (19,725 words, rated M)

Of course Harry had known that Malfoy’d been sent to Azkaban, but, to be honest, since the trials Harry hadn’t really thought of the git at all anymore. A random visit to Slug and Jiggers was about to drastically change that, though.

And whose exactly were those letters that Harry found there?

Dear Stranger by @iero0 (22,751 words, rated T)

The one thing more pointless than falling in love with an anonymous wizard over a correspondence is falling in love with Harry Potter when you’re Draco Malfoy.

*Check out the Happy Hour rec of this fic by @ladderofyears

All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (32,826 words, rated E)

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

The Art of Thank You Notes by fictionclaw (82,232 words, rated E)

A few years after the war, Harry receives a ministry notice that Draco Malfoy’s house arrest will soon be lifted and that the wand he has kept may be sent to the ministry. He doesn’t think much of it when he sends the wand directly to Malfoy Manor with a note.

But one letter swiftly follows another and Malfoy sneaks his way into Harry's every day life without either of them minding.

Or; Harry and Draco find reasons to write letters to each other and Black heirlooms and family histories are uncovered while they figure out why that is. Lunch dates, careful friendship, confusing feelings and Draco's art included.

Save the Date by @mallstars (122,954 words, rated E)

In the twelve years after the war, Harry attends sixteen weddings. As friends and acquaintances vow their lives to one another, he watches quietly from the sidelines. Step by step, Harry pieces himself back together, builds a life from the wreckage of his past and falls, slowly and thoroughly, for Draco Malfoy.

A story told in sixteen parts, of patient and transformative love, of queerness, of reaching out and holding on. Featuring plenty of pining, Gilderoy Lockhart getting married in a fever dream of glitter and product placement, and Rita Skeeter spitting a steady stream of venom at Harry and Draco's every move.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic finder

~*~

1. Looking for a Cloud Recesses era fic. LWJ eventually ask WWX why he doesn't complete his punishment to get it out of the way (he just doodles in the library so the punishment stretches on). WWX points out that it takes more than 1 to cheat in an exam and yet where are the other culprits? This leads to LWJ's awakening to the unfairness/hypocrisy of LQR and interpreting rules. I think this might be just before the betrothal is cancelled, and LWJ confronts LQR or he steps up for WWX during this scene. Maybe? It could be 2 separate scenes. Argh! Please help! Until A03 lets me download and filter my reading history, you're my only hope! @mreisse

~*~

2. Hi.

So i read an uncompleted ao3 fic that wangxian had an arranged marriage and were NOT in a good terms and lwj was always cold to wwx also wwx had to wear a mask all the time or a bad fate would come to him if anyone aside jiangs see his face. At some point he goes to live in a mansion in yilling with mian mian and mo xuanyu and xu yang to go away from rumors because lwj had to also marry wen qing to appease wen rouhan

Anyway i couldn't find the fic anywhere and i don't remember its name. I was hoping if you guys have any idea what happened to it?

FOUND? #2 is A Price to Pay by Wangxianist. They have deleted account and all fics.

~*~

3. Hi! ／(^ x ^)＼

I have a request for the fic finder!

I only remember this one bit? scene?

it's at a battle, SSC maybe? and WWX and 3 or 4 others hold hands and talk as one and they light up, and weird magic happen?

I'm sorry that it is so little and confused ／(＞×＜)＼

Hi! ／(^ x ^)＼ I'm #3 on the fic finder and it is not Quartet

but thank you anyway! I know that I really didn't give a lot to go of

if it helps I think one of the people with WWX might have been WN or NHS, but I'm really not sure

Not FOUND! Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k wangxian, JZX & JC & WWX & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, WWX's canonical comfort with the prospect of his own death, Hurt/Comfort, JZX makes friends, Eventual Happy Ending, some unhappiness along the way, Canon-Typical Violence, JC keeps his golden core, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Minor Character Death, Kissing, WWX Lives, no golden core transfer, JZX Lives, Fix-It, WN Lives, Weeping, temporary major character death, Murder Road Trip, Implied Sexual Content, Sunshot Campaign, Nonbinary NHS, Telepathy, platonic group soulbonding, Family, Found Family, POV WWX, Podfic Available, Siblings Sworn Brothers, aroace JZX, Happy Ending, all the Wen remnants live, POV JZX, JGY is less murdery, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, JZX's social awkwardness, Poison)

FOUND! We Can See a New Start by preciousbunnynoiz (M, 127k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Soulmates, Time Travel Fix-It, Biting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, but mentally they are adults, Making Out, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Happy Ending, PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Supportive LWJ, Communication, Soul Bond, Blood, Found Family, Parent-Child Relationship, aromantic JC, Lesbian WQ, Queerplatonic Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Disassociate episodes, disassociating, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Depression, Delusions, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, Attempted Sexual Assault, Therapy, Supportive JC, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Torture, Revenge, Self-Sacrifice, Accidental Bonding, Brotherly Bonding)

~*~

4. Hi! I'm trying to find a fic similar do the 8 ask from the previous fic finder. In this one, it's also an arranged marriage, and Lz also pushes Wy into a pond when they're teenagers, but there is a scene, after they're adults and already married, where Lz prevents Wy from falling into a pond, and it's revealed that Lz didn't actually push Wy into the pond, he just bumped into Wy when he turned around too fast and Wy fell into the pond, he was going to help Wy get out, but Wy got out by himself before Lz coulp help him and went away before Lz could say he was sorry and explain what happened.

~*~

5. looking for a fic were lan xichen has the big sad, probably was a modern au. lan wangji and wei wuxian come by to help him clean his apartment and lan wangji is like “sorry I haven’t been here for you”. there’s mention of them putting the laundry away and stuff. fairly short.

FOUND! found in translation by sysrae (E, 12k, LXC/NMJ, wangxian, modern cultivation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, not LQR friendly, Meddling brothers, Coming Out, Loss of Virginity, Under-negotiated Kink, slight breathplay, Light Dom/sub, Aftercare, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

6. Hi! I’m looking for a fic. It’s wangxian modern au, they’re friends with benefits (top!LZ / Bottom!WY) and it’s told from Lan Wangji’s pov. Wei Ying gets in a car accident and is in a coma for 13 days (might be 16) and he ends up staying at Lan Wangji’s place while he gets better. I really can’t remember the title and it making me coo coo. Thank you xx @liv-andletdie

FOUND? Almost Lover by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 37k, Wangxian, modern, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, a bad thing happens to WWX, LWJ gets very sad, Hospital Scenes, Dubious Medical Science, pining for the person you're fucking, Friends With Benefits, friends who come together stay together, learning to use our words, there are also rabbits, Traumatic Injury, mention of past WWX/WQ)

~*~

7. Hi, Thank you so much for your amazing work!! I am specifically looking for a fic where Jiang Yanli tells the Jins about where the Wens were living which leads to their death? And Wei Wuxian doesn't forgive her for that and even Jiang Cheng was upset about it. @yilinglaobunny

~*~

8. It's both a fic finder and an ITMF, in the fic wwx had a tiger/lion and it was canon era, I'm not able to find it. // added the last part to ITMF post ~Mod L

FOUND? Time Unwinds in a Kaleidoscope of Red by vamprav (E, 30k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, WWX Has No Golden Core, Golden Core Reveal, BAMF WWX, Undead Tiger, Sentient Burial Mounds, JGY Redemption, As in wei ying recruits him to yunmeng, deadly hairpins) WWX raises a tiger from the dead in that one

~*~

9. I’m looking for the fic where WWX “develops” a silver core - him, NMJ (I think), and LWJ follow JGY down a tunnel and catch him being shady, and JGY tries to activate the tiger amulet. It spirals out of control and WWX absorbs the power and it becomes a cool reservoir of power similar to a core, and WQ tells him “congratulations, you successfully invented a new kind of cultivation .”

Thank you for all you do!! @seussian

Hi! #9 on the recent fic finder post isn’t Never Again, although there are similar elements! The scene I’m remembering definitely involved fall~out from JGY using the tiger seal and WWX absorbing its power to save everyone. Thank you for all of your efforts!!

NOT FOUND! Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn't have a happy ending)

NOT FOUND! ❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

FOUND! The Breaking of Your Soul (Upon My Lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending)

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10. I'm looking for a fic where lqr regrets sending wwx away. I think it was something along the lines of yzy kicking wwx out, and wwx went to the lan household first (in the middle of the night?) but lqr thought he was being a disturbance and didn't let him in to see lwj and then wwx disappeared. Then several years later, lwj and wwx reconnect and there's a part where lqr is really repetent and shows that he always regretted turning wwx away bc he felt like it was partially his fault for how difficult wwx's life was after that. Tyvm in advance for everyone's help!

🔒Welcome to the Family Series by jiejieaini (E, 231k, WangXian, NieLan, XuanLi, Modern AU, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, London, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Adopted WWX, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Hand Jobs, Gay Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom/sub Undertones, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Christmas, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, LWJ and WWX Have a Breeding Kink, First Time, Public Blow Jobs, High School, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Blowjobs, Soft WangXian, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Family Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Drowning, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dubious Consent, Rimming, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Marriage Proposal, Weddings, Nightmares, Adoption, Pregnancy)

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11. Hello I am trying to find a fic, it was a little long ago

So what happens is that lwj and wwx were in full on love making session, cloths discarded and all and some people barge in on them 😭 I don't remember the rest but the people included lqr maybe idk

FOUND? divulgences by ataraxistence (Not rated, 3k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, Love Confessions)

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12. Hi! I read a fic a couple of years ago that I'd love to find again... it was a modern au, where LWJ worked in his family run martial arts complex or something along those lines (I think a-yuan was a student, which is how WWX met him? But I might be getting my fics crossed) I remember LWJ was autistic, and there was a community festival or something and he was getting super overwhelmed so wwx put some juice or ketchup on his hand and pretended to be hurt so LWJ would have an excuse to go inside and "heal" him.

Thanks for all that you do! @scenicpixie

FOUND! leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 143k, wangxian, modern, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic LWJ, neurodivergent WWX, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you've met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, setting out to make the neighborhood safer for your crush and accidentally building community, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation, the chef's assortment of partnered sex acts)

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13. hi, im looking for a fic with a scene where lwj is in seclusion mourning wwx and is told he'll be forced to marry. he runs out immediately and gets drunk/brands himself, wakes up to lxc telling him their uncle has changed his mind and he won't have to marry (so please stop trying to die please). i remember literally nothing else so any assistance appreciated! @onlyegret

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14. For fic finder I am looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian is banished from Lotus Pier while Madam Yu is still alive and everyone in the sect has to turn away from him. Literally turn away: he walks down the streets to leave Lotus Pier and everyone he has ever known turns their faces from him. I think was technically outcast from the world of polite cultivation in whole (like no one from a sect was supposed to interact with him) but I don’t remember how his banishment played out after leaving. TY~!

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15. Hi i was wondering if you could help me find a fic. It is set during the yilling patriarch arc, the wens are in burial mounds. In koi tower madam jin was searching for jgs asking jgy about him. JGS was in a brothel and JGY got hit in the head with a vase because he didn't answer? JZX and JYL helped him but he suffered from a concussion and started acting weird and blurting out all his father's evil plan about planning on killing NMJ and trying to get the tiger seal i guess? In the end i think burial mounds and the wen creat a sect with jgy's help ? Amd i think it was a 3zun fic but i really cant remember sorry. Can you please help me find it i am searching for it for weeks now thanks!!! @booksandkdrama01

FOUND? Just a drop by R95irth (Not Rated, 184k, XiYao, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengSangQing, Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, 3zun | Venerated Triad Dynamics, 3Zun at the very end)

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16. Hello, seeking a bit of help because my own searches are turning up nothing. Looking for a fic where Mdm Yu had first (secretly?) married Jin Guangshan, before marrying Jiang Fengmian a bit later. It turns out that Yanli and Cheng are both actually Jin (because Mdm Yu *kept* cheating) and are disowned by Jiang and taken into Jin as servants. Mdm Yu loses her arms(?). Jin Guangyao tried to frame Yanli for poisoning Mdm Jin. @zoolooney

FOUND! Could this one be “OOC!” by A_flower_in_the_snow that was reuploaded on Wattpad

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17. Hi, i'm searching for a fic where lan wangji needs a favor from yiling laozu. Wei ying jokingly says He wants his first born and lan wangji proceeds to marry him so the can make that child.

FOUND? ❤️ spider lilies to sunflowers by cicer (E, 33k, wangxian, ABO, YLLZ WWX, fairy tale elements, mpreg, omega LWJ, alpha WWX, LWJ topping from the bottom, Mojo’s post)

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18. Hello for the fic finder, can you help find this fic, lwj is a uni professor who's stoic and cold and he's taking online classes and then one day wwx walks into the frame wearing booty shorts (?) and everyone of lwjs students are shocked and trying to figure out who he is. Eventually they find wwxs oh or smth. That's all I remember, if you can find it thank you so much 💞

FOUND? looking through a window by glitteringmoonlight (T, 5k, wangxian, modern, POV Outsider, College/University, Fluff and Humor)

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19. Hi, can you help me find this fic in which WWX is a General in the army (and is also a Prince I suppose but not like next in line) and is rumored to be hideous looking because of the scar on his face or something and is feared by the world. WangXian are married (arranged) and WWX only sleeps with LWJ enough to conceive a child and once he is informed of LWJ being pregnant, WWX stops seeing LWJ at all. WWX is under the impression that LWJ would find him ugly and so he even dims the lights and has LWJ wear a blindfold whenever they share their marital bed. LWJ doesn’t know his husband, hasn’t even seen his face properly and has never spoken to him in all the months they have been married and he is feeling extremely lonely but one day he finds an injured man in his courtyard and takes care of him without anyone’s knowledge. He doesn’t know the injured man is actually his husband WWX.

I read this on ao3 and forgot to bookmark it and now I can’t find it. Please, I will be extremely grateful if you could find it.

Thanks!

FOUND? 🔒 Love Swept in with the Rain by Sirendipity (M, 35k, WIP, WangXian, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Historical, Arranged Marriage, Secret Identity, Mistaken Identity, Emotional Infidelity, lwj cheats on his husband with his husband, Depression, Mpreg, Discussion of Abortion, Period-Typical Sexism, Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, General WWX, Unreliable Narrator, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Beauty and the Beast Elements)

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20. Looking for a fic that I remember only one scene from 😅 WWX tells LWJ that he could not have saved him no matter what he would have done, LWJ breaking down hard after. Pretty sure they were in the Jingshi.

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[purplelupins]

Happy Together

Part I Part Il Part III

The Black Phone

Albert Shaw × Fem!reader

Summary: Nothing like a new city. You just wanted a fresh start, and something comfortable, but what happens when you start to see the exact same patterns in Denver as you did before?

Warnings: the following warning are for the full fic, and not just this first chapter. PLEASE READ THEM. This is a DARK fic.

Dub-con (note that this is a kink so it is actually wanted), Daddy kink, size kink, pet names (princess, kiddo, sweetheart, honey and more) mentions of death (including murder, torture etc), cumming in pants, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f and m) begging, breeding kink, innocence kink, biting, adultery, infidelity, stalking, mentions of kidnapping, home break-in, fighting (verbal and physical)...more will be added.

Note: this is a commissioned piece for @mandowifey 🤍🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s often perceived as a cliche when someone claims that time stood still for them at a certain moment, but there cannot be a cliche without some truth. Indeed, neither you nor Albert moved an inch for what very well could have been an hour or a mere five seconds.

Your eyes were fused to one another’s.

Locked in a dare to see who would act first.

With adrenaline practically replacing your blood, you moved your hand to your outer thigh faster than ever to grasp the long blade strapped there. However, you weren’t fast enough. Al’s hand found the back of your head and gripped your hair; he yanked your head back in an attempt to knock you off balance, while you found the handle of your knife. Your scalp screamed at you but you paid it no mind.

Acting on the rush coursing through you and the excitement of Albert’s equal fight, you brought your foot up and hit him square in the diaphragm. In the back of your consciousness, you could head Samson barking from another room, but you couldn’t focus on that. His grip loosened on you just enough as he coughed, and you took the opportunity to lunge at him; you managed a solid punch to his injured cheek- knocking him back in his chair, and landed square in his lap. You heard him hiss, but wasted no time in raising your weapon to his neck and smiling wickedly.

Gotcha.

“You know, Mr. Shaw, I’d prefer it if you bought me dinner before you go pulling on my hair like that.” You moped, sticking your lip out like a child just to toy with the temper you saw flaring behind those dead eyes of his. So pretty.

“You viscous little-“ he started, but you had no reason to show mercy, so you pressed your blade a little more into that vein in his neck that pulsed so beautifully.

I bet it would look just delicious with blood pouring from it…

A shiver went down your spine at how pretty he would look with more blood on him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snapped, eyes ablaze.

You blinked slowly. It was as if his words had to filter in through your brain as you came back from being lost in thought. “I prefer princess, too. Not much of one for name calling.” You tilted your head to the side, eyeing the cut that reopened on his face thanks to you. “Red suits you…” you added, remembering his comment about how blue suited you that day in the diner.

“What do you want?” He rasped, hand still firmly in your hair. Not that it mattered- hell you barely noticed it anymore, it was more comforting now.

“Me?” You thought for a moment to add a little drama, “Oh you guessed most of it…just want a nice man to call my own. Not so bad, hm?” You smiled. “I’m not that unreasonable am I?”

Albert shifted under you, and swallowed against the blade. “And what…you kill along the way?” He asked.

You shrugged like he had only gotten the answer partially correct. “Well…adulterous behaviour needs to be stopped before it starts , you know. Someone needs to suss out the men who don’t deserve all those pretty wives…happily married or not, so why not me?” You scrapped the blade down the stubble on his neck, “Besides, it’s a bonus if they’re desperate enough. Can get a good fuck in before I-“

Your guard had dropped just enough for Al to yank your hair again and grab the arm with the blade that had been poking into him, but not enough for him to get the upper hand. You fought against his vice-like grip on your wrist, huffing out little laughs here and there. He was far stronger than any of the other men you usually engaged with, especially men his age.

You went to use your free hand to deliver another knock to his injury, but it seemed Albert already knew what you had planned before you did. His hand caught your arm a mere centimetre from his cheek, and a smirk pulled at his handsome face. You, however, managed to twist said arm from his remarkably tight grasp with a sharp jab to his collarbone with your elbow. With you momentarily distracted by the small victory, Albert was quick to slam your head into the wall beside you.

Stars sparked before your eyes for a few moments.

A maniacal laugh bubbled up from your chest when you bounced back- barely deterred. If anything the knock had given you a jump in energy. Seeing Al’s bewildered, bloody face from your resilience was possibly the best thing you’d seen all year.

Albert could feel his blood growing hotter with each second as his frustration took over.

How the fuck is she so strong?

Neither of you moved for three seconds until realization set in, but when it did indeed kick in, it hit you first. This time, you weren’t playing nice. Before he could grab you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and dug the tip of your knife into the base of his skull; the tip was already making a small incision.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You pouted again, “I was just trying to talk-“

“Cut this bullshit out kiddo.” He snapped, shifting his hips as you pinned him to the chair in your new position, “I’m not your demographic, you know that. So what. Do. You. Want?” He growled out, his breath fanning across your face.

You could feel your skin start to buzz the more Al spoke to you; he was smarter than you had anticipated. Observant, analytical, calculated… it all made you warm.

“About that, you seem to know what I like…so what do you like?” You grinned evilly. It seemed only fair that you poke as just many of his buttons, “Although, I think I might have an idea…Please tell me you’re him.”

“Who?” He rasped out- his face had lost most expression long ago. It was lax and deadened now, but his stoic default made you squirm.

“The one they’re all talking about…the one your own brother never shuts up about over there.” You tilted your head to the bulletin board, “The little boy grabber.”

Al’s eye twitched.

“That’s not-“

“Alright, The Grabber.” You said dramatically, smiling in his face.

As Samson continued to howl and bark from Al’s room, the older man showed no signs of distress or discomfort if he was feeling either. Although, you didn’t miss the fact that he was likely growing tired…it wasn’t exactly an optimal time to be awake and he was far from a youthful man. You, however, were in no rush.

“Samson, down!” Albert called out gruffly, followed by silence. Finally after a few minutes of contemplation on his part, Albert sighed,“Yea, they call me that…” he said, running his tongue along one of his canines.

Your eyes lit up and you wiggled with excitement; in doing so, you inadvertently came closer to Albert’s front, which you paid no mind but he cast his eyes away in a last effort to see an escape- or so you assumed.

“No fucking wonder you punched a hole in the wall! How can you listen to him go on about you?” You felt your heart rate pick up, “So what, you like little boys? That’s your thing? What do you do with them? Are they stuffed in your walls? Is it a sexual thing?” Your rapid-fire interrogation began to set Al on edge and you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped. But sadly for you, Al knew that this was exactly what you wanted.

So instead of snapping at you, he risked getting cut. Albert whipped on of his hands up, and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, squeezing hard as your blade drove into the back of his neck, “You talk too much, kid.” He hissed as blood began to trickle down his spine, but didn’t account for having his hand close to your mouth.

You jerked out of his grasp and sunk your teeth into his hand, and pressed your blade harshly against the cut already made. The two of you both snarled and panted at one another like wild animals, until you finally released his hand; a very noticeable bite mark left behind that he would have to explain everywhere you went. You were delighted.

Watching his pupils expand and contract was hypnotic as he tried to gain control over his rage. You inhaled and sighed out, leaning a little closer. “You’re fun.”

Albert had put you on your tippiest of toes, and you found yourself hoping it would happen again. As if to prove your point, you rolled your hips against him, and gasped when you felt his hardening length twitch. You tsked him and did it again, “What’s this? Grandpa can get hard? What is it? Being over powered by a young woman? The knife? Ooh is that your thing? You get off on being dominated?” You mocked him.

As a smile over took your rosy cheeks, Albert gave into impulse and smacked his forehead into yours with a crack.

“Shut that mouth of yours before I make you shut it again, princess.” He rasped, those sharp crooked teeth of his exposed as his lips pulled thin. But you didn’t miss how his voice seemed to be a little more breathless, nor how you had to resist the urge to draw blood from his lip with your teeth. Your ears still rung from the impact but it only made your need to taunt him further.

“You’re just a filthy old man aren’t you, Mr. Shaw?” You rubbed more deliberately against him and your grin deepened when you felt his hips rock against you despite his stern features.

“I think you need to understand that you’re not the only big shot here in Denver any more…but you knew that as soon as you looked at me didn’t you?” You cooed, dragging the cool blade down his back. “Did you like it?” You breathed.

“What?” He barked, shifting under you.

You rolled your eyes.

“The sweet, scared neighbour! I do love playing the part…” you preened.

He huffed out a laugh.

“You’re a horrible actress.”

“I had you fooled…even if it was just for a few weeks.” You winked, “So sad it’s ending now though…”

You dragged your knife up to his collarbone and pressed, flicking your eyes to his. Soulless meeting soulless.

Daring each other to make the next move.

Then he snapped.

Albert let you cut him as he grabbed your throat and slammed you back against the table. Adrenaline gripped you and you were about to bring your knee into his ribs when the front door opened violently. Both of you whipped your heads towards the sound, and were greeted with the untimely entrance of a distraught Max- his eyes red and shoulders drooping to the ground.

You both froze.

“God Al I’m sorry…” Max started, hands over his face as his emotions took over. Al and you silently released each other, keeping your eyes trained each other lest the other decide to toss caution into the wind, “Shit, I just- you know how I get and I-“ Max seemed to have not even noticed you and Albert in the middle of a life or death fight in the kitchen.

He began rambling on about how he would fix the wall and calm down about his conspiracies, all the while you were still locked eyes with the older man ready to snap your neck. You almost dared him to- you’d love to stare into those baby blues as your life faded. But when Albert didn’t move, and in fact seemed to silently tell you to not even think about doing something, you knew the game was over for the night, and took that as your sign to leave. You retracted your blade, and pushed up and off of his warm lap. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth when you saw the bulge against the leg of his jeans. It was in your best interest to run out the door, and you did; however, not before licking his bottom lip, leaving a string of saliva between you. Albert stared up at you- that thick crease still between his brows that made you want to melt. You smiled at how stern his face was in contrast to clearly how much he had enjoyed the fight…whether he knew it or not.

You were out the door and back home before Max even noticed. The only thing signalling your leave was Samson’s three barks.

Once you shut your front door, you could finally take inventory of your body. Head spinning; muscles aching; heart pounding. But you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft, exhausted laugh as your head fell back against the door. Sweat covered you, and you decided upon a shower as if you had t just stared death in the face and licked its lip. However, when you cast one more look outside your front window, you were met with the same gaze you had just ran from. Albert stood in his living room, Max still pacing behind him, staring unashamedly at his young little neighbour like she hadn’t just given him the best fight of his life.

It was as if you had both just started a game of cat and mouse, but neither of you knew which was the predator and which was the prey.

That night had changed everything. Your smile was sharper and your every step had a spring in it, just in case it was your last. Contrary to what most people would assume, everyday you awoke a little disappointed that you were in your bed with no middle aged man watching you, or evidence of someone snooping through your home. You admittedly wished he would try to frighten you, or actually act on the impulses you knew he felt.

Now when you saw Albert, the waves you exchanged seemed to hold a promise in them; what that exact promise was, however, had yet to be fully decided. A promise of one of you getting to the other…a promise of an eventual understanding…a promise of combined forces…you didn’t know.

What you did know, however, was that you hadn’t felt so giddy in a very long time. Certainly playing the part of a new girl in town was enjoyable while it had lasted and you now had to move on from it at least for Al, but knowing that someone out there knew your secret while harbouring their own made you dizzy with excitement. This was what had you bouncing everyday.

It was a game you had never played.

If you were honest, you were beyond ecstatic to play this particular game with Albert Shaw. There was something so exhilarating about toying with a man as striking as he, and you craved that cold gaze nearly every waking moment.

You wanted to see him angry.

Scared.

Amused.

Frustrated.

Blood thirsty.

He had confirmed your thoughts regarding him without any prompting, and you wondered what else he might confide in you. You wondered why he did what he did…where he did it.

When?

How?

Why now?

Had he killed for his entire life or was this some midlife crisis he wanted to test out while he was still in good shape? Was he remorseful? Merciful? Did Max really not know? Did he have a tag line? Was he inspired by anyone?

Your mind spun like a washing machine; it all came back to the same question.

Who the fuck was Albert Shaw?

Of course, Albert had the exact same question for you.

Who was this little hellion that had unceremoniously nestled into his perfect little life? How long had it taken for him to build that basement into the perfect cell; to establish a routine that the watchful eyes of the neighbourhood would know; to make himself seem like a simple, unsuspecting man of Denver who is just a quiet, nice man? How long? Years. Fucking years. Then within a matter of months, this little wretch had come along and all but shattered it.

Albert had watched you when you dashed back to your house. Well, it was barely yours; you had broken up the aging family that had lived there for decades in a matter of weeks…he hadn’t known who had done it but he had to admit he was impressed when he saw your little head bobbing along up and down the path to move in. There was no way in hell that it had been a coincidence.

And he had been right.

Too right.

There were no such thing as coincidences when it came to you.

Albert had half hoped that when he followed you home that day and scared you half to death driving after you, that you might flee, and leave his routine alone. But when you had gone home after touching the hood of his van, and had locked your doors and muttered to yourself “Im gonna getcha I’m gonna getcha getcha…” over and over as you took your sleeping pill, and didn’t even notice him in the dark corner of your living room…he had decided he wanted to know more.

But then when he finally had you right there…he realized too quickly that he had mistakenly underestimated you.

And he had realized how much he enjoyed it.

He thought that by figuring you out and having you confess, he would somehow gain the upper hand and feel that fear he had of you dissipate…but then you had sat yourself right there in his lap like a present and pulled that blade out from god knows where…and he hadn’t felt so alive in a very, very long time. He had wanted you to stab him, hurt him…but you didn’t. He had wanted for you both to tip over the invisible edge and have one come out the winner, but it didn’t happen. You both remained firmly planted on the edge, teetering precariously.

If it was a game you wanted, it was a game he would give you.

It started small.

You knew he wouldn’t simply let you carry on living as if everything was peachy-keen, and sunshine and rainbows. At first, you thought he might do exactly that, especially when the following morning was horribly dull. So boring in fact that you found for self waiting extra long before pulling out from your driveway, and even stood in the back alley a little too long while taking out the trash…just in case he would pounce. Admittedly, you started to think very poorly of the man, wondering if he really was all that he was made out to be, or if he was all bark and no bite.

Then came the next morning. That bright, early dawn brought with it a very sour taste in your mouth in the form of four very flat tires on your little car. It didn’t take a mechanic or even anyone with brains to see that they each had very neat stab marks in them from a sharp kitchen knife. You slowly brought your gaze up to the house across the street, and while you didn’t see him, you felt him. You knew Albert was watching you. You knew he was gloating in that sick satisfaction of rendering you helpless. It was impressive how heavy his stare was- it sent goosebumps up and down your arms without you even seeing it.

Albert watched you kneel down to inspect the juvenile slashes on your tires that he has inflicted. While sloppy, there had been something liberating about jabbing a knife into something with no clean-up after.

Eyes trained on you, he watched you nod, as if you were showing him you understood that the game had begun.

You felt yourself unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek as excitement began to take you.

However, while you wished you could have run to the older man watching you, and picked up where you had left off before max has interrupted, you had a part to play. You cast your gaze from left to right, then found your target; one of your neighbours further down the road had just left his house, and you knew his wife was still asleep. The change in your demeanour was instant- so instant that Albert nearly choked on his coffee when he laughed. Distress riddled your features as you began looking around frantically, as if the culprit would return at any moment to do something else. To your credit, even you started to believe that you were scared of the older man across the street as you imagined him coming after you with a knife. You knew he was intimidating, but there was the undeniable simmer of warmth that came over you in his presence, even then as you inspected the damage- knowing that Al had stood there so close to your home with a knife and had taken the time to stab each tire…you almost felt flattered.

Almost.

But mostly you felt ravenous. Your teeth itched at the memory of how his tanned skin had felt in your jaws, and how pretty those marks looked on him. You wondered if he had liked it…you hoped he did. If he had, it would make this all the more fun, but if he was a prude then you whined at the thought of having to break him in like new shoes.

You had slipped into full hysteria now, and in your state, you managed to gain the attention of the family man you had spotted on his way to work. Johnathan you thought his name was…something like that. He was a little too dumb for your liking, but he was nice, and trusting, and those were two attributes you needed in your “saviour” in that moment.

“E-excuse me?”You called out to the man. He did a quick look around the nearly empty neighborhood. but once he spotted you and seemed to confirm with himself that you were indeed speaking to him, you had his undivided attention. In fact, he even started to come towards you, and you were fairly certain he didn’t even realise it.

You began to walk to him, wringing your hands. “I’m so sorry to bother you…you’re on your way to work aren’t you?” You began, pretending like you cared about anything.

“I am, but what’s 5 minutes? You don’t seem to be doing alright, miss…” he seemed nice. Gentle, and as you had anticipated…a little dim.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming over here…it just- gosh I’m sorry I’m so rattled…but it seems I’ve been the target of some late night mischief…do you think you could give me a lift to work, sir?”you begged, pushing your breasts together to help him make a choice.

Albert watched you practically throw yourself at that bumbling idiot from a few houses down. It was comical to him now- you had your little routine down so perfectly as you told the moron about how your tires were slashed. John was his name, Albert recalled seeing him babbling at the yearly neighbourhood block party in the summer- always looking for someone’s ear to bend…someone to validate him. Worked as an accountant. Dull and stupid as they come, just good with numbers.

He breathed out a humourless laugh- you certainly knew your way around the cocks of Denver, even if you didn’t know what they all looked like. And John was the perfect man for you right then- a hopeless man who would very well give you his house if you rubbed up against him.

Al’s mind wandered, Albert felt himself throb in his pyjama pants as he stood there, remembering how you had felt in his lap. How warm you had been, and the friction of your cunt against his jeans. Your blade pressed to his throat and eyes all wild. You had looked crazed, and by god Al had wanted to take a piece of you…just a piece. He wanted to dissect it and know what made it tick.

Hear it

Smell it

Feel it

Taste it-

A twinge of pain cut Al’s thought’s short, and made him look down at his hand. Sure enough, some of the busted skin of his knuckles had opened and begun to bleed as his clenched fists pulled the skin tight over his bones.

The older man’s eye twitched.

You had done this to him. This was entirely your doing- everything had been fine until you rolled into Denver; he wasn’t about to let you get off that easy. The moment Albert had decided to take that knife out to your car, and the moment you had nodded in understanding upon finding the damage, a silent competition had begun. Now, with that confirmation, and knowing that you were both locked in for whatever kind of ride this torment would be, he was elated.

There was a game to be played, and you were not about to slack on playing it. To start, however, you needed time to plan, and time to execute. Making people worry about you wasn’t in your play-book, but when used appropriately when you did indeed chose to employ it, it worked in your favour. It seemed that the best course of action would be to feign sickness, so that you could excuse yourself easily in the next week should you need to keep up with any of Albert’s challenges. You had been sure that when that man from down the street dropped you off, you put on your best weakened demeanour and dry cough, which you had perfected once you had arrived at the diner. When Anett had asked if you were alright, you of course waved her off and told her you were fine…but she had insisted that you just manage the counter and didn’t serve; patting you on the back.

It was nearly laughable how easy it was.

With your car out of commission for a few days, you took it upon yourself to do the responsible thing and call in sick the day following the incident. You were, after all, a good girl in everyone’s eyes; more concerned about the well-being of any diner-goers than yourself. Getting anyone sick was the last thing you wanted.

Well, at least that was what you had everyone believing.

With a day off on your hands, you decided that you would make the most out of having the metaphorical ball in your court. A million and a half ideas went through your head to get Al back for the damage he did to your car, but you had your heart settled on one that would likely make those pretty eyes of his twitch, and his strong jaw clench. Certainly it would do nothing to weaken his pocket, but it had high possibilities of making you howl with laughter. And what was so wrong with amusing yourself?

You patted yourself on the back for having listened to Albert when he had off-handedly mentioned where he worked weeks ago. After an off-handed comment you had made about how fit he was for sitting an awful lot at home…he had been quick to snap at you that he did physical labour all day and that you should watch your mouth. After that you took the liberty of enjoying his sturdy frame a little more with the mental image of him huffing and grunting with heavy loads.

The store front of Floro Hardware Store came into view as you rounded the corner of the street, and you did your best to hide your grin. Under your breath, you compulsively muttered the same sentence over and over like it was a promise. “I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha getcha…” as you fixed your skirt and shirt.

You had noticed Mr. Shaw had a particular liking for your dresses and skirts that had made their way into your closet since the warm weather started; you nearly giggled to yourself when you remembered how he had almost driven you and him off the road that day you had hopped into his van and bent over the seat to get a popsicle.

Poor old fuck.

The bell above the door rang and you let your eyes drop open like a doe; looking around hopelessly and helplessly in the hardware store. It became abundantly obvious that females were not a common sight in that particular establishment, and your presence stuck out like a sore thumb; by the turn of every head when you entered, everyone else was very much aware of that fact. You slowly walked up to the counter and pouted to yourself when Al wasn’t there immediately to greet you. In his place was a young man. It looked as if he had been slapped in the face by a ghost moments earlier as he stared at you, and you hid your scheming grin as best as you could.

Action.

“Excuse me, could you help me?” You asked sweetly. You placed your forearms on the counter and let your breasts push up - something this young man very much noticed.

It took him three seconds to look up from your cleavage, and a whole five seconds before he finally managed to speak.

“Y-yes. Yes I’m here for you- well not just um…for you- uh but I- I can help.” He stuttered out, ears turning red by the second.

Man…Albert was a poor old fuck for almost busting in his pants, but at least I would have gotten wet over it…this poor boy is about to explode in his pants and call his mom to pick him up and buy him an ice cream.

Ice cream….

You mentally punched yourself for not purchasing an ice cream before turning up to the shop to taunt Al. The look on his face would have been delectable.

“You’re so sweet…um, I need to get a car jack…do you sell those here?” You inquired, batting your eyes, and running your finger in a circle on the wood counter.

“W-we don’t have a lot…I’m uh- that’s more of a mechanic thing.” He said, scratching his neck.

“Oh?” You pouted, and looked embarrassed at your misunderstanding.

His eyes widened. “B-but we do have some! They’re just down here.” He clumsily made his way out from behind the counter and began walking deeper into the store. As soon as he passed you, you let your blush fade and you eyelids drop so as to give yourself a break for a moment. In true teenage fashion, the boy smelled like body odour and some sort of hair product that made you grimace.

“They’re just down there, um..do you know what you need?” He asked.

“I’m not too sure…you seem awfully smart though, think you could help little old me figure it out?” You touched his arm lightly and shrugged like a clueless bimbo.

He blushed and looked down at the jacks. , clearly not knowing what to say as his mind went blank. You grinned and put your hands on your hips as you thought. “I have a Ford Pinto…someone slashed the tires and I-“

“Emmet?”

You both froze. Emmet from the fact that his boss was calling him and you from the rush of excitement that struck you like lightning at the sound of said boss. Menace or not, Albert’s voice now meant ‘fun’ to you.

“I-I’ll be right there Mr. Shaw.” The young man stuttered, his face flushed and sweaty.

You stifled a giggle as you stared up at him, and covered your mouth when you heard the heavy footfalls of big, bad, boss man.

“What did I tell you about leaving the register like that? You know someone could just walk in a-“ Albert came to the aisle that held you and Emmet it in, and he came to a standstill. Ridged.

You both stared at one another, and you gleefully watched him fight to not take in your appearance. The skirt that barely came mid thigh and shirt that left little to the imagination. If you were honest you missed your more comfortable clothes…but you had a game to win and if giving up comfort meant just that, then so be it.

“Sorry, Mr. Shaw- I was j-just helping this lady-“

“That’s fine, back to the front…” Al nodded towards the front, signalling for the young employee to leave, “I’ll take care of this young woman.” He made little to no effort to hide his irritation.

Neither of you even watched Emmet scurry away, though you decided to add one more log to the fire, “Thank you for taking such good care of me Emmet!” You called after him, eyes locked on Al’s.

Now, as you were finally left alone with the older man, you smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, grandpa.” You teased him, “So…is he your demographic or do you like younger?”

The older man’s eye twitched and by god you wanted to kiss the skin that pulled ever so slightly at the tick. Or perhaps bite it.

“What the fuck do you want?” He growled as he took a few steps closer to you.

You hummed and looked down at the heavy jacks on the lower shelf. “Well you see, Mr. Shaw, I was a victim of a vehicular violation…and I take violations very seriously.” You cooed, bending over as if you were checking the prices. You knew you were offering Albert a very full view of your panties that were tight against your plump lower lips; practically begging to be kissed. You wondered what it would feel like to have his mouth against-

“You and I both know you had a damn tow truck take your car away this morning.” He rasped, taking another step into the aisle.

“Did I? I’m so forgetful.” You pretended to think.

You were about to straighten up when you felt a firm hand at the base of your neck pull you up. You almost gasped but another hand over your mouth swiftly dashed that possibility. Albert shoved you against the far wall at the end of the aisle, and you did your best to look afraid and confused instead portraying how excited you were. A fight in that store would be exhilarating.

“Look you little bitch…you’re going to listen to me.” His rough voice almost began to gain a strange, playful lilt to it, and you wondered if this was how he spoke to his victims, “Do not try to wedge yourself into my life like it’s something you deserve. What you deserve is to go find another town and fuck it up. Stay away from Denver.”

You watched him closely, and muttered out “Or what, Mr. Shaw?” Against his hand, which came out muffled but it seemed he was talented in understanding muffled voices.

“There is no “or what.” I’m tired of you here, and I have a certain amount of respect for…someone like you. So get out of here while I still have that.” He whispered.

Your eyes slowly hardened, and you truly couldn’t help yourself, not when he was being so condescending to you. No one told you what to do, and even though you wouldn’t mind Albert Shaw doing just that in a different setting, this was not that time. So while those thick finger still sat over your mouth, you sunk your teeth into two of them hard and bit down until he wrenched his hand away.

“God- fucking hell…you need a damn muzzle.” Albert hissed, and clenched his hand. You noticed again, that he only took a step away, and that his pants looked to be…uncomfortable.

“You alright there Mr. Shaw? You look a little riled up.” You mocked.

Albert held his hand in a tight fist, weighing it in his hand like he was debating having you eat it or not. Evidently, when he took another step to the end of the aisle and looked straight ahead to the front of the store, he chose not to attempt to send you to the hospital.

“Just get out. Don’t let me see you here again.” He muttered.

His choice disappointed you, but did not surprise you. You pouted, and walked towards him none the less. This was meant to be a game, and it certainly wasn’t over yet. As you passed him,you made sure to brush against his front and let a breathy moan escape you to see if it would send him over the edge. Make his cool demeanour shatter.

It didn’t.

And then, the ball was in Al’s court.

The stunt you pulled at his work resulted in both a pesky and almost titillating turn of events. Each morning, and nearly every night, you came to find that Albert was now enjoying the pleasure of moving various items in your home. Water glasses placed where your feet would sit the ground; toilet paper hidden, shampoo emptied; hair ties in your freezer, and panties gone- your least favourite, just to name a few. He even moved your medications and you noticed that he thoroughly enjoyed leaving cabinets open and moving furniture just an inch or so in the way so your would walk right into them; he must like how bruises looked on you.

It didn’t seem to matter how many locks you bought, or traps you set, Albert always managed to get inside, and mess with your safe haven. It became a constant reminder that you had thrown any hope of a haven out the window when you decided to try and seduce Al that night when he was battered. Not that you regretted it- it had been the most fun you’d had in years. You gathered the high it gave you was likely similar to the high of a line of cocaine.

To answer his little home invasions, you took it upon yourself to pick his lock and leave a pair of your panties square in the middle of his bed. Seeing as he was intent of touching all of your belongings, why not just give him one?

By a stroke of luck, while you followed him that same day to a local park, you came to find that you were, in fact, witnessing one of his stalking escapades. To add more fuel to the metaphorical fire, took it upon yourself to be a good bystander and inform the adolescents he was watching that the Grabber would get them if they weren’t careful. Of course they were sceptical at first, but with a quick “How can you be so sure?” And a nod to a conspicuous black van down the street, you watched as they hopped on their bikes and scrambled home. All you heard following that was the screech of tires as said black van peeled out of the neighbourhood. Interfering with each other’s hunting hadn’t been a part of the game yet, and you knew that by introducing the new rule it opened up a plethora of possibilities.

This stunt had earned you a particularly nasty retort by Albert.

Your evening had initially gone perfectly. With your car in the shop still, you had opportunity after opportunity to exploit your inconvenience. This particular night, you had desperately needed a ride home after work, and you counted your lucky stars when a familiar face had just so happened to be walking by where you had been standing. Not that he needed to know that you had walked three blocks to “bump” into him, or stalked his schedule for a week.

“Th-thanks again for driving me home…I owe you.” You said gently, grabbing a glass to fill with water for him.

Steven -you had learned his name was- had indeed been your knight in shining armour that night. He was leaned against the counter, smiling. “Oh it’s my pleasure…Not like we’re total strangers, right?” He replied.

Not strangers at all.

You laughed gently and shrugged as you passed the glass to him, “I suppose not…your sure your wife doesn’t mind? I’d hate to make you late for dinner.”

“Hm?” He looked down at you from taking a sip, “Oh Nancy and I are used to opposite schedules…she’s a night clerk so, uh…I’m all yours.” He tilted his head and winked at you so fast you almost didn’t see it.

You let a blush grace your cheeks and you fidgeted, falling into your routine. “You know…um…I- Sorry would you like to sit?” You stumbled over your words, and nodded to the couch. It seemed your suggestions elated Steven, and you had to admit you were too; the knife strapped to your thigh was making you itch with anticipation.

The spot you took on the couch was perhaps a touch too close as your knees brushed against one another, and his quick intake of breath was exactly what you wanted.

“Can I ask you something?” You muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Yea, defiantly.” He replied as he moved a touch closer to settle in.

You sighed, and looked embarrassed.

“Why…why are you here with me? Right now?” You asked.

You’re here before I made sure you would be, but that’s besides the point.

For a moment, Steven looked confused, and you knew it was just as fake as your tale of needing a ride home, but of course you played along. This man knew exactly what you were saying, but he wasn’t about to let that on- he had a part to play too after all; an innocent husband who was simply trying to help a young woman out and certainly didn’t want to get his dick wet in her.

“Why am I-..? I gave you a lift, remember?…a-are you feeling alright?” He even went so far as to touch your knee with his hand.

You gave an audible gasp.

Steven’s eyes searched yours, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you bashfully looked up at him. His eyelids grew heavy, realizing just how close you were to one another.

“Yes, yes I’m fine…I-I don’t know…I’m…I’m just nervous I suppose.” You admitted, a shiver running down your spine, “Forget I asked, it was a stupid question…”

“Nervous about what? Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” He cooed to you, and you felt your heart skip.

“No…it’s just-“

“Just?”

“I like you…have for a while…” you caved, and looked away, shrugging one shoulder.

He was so close, his lips almost brushing yours.

Steven let out a breathy laugh, “Have you now? Well I suppose that makes two of-“

Knock knock knock.

The jarring sound caused you both to jump apart from one another as your heads whipped towards the front door. A bolt of dread shot through you when you saw blinking red lights come through the window. Dread settled deep in your stomach at the thought of the authorities finally catching up with you.

You looked at Steven and he looked at you, eyes wide. You were almost certain he was about the jump out the window and run; most likely thinking Nancy had somehow found out about the two of you and had called the cops on you.

“One moment…” you said and stood, crossing the room to the door and opened it. You were greeted with a very burly man in a full fireman’s uniform and a firm expression on his face.

You swallowed.

“Good evening ma’am…we received a call regarding a strong smell of gas emitting from your home…everything alright here?” He asked, casting his eyes around the interior of your home. You blinked and shook your head.

“No- no nothing…I haven’t noticed a thing.” You said.

The fireman nodded, “Mind if we check any outlets and gas lines? Can’t be too careful.” He stated more than asked.

You knew that if you said no he would only push more, and you also knew that any hopes of roping Steven in tonight were dashed thanks to the scare, so you shook your head. “Not at all. Please, come in.”

He shuffled past you, and for the next ten minutes you waited as three firemen checked your home. Of course, your mind was already beginning to spin as you thought of how this might have happened.

On the couch, Steven sat awkwardly; part mortified at being caught in your home and partly because he had been attempting to calm the hard cock in his pants. The idea of hauling him into your bedroom and locking the door fleeted through your mind, though you decided against it…Steven was done, and scared off, at least for the night. If you wanted him to play your game you needed to start all over again, and you were too tired.

Tired, and angry.

In fact, you were fuming.

There was no use in pretending that you weren’t. You had been working on Steven for months ever since he looked at you longer than he should have that first when you got off the bus. If it werent for the very charming driver for the fire truck keeping you company, you would have been tapping your foot and carving a hole in the door frame.

“I’m sorry you have to wait like this ma’am, it’s a real cold night.” He said, looking around at the beiludet neighbours of yours that took up upon themselves to inspect what was going on.

You sighed

“I just don’t know who would have called it in…it makes no sense. I haven’t even been home all day so-“ you caught yourself mid sentence and felt your eye spasm.

No…

Your ears started ringing as realization dawned on you. Very slowly, you turned your head to gaze across the street, and when you saw Albert Shaw standing on his front step eating an apple, you thought your teeth might break from how tightly you clenched your jaw. He stared back at you with a grin that could only be described as evil.

“You alright ma’am?”

You could barely make out the voice of the fireman in front of you.

A wave of rage washed over you, when you saw the elder Shaw shoot you a wink to match his grin before disappearing back into his house. He knew he was untouchable so long as the firemen where there, and if you did come to him and pick a fight, he was beyond ready.

You looked back to the driver and smiled sweetly, “I live near a lot of elderly folks…you know how paranoid they can get. I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”

The man laughed lightly and nodded, “Tell me about it…pretty sure my nana wanted me to be a firefighter just so I could rescue her old cat every week and get paid for it.”

You laughed along, pretending like you didn’t want to stab the closest thing to you. Sadly it would have been him if you didn’t have your self control in check.

The man, evidently intent on distracting you, continued his onslaught of stories from work that made him laugh. As your anger began to subside, and the ringing in your ears turned into his voice, you began to notice how nice it was. He was sweet. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair that had a little silver to it and a sharp smile…and a pretty gold band on his finger too.

Your blood began to run hotter in your veins as you locked onto the yellow metal. You wondered if his marriage was happy…if he kissed his wife goodbye everyday or if they hadn’t spoken in a week. Were they friends or like roommates? Was he a father?

“-then my buddy had to catch the other side of the stretcher because I was about ready to pass out an-“

“What- um,” you mindlessly cut him off, finally looking up at him instead of at the house across the street. He seemed taken aback by your sudden ability to talk, “…gosh, I’m sorry…but what was your name, sir?” You asked, shyly. It seemed he found your faux coyness endearing.

He grinned. “Marc.” He replied, and held his hand out to you to shake, which you did just as the other men came out from your home.

The man in front heaved a sigh and gave a tight lipped smile.

“Welp, all clear here. Sorry to bother you ma’am.” He said as he guided the others back to the massive red truck.

You blushed as you stepped out of their way but bumped into Marc.

“Oh it’s miss.” You said, ducking your head down a little while they stopped to speak with you, “Thank you for being so thorough…I’m glad nothing was wrong.”

“Just doing our jobs, miss. Keeping you safe is number one on our priority list.” They nodded, and each of them cracked a smile at how embarrassed you seemed to be.

It never ceased to amaze you how much men latched onto a sky or feeble woman. It was easy to assume it wasn’t everyday they got a call that involved a pretty little thing all worried in a sundress and blushing for them. And of course it wasn’t everyday that you were surrounded by men twice your size, telling you they were there to protect you.

They left after another moment, but you didn’t miss how Marc cast you one last look before driving the massive vehicle away. He even waved a little, which you returned.

You grinned. Not a total loss to an evening…

“What a night…” came Steven’s voice behind you.

Your eyes had glazed over as you imagined Marc under you, telling you he loved you.

“Hm?” You hummed as you refocused , “Yes…I’m so sorry about all that…” you sighed, “Theres a lot of elderly families here and while I love them, I think they can be a little paranoid.”

Half true.

But saying that you have a homicidal magician living across from you who you’re in a battle of wits with simply didnt seem right.

Steven said something about needing to head home, but that he would call you. You knew you said something back- something he wanted to hear- but your eyes were glued to the house across the street. You knew Steven wouldn’t call you. You knew that you wouldn’t see him except for at that coffee shop; knew that he would be terrified of Nancy finding out about his continued infidelity that you knew he struggled with since that first day you saw him stumble out of the pub with his friend when you stepped off the greyhound downtown.

“I’m gonna getcha…” You chanted in your head.

And you fully intended on doing just that. Though you weren’t certain what you would do if you did get Albert…it didn’t bother you one bit. You wanted to get him, and whatever else that entailed.

Knock knock knock

Your knuckles rapped against the front door of 7740 Irving St. And you stepped forward enough to crowd whoever opened the door. Only a few moments passed before you heard Max muttering “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” over the sound of Samson barking. You put on your best smile when the door opened and waved brightly.

“Morning Max! Could I bother you for a minute?” You chirped.

Max looked…unkept. You wondered how long ago he had woken up, and gathered it had to have been no longer than half an hour ago. He stared down at you for a moment, his unlit cigarette hanging there on his lip, “Sure thing. Come on in.” He said, standing aside and waving his arm dramatically like he was a half-dead showman.

For a man so paranoid of the world around him you were surprised by his lack of any guard…or if he had it he hid it well.

Once you came to stand in the living-room, you clasped your hands together and looked down , even wringing your wrists.

“This is going to sound so strange but…I was wondering if I could steal one of Al’s shirts?” You asked bashfully.Max’s eyes went wide and he stared at you confused. This request must have been odd enough for him to sober up a little.

You sighed and pretended to come clean, even avoiding his gaze to sell it.

“I-I know it must sound weird but Al was wearing this one the other day and it was just so cool and I’m pretty sure it was vintage…he said I could borrow it sometime and I totally forgot to pop in earlier…I don’t think he would mind though if I just grabbed it. Is that alright?” You pushed, laying in every ounce of charm you could to get your way. You knew it was odd and that if Max was in his right mind he would ask more questions, but you hoped you caught him before he was able to sober up too much.

A moment or two passed. You were about ready to push harder, but it seemed you didn’t need to.

“Y-yeah, I think that would be okay.” He said, nodding with his hands on his hips like he was capable of making a judgement call.

As if he had a choice.

A bright smile adorned your face.“You’re the best! I owe you.” You said, already walking into the house towards Al’s bedroom. It seemed Max didn’t question how you knew where his older brothers room was, and you were thankful for it. Not that questions would stop you, but they were tedious to deal with.

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you shut the door behind you and took a deep breath- inhaling the smell of Albert Shaw. For a moment, your head spun; you wondered about everything that had happened in that room alone. You wondered how he looked laying in his bed; sleeping, reading; cock in hand, cumming over a magazine….

But you didn’t have time for that.

You walked to his dresser, and pulled open drawers until you found his shirts. It didn’t take long for you to find one you liked, but you took your time nonetheless to ensure you did this right. You knew he was in your house often enough, and you felt it was only fair to enjoy being in his space; ensure that he was aware of your close presence.

It seemed that a burnt orange button up became your favourite, and you laid it on the bed to inspect your decision- touching the buttons fondly. Everything smelled like him. Of course it did, and it started to make your head dizzy.

“Any luck?”

You were snapped out of your daze when Max’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Yep! I’ll be out in just a second.” You called back with an eerily cheerful voice that how emotionless your face was.

Anticipation filled you for what was to come. You knew shoving Al’s privacy if his face would rattle him, but by god you hoped he snapped. Before long, you were replacing your own shirt with the button up, and tucking it into your skirt and putting your blouse in his drawer.

You jumped with excitement for a moment, then quickly walked to the door and moved through to the living room where Max flipped threw the TV channels. “I owe you Max!” You called. He said something back, but you didn’t hear it as you ran out; intent on getting to a certain hardware store that now counted you as a regular customer.

You are practically bouncing by the time you opened the door, and truly couldn’t hide the vicious smile you dawned when you saw that Al was right there at the counter, engrossed in an inventory sheet. The bell rang, and you saw his customer service face automatically take over his handsome features.

“Good mor-“ he started, but his greeting cut off as soon as he saw you; his eyes narrowed and he sucked on his teeth as he took in the very familiar shirt, “What the fuck are you wearing?”

You shrugged and sauntered up to him without a care, “I wear skirts all the time, you know that Mr. Shaw.”

The crows feel beside his eyes were as prominent as the crevice between his brows as he glowered at you.

“You know I’m not talking about that little skirt, kiddo. Stop breaking into my damn house.” He rasped, putting his clipboard down and crossing his arms; you tried and failed to not enjoy how the tendons and muscles stretched under his skin as he did so. You wondered just how strong he was… if that had been his full strength the other night or if he was holding back.

You pouted like you knew he hated, and leaned up onto the counter, knowing very well that you had left enough buttons undone for him to see that you were wearing a lacy black bra that barely contained your breasts. “You didn’t like my panties last week?”

Albert’s eye twitched.

As did his cock.

Of course he had hated the panties. He hated how he imagined how they would sit against your cunt, stretched over your lips, trying to soak up your slick but failing as it dripped down your soft thighs. He hated how he had to sit in his bed with his legs spread wide as he wrapped them around his hand and pumped his thick cock until he came all over his fingers. He hated how once hadn’t been enough.

“No.” Al stated, barely moving an inch. It was only when the bell above the door chimed that he dropped the scowl and put a smile on his face, “Morning!” He called to the customer, his voice going up in a lilt that made a shiver run down your spine.

Your ears began to heat up, and your panties suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Once the man disappeared down one of the aisles, Albert turned back to you and it was too little too late for you to recover from the unpleasantly pleasant feeling forming between your legs. It seemed that Al noticed just as soon as you did when your cheeks coloured pink, and you suddenly stopped holding his stare just for a moment.

Albert leaned over the counter to you, but regardless of your situation, you didn’t move. Even as you stared at a chip in the worden counter and squeezed your thighs together.

“Something bothering you there, kiddo?” He cooed to you in that same, high voice that made you feel so small.

To save yourself from humiliation, you fixed your face, stared him in the eyes and smiled. “Nothing at all, Mr. Shaw, just enjoying the nice smell of this shirt I’m wearing.” You tilted your head to the collar, and took a deep breath.

Albert’s eyes widened. It seemed he hadn’t expected that.

“Get out of here. And wash my shirt before you return it.” He snapped, placing his palms down on the counter, rings making a ding against the wood.

But you just smiled wider. “Oh I’ll have to…I know, between you and me.” You leaned forward into his space until you were just a breath away, “I think I’ll have to take this to the dry cleaners…don’t think my poor washing machine will be able to handle the mess I’m going to make wearing this later in bed.”

You felt your stomach grow warm when his ears began to go red. Your eyes flicked between his, daring him to scream at you, pull you over the counter or haul you into the back and do unspeakable things to you…anything.

But Albert had what you lacked.

Control. Great…deep control.

“Get out.” He whispered; words turning to air against your own lips.

“Always a pleasure Mr. Shaw.” You chirped.

You were gone and out the door before he could even catch one more glimpse down your…his shirt.

Albert rubbed his eyes. “God dammit…”

The starched collar of your uniform made you itch for a moment- for some reason you just couldn’t get comfortable that day. It was easy to tell anyone who asked if you were alright that you just weren’t feeling your best, but there was no tricking yourself; you were bothered. It had been two days since you taunted Al at his work, in his shirt, and you could still hear his voice in your head. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you had slipped your hand between your thighs…you were always left wanting-

“Sugar could you be an angel and take the trash round back? We’re making a record today I swear.” Anett called to you as you wiped down an empty table.

You gagged in your mind, but nodded and smiled, “Sure thing.”

The smell of grease permeated the air as you walked back through the kitchen from the front; sure enough there were two large trash bags sitting waiting for you. Judging by the smell, you didn’t want to know what was in them, though you knew you had certainly cleaned up far worse messes than those. Something about blood made it so much easier to clean than old diner food though…it seemed so tranquil and simple. No smell, no worries. Just water and bleach.

With a deep breath away from the bags, you used your hip to open the back door, and grasped both bags; they weighed a tonne, and would have been easier to carry one at a time but, you weren’t about to be back there any longer than you needed. You hauled one into the bin, and grabbed the neck of the other-

“Need a hand there kid?”

The kid of the garbage bin slipped from your hand and landed with a resounding bang. Your hairs stood on end.

What was that old saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

Hell, Albert must have been right up there with old Satan because you didn’t even have to say his name for him to sneak up on you.

Of course, the last thing you wanted to do was to let on just how startled you were by his sudden presence, nor how a heat shot directly down to your navel at the sound of that strange lilt- it wasn’t like his ego needed more of a boost.

“The entrance is around the other side, sir.” You said, lifting the lid again without turning around.

You heard him breathe out a laugh, and the shuffle of his feet as he took a step- presumably towards you.

“I think the entrance I’m looking for is right here, sweetheart.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and held the lid open, giving theatrical wave as you turned around, “Climb right in.”

Albert tucked his keys into his pocket as he watched you deposite the other bag. It made him laugh to himself at the image of you in such a domestic position such as throwing out a bag of trash; he had watched you drag dark garbage bags around countless times, but with far more incriminating excrement than what you dealt with right at that moment. You looked so human to him that he almost thought he made up the depraved things you got up to in your spare time.

Almost.

If he hadn’t committed said crimes to his memory, and the mental image of you with it he might have…but he had yet to get the vision of you covered in blood from his mind. So rabid.

“You really do have quite the mouth on you…you know that, Princess?” The older man chided, watching you closely as you seemed to make no move to escape him.

“Yours ain’t that wonderful either, Mister.” You replied, hands coming to your hips.

Albert’s eye spasmed, but his firm grin didn’t falter, in fact if anything his teeth shone through a little more. If your bite hadn’t been as hard as his you might have cowered away from such a predator.

The two of you stood there for a long ten seconds.

Nether of you moving an inch, neither of you looking away.

Locked.

It wasn’t until a door shut somewhere down the alley that Al cast a slow look around. It seemed that what me saw satisfied him enough to take a step forward, and let his hands drop to his sides. The hairs on your body began to stand on end as goosebumps sprung up. Albert was smiling. And not just any smile; it was comfortable, and while that might not have put you on edge, his arms so comfortably limp at his hips made you watch him a little closely. There was something sinister to seeing anyone so at ease.

“Is there anything you don’t have a response to, kid?” He sucked on his teeth bitterly, “You just never know when to quit or when you’re out-done.” Al spoke so casually, you almost forgot what he could likely do to you with no one knowing.

He took another step, slow enough for you to almost not notice.

Almost.

You shrugged and slammed the bin closed, “A girl’s gotta be prepared, Mr. Shaw. There’s an oughta lot of creeps out there.”

Another step.

“I’ve heard. You’d better be careful who you trust…you might get yourself in a sticky situation.” Albert’s gaze began to burn into you. Certainly you could hold your own against him but there was something so deliberate about that stare of his that afternoon. So precise.

“I’m a big girl. Think I can handle any of those creeps that think they can take me…they’re stupid if they think so.” You replied as unbothered as possible.

Another step.

You had forgotten how tall he was.

Truly how much bigger he was than you.

You refused to believe he was stronger though.

You so badly wanted to stand your ground. Every bit of your stubborn mind told you to not move, let him get in your space but don’t move. Then, the closer he got, you truly couldn’t help but take a small step back.

Tiny.

Minuscule.

Barely a breath of a step. But it was enough. Enough to let Albert know that he had you.

You bit your inner lip at your weakness- you might as well have offered your neck for him to bite into.

“See…I think you’re a whole hell of a lot more scared than you let on, kiddo.” He said, continuing his slow stalk towards you, and you in turn gave in to your retreat.

“Oh? Of what?” You chirped with a childish grin as you held onto the fight you had left in you. As if he would know…

Albert shrugged comically, and shook is finger at you.

“I don’t know yet…but something tells me you have a need for attachment, don’t you?” His smile stretched.

A sharp pain stabbed your heart. Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but just like your small step back had been, it was enough. A simple, small tell. A crack in your perfect façade.

“Ah…makes sense.” He mused, “All those men who you so desperately want to love you…but none of them live up to what you want do they?” He hummed in that singsong voice that made your nipples harden.

You knew he had watched you on those nights you played with your prey, but you didn’t know he heard you. “Tell me you love me…” it was the same thing every time…they never said it. Or they never meant it.

You smiled like you weren’t shaken by the idea of him knowing, and shrugged in hopes that the terror building inside of you wouldn’t show. “Well if that’s what I’m needing then what’s your deal, old man? Daddy a little too mean to you so you’re beating the shit out of little boys to try and understand why you were treated so badly?”

Albert stopped.

You smiled wider. “Oh that’s it isn’t it? You’re just a sad old fu-“

Albert’s large, veiny hand was wrapped around your throat and lifting you up against the wall he smashed you into before you could finish your taunt. In your need to save face, you missed how close he had gotten to you. Your head hit the cold cement of the side of the building with a hard thud that made your mind spin in a dizzy circle.

“Someone’s going to have to teach you some fucking manners one of these days and you’re not going to like it.” He seethed, breathing your air like it belonged to him.

“If it’s you doing it then I might like it a little.” You chirped as if your vision wasn’t going starry.

He laughed in your face.

“Yea? I bet you’d enjoy it until my belt started to paint a pretty, red marks on your back.” Albert’s brows came down heavy over his eyes.

“Tell me more.” You ground out. In a last ditch effort, you used his ego to your advantage and waited until he thought you’d pass out before bringing your knee up into his ribs.

Albert gasped out for a moment, lending you enough time to sink your teeth into the meat of his hand, and knocking his ear. The subsequent ringing in his head disoriented him for a moment, and you were about to push him over into the dirt before returning to work when adrenaline gripped him; Albert let out a sound you could only call a growl, then before you knew it, your back was against the wall again, but this time his hand wasn’t the only thing holding you off the ground. His thick thigh nestled between your legs and kept you perched there whether you liked it or not. The grip he had on you now was not just to keep you there, it was to prove a point; that he was faster, bigger and better than you. Certainly you were younger and very fast and equally strong, but there comes a certain extra advantage to being older. The ability to anticipate is something that can only come with age, and you had yet to get to his level.

Poor thing.

“Princess, you’re fucking impossible, you know that?” He half laughed, half rasped out as he pressed you against the concrete with his chest, barely leaving room for you to breathe. “My van is just down the end of this alley, I could take you right now and no one would care would they?”

You bit your lip- refusing to give him any satisfaction. You tasted blood from how hard you bit down.

“They wouldn’t even fucking notice, huh? You think you’re so damn important and loved, don’t you? Tell me.” Albert ran his nose along your cheek, Au hung in a breath by your ear.

“Answer me!”He lifted you up a little more on his thigh, and your feet were completely off the ground. You felt like some little doll of his. But then he knocked you on his muscle to get a better grip on you, and the friction rubbed your clit perfectly. You couldn’t help it: you gasped.

Albert froze, and those hard blue eyes of his trained so intently on yours that you thought he might see through you.

Then a look passed over his face that made your stomach flip. It was like a dare. He did the same movement as if to test you, or to confirm with himself that you had indeed reacted in such a way. And just like before, you truly were betrayed by your body when your hips rocked against him.

Your eyes began to sting as your vicious walls began to crumple under his touch. Sure you had been intimate before with men, but there was something about the cruel nature of his that matched yours; your veins were ablaze with scorching blood.

“You…” he was at a loss for words.

She…wants this?

As the thought filtered through his head, something crossed his mind. Albert took his free hand that wasn’t around your throat and pinned your hip to the wall, taking away any ability you had to move. A soft whine emitted from you and you feebly tried to fight against him as if you still believed you wouldn’t give anything in the world to come right there on his thigh.

“P-please.” You whimpered before you could stop yourself. You wanted to thibg it was a plea for him to stop and let you go, but you both knew it was a beg for more. For closure. A deep, carnal need.

Albert huffed out a puff of air that fanned across your face and you stared up at him- dazed as your arousal clouded your head. All you needed in that moment was the friction to return.

Albert guided your hips this time, dragging you against his jeans and you cried out- much to his pleasure. Your sensitivity was beyond anything the older man had seen with his own eyes; you felt as if you were a new toy he was trying to figure out. He, in turn, watched as your dress bunched up around your hips and the dark mark you were making.

“Jesus, kiddo…you wearing any panties?” He asked incredulously.

You nodded desperately.

“Yea? Those little black ones I wanted to rip off you? Bet you would have liked that huh? Wouldn’t even learn your lesson…you’d just do the same over all over again, hm?” Albert tightened his grip on your throat as he continued to move your soaked pussy against his thigh. You could feel the tip of his hardening cock each time you rocked against him, and your mind began to short circuit at the thought of having it inside you. How he would stretch you, and force you to fit his length inside you. How warm his cum would be as he filled you…

In your daze, you forgot to answer him, and he tightened his hand even more, “Answer me.” He growled, grinding against you erratically.

But you could only moan out as the air was blocked from your windpipe.

Someone could so easily walk past you both, but it seemed you collectively did not care. If anything it spurred you on- the idea of someone seeing you being taken advantage of made you clench down around nothing and you were keenly aware of how empty you were.

“You’re a disgusting little thing…” he chided. You knew he was starting to lose it just as much as you- his words were breathier, and his mouth was practically on yours as he spoke.

Then, as if you both couldn’t help it anymore, your lips collided in a painfully messy kiss. Your teeth hurt as they clanked against his and your tongue was abused by his, but you cried out a desperate moan as you humped shamelessly at his well muscled thigh. Your clit almost hurt from how stimulated it was.

To your dismay, his hand left your throat, but then you felt both come to your hips, bringing you to his groin as he rutted his cock against you. You gasped out into his mouth when you felt it firmly press into your flesh; you could only imagine how thick it was, and how painful taking the tip would be…

His bit at your lip, and sucked on your tongue. Your mind started to go blank as your orgasm built, and apparently your mounting whines and moans and pleas were enough for Albert to understand. “That’s it, come on…atta girl, come on you can do it…you’re gonna come right here on my fucking thigh…” he rasped against your lips, “You hear me?”

You nodded, and began to babble incoherently. “P-please I cant- I’m gonna…god- please d- don’t let me go, I’ll come -d-daddy!” You didn’t mean for that to slip out, but you couldn’t care. Evidently it was enough to send Albert over the edge of his own orgasm.

He groaned against your mouth.

“Fucking- god you’re a little whore…my little fucking whore…I won’t let you go- fu- I got yo-you.” He ground out as his hot sticky cum coated the inside of his pants. You nodded helplessly, and let go as he continued to use you to ride out his high. You released one of his shoulders to cover your mouth, but he ripped it away and sealed his lips over yours as you came. Your hips twitched and you felt your cum soak into his pants, likely leaving a stain. Your thighs were sticky, and you swore your dress would be ruined.

Your heart beat erratically in your chest, and pulsed in your ears. For one long minute, you couldn’t think and could hardly register that your lips were still moving against his. You could taste blood, and something sweet that made you never want to part from him. Then, very slowly, you both pulled apart- a cold string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your eyes lazily locked onto his, and under his blissful gaze, you felt like the only thing in the world to him.

Your eyes stung, and words ached on your tongue that you couldn’t say.

He sighed, and pushed your hair out of your face.

“Let that be a lesson to not test your neighbours, princess…there’s some creeps out there.” He murmbered against you, then his thigh was gone from between your legs.

“W-what?” Your heart sunk down to your ankles as you watched him right himself, and pat your cheek.

“Do me a favour,” he said, already turning to leave, “Leave a window open tonight…I’m an old man and I’d rather have an easy entrance.” He called over his shoulder.

You felt scorched and frozen as he walked away as if he didn’t have two large stains on his jeans. Your head spun almost painfully while you tried to grasp what had just happened.

“What the fuck…” you whispered shakily to yourself.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

You spun around to the sound of your name, and righted yourself just in time before Anett poked her head out from the back door, her brows pinched in worry, “You alright there, sugar?” she asked, looking around.

In your peripheral was a black van pulling away, and a very devious older man casting one last look your way; as soon as your vision cleared of the vehicle, you smiled easily and waved your hand like you had a juice story Anett just wouldn’t believe, “Oh yea, a delivery guy needed help, and asked if I’d give him a hand. Dumbass tried to feel me up so I gave him a pretty crooked nose.” You answered as steadily as you could as if your clit wasn’t still pulsing and your cum wasn’t sticking your thighs together.

Evidently it was sufficient enough of an answer for your manager, who rolled her eyes and nodded as if she knew exactly what you were talking about. As she began to go on about men and how unsafe the world was, your eyes glazed over; your mind was reeling at a mile a minute as it tried to process exactly what had happened in the alley between you and Albert. Certainly it was not the first time you had engaged in something akin to that, but what you hadn’t anticipated was…him. Albert Shaw. He was some kind of unpredictable piece of shrapnel that was wedged between your ribs; you could feel him with every breath even as you strode back onto the tile floor of the diner.

The feeling of his hands was embedded into your skin like a brand, and you couldn’t help but discreetly touch where his skin had met yours. How he had unabashedly ridden out his desire for you like you owed him. Albert didn’t hold back like the others did…and there was little for you to do but play every move over and over repeatedly in your mind. He had wanted you. Craved you. You flushed red and your breath caught in your throat when you thought that he might need you.

A question began to circulate in your head.

Do I need him?

You had never needed anyone before, and you truly didn’t know how to rationalize it.

Most of all you thought of how the world had seemed to simply melt away as soon as he had pressed you against that concrete wall; there had just been Al, and his thigh between your legs, warm breath on your cheeks, and his words in your ears…

Do I need him?

Yes. Yes I do.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255 @ethanhoewke @honeycovered-bandaids @dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @theroadreader2 @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @ebiemidnightlibrarian @katehawke e @blep-bloop @ratpackash @al-shaw @darkvoidz @belladonnaaura @pecter-specter @samhainrain @turtle-boris

[perplexedflower]

Overhaul Headcanons

Fandom: My Hero Academia.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Kai Chisaki/Overhaul x Female Reader.

Type: Headcanon collection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Attention

Overhaul has his very own definition of affection when it comes to romantic relationships. One type of attention you very rarely get from him is a physical display of attention while in public, or more generally speaking when you two are not alone, meaning even one single person present with the both of you will be enough to restrain him from touching you. He's not - and has never been - a social man, and especially doesn't like to show his emotions to others, so even if accompanied by you, he doesn't budge and remains emotionally cold. However, when it comes to private moments, you are always assured to receive physical attention from him. It's never intense, but loving enough to melt your heart anyway. A caress on your cheek, a kiss left on your neck, a hand sliding over your thighs... All these are marks of affection he enjoys giving you when you two are alone. Most of the time, they happen in silence. He loves you through gentle gestures without a word, thinking his acts speak louder than anything he could say to you. And you're fine with it. You often find yourself craving these private moments together, since they usually don't happen until the end of the day or when he's not too busy, which doesn't happen often. Aside from the intimate physical gestures he gives you, he also shows you his love through verbal affection. His tone softens when he speaks to you, and he's developed a habit of complimenting you without filtering himself in the slightest. An example is when he walks up to you to tell you in the most spontaneous of ways how gorgeous he finds you today, leaving you a blushing mess, muttering a shy 'thank you'. These compliments always catch you by surprise, and always leave you wanting for more. Of course, with each compliment he gives you, you end up repaying the favor, complimenting him daily as well, but you always feel like they don't affect him as much as his affect you. But that's only because he doesn't show it.

Control

Overhaul was born to become a leader, and his Boss had always shaped him to turn out that way. He's at the head of the Shie Hassaikai clan, with dozens of men under his supervision, following his orders without double-thinking or ever questioning the choices he makes. It is clear that he embodies the image of a man in control, dictating everyone he considers to be below him. And he is no different outside of work, when it comes to his relationship with you. You two are a couple, you form a pair, who respects each other, but there is no denial that he is the one in control of your couple. It's not so much a matter of respect or trust, but rather the fact that he's always been used to being the one in control of his life, and just because he's dating you doesn't mean this will change. If anything, it makes him want to control his life and yours even more. He not only likes to be the master of his own sea, but also feels the need to protect you and shield you from certain outside things. It's nothing too restrictive or strict, but it still matters to him to trace at least a certain amount of boundaries. On top of his natural authority, you have noticed that as your relationship has grown since when you started dating him, he tends to sometimes be quite possessive of you now, since he never stops feeling more and more attached to you as time passes. He doesn't want to cage you up, but his desire to keep you safe and for himself leads him to tutor you often. Lastly, although it may not show often, he gets jealous easily regarding the things he loves, and you're no exception. Not wanting to show you that side of him is one of the reasons why he controls some of your movements.

Doubts

Undoubtedly, your relationship with Overhaul leads your mental health to somewhat deteriorate. Yes, you love him, but it doesn't stop you from suffering from breakdowns sometimes, wondering how you came to be so attached to him, and asking yourself endlessly if you made the right choice to follow him down his path. You look back on your couple and come to doubt some of your choices. You do your best not to have breakdowns in front of him, but know he's bound to occasionally walk in on you having one. The first time he surprised you in the middle of a breakdown, he asked you what was wrong, visibly worried. And when you gathered the courage to tell him what was troubling you, his expression changed. He told you he understood your feelings but added he couldn't empathize with them, since he's never truly had that conflict. Having lived in the Shie Hassaikai clan since his earliest years, he's never had another choice but to live like a Yakuza. Unlike you, who didn't grow up a villain. Despite your different backgrounds, he still validates you and accepts you in his life, and you're grateful for that. But, although he tells you he wants you to open up to him regarding your doubts, you can never bring yourself to do so.

Equality

He may be a Yakuza, and one hell of a bad man criminally-wise, but Overhaul still has principles. And one of them is that he respects women. Unlike what some people might think, he's not the type to disrespect you, his female partner, simply because you're a woman. He believes in full gender equality, whether it is in private or business matters. In fact, for Overhaul, what determines someone and the level of worth they hold as an individual is not the controversial features people usually bicker about (such as gender, skin color, or age), but their place in society and what they can do to change the latter for the better.

Fear

You love Overhaul, you've found this out for yourself throughout your relationship with him, with your feelings for him having only gotten stronger since you've started dating. You love him for all his flaws, all his qualities, his personality, everything that makes him, him. And yet, despite all the time you've spent with him, the one thing you're still not used to is how intimidating he comes off as. You've always felt a certain aura emanating from him, like a strong force, instinctively commanding respect upon anyone who comes across him. And this feeling is even stronger when you two are alone. Whether he does it unconsciously or not, his words often weigh a certain pressure, especially when addressed to you. Sometimes, you can't help but even feel scared of certain things he says or does. You're not blind to the things he does at "work", you know his motives and how he controls his minions. You've even once witnessed for yourself how he got rid of one of his men by killing him using his Quirk, making him explode, repainting the walls red. You quickly realized you weren't supposed to see that. You had walked in on the scene, and by the time he had noticed you were there, it was too late. He seemed panicked, his eyes wide open, keeping his distance from you. He quickly cleaned himself before approaching you, asking you if you were okay as he saw you were visibly shaken up. You knew deep down he was regretting his action, because now he was afraid you'd be too scared to be with him. After all, he's a murderer, and isn't afraid to be one to achieve anything he's aiming for. You know that. But you sucked it all in, told him you were fine, and neither of you talked of it again. Since then, he's made extra sure that an accident of the like never happens again, starting by making it clear to you that he loves you too much to ever hurt you in such a way.

Germaphobia

Habits: Overhaul is a germaphobe, everyone knows this, and you especially over all others. He doesn't consider himself a cleaning freak, and actually corrects people who call him that way. Yes, he wants things around him to be clean, to make sure he doesn't come in contact with anything that could affect his system, but that doesn't make him the type to sweep his home every day. He doesn't mind when things are slightly messy and tolerates a little dust, as long as it doesn't accumulate. His main issue with germs is when they come in direct contact with him, thus leading him to wear a mask and gloves constantly. Before he met you and started living with you, he washed his hands every hour, and never took his mask off around others, no matter the context. But over time, through conversation and guiding, you managed, not without difficulty, to progressively take his habits down one level. At first, it was hard for him, since it meant changing life-long habits, but with your help, he now washes his hands at acceptable amounts, and under certain circumstances even accepts to take off his mask in public.

Touch: Because of his germaphobia, it can sometimes get quite hard for you to live with Overhaul, but not for the reasons people might think. He can be strict when it comes to physical touch between the two of you, simply because he fears catching an infection or something of the like. In order to prevent that from happening, he asks you to always wash your hands properly before touching him, and the same goes for your mouth if you wish to kiss him. This can sometimes feel heavy on you, especially if you're a touchy-feely person who needs physical touch. But you can't blame him for it, that's the way he is. Besides, you know well that since you started dating him, his germaphobia went up a notch, because he now fears for the both of you. As much as he wants to keep germs away from himself, he also has someone else to protect from them.

Kitchen authority

Another result of Overhaul's germaphobia is his desire to always be the one to cook. It has nothing to do with trust, or doubting your abilities in the kitchen, but he prefers to be the one to cook. Although it may not show, he's a very skilled cook, due to many years of making his own food in the past. He makes excellent dishes for the both of you, with care and attention, and you make sure to thank him each time for it. Your culinary compliments may seem like they don't affect him, as they don't trigger many reactions in him, but deep down he feels the pride to know he made you happy with one of his dishes. If you ever come to implore him to let you cook for him for a change, it's likely he'll end up accepting, but rest assured he'll be monitoring you the whole way through and watching your every move to make sure you do everything perfectly.

Masks

Overhaul has developed a habit of wearing different masks according to what he's doing, such as his crow mask, which he wears for work, and his set of plain black masks, which he wears when he goes out on more casual occasions. One moment you still have engraved into your memory is the day he had awkwardly confessed to you he didn't know which mask to wear when he was alone with you. It had made you laugh, which further annoyed him, but you quickly reassured him that it didn't matter much to you. You told him that it was up to him, and after that day, he decided he would wear his plain masks around you, thinking it was admittedly more comfortable. Eventually, after dating you for long enough, he took a huge step forward and decided he would not wear a mask at all when he would be alone with you, which had earned him praises and congratulations from your part. In the earlier stages of your relationship, you had also tried taking a step in his direction by gifting him masks as a way to show him your support and that you accept him for his germaphobia, but he had to turn down your offer by telling you he preferred to buy his masks himself, to make sure of their composition. However, he had still thanked you for your original idea, and despite never having told you, he still feels grateful for it.

"Overhaul"

Overhaul has made it clear to everyone that he has long buried the name "Chisaki", and you are no exception. At the beginning of your relationship, he had told you not to use it when addressing him, and you didn't see any reason to oppose it. However, you can get tired of calling him "Overhaul", especially in private settings, so you sometimes allow yourself to call him "Over" in order to preserve the aspect of nicknames, which you find important in a relationship, or whenever you want to show him a softer side of yourself. At one point, you had talked it over with each other, and he had told you you could call him "Kai" if you really wanted to. But you keep that for only the most intimate of moments...

Pet names

Overhaul isn't necessarily attached to the notion of pet names within a couple, and is mostly content enough with calling you by your name. However, as your relationship progresses through time, a time eventually came when he asked you if you wanted to be called by certain nicknames, since he started feeling more comfortable around you. He made it clear that if you did want to be nicknamed, you would be the one to choose them. He wanted to make sure he would call you by names that would please you and make you feel loved. You told him he was free to choose for you, but he insisted it was up to you. You ended up telling him what your favored pet names were and he's never forgotten them since. Although he mainly sticks to your name, he calls you by those pet names every now and then, keeping them for when he's feeling personal or domestic around you.

Quirks

You know well that Quirks are a touchy subject to talk about with Overhaul, hence why you rarely do so. But, one thing you just couldn't avoid revealing and inevitably had to bring up with him when you two first met was your nature, whether you had a Quirk or not. In the case where you were born Quirkless, the first time you had told him about it had seemed to have somewhat appeased him. It was only some time later, after learning what his "job" is and what his ideals are that you understood why he was content with you being deprived of powers. Although it had sounded weird to you at first when he had told you he was glad you had no Quirk, you came to understand that he feels this way because he sees you as pure and "clean" for it. To him, it means you represent even more than ever someone that he needs to protect. In the case where you were born with a Quirk, you couldn't help but feel fear the first time he confronted you about it. You knew about his morals and dreaded he would reject you for having powers, finding you gross and unworthy of his love. But, to your surprise, he told you he didn't mind it that much, and accepted you for who you are nonetheless. Ever since you've been together, you've brought it up with him only once, and he made it clear he accepts your Quirk because he knows you're not using it to play hero. Getting with him in the first place meant following him on his trails and more or less agreeing with his ideas, and that's enough of a reason for him to accept you by his side. Besides, all ideals aside, you know he loves you enough to not let his morals dictate his feelings towards you, and that he loves you no matter what your powers are, or even if you've got none.

Sex

It had taken you by surprise when Overhaul had told you that if you wished to have sex with him, you had to be the one to ask him for it. He explained to you that he didn't see it as a priority in your couple, and that he preferred dedicating his time to other ways of loving you, and it'd lead him to never ask you for some time under the sheets. And indeed, he never has. Ever since you've been together, you've been the one making advances each time. But that doesn't mean he turns them down, or that he doesn't appreciate sex. He actually quite enjoys it, firstly because he knows it pleases you, but also because it allows him to spend quality time with you. His sex manners are of the most common type, consisting in the most basic of positions, and rarely including kinks. But rarely doesn't mean 'never'. Sometimes, he admits it, he uses the opportunity of having sex with you to finally externalize certain emotions he's bottled up and lash out at your body. During those kinds of nights, he's even more passionate, and rougher too. He holds you tighter, pressing his entire body against yours, and even drops sensual whispers into your ears. Even when giving you this kind of sex, he's still loving towards you, asking you every now and then if you're hurting anywhere or if he's being too rough. Deep down, you fight the desire to ask him to be even rougher, wondering what it would be like if he truly gave it his all. It's evidence for him to always wear a condom when having sex with you, since he hates the thought of you filled with "filthy fluids". But that doesn't stop the quality of his sex from being extremely good, saddening you when it comes to an end, making you wish for more. But you know what comes afterward is just as good. After you're both done, he takes you to the bathroom, and steps into the shower with you, to cleanse both your bodies and minds. Under the pouring hot water, he continues to caress you and whisper to your ears how much he loves you.

Work

You'd say there's nothing in this world Overhaul is more dedicated to than his work. But, ever since you got with him, he is just as passionate about your couple as he is about his work. It's safe to say these are the only two things in his life he views as important and worth his time. Devoting himself to both his work and your relationship, he made it clear from day one that he would love for you to work alongside him. You knew right from the start what his "job" consisted of, and you had chosen to accept it nonetheless. You were somewhat expecting him to impose on you the role of the "Boss' wife", forcing you to work with him, and that was a harder thing for you to process. But, in reality, he had asked you at the beginning of your relationship if you wished to work for his clan, accompanying him in his daily activities, or if you rather wanted to stay out of it, leading your own working life by yourself. You had been very grateful to see him considerate enough to leave you the choice, and still are to this day. The thought of working by his side had intrigued you, leaving your imagination picture how you'd be walking next to him throughout the halls of the clan's headquarters, a newfound feeling of empowerment emanating from you. But on the other hand, choosing a job in something unrelated to the clan seemed the most suitable option, since it would not only give you alone-time outside of home, but would also keep you clean from any of Overhaul's activities, therefore helping keep up appearances. Whether you've decided to work alongside him as the co-Boss of the clan, or work on your own, he loves you just as much, and respects whichever choice you made that day.

Yakuza principles

Overhaul has always perceived himself as a true Yakuza ever since he first joined the Shie Hassaikai, and has always given importance to making a distinction between Yakuza and villains. The main noticeable difference between the two is the code of honor that Yakuza clans impose upon themselves, to make order and organization rule within the group. And Overhaul's clan is obviously no exception. For a man such as him, who wishes to always have everything under control, it's essential he has all his men agree to a specific set of principles and rules. However, something you hadn't expected when you started dating him was to also be imposed these rules. He had told you explicitly that whether you desired to join him in his work or not, you'd still have to obey the rules of his clan. This meant not telling any exterior party about the clan's activity, whereabouts, and identities, in order to protect both the members and you. You had decided to comply with this rule, among the others he had presented to you. But, aside from the initial surprise it had created in you, it has never had any actual impact on your relationship. You go by his rules, in and outside of work, and it satisfies the both of you. After all, you know well he trusts you, otherwise, he would have never started dating you in the first place, and that always makes you happy to think about.

Zealousness

In your eyes, Overhaul is the perfect illustration of a zealous man. He always comes off to you an enthusiastic and passionate regarding the things he does and the things he cares about. It begins with his work, which he puts above all else, and considers to be of the utmost importance. He's got plans, which count trying to make the Yakuza stronger and making his ideal a reality, and he'd do anything to achieve these goals. But his commitment doesn't stop at his work. He's also extremely devoted when it comes to his personal life, especially with you in it. He wholly dedicates his time to you when you two are alone, showing you how important your couple is to him. He tries his best to make it work and doesn't hesitate to go to extreme lengths sometimes, just to make sure you're happy with him and that you won't find anything to reproach him for. It took you some time to notice the true reason behind his actions, and when you understood why he was so committed to you, it surprised you. You hadn't expected him to be the type of man to have these types of doubts, but it also did make you understand how much he loves you. You remind him daily that he doesn't need to do such things for you to believe in his love, but you know deep down that he'll never change, and will always keep on reinforcing the foundations of your couple.

[world0fmadness]

TAKE MY HEART

pelle “ dead ” ohlin x pregnant! reader

♡ general headcanons for pelle with a pregnant partner!

୨୧ some more domestic fluffy fluff for my favourite man <3

♡ related hc available here, here and here | view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: death stranding by chvrches - end of small sanctuary by akira yamaoka

♡ pelle would be an absolute pro at handling your morning sickness!

୨୧ vomit doesn’t bother him in the slightest, not the smell nor the sound of your retching, he’ll awkwardly stand behind you in the small bathroom as you get it all up, bending his lanky frame slightly to pull your hair back and pat your back

♡ he really tries his best to comfort you :(

“ are you okay? is… is that it? no more vomit? okay… come on… ” ( he might not be the absolute best at verbal comfort but the feeling of his hand stroking your hair away from your face as you brush your teeth is comforting enough )

୨୧ he’ll always make you some hot drink ( but not coffee ) to help you feel better after some morning sickness

♡ he’d probably be secretly brainstorming name ideas all the time, scribbling them down on a ripped piece of paper whenever he thinks of a name he thinks you’ll particularly like or he thinks is unique

୨୧ i feel like pelle would find the kicking really interesting and is always so curious about it

♡ whenever the baby kicks, he just goes dead silent and stares at the bump with a curios look in his eyes

୨୧ he’d definitely ask a lot of questions about how it feels… like, what the kicking feels like inside of you and how the baby feels inside of you… he’s just curious and has no filter

“ …does it hurt? what does it feel like inside? sorry… ” ( he isn’t really sorry for asking so many questions, he’s a curious guy, but he’ll say sorry just in case you feel awkward which you never really do )

♡ pelle is the absolute best guy to be with when you have trouble getting to sleep at night because of the baby!

୨୧ he has no problem sitting awake with you and quietly talking to you as you cuddle into his arm whilst he lays flat on his back staring up at the ceiling of the room

♡ he’ll usually just mumble about really random things, thoughts he had pent up through the day

୨୧ things like how he’s wondering about how the baby will look, he hopes they’ll look more like you, how he’s just a little ( a lot ) scared to be bringing a child into his care, he thinks you’ll be great though

“ think you’ll be a good mother, really good… not sure about me though… ‘m not good with stuff… ” ( you’re the only person he’s ever opened his heart to, he just doesn’t know if he’ll be able to open his heart to another person as he did you! he’s the most nervous he’s ever been, please just tell him he’ll be good )

♡ to be honest, his quiet voice mumbling to you would probably help you get to sleep and as soon as he hears your breathing even out, he’ll nuzzle his head into your hair and plant a small kiss on your head before whispering a nearly silent “ i love you ”

୨୧ when you’re at doctors appointments with him, wether it be for ultrasounds or just average checkups, he’s super quiet

♡ he won’t say a word, only nodding or shaking his head and keeping his slightly shaky hand in yours the whole time, his bony fingers tightening around yours

୨୧ whenever he sees his baby on the grainy, black and white screen, he just gets lost in the image and zones out as he stares at it, the voices of you and the doctor becoming white noise to him as he looks ahead at his baby

♡ he’ll only snap out of this when it’s time to leave or you nudge him, he’d definitely shyly ask the doctor for a couple copies of the ultrasound to take home all the time!

୨୧ he’d probably draw the ultrasound a lot, studying it for hours as he copies the image down in his sketchbook

“ drew her ultrasound… you can see her little hands and feet now… look, this one is the very first one ” ( he really likes showing you his sketches of her ultrasounds, not for fishing compliments or anything but just because it’s your baby though he will blush a little if you compliment the sketches )

♡ when you’re in a not so great mood due to your hormones, pelle is very cautious around you and doesn’t talk much at all, he’ll just let you do your thing and try his absolute best to not do anything that might irritate you

୨୧ pelle would probably think the stretch marks appearing on your stomach are so pretty :(

♡ he wouldn’t be crazy vocal about it but whenever you’re sleeping against him with his arm around you, his fingers will trace the marks on your growing bump just as he does your other scars and marks! he thinks they’re beautiful in their own way, marks of strength more than anything else and he hates when he sees you being insecure about them

୨୧ when you’re too sick or tired to go shopping and none of your friends are available to do it for you, pelle will go for you, even if he really does not like shopping at all

♡ almost every time when shopping for you, he’ll find himself just standing idly in the baby supply isle, even when that’s not what you sent him shopping for! he just gets lost in looking at the little shoes, cute tiny blankets and other accessories

୨୧ he’ll stand in the isle completely lost in thought and daydreams for at least five minutes, people passing by him and looking at him strangely

♡ he’ll usually come home with at least one thing from the isle, something he picked up with haste and quickly dropped into the basket as if holding it for longer than a second would burn him! he won’t tell you he got it, he’ll simply let you find it in the shopping bag and if you ask about it, he’ll give a short and quiet response

“ just thought they might like it… ” ( just because they might like it… he was spoiling her before she was even born )

୨୧ pelle does kind of a similar thing in the nursery when that’s all prepared!

♡ you’ll wake up in the middle of the night due to not feeling his presence beside you and get up, walking around the hallways trying to find him before you find him in the nursery, bathed in the moonlight that shines through the window and standing still, running a hand across the crib with one hand whilst the other is up to his mouth as he bites his nails

୨୧ he’s just realising that soon, there will be a baby made from both you and him in the crib, a baby he’ll love… just go up and hug him from behind, it’ll be one of the few times you make him jump from your surprise presence before he comes back to bed with you, mumbling an apology for waking you up

♡ speaking of the nursery, he would paint some stuff in there! obviously not insanely creepy things but usually forest animals and trees, fairytale type things with the twist from his signature style! he painted a doe on the wall above the crib, as if it was a guardian angel for the baby and it ended up matching the baby really well as she had the biggest blue doe eyes

୨୧ please do not show this many any of your weird food cravings…

♡ he would be the type of guy to actually vomit at the sight of some of the stuff you’ve concocted, possibly even at just the smell of it!

୨୧ so you’ll need to give him a heads up when you’re going to make something weird you crave, just so that he can stay far away from the kitchen or even go for a walk in the woods

♡ yeah, so much other nasty stuff doesn’t bother him at all but weird food combinations? keep that stuff out of his sight, please…

[littlehypnone]

Fic request!! Reminder that you don't have to respond if this is triggering!! But phantom accidentally tripping over little dew drop and falling over, dew doesn't fall down but he gets scared when phantom starts crying

I made phantom trip over dew's tail and they don't fall fully on the ground but onto the couch and swiss' arms so it wouldn't be... "drastic" hahahah I hope its okay and that you like it!

755 words, tiny dew, little phantom (they/them as usual when small), phantom trips over dew's tail, no one gets hurt just a bit sad and scared, everything ends well with giggles, cg rain, cg swiss, mentioned cg aether

Dewdrop has been dropped all day now. It didn’t begin well, but after some time with Aether and then Rain he was happy. Currently, he was playing with Phantom, being watched over by Rain from the couch.

Phantom and Dewdrop were in a little pit of blankets and pillows on the floor, various toys thrown all around. At the moment Dewdrop seemed to be taking a break from playing, chewing on the tail of his axolotl plushie as he stared at Phantom, who was busy smacking two toys together. They were fighting.

Rain kept a close eye on Dewdrop when he stopped engaging, looking for any signs of the fear or anxiety coming back to the small ghoul. There was none, thankfully.

Everyone was calm and content. It was quiet for the next fifteen minutes or so, apart from the noises of Dewdrop gnawing and Phantom smacking their toys together, and sometimes making special sound effects, too. At some point the three of them heard footsteps from the corridor and soon enough Swiss walked in.

“Hi, Swiss,” Rain greeted him.

“Hello, Raincloud.” He plopped down next to him onto the couch and kissed his cheek. “Hello to you, too, two little gremlins.”

“Swissy! We nod g’emlins!” Phantom protested, even though they were giggling, happy to see the multi ghoul. Swiss always bragged he was Phantom’s favorite (and he probably was).

“Hmmm… I’m not so sure about that,” the multi ghoul took on a dramatic expression, as if he was lost deep in thought. Rain rolled his eyes next to him. “You know… gremlins don’t cuddle. I guess you gotta come over here and prove you’re not one by giving me a hug.”

Phantom giggled again and jumped up, careful to not step on any toys or Dewdrop. Unfortunately, they didn’t predict the fire ghoul’s tail twitching just when they were stepping over it and Phantom ended up tripping on it and falling face first into the couch. 

Swiss caught them, thankfully, but the quintessence ghoul already had tears in their eyes—mostly feeling bad for potentially hurting his little friend, but also out of shame. Rain dropped to his knees next to Dewdrop, all but waiting for his breakdown, but nothing was happening yet.

“‘m s– sorry, D– Dewy,” Phantom cried, hiding in Swiss’ neck. The loud sobs were what finally got to Dewdrop. He looked over at his friend with scrunched up eyebrows and Rain saw tears welling up in his eyes in real time. He pulled the tiny ghoul into his lap and held him tightly, knowing any words or shushing him wouldn’t do any good.

“Hey, bug, it’s okay, Dew is alright,” the multi ghoul assured them, getting a nod in confirmation from Rain. “Isn’t he Rain?”

“Yeah, baby bat, he’s okay. He just got sad because you got sad,” Rain told them. Both he and Swiss knew Dewdrop got a bit scared, rather than sad. Not for himself, but for his friend—he couldn’t filter his love for his packmates when little as he tended to do when he’s big—but Phantom didn’t need to know that when they were small, too, it’d possibly make their little breakdown bigger.

Phantom pulled away from Swiss’ neck and looked down at where Dewdrop was cradled in Rain’s arms. There were a few tears trolling down his cheeks and his eyes were wide, but he wasn’t sobbing or shaking. 

“D– Dewy, are you o– ogay?” the quintessence ghoul asked, but didn’t expect a verbal response. Dewdrop wiggled his arms out from between him and Rain, and made grabby hands in Phantom’s direction.

“Go, buggy,” Swiss encouraged them, ruffling their hair. Phantom extracted themself from the multi ghoul’s arms and got down onto their knees on the floor. They carefully crawled over to Dewdrop and Rain and sat down in Dewdrop’s arm reach.

“‘m sorry,” they apologized again, but the other was having none of it. He blew a raspberry, and extended an arm to—very clumsily and not really successfully—wipe some of the tears off Phantom’s cheek with his pointer finger. Both of their eyes and cheeks were still wet but they both erupted into giggles, quickly forgetting about their sadness as Dew took on poking Phantom’s flushed cheeks for fun.

Rain and Swiss both sighed with relief, glad the situation didn’t escalate into big panic on either of the little ghoul’s side. Soon enough Dewdrop and Phantom got back to their playing and Rain returned to the couch to cuddle up to Swiss and continue watching the little ghouls.

[redfurrycat]

🤠💔💞🐓Getting Back Together (Part Two) Fic Recs🐓💞💔🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: 2manyf4nd0ms, Achillesfilms, All_InProcess, Alltherecklesshours, Bitter_Rabbit, Boobooblue, Booklover03, Charlie_mou, Contech00, Dalearden, Daringdrinkerofdreams, Davidbyrne, DraconisWing24441, Earthangel_44, Elwenyere, Greatea, HalbarryTrashcan, Highsmith, Hngstercity, Hushywushy, Indybob, JoAnna, Kateofspades, Kiddi, Mackwinnon, Marchrain, Nickies_Nonsense, Nocturnelight, Notchka88, Ok_thanks, PerpetualDusk, ReiverReturns, Sceld, Sky_of_starflowers, Spiritsontheroof, Theinsouciantknitter, Trinipedia, VarjoRuusu, Writteninwaves.

> Getting Back Together (Part One)

it's a bitter taste, it's a warning sign by writteninwaves {M}

I get so tired I can't sleep A thousand footstеps follow me Do you believе things that you can't see? Is this feeling real or just a dream? Billy Avalone and Jake Seresin are ... something. Bradley Bradshaw is an idiot in love. It hurts a lot before it gets better.

five long years (afraid of all my fears) by boobooblue {G}

It's the smile Jake directs at him when they're face to face after Bradley lands that seals the deal. Because that is not Hangman; it's Jake. His Jake smiling at him, his Jake that saved his and Mav's life. His Jake that Bradley should have never let go.

5 Times Bradley Calls Jake Sweetheart + 1 Time Jake Returns the Endearment by dalearden {M}

But there’s one thing above all Jake has really latched onto, that makes him literally swoon inside in such a way that he momentarily becomes a stranger to himself. It’s just a word and would mean nothing coming from anyone else but there’s something about the way Bradley says it, how it makes Jake feel to hear it coming from the older pilot. It makes Jake wish he could show his feelings so easily in return, makes him hate himself a little bit that he can’t.

(sometimes I feel) like a monkey pilot by charlie_mou {_}

Mav’s both eyebrows twitched. “That does sound like it’s going to be a problem.” “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, making himself look straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. “He’s a shithead in the same way you are.” “Bradley,” Mav said, and he was using that tone, the one that made Bradley feel like he was fifteen again. “What? It’s true. He has the same lack of brain-to-mouth filter, doesn’t know when to quit, I can go on if you want,” he said, but Mav didn’t take the bait. They marched down the tarmac, getting closer and closer to the others’ hearing range, and Mav was still staring at him, expecting an explanation. He sighed. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” “Your—” Mav exclaimed, falling a step behind Bradley, before catching up, striding inches away from Bradley’s side. “From before?” "Yep." “Why didn’t you say anything?” God, why was this tarmac so long? “As much as I’d prefer to avoid him, orders are orders, Mav.” Or, it's time for the special detachment and Bradley's decisions from five years ago are finally catching up with him.

I Lost You Once, But I'll Love You More Than That by PerpetualDusk {E}

As hard as he would love to forget about the time where Bradley, Javy, Natasha, and him, had all went to the same Naval academy- Bradley being two years older than them, but managing to stick to Jake's side, and make time for their friend group-, and had become familiar with one another, than their time at Top Gun shouldn't have been anything short of a friendly reunion. Except, it wasn't. Not in Jake and Bradley's case, for the most part. For them, it was a back-and-forth game of pushing each other's buttons, in which, most cases, Jake would be the first one to comment something that would rile Bradley and get him to fight back, to continue and escalate their verbal war where both of them were too stubborn to back down or admit they were both wrong. That was their thing, however. It was always about pushing the other's buttons- albeit light bantering when they dated-, and that worked for them. The bickering and the arguments happened occasionally, but they never got bad to the point where they plunged a knife deep into the other's gut and twisted it slowly, killing them from the inside. Perhaps, what worked for them was just bound to explode in their faces- and it did, which is why they are the way they are.

Don't let the light go out by JoAnna {M}

Jake doesn’t remember the route to the elevators or even what the rest of the ICU floor looked like, his only focus was to get to Bradley. They found room 309 at the end of the hallway. Jake paused before stepping into the room. He knew that when he stepped through the door his life would be divided into another epoch. Another before and another after and he’s so scared of what the after could be if it doesn’t include Bradley.

Homesick by theinsouciantknitter {T}

Bradley's been homesick for as long as he can remember.

Hangman Origin by Bitter_Rabbit {E}

When they first meet, they aren’t Rooster and Hangman. Not yet. They are just Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin. ----- Strangers to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, because we all know they had history!

Old Habits by Sceld {T}

Jake shuts his eyes and wonders if Bradley knows he’s still here. Wonders if he’s lying awake and wishing with every fibre of his being that he was with Jake. Jake’s hand runs over the worn down fabric of the couch cushion directly in front of his face, letting himself believe for only a second that if he was face to face with Bradley right now he’d have the courage to stroke his cheek and slide into Bradley's embrace rather than making do with his own attempt at it. He'd finally find the words to say what his mind has been screaming for months every time he catches sight of the other. But maybe that’s just Jake. or; Jake has a system that steers him clear of rekindling old romances. It fails.

I’d come back if you'd just call by spiritsontheroof {T}

Jake never thinks about Bradley as the one that got away. That implies that something happened, something beyond control and beyond reason and beyond their best efforts, and it just didn’t work out. But Bradley left. So he didn’t get away. He pulled Jake’s heart out of his chest and crushed it on the tarmac after their TOPGUN graduation, and drove away like Jake wasn’t in the rearview. That’s all they had. Eight weeks, something like ten years ago, that was it. And they spent more of it bickering than they did doing anything else, besides finding secluded corners and supply closets that locked to steal ten minutes alone in. They fought and argued and competed, and spent every moment they could together in-between. Eight weeks. It took less than half of that for Jake to be more than half in love.

Icy Heart (Warm Me Up) by VarjoRuusu {M}

They booked this vacation almost a year ago, and Bradley will be damned if he misses it, but when he pulls up to the remote cabin high in the Sierra's...Jake is there. Eight months after they break up, Bradley and Jake both go to the cabin they booked together, not expecting that the other will turn up. Cue fighting, blizzards, talking, making up, near hypothermia, sharing a bed, make up sex, cute fluffy nonsense, and getting back together.

hold the line (love isn't always on time) by davidbyrne {E}

“So I guess we have to stick together, then,” Bradley says after a beat. Jake raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t respond. It doesn’t matter; Bradley knows it’s a request to elaborate. “At all these events,” he clarifies. “It gets old being the only single person. It would be nice to have someone to turn to when they make everyone pair up.” Or jake and bradley are the last single people in their friend group, and neither of them ever plan to settle down. it makes sense to stick together, right?

cowboy like me by Daringdrinkerofdreams {G}

The first time someone just assumes Jake is an all-American farm boy he is too baffled to correct them. Navy people are gossips, it turns out and before Jake knows it, it’s what everyone thinks. People view him differently, his supervisors think “Cowboy” before they think “loose cannon”, so he runs with it. The only person who knows the truth is Javy, who would never rat him out.

First Love/Late Spring by HalbarryTrashcan {E}

These memories are the scenes replaying in Bradley’s mind over and over again as his plane plummets towards the earth. He always thought when he died he would be thinking about his dad or his mom - hell, given his weird and fucked-up situation with Maverick even that could have been an option. This was the last thing he expected.

hold me through the shakes by spiritsontheroof {_}

Bradley spills hot coffee on his hand three days into their post-mission leave. It’s not until he can’t get the bandage over the blister that he realizes his hands are shaking.

I Am Yours by Booklover03 {_}

Being an Omega with a mating bite and a half-finished mating bond without his Alpha in sight is hard. Hiding the fact that he’s a mated Omega is even harder. What happens when years later he meets his Alpha again? Especially when the other man doesn’t seem to acknowledge the bite mark he left on the Omega years prior.

all our yesterdays by Notchka88 {E}

Everything that happens on the carrier is clockwork; there’s no variation that Jake has noticed in anyone’s behavior or actions unless he initiates something. The changes he effects are inconsequential and the end result is always the same: Bradley dies. And dies. And dies. (Jake gets another chance at the mission, and then another, and another. At a certain point they stop feeling like chances and more like foregone conclusions.)

if it's right, you know by spiritsontheroof {G}

Bradley never saw himself as the kind of guy who settles down. Not because he never wanted to, but in his line of work, it’s hard to get serious with someone he barely sees or find anyone who appreciates his love of flying and doesn’t see it as a liability. Standing at the bar in the Hard Deck two days after the mission, he meets Elizabeth. OR the speak now fic that nobody asked for

spreadin' out his wings tonight by dalearden {M}

He needs this now, because not even an hour ago he nearly lost it forever. Thought it was lost forever anyway, because it’s been years and somewhere along the way love turned to hate and after everything, after nearly dying, Rooster realizes how much that had devastated him all along.

will the teasing of the fire be followed by the thud? by davidbyrne {T}

“Then why do you have to act like such an asshole?” There’s an edge of desperation in Bradley’s voice. Like he’s trying as hard as he can to understand. “Because…you always are first,” Jake offers, shrugging. It’s the truth, as lame as it may be. “I think I have the right to be a dick to the person who broke my heart,” is Bradley’s abrupt response. 

If you find yourself thinkin' About that boy from East Texas by Kiddi {M}

“Funnily enough,” he decided to say, hoping he was reading the situation correctly, “this isn't the first sunrise we’ve had, is it?” Jake chuckled softly and made a small noise, “no it is not,” he agreed, “just as pretty though,” “No matter where I go,” he retraced old conversations, “the sunrise always feels like back home.” They settled in comfortable silence for a bit before Jake spoke, “it's been a while since we’ve seen each other,” he said, looking down at the sand, “Spain was it?” he looked over at Rooster, “the last time I saw you?” A little bit of shame and guilt rose in his chest, neither of them kept in touch after Spain but Rooster always felt like it was his fault, “yea, it was,” he nodded, “you haven't changed a bit though, still as annoying as ever,” he laughed, and so did Jake, “but you’re still one hell of a pilot,” Or Bradley and Jake haven't seen each other since running away from their feelings and now they have to realize that they never really went away in the first place

Speak Now by mackwinnon {E}

“Jake,” Bradley whispered his name but remained where he was, not reaching for the other man again. “Just tell me this. Do you love him?” Jake forced himself to nod. “Say it.” But he’d never loved anyone like he’d loved Bradley. “Bradley…” “Baby,” Bradley breathed, finally taking a step towards Jake, noting that Jake didn’t take a step back. “He might have more money than God, might take you anywhere you wanna go and buy you anything you wanna have, but he will never love you as much as I do.” Or: Jake's getting married. But it's not to Bradley.

We Were Something, Don't You Think So? by indybob {T}

Jake has too much to drink, leaving Bradley to take care of him and take him home. When Jake confesses that he still has feelings for Bradley, they’re left with no choice but to talk things over the next morning. Or: Jake gets drunk at the Hard Deck, Bradley rescues him from a creepy guy, Jake confesses he misses Bradley, and they work things out.

Maybe This Time Is Forever by theinsouciantknitter {E}

Jake hasn’t slept in days. Three days, to be exact. Everytime he closes his eyes he sees an outdated F-14 going down in flames into the ocean.

Heaven in Your Eyes by achillesfilms {M}

Maverick had been hit. Then, it was Bradley. “Dagger 2 hit. I repeat, Dagger 2 has been hit.” Maverick makes it back to the hanger without Rooster, and everyone thinks he is dead.

When We Collide (We Come Together) by ReiverReturns {E}

A one-two punch out, thick black smoke belching in ropes from the hills and scrub. He was sure, so sure that was it. So he left the base, aimless with momentum and frenetic without cause. Seeing Hangman is the only time Rooster’s felt like stopping.

I Love You More than Tongue Can Tell by Contech00 {T}

The Valentine's Day after the mission doesn't go to plan for Jake which sends him spiraling back to the old flame that used to exist between him and Bradley.

dust in the ground by kateofspades {_}

The only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave.

or: jake lost a wso

When the Time Comes by elwenyere {T}

Bradley remembers it the way his fingers remember a chord: by ear, like he’s an echo of someone else’s sound. ----- Or, 5 times someone held Bradley + 1 time he held someone else

lovers like to burn by nocturnelight {M}

Jake’s problem, though, is that he’s never really known what was good for him. Never had much of a self preservation instinct. And if the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results, then Jake might be the maddest man on earth when it comes to Bradley Bradshaw.

An Unexpected Visitor by DraconisWing24441 {T}

It's been a year since the mission, a year since Bradley and Jake have seen each other and decided to start over, but as friends. But when Jake decides to show up at Bradley's house one night, old feelings are rekindled and starting over, together, suddenly seems a hell of a lot more possible than before. ***** Unlocking the door, Bradley yanked it open with the full intention of ripping into the person pounding on his door for no good reason only to freeze as the open door revealed a soaking wet Hangman on his front stoop.  Frozen in shock – he hadn’t seen Hangman since the mission ended – Bradley found himself just staring at him as he tried to process the presence of the blonde aviator in front of him. Bradley asked, “Hangman?  Wh–what are you doing here?  And why are you soaking wet?”

This is me trying by Earthangel_44 {E}

Bradley tries to make things right before it’s too late.

One and Only by hngstercity {E}

“C’mon, Bradley.” Oh, now he’s using his real name? Fuck him. “You haven’t had anyone after him.” “I did. You know I did, Maverick. You’re the nosiest Alpha I know, and I know you know any time I’ve slept with someone. You can’t keep your fucking nose out of my business.” And he means it literally, because anytime Bradley had someone over, the next day Pete would always inflate his nostrils to process every single scent that came out of Bradley. Including his hormones, including Jake’s missing ones. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You haven’t had anyone you loved after him. You haven’t mated. If I asked you to talk to me about love, would you tell me about someone that isn’t him?” No. And that’s the fucking problem. Jake is back in town, and Bradley is forced to face him, their past and their future.

Cool About It by hushywushy {M}

If Jake thought hard about it, it was almost inevitable that he would end up here. Freaking out in his car on his way to Bradley fucking Bradshaw’s housing assignment. And he was terrified.

I can hear it now like I heard it then (c'mon, I dare you) by davidbyrne {M}

He and Jake have been many things to each other, from rivals to genuine enemies to tentative friends to lovers. But they’ve never once, in their entire acquaintance, been awkward with one another. Even in those early days of a relationship, when the boundaries between friendship and something more were soft and blurry, Bradley never felt at a loss for words. They fight and they fuck and they whisper embarrassingly soft things and they banter inconsequentially, but they’re never silent. But they’ve never been broken up before. Or two road trips, four months apart

bad idea, right? by ok_thanks {M}

From: ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!!! (AGAIN) No greeting for me? Don’t I get that Bradshaw hospitality?

A Line Dancing Rooster by 2manyf4nd0ms {_}

“How come you’re not dancing?” Bradley asks, and Jake finally looks at him. Sweat gleams on the former’s forehead in the bar lighting. It’s Jake’s turn to smirk smugly, albeit feign. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” “Right,” Bradley chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. “I forgot you’re the master at line dancing because you’re from Texas. My apologies.” Hangman rolls his eyes, playfully scoffing. “Damn right, I am.” Or, When The Hard Deck hosts a line dancing event for a night, Hangman takes the Dagger squadron for shits and giggles. He just doesn’t expect a certain Rooster to be good at it and old feelings arise.

When you love someone, you tell them that they're the one by alltherecklesshours {T}

The bunk was much smaller than Bradley remembered, but he knew he wouldn't let Jake slip.  "Marry me."  Bradley's breathing hitched. He wasn't supposed to say it out loud. They had stopped doing that for a reason. 

flying against ghosts by sky_of_starflowers {G}

When Maverick's busy asking everyone why they didn't survive the training course, Hangman goes mouthing off. He touches a nerve, and Mav and Rooster have a little bit of explaining to do. “You fly against a ghost, Rooster,” he continues, undeterred, and it shakes Mav’s brain, rattles loose a memory of Goose telling Mav the same thing at TOPGUN. Goose asking Mav to let them graduate because he’s got a family to think about, a wife and a kid, Carole and Bradley, and all of a sudden, Mav’s 24 again and cocky, recently reprimanded for a flyby that his backseater asked him not to do. It steals his breath away, Goose’s voice ringing in his ears, and he’s staring at Bradley when his knees start to give out.

Second Time Around by All_InProcess {T}

With the way that everything ended, Jake knew that he had no right to start getting jealous now. The whole mess was on him in a way, anyway. That logic, however, didn't stop the jealousy from creeping into the back of his mind when he heard about Bradley moving onwards and upwards. And, just like everything else with the two of them, trying to figure out where to go from here wasn't nearly as easy as either of them wanted to be. They just had to hope that it was all going to work out in the end.

It's the only way we know how to rock by trinipedia {T}

Bradley and Jake, once deeply in love, separated for reasons now shrouded in regret. As they navigate separate lives, the echoes of their past leave them yearning for one another, while they grapple with the possibility of rewriting their love story.

Home for the Holidays by Nickies_Nonsense {G}

“Well let me know if you need a ride anywhere,” Rooster said. Jake did not think he was serious. “For real?” he asked, shoving the note of hope back down his own throat, “I might need to take you up on that like..soon.” Rooster gave him a little smile, “I mean it, it’s the season of giving and all that bullshit,” he drawled. “Plus you got me coffee so I owe you.” Or, how Jake and Bradley got back together just in time for the holidays with the help of one broken car, a scheming Maverick, and the spirit of Christmas to guide them. Featuring lots of Jake questioning his life decisions, his ideals, and why Bradley needs to consume unreasonable amounts of sugary coffee everyday.

my heart is a christmas tree farm by greatea {E}

It's not like going to your ex-boyfriend's family Christmas while pretending to still be dating is a common favor to be asked for. But he did agree to this, when Jake phoned him up. It hadn't even taken much convincing. First, Jake had expected an immediate no when he called Bradley one Thursday evening. That didn't come. After Jake explained the situation, Bradley had said that he'd think about it. He called back an hour later. Jake's unsure what he would have done if Bradley had said no. Called his mom back and said, "Hey, do you remember when you asked me if I was bringing my boyfriend Bradley to Christmas this year, and I said yes? Yeah, we broke up two months ago and I lied for no reason"? - or the one with the fake dating

C'mere by Highsmith {T}

Jake never starts shit. Not in the traditional sense. Shit is more like the eventual consequence with him a lot of the time. But he does his best to get the last word regardless. For that, he needs to not be scrambling at the last moment, clotheslined by forces outside his control.

It's not living, if it's not with you by marchrain {G}

i think about you (so don't let go)

Bradley turns his entire body to face Jake, his heels snugly dug into the poorly shovelled snow. He just looks at Jake, a soft and gentle look lingering in his gaze. He had missed this, being alone with Jake, seeing him under his gleaming armour of Hangman, acting as no one else but Jake Seresin. Jake, he thinks. Not Hangman. -- or: jake & bradley take a morning walk in the winter, and they talk about their feelings

it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

“You know, you can be honest with me, Jake,” Bradley says, tone like he’s talking to a small puppy, tone so gentle. Honest? He doubts complete honesty is possible when the need for Bradley as something more than friends gnaws at him with every waking moment. -- or: jake & bradley take a morning walk in the winter, and they talk about their feelings (jake pov this time)

[torchickentacos]

21 and 22 for drew? or may if you’ve already been asked those ones about him!

From this ask game! LONG, under cut. Various off-topic musings included.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Ok so disclaimer for the few people who read what I write- this may or may not translate into my end product. I try to keep it in mind but ultimately my fics kind of write themselves and I have minimal input tbh. I'm not steering this car, I just put my foot on the pedal. I make it go but the characters are the ones driving with reckless abandon.

Also these are all just my opinions and if anyone hates them, please don't let me know.

Something that I like doing when writing Drew is leaning into how much he thinks. I enjoy leaning into his internal dialogue, his hang-ups on every little thing, his propensity to dwell (in my characterization of him, anyways, which is, ehhh, give or take maybe 85% taken from canon and 25% bullshitted. My math is wrong but I'm not changing it, there's just an extra 15% of my own bullshit and we'll pretend it was intentional).

When writing him, there tends to be a lot more going on internally than when I write, idk, May or Ash or whoever. Drew's always attuned to the situation, picking things up and filing them away. He's always formulating opinions and thoughts and emotions that rarely make it out of his head. He feels a lot of things but generally they stay inward, whereas when writing someone like May, if she's feeling it, she's probably also expressing it regardless of if she should or not. No filter vs too much of a filter for his own good.

I think that, in a related vein, he's always holding himself back. Both vocally and just... kind of in general? Maybe not career-wise, but emotionally, he'd rather get close and then dart away over and over again instead of making any leaps. He's careful. He'd rather balance on a tightrope than take the fall USUALLY *(this is how I write him, and other portrayals are ones that I love! this is just what I do, not what I'm saying is the right thing). We see it in canon- he gives May roses but hides behind excuses. He starts conversations but leaves just as quickly. He's mercurial and never builds up the bravery that he needs. He's careful to the point of cowardice- and not just ship-wise. This can be used for any number of things, which I find fun. He likes being in control, and if he doesn't feel like he has a steady grasp on a situation, he leaves. And you can't control people's emotions, so that's scary, so he dips out from emotional moments unless something stronger keeps him there. It's a constant push-and-pull between his own mind and emotions. One's always trying to rein the other in and break free of the other at the same time.

He likes certainty. This contrasts well with a certain someone whose entire battle style features assist and metronome, which is built in uncertainty. She challenges him. But that's for another post.

Something I dislike writing is leaning into how much of a jerk he actually is in canon sometimes tbh. Canon can keep that- I do enjoy it situationally but overall I leave that to writers who are better at showing that side of him without making him grating. I prefer watering it down some and making him be annoying in different ways lol, which admittedly does actually close off a few interesting avenues and facets of him. But I think given the tumultuous nature of rival ships and fandom's current... propensity for tossing out words like 'romanticizing' and 'idolizing' and whatever else, I'd rather just leave well enough alone with the worse aspects of him and avoid being called a verbal abuse apologist or whatever 😭 I don't want any avenues for some jackass to be like 'oh ew you write m/f relationships where the man is mean and dominant over the poor woman' or whateverthefuck. TLDR, I'm a people pleaser with worn-thin patience for rival ship discourse.

I also lean towards AU/slice-of-life stuff where his rival jerkassery is less applicable to begin with, anyways. I am FULLY guilty of watering him down and making him nicer, but I'm self-aware, so... there's that, I guess, lol. I also think he'd chill out as he gets older, anyways, leaning more towards 'vaguely prickly and sardonic' than anything else.

Anyways, it's kinda weird to answer these when I never actually share my writing on this blog, but oh well. That privilege got revoked after someone was mean about my writing around me without knowing that it was mine, lol. It wasn't even good criticism (which baffles me because god knows they had material to work with), it was just general bitching about ship fics that aren't as complex as War and Peace. God forbid some people enjoy fluff. Send me to the corner of shame along with the few dozen people who liked my writing and the people who left kind comments. Anyways, it's funny now, but I still won't share writing here. The best way to support me is to support writers in general.

So! General call to action. Go find a fic for your favorite ship (or just any fic in general but I'm being petty and saying 'ship' since the rude person seemed to take issue with shipping) and leave a (NICE. 🔪) comment. Just a heart emoji if you feel like it. Tell writers when you reread their work, just a 'Hey! rereading and remembering how much I liked this one :)' or something. It'll keep them going for a week, I'm telling you. I still think about and reread every single comment that I have ever received. I keep them all copy-pasted in a google doc. It's 24 pages long and 11.2k and it makes me cry (in a good way).

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

This is going to sound so fucking backhanded but I LOOOOOVE reading fics where he has friends. I love reading him talking to Solidad or Gary or Ash or May as a friend or whoever else!!! Make him socialize!!!! it's fun! Lord knows that he doesn't do it enough and it shows. I like reading fics where he gets to interact with people that he doesn't talk to often in canon. So anyone but May pretty much. I love his horrendously down-bad tunnel vision where he only acknowledges May and literally nobody else, funny as hell, but also it'd have been so fun if he actually spoke to other people. I read a fic several years ago where he and Paul were sorta-work-friends, it was some 2014 assassin AU PS/CS/IS fic. but I remember that Drew would intentionally play coldplay songs around Paul to annoy him or something like that. They had a frenemies-bromance-coworkers thing going on and it was just DELIGHTFUL, if a little odd! That shit's hilarious! Let me see Drew bothering other people on purpose and joking with friends!

So. Things I don't like. I personally disagree with the early 2010s FFN portrayals of him as a casanova womanizer, BUT I also kind of love those portrayals for their sheer absurdity and the camp factor lmao. It's not even an ironic enjoyment, it's a genuine affection for that whole era of fics. It's the opposite of how I write him, but it's nostalgic to look back on old fanon. I also don't care for fics that break him and May up but that's obviously a personal bias that I've literally gone against myself on, lmao. It can be done well but sometimes it skirts into ship-bashing territory, usually at Drew's expense. Just because it's not a preference of mine doesn't mean that it's a bad thing to write! I'm just not the audience and that's okay, it's not a failing of the writer. I mentioned the person who disliked my fics and said so publicly, and that doesn't reflect on me. It reflects on their tastes. Same goes here. It's just not to my taste. It's subjective and not at all a statement on the quality or validity of a fic that includes those things.

[speuradair]

Poly! Silco and Viktor With A Partner Who Has Autistic Shutdowns

Request: “Hey, could I request poly Silco and Viktor with a shared M! or GN! S/O who has autistic shut downs and how they’d deal with it? Like they get pretty non verbal and really sensitive to sound.”

protective boyfriends

these two are very doting in general, but especially when you start to shut down

in different ways of course

Viktor is more openly affectionate and caring

while Silco has his own ways of showing his own equally as strong affinity for you

people may not expect it from a man as intimidating and harsh as Silco, but he’s actually extremely intuitive when it comes to your emotions

he and Viktor are both very good at picking up on the signs of your shut downs no matter how subtle they might be

Viktor takes a more direct approach

focuses on your specifically and does whatever you need him to to help you feel as comfortable as possible again

makes a habit of keeping stim/fidget toys on him at all times

that way he has some when you need them

and he also likes messing with them himself while trying to think and brainstorm

as for your light sensitivity, he always offers you his goggles if they’re on hand

they don’t completely filter out the light, but it does take the edge off enough to make it more bearable while getting you somewhere less bright

more than willing to cover your eyes with his hands if you’d like, or to let you bury your face into his neck/shoulder/chest

very very gentle with you overall, more worried about you directly than towards whatever triggered your shutdown

Silco tends to be more reactionary

Not in a negative or scary way, but in a concerned way where he wants to make sure whatever upset you is no longer able to upset you

especially knowing that Viktor is fully focused on you directly he feels that it’s important for him to make things less overwhelming for you so you can start to feel better

if you were overwhelmed by trying to complete a task or chore, he’ll do everything he can to get the task done for you

if it was environmental factors like noise, smells, light, temperature, etc, he ensures that you three can get out of there as quickly and easily as possible

and if it’s a person that upset you? oh man

it’s not going to end well for them

he doesn’t do anything in front of you, of course, as the last thing he wants to do is upset you further

Once he’s taken care of whatever triggered you as much as he possibly can, Silco joins Viktor by your side to take care of you

They’re both already so protective of you as it is, so when you’re upset or not feeling well they’re even more attentive, practically hovering over you until they’re completely sure that you’re alright again

if you want to be comforted physically they’re more than happy to hold you, let you curl up against them while they rub your back, play with your hair

they’re very focused on making sure you’re taken care of as well, making sure you’re drinking water after being so upset and not ignoring body cues like hunger, being too cold/warm, needing to go to the bathroom

they’re both glued to your side for the rest of the day so they’re definitely there when you need them and so you don’t feel alone

not only do they not force you to speak when you’re nonverbal, they encourage you to rest and not speak more than you need to until you’re feeling completely comfortable again

they’re pretty good at understanding what you want or need, so there’s no need to force yourself

these boys love you so so much, and that’s evident in the way they eagerly take care of you at all times

your shutdowns are no burden to them, they want nothing more than to help you feel alright again <3

[secretgaygenttomura]

A Life Worth Living - Chapter 3

TW for verbal abuse/manipulation

The walk home was one made in shame and fear, furtive glances sneaking up at the man. It'd been halfway there before Tomura actually decided to speak up and say something. "...Your name isn't actually Goemon, isn't it, Mister?"

Damn it, he was totally going to give himself away at this rate, but the allure to curiosity his younger state of being gave him was inescapable. You'd think you'd be able to advise your younger self otherwise? No, being young fills you with so many impulses that you don't know what to do with, you just have to go along with them sometimes.

It isn't that he hadn't learned how to filter himself, it's that often by reflex, humans speak before they think. It's a pretty dangerous habit of humans.

The man almost seemed to flinch at the mention, but it was just him being still for a moment too long. He looked down at Tomura with a wry, faux-relaxed smile, "Now, Young Shimura, why would you think that?"

Tomura took a deep breath in and out; watching the pavement pass beneath his feet as they walked, "You... You said your name was different, some other time."

The tall man's smile turned strained, "Did I? You'll have to tell me what it was..."

Tomura's heart was decidedly beating much faster than it should, now. He realized he'd messed up badly, "Um... I dunno it was like..." Tomura looked up at the man, only to see his red eyes piercing through him. Scared, Tomura's voice choked up, "U-Uh...?"

Tomura gulped, trying to look at anything else around him, "M-Mister, you're scaring me- I really don't know."

The man looked up and away, "Hm... You're an interesting one, Shimura."

Tomura let out a quiet sigh of relief, thinking the danger had passed... It didn't.

The man stopped them dead in their tracks, and said, "You are a very interesting one." He knelt down to Tomura, making direct eye contact. "Tell me, boy... you haven't gone to the doctor for your quirk yet, have you?"

Tomura took a step back, startled, "I-I dunno-"

"Good." The man regained a grin, "Because... May I tell you a secret?"

Admittedly, even scared half to death, Tomura nodded.

"They were going to tell you you weren't getting one anyway, Tenko... You're quirkless!" The man held up one of Tenko's hands, offering, "Unless... You'd want one of mine? I can give one to you with my quirk... All For One."

Tomura's stance was held frigidly still, as All For One stared at him with glinting eyes from under his fedora. This close of an encounter caused a wave of memories lost in dissociative fugues to come rushing back. This was exactly how it'd happened last time, why couldn't he remember? Suddenly he was back in the past as Tenko again, as the same All For One made him a deal for his new quirk... He mumbled, "All For One..."

The accidental absence of a questioning tone had All For One gaining suspicion, before he looked at All For One's hand, and quickly pulling his own away. "I- How do you know that, though? You're not a doctor... I could have a quirk! What kinda quirk would you give me, anyways?"

Besides his hate for the Decay quirk and what it did to him, Tomura couldn't stop staring at All For One's hand, thinking about it. Despite how dangerous it was, it was also... familiar. Maybe he could do it right this time...

All For One answered, waving his fingers to show off tiny lightshows dancing around his hand, "I'd give you... Something incredibly powerful. It would be so easy to become a hero with it, your father wouldn't even blink before getting you enrolled at UA."

"Really...?" Tomura's curiosity posessed him yet again, but he was still skeptical. His memories blurred just near the end of their encounter, as if...

"So, Tenko, do we have a deal?"

Dealing with the devil, of course. Even as Tomura knew what would come out of this, he knew how Decay worked, he could control it this time. At least, he hoped he could.

---

The next thing he knew, he was standing at the door of his house, looking up as Mr. Goemon walked away, and his mom ushered him back inside. "Tenko... Your father better not have heard that..."

She sighed, "Well, it's almost time for your medication cream anyway. Can you go find your toys and meet me in the living room?"

Feeling somewhat dizzy, Tomura nodded. He guessed he was just tired, not sure exactly why, though... His hands were kind of tingly, but that's probably from getting them all scraped up playing, right? Yeah...

But, when all things went quiet for just a moment, was when Tomura heard a terrifyingly familiar heavy footstep behind him. He felt like he was weightless again, but this time it was served alongside terror as he found himself being dragged across the house by his father.

"Playing hero again? What did I tell you, Tenko?!"

As Tomura flailed to reach the ground again and regain control of the situation he once again felt so utterly helpless in, Nao returned to the hall. Appalled, she cried out, "Kotaro! Stop being so hard on him!"

Tomura gave in to his instinct to cry, reaching out for his mother, but this time his sobs and whines were quieter... Almost sounding strangled. He couldn't tell you why or how, but he knew the last time, he had made much more noise.

Kotaro said, as they approached the sliding back door to their house, "Maybe you've finally learned your lesson this time."

Exiting to the backyard and leaving Nao behind, Tomura's flailing caused him to stub his toe on one of the steps. He whimpered, ironically getting quieter as he curled into himself from the pain. He was so used to reacting in anger and internalizing, now it was finally rubbing off on his new self.

Kotaro set him down on their patio across the yard, to which Tomura quickly scrambled back to the fence. Looking up at his father while he cradled his foot, he grit his teeth as tears cascaded down his face against his will. He cursed for his father's coming death, but couldn't muster up the courage to say it to his face.

Kotaro stated coldly, "You'll stay out here until I say you can come back inside, got it?"

Tomura furrowed his brows and looked to the side with a pained pout. That turned out not to be the right answer.

"Tenko!" Kotaro yelled.

Tomura immediately snapped back to attention, prematurely wincing back from the hit he was sure he was going to get. But he couldn't even be right about that, could he?

"You will not undermine my authority in this house, boy." Kotaro commanded, "Say yes."

"Y-Yes, Father." Tomura muttered.

The silence was so loud in those following seconds.

"Good." Without another word, Kotaro turned around and went back inside.

Tomura breathed heavily, as the tears continued to run down his cheeks, irritating his scratches and stinging his eyes and nose in the sharp, cold air of dusk. He did not need a reminder of why he never wanted to return here. Why this day?

Only reflecting back, did Tomura actually remember the same day playing out in his previous life. Playing hero with Mikkun and Tomo-chan... All For One... Being kicked out of the house before dinner. His attention turned back to the house, the thought of his father briefly causing another wave of crying before he stabilized himself.

From across the yard, Tomura couldn't tell much of what was going on. There was the typical, Mom arguing with Father. His grandparents were also talking. He couldn't see his sister or Mon-chan.

He decided to look back up at the sky, try to pass the time by distracting himself with the many things outdoors. The clouds were scattered perfectly across the sky, the golden edges just starting to glow as the sun started approaching the horizon, though their suburban sprawl didn't allow Tomura to see it. The sight relaxed him, but only slightly. Maybe if he just kept staring, time would go faster.

And it did, but not in the way he expected. Left alone with his thoughts, some garden tools, and nothing more, his mind started to drift. The clouds became representations of his friends, family, memories; coloring the sky with several different scenes, all playing simultaneously. From one corner, he could see Kurogiri being introduced to him. From another, Toga was making silly faces behind Dabi while he talked. Looking through Mikkun's All Might collection, playing League Of Legends with Spinner, picking flowers with Hana while Mon-chan chased his own tail, Having a three-sided argument with Twice.

He didn't really realize how much his friends meant to him until they were...

Suddenly, his mother seemingly appearing out of nowhere in front of him startled him.

"Tenko!" She held a hand up to his cheek, gently wiping off a tear he couldn't feel before, "Sweetie, your father's been calling you for 5 minutes. Come on, lets get you some dinner."

The sky was dark.

---

The next day went roughly similarly to the former, though Tomura tried to stay away from playing heroes again... It's not like he'd become one anyway. Mikkun wasn't there that day, something about getting sick, so only Tomo-chan was there to talk.

"Your dad wasn't mean again, was he, Ten?" She pouted.

Tomura didn't return a response.

"Tenko, please, you gotta talk to me! You're acting really weirdly..."

With some frustration, Tomura raised his voice, "I just don't wanna talk about it...!"

Tomo-chan stood in stunned silence for a few moments, before hardening her disposition, "Well, now you really gotta tell me what's wrong. I've never heard you snap at someone like that!"

Tomura was surprised. He'd pretty much always thought of himself as some bratty, rude kid, because he'd always been told he was. "What do you mean...?"

"Ten, you're like the most kindhearted kid I've ever met! Just like I keep saying, 'you're just like All Might!'" Tomo-chan made the according pose, trying to strengthen her point. "Don't you get it? I haven't even seen you get mad at Ms. Sayaka when she's so strict on us."

Tomura ruminated on that, quietly.

He sighed before turning his head away, finally talking about it, "... Tomo-chan, I don't think I can be a hero..."

Tomo-chan's eyebrows furrowed, "Why not?"

"There's a lotta reasons."

"Just tell me, Ten." Tomo-chan urged, her tone quieter.

Tomura looked at her again, a steady, focused expression on her face. He searched for just about any reason not to tell her about what was going on, and... He found none. She had some of the most crucial parts of his friends in his past life: Toga's brashness, Dabi's pickiness, Kurogiri's calmness when things went wrong... and that was enough to give in, for Tomura.

"Tomo-chan... I..." This was difficult, "I think I'm gonna turn out to be a villain, a really bad one. But it's not all gonna be my fault.

I think when I get it, my quirk is going to hurt people when I get it, and that's gonna scare me into hurting more and more people, and then its gonna break things, and break and break and break them until theres nothing in the world anymore but dust...

And I think that man that took me home yesterday, Mr. Goemon, has something to do with it..."

"Ten...?"

Tomura gulped, nervous, "Y-Yeah?"

Tomo-chan exhaled quietly, a hint of disbelief glinting in her eyes, "This all sounds kinda crazy, Ten... I don't think you could harm a fly. But I can try and help."

[wild-karrde]

Congrats on the followers and thanks so much for the Friday Fic Recs (being able to scroll through them is literally what gets me through work on Fridays)!!!

Anyways for the quote ficlet for your follower celebration can you do Fox x f!reader with “The reason I drink so much caf is because I can’t sleep without you. Not that I want to sleep when I’m with you.” It can be SFW or NSFW.

And thanks again for all you do for the fandom ❤️

THANK YOU DEAR FRIEND! I am SO STOKED you enjoy the Fandom Fridays! And thank you for the prompt! It got soft, and I kinda like it. Hope you do too!

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Rating: M (implied sexual content, Fox insulting Thorn's caf making)

Your eyes flutter open as the first rays of Coruscant’s sunlight finally reach your eyelids. You wrinkle your nose, inhaling deeply and stretching your arms over your head. The soft snores continue on the other side of the bed, and you roll over slowly, watching the rise and fall of Fox’s back as he sleeps peacefully next to you. He’s turned away from the window, and you hope he’ll stay that way for a little while longer so the sun won’t wake him as well. Sleep doesn’t come easy to him, and he always seems dead on his feet, so you always look forward to these moments where he finally gets the rest he deserves. 

The chrono on the nightstand catches your eye. 

He’s still got a few more hours until he needs to leave. Unless Thorn summons him sooner. 

You don’t think that’s likely. When you’d met up at 79s last night, you could tell Thorn was concerned about Fox. He never expressed that concern verbally; he knew it would be a waste of breath. Fox would accuse him of worrying too much, and in the end, Thorn would sigh deeply, rolling his eyes while Fox continued to push himself beyond any reasonable limits. So Thorn had stayed quiet. But as you’d bid each other goodbye, he’d made sure to give you a pointed look. 

“You two go home and get some rest.” The “please” was implied. 

Thorn will be happy to know Fox had only stayed awake long enough to strip out of his armor and shower before conking out next to you with barely a whispered “Good night.” He’d been sleeping soundly ever since. 

Quietly, you slink out of bed, throwing on your robe. You tiptoe out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you to keep it quiet for your exhausted commander. 

The hum of Coruscant’s morning traffic is already carrying up to your windows as you make your way to your kitchen. You hum as you retrieve the caf carafe from the place you normally store it above your stove. Most days, you’re satisfied with a normal caf press, but mornings with Fox call for something more special. He was so used to whatever sludge he could get around the Senate offices, the first time you’d given him a pourover cup of caf, you thought he’d combust on the spot. From the way Thorn and Thire joked about the amount of caf he ingested, you figured it would be good for him to drink the quality stuff every now and again. He loved it. 

You get out the special caf blend that you save for when Fox is over, holding your breath as the grinder runs in the hopes that Fox’s heavy sleep will continue. When the grinder finishes, you wait a few seconds and are relieved to hear no shuffling or groans to indicate he’s awake. 

You dump the grounds in the carafe’s filter before heating some water on the stove in your kettle. Once it’s steaming, you do a small pour to allow the grounds to really bloom before you begin slowly pouring, ensuring to go at the correct pace to really bring out the flavors. The bitter, warm scent strikes your nostrils, and you hum quietly to yourself. You find comfort in the smell, and while you love caf as much as the next person, you know it’s secretly because it reminds you of Fox. 

Opening the cabinet over your head, you stand on tiptoe to reach the mugs. You find the new travel thermos you’d bought for Fox to fill with caf for him to take with him before pulling down your favorite mug and reaching for the one Fox seems to favor. You grunt with effort as your fingers can’t seem to find the handle. You’re considering the best way to climb up on the counter when a warm hand grazes the small of your back. 

“I’ve got it,” Fox rumbles softly as he reaches over your head, grabbing the mug and setting it down on the counter. 

“I’d hoped you’d sleep longer,” you say quietly, examining his face. The dark circles and bags under his eyes seem to have receded a bit. He looks a little closer to his actual biological age, despite the greying hair at his temples. You reach for the carafe, pouring his travel thermos first as his arms slide around your waist. You feel his chin rest on your shoulder. 

“I got enough. Plus, couldn’t keep sleeping when I smelled this brewing.” He turns his nose into the place where your neck meets your shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Best thing to wake up to.” 

You let the joke about whether he means you or the caf die on your tongue, choosing instead to lean back against him, enjoying the gentle scratch of his stubble against your cheek. You treasure these moments with him, particularly with how infrequent they are. He’d already warned you that he’ll be busy for the next few rotations and that it’ll be unlikely you’ll see each other. You hate it, but he had been very up front with you about what being with him entailed. 

Not even that had convinced you to not at least give it a try, and since then, every second you were with him had been worth it. 

“That’s new,” he comments, finally spotting the travel thermos. 

“Figured with as much as you drink this stuff, you’d better take some with you,” you joke. 

He hums against your skin in agreement. “Too bad that’s all I’ll have this week. Going to have to rely on the tar Thorn brews.” 

“I’ll have to teach Thorn how to do a pourover,” you tease. 

“I hardly trust him with the cheap stuff,” Fox replies. “No way I’d let him touch this.” 

“Then maybe you could learn.”

“I don’t think it’d help,” he says quietly. 

“Why not? You drink enough of it.” 

“Half the reason I drink so much caf is because I can’t sleep without you,” he rasps against your skin, and your heart stutters in your chest. “Not that I want to sleep when I’m with you.”

You smile, turning to face him and allowing your hands to drift around his neck, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I thought it was just because you work too much.”

“That’s the other half of it,” he concedes. “But even when I’m not working, laying in my bunk at night, all I can think of is how I’d rather be here with you.” His hands drift under your robe, pushing your nightgown up enough to grip your thighs. You giggle as he lifts you onto the counter, pressing his lips along your collarbone. “Sorry I fell asleep on you so quickly last night,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“It’s alright. Glad you could finally get some rest.” 

“How about I make it up to you now?” he asks, lifting you off of the counter. You giggle as you wrap your legs around his waist, holding on tightly to his shoulders as he starts to carry you back towards the bedroom. 

“Fox! The caf’ll get cold.”

“Let it. It’ll reheat. Right now, I’m more interested in you.”

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