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bitchinbarzal · 8 months

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thirteen | Mat Barzal

summary: the little green monster comes out when you’re wearing another jersey.

You and Mat had an argument about Mat’s newfound friendship with the new islanders presenter.

You’d seen them after one of his games, they were no longer filming their interview and instead were just talking.

Admittedly, you felt a pang of jealousy watching the scene unfold before you but then it all came to a head when you returned home and mentioned it to him.

He blew up, accusing you of thinking he was cheating, that you didn’t trust him. Essentially just blaming you for this whole argument.

You didn’t retaliate, opting to get your side out another way. Because when he goes low, you go lower.

So when the rangers found themselves at UBS arena, you were wearing blue.

“He’s gonna kill you” Sydney laughed as she found you at the bar, looking at your jersey before catching the name and number on the back.

“Oh my god! He’s gonna really kill you!”

You laugh and do a twirl for her “Like?”

“What did he do?”

You giggled and explained the situation to her “Oh my god, what a dick! Also she has totally been making the eyes at Matt this week too I get where you’re coming from”

“Right?!” You say, holding onto her arm as you both laugh about the situation.

In the suite, Alexis found you and looked at your jersey with wide eyes “Oh he fucked up!”

“Very!” Syd adds from her seat in the front and you smile at her playfully before turning to Alexis

“Me and Mat had a fight and I’m giving him a taste of his own medicine”

“Oh girl don’t explain! I’m on your side!”

The game is rough, as per usual when these two teams meet during the season.

Mat’s never one to get involved in the fighting, typically just sitting and looking pretty which you liked because it meant you were never worried about him.

That was until the period break, Mat was pulled for yet another interview by her. In which she showed him a fab picture of you in your rangers jersey

“So Mat, we hear your girlfriend is repping the Rangers tonight or better yet repping another number thirteen?!”

He looks confused until she shows him the image, his eyes immediately filling with anger.

There you were standing at the bar, in his arena wearing your ex boyfriends jersey. The name Lafrenière where Barzal usually sits.

“Uh… I didn’t know” he laughs it off but anyone who knows him can see his mind running a million miles a minute.

As soon as the interview is done he’s having to go back out, no time to text you and tell you to take it off.

Instead he goes out on the ice like a raging bull.

You watch from your spot in the box as the puck drops and Mat heads strait for Alexis on the ice, taking him straight to the floor.

You gasp as they hit the ground and begin fighting.

It doesn’t last long, Mat being sent to the box straight after. You see his face on the jumbotron, his nose is bent the wrong way and there’s blood rolling down his cheek.

You don’t say anything else, simply curling into yourself and thinking about what you’d caused. It was meant to be harmless, just a way to get back at mat for what he’d said but now his nose was broken, you felt horrible and you’re sure Alexis was out for the rest of the game.

Mat always had a jealous streak in him, from day one. You met at an event where you were Alexis’ date, Mathew introduced himself to you and immediately fell.

He waited months, scrolling through your socials for the day you’d be single and when he finally heard you had broken up he grasped the opportunity but that didn’t stop the comments and his own insecurities getting to him about your relationship.

By the end of the game you’re not celebrating like the rest of the girls, you silently made your way down to wait for Mat.

When he comes out of the locker room sporting a wrapped nose you wince. He looks at your jersey and growls

“Take it off for fuck sake”

“I don’t have anything on underneath” you mumble, the sleeves now crumbled up into your palms as you clutch them anxiously.

He doesn’t respond just walking to the car, you begin walking behind him. There was no congratulations kiss, no conversation as you sat in the car silently as he drove back to your apartment in Manhattan.

Traffic was bad which didn’t help Mat’s mood.

You tried to turn on the radio but he muted it immediately.

It wasn’t until you got to sunnyside when Mat said

“I would never hurt you like this”

You turn to him, his eyes still on the road

“Mat I’m sorry… I was annoyed about the whole-“

“I told you there was nothing happening between us! You were the one convinced I was doing something”

“I know that! And I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine!”you shouted, angry he wasn’t listening.

“Giving me a taste of my own medicine? y/n he was your fiancé… do you think I don’t feel bad about that? That you were actually so in love with him you wanted to marry him at one point!”

You sunk into the seat of the Range Rover and mumbled “Yeah well now I see it was a stupid idea”

Arriving at your apartment, Mat waited for you to get out and you asked “Are you coming in?”

“I’m going back to Long Island. I think maybe we were a mistake”

Your heart dropped in your chest and you leaned back into the car “Mat I’m sorry ok! It was stupid and I’m so sorry-“

“I’ve told you how he makes me feel y/n and you threw it in my face, in public infront of everyone to see and you embarrassed me. I don’t think I want to go through life constantly worried about everything and feeling insecure”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks “Mat please… I’m so sorry baby it’s only you, I’ll take it off, I’ll stop with the games just please-“

“I love you, but I’ve got to protect myself first” he says, starting the car again and waiting for you to step away before he drives off back home.

Leaving you standing there watching the Range Rover leave, your heart going with it.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months

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Pairing: Geto Sugurux FAB!Reader

Warning: dirty talk, a little knife play, no blood, squirting, degradation, kitchen sex!

Word Count: 4,740

A/N: A modern college AU!! I just kept thinking of two things. Suguru Geto and a Ghost-Face mask! This is my first post!!

Summary: When you fall asleep waiting for your boyfriend Geto Suguru to get home, you pass out holding your book. The dark romance smut book. The same book your boyfriend picks up and reads. A masked stalker? Geto can give you exactly what you want!

MINOR DNI!!!

The second Geto walked into your shared apartment, the tension in his shoulders seemingly vanished. The stress of his night classes and future exams didn't matter. He took his shoes off. All that mattered was being here at home with you.

Treading into the kitchen, Geto blinked, stunned not to find you sitting at the counter—the spot you had claimed for the last three nights. You sipped on a cup of tea while reading the pages of your newest book, where you asked about his day and seemed hesitant when he asked you about yours. But that had to be because you were lost in your book.

Heading into the bedroom, Geto grinned, finding you curled on your side. Upon hearing your soft breathing, Geto treaded carefully toward your side of the bed. From the book barely in your grasp to the entire cup of tea on the nightstand, Geto could piece together what had happened.

You tried staying up late for the fourth night to welcome him home. It came as no surprise that you had fallen asleep. You were so selfless and caring; those were a couple of the many things Suguru loved about you. You deserved a good night's rest. Grabbing the book, Geto glanced around for your bookmark. He reached over your body, mindlessly searching for it under the blankets.

The second he pulled it out from the blankets, he opened the book to place it securely where you'd left off. But just before he closed the book, a particular line caught his attention. ‘My masked stalker bent me over the counter, tossing his knife to the side before he buried his cock inside of me.’ Suguru read the line over and over again before peering down at you.

What kind of book were you reading? You were his sweet, high fantasy fairy romance-loving girlfriend? The same girl that gets flustered over the couple having to share a bed at an inn?

Well, this was a pleasant surprise.

With his interest peeked, Suguru sat in the living room reading the first few chapters of your dirty, dark romance. Calling it that was an understatement. This book was filthy. The stalker wore a Ghostface mask, fucked the heroine with the handle of a knife, and killed anyone that touched her. The sex scenes were so dark, gruesome, and arousing. He could see why you hadn't been able to put it down.

And why you were always flushed when he came home.

He wasn't an idiot; he knew why you liked it. The author described the stalker character as tall, long dark hair, and incredibly strong. You saw him in this character. Was that why you were so hesitant every night he had come home? Did you want something from him? Perhaps some role-playing?

The more he read, the harder his cock throbbed. This book was what you had been squirming and fantasizing about. And if his assumptions were correct, these were things you might want to try out. How cruel would it be to allow you to continue to suffer in silence? What kind of boyfriend would he be?

With a few taps on his phone, Suguru smirked as he got the notification that his package would arrive tomorrow. There was no going back now. All he could do was wait.

(~)(~)(~) (~)(~)(~) (~)(~)(~)

“Did you finish it?” Shoko asked through your phone as you stepped off the elevator on the third floor.

“No, I passed out reading last night. I'll finish it tonight, though.”

“Are you going to ask Suguru to buy a Ghost-Face mask?”

The teasing tone in your friend's voice made you blush. Not because it was embarrassing, but because you fucking wanted to. Reading Leo’s Throne had awakened things you didn't know you were into. Like choking, biting, rough sex, and being chased by a sexy masked man.

Sighing heavily, you stopped, “Shoko, please,” she giggled at your pain, “it's embarrassing! I don't want him to think I'm some fucked up delinquent.” The line grew silent as hushed whispers bickered on the other line.

“Uhm, I hate to break it to you.” Gojo chimed in, “But beating your meat to a girl getting fucked with the handle of a kni-”

“Shut up!”

More laughter erupted from the other line. “Look, we're not kink-shaming you. We're just encouraging you to talk to Suguru.” Shoko continued as Gojo cackled.

“That doesn't make me feel any better.” A whine worked its way up your throat.

It wasn't like sex with Geto was dull! Not in the slightest. You had never squirted until you met your fantastic boyfriend. The man left your legs trembling and tears running down your face whenever you were intimate. But you just wanted something different. Different as in your boyfriend acting as if he was your masked stalker. Doing that meant you would be asking him to be rougher than he ever had been before.

Oh yeah, how could that ever be mortifyingly embarrassing?

“Just go at your own pace, Y/N. Don't force yourself if you're not comfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just got home. I'll see you two later.”

With a final goodbye, you shoved your phone into your pocket as you unlocked the door to your and Suguru’s shared apartment. It was Friday, so he would be home tonight, seeing as he had no night classes. Now would be the ideal time to discuss the kinky things you wanted to try. For Suguru to be rougher, possibly wear a mask. . .and to chase you around the apartment before he fucked the air out of your lungs.

No holding back! Shoko and Gojo were right. There was no harm in asking!

As you stepped into the apartment, you knew something was different. The sun had just begun to set, and the living room light was off. Which was strange, seeing as it was on a timer. Did the apartment lose power or something?

“Suguru?” No answer. “Suguru, I'm home!” you announced as you slipped your tennis shoes off.

“Welcome home.” Hearing your boyfriend's voice from within eased your nerves.

“Hey, what's going on with the lights? Did we lose power or something?” Without Suguru’s response, you found your answer, noticing the stove clock and refrigerator buzzing hum. “Babe?”

Silence passes by before his chuckle resonates from down the hall. “I turned them off.” That was the only response you got back.

“Why?”

“I thought I would set the mood.”

“I'm sorry. What mood are you trying to set?”

“I'm thinking we could play a little, angel~.”

Your body stiffened, not from his tone or the way he was acting, but because he called you Angel. Never once in your two-year relationship or your five-year friendship has Geto Suguru called you Angel. But Leo Rainsworth, the stalker from Leo’s Throne, called the heroine Angel all the damn time. Because she was so pure, he saw himself as a dark demon.

You were fucked.

“Ohh fuck.”

Another dark chuckle echoes from down the hall. “Oh, fuck is right. You fell asleep with your book in your hand last night. I just happened to read a couple of chapters.” Floorboards creaked from the dark hall. “I just have to say, I didn't know you were into kinky shit like that.” Another creak had your heart thundering against your ribcage.

“I-I well, it was—” you stuttered, trying to find the right words. There was no denying Suguru had found your smut. So you might as well tell him the truth. “It was so fucking hot.”

“Was it now?” You hummed in response. “Were you wanting to try some of that stuff? Is that why you stayed up late waiting for me this week? You were hesitant to ask, weren't you? Didn’t want me to know how fucking kinky you are?”

“Y-Yeah, I wanted to ask, but I was nervous. I didn’t know if it would be a turn-off?”

Suguru sighed heavily. “Well, seeing as someone doesn't know how to communicate their wants.” The sound of something, hard, being dragged over the wall made your pussy clench. “I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

A whimper passed through your lips. Holy fuck, the anticipation of what was to come was almost too much to handle. Shifting your legs, you felt just how wet you were. Your panties were utterly soaked with your arousal. Fuck this hot.

“Fuck.”

“Do you want this?” There was no trace of teasing in Suguru’s voice. He was serious, wanting to know if you were okay with this continuing. “Are you comfortable?”

“God, yes. I-I want this Sugu.”

The response was so sudden it took both of you off guard. No hesitation, no questions asked. Just a simple answer. One that was about to rock your world.

“What’s our safeword?”

“Pineapple.”

“And our safety colors?”

“Green for good, yellow means I need you to slow down, or I need to take a break, and red means stop.” You recited, stepping out of the kitchen to look down the dark hallway for your boyfriend. The eagerness was moving you a step closer to his voice.

“You use them if things get too intense. It doesn't matter how far we get. I could be inside you, but if you say red, we stop.”

“Right, I understand.”

A tall silhouette strutted forward as your eyes finally adjusted to the dark hallway. “Good girl,” he says, taking another step forward. “Now, do me a favor.” Suguru stepped out into the living room, and you swear your heart dropped into your stomach. “Run.”

Your boyfriend is shirtless, black jeans clinging to his hips. Dragging your eyes up, you bite down on your bottom lip. Every fantasy you had in the last four days comes true in seconds. Suguru’s handsome face was hidden behind a Ghostface mask. Making it impossible to read his expressions, which made this ten times hotter. The uncertainty of what was going on through his head had you clenching your thighs together.

“I said run,” he repeated, holding up a large plastic prop knife, “Angel.”

You turned, running towards the kitchen, your socks sliding against the hardwood floor. Just as you slid, a rush of air grazed your back. Looking over your shoulder, you inhaled, seeing your boyfriend on your trail. He didn’t even give you a head start. Goddamn, he was playing the part well. Ducking slightly, you pushed forward, stumbling, only to hear Suguru curse as he missed you again.

“Holy shit, what happened to a ten-second head start?” You gasped out, standing at the far side of the kitchen island.

“Tsk,” he ran his thumb over the knife's hilt, “and give you a chance to get away? I don’t think so.”

Suguru moved, walking towards you as you stepped back. He was like a great white shark, circling the kitchen island, stalking his prey. Which just so happened to be you. Knowing that at any moment he could charge you, it had your pussy throbbing in need.

“Oh shit.” You looked around, thinking of what to do. Heading to the living room would result in a short-lived chase. If you took it to the bedroom, you might just end up begging for him to fuck you. “Fuck, fuck me.”

“Oh, I intend to. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll have to cancel all of your plans tomorrow.” He smirked. “Not only will you not be able to walk, but I will mark you up. Make you even prettier than you already are.”

“T-That can only happen if you catch me.”

Hearing those words made Suguu’s body stiffen. His ab’s were rising and falling with labored breathing. Your eyes darted towards the prop knife, watching his fist clenched harder around it.

“If?” He asked, placing his free hand over the marble counter. “Baby, it’s not a question of if.” He leaned towards you. “It’s a question of when.”

Mouth dry, you gulped before slowly smirking. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try.”

“Ooh,” Suguru scoffed, “remember those words when my cock is slamming into your cervix.”

It happened so fast that it made your head spin. Like a predator, Suguru gracefully leaped, sliding over the marble countertop. Your jaw dropped as you stumbled back, staring at Suguru as he towered over you. He didn’t even give you a chance to process what was happening. His large hand grabbed you by the back of your neck. Suddenly, Suguru had you turned around and bent over the counter.

“What was that about seeing me try?” His voice was thick with need. “Well, look at you now, bent over the counter just like the heroine in your nasty. . .little. . .book.”

You knew that your inner thighs were slick with your arousal. “Oh my god.” You squirmed under Geto’s grasp, which made him push down on your neck harder.

“It was hard to imagine my sweet vanilla girlfriend getting off on something so dark and demented.” You jolted as he kicked at your ankles, spreading your legs further apart. “But seeing you like this, squirming, breathing heavily, I can see you aren’t as vanilla as I assumed.” His knee slid between your legs, pressing his knee firmly against your clothed cunt. “Tell me~ are you soaked, you nasty slut?”

“S-Sugu~!” You cried out, rocking your hips back against his knee.

“As pretty as my name sounded coming out of your mouth, it wasn’t an answer to my question.” His left hand slowly grazed under your shirt. “Perhaps I need to be rougher~?”

Before you could fathom that, cool steel grazed over the small of your back. The metal barely touched you, but it was still a sharp contrast against your rapidly heating skin that grounded you. Being grounded made things clearer as you realized that the prop knife Suguru was holding was, in fact, not a prop.

It was real.

“S-Suguru, is that real?”

Upon hearing your words, Suguru pulled the cool blade away. “Yeah, it is.” Suguru stared down at your bent form, waiting for you to respond. Your body had tensed up when he confirmed the steel was, in fact, real. “Are you okay? What color are you feeling? Talk to me, baby.” He wasn’t going to assume just because you hadn’t used your designated safe word or a color that, you were okay. “Babe, I need an answer.”

For just a moment, he assumed that maybe he had crossed a line. Before the doubt could settle in his gut, he watched as your stiff body melted against the kitchen island. Your hips rocked harder against his knee as your cunt throbbed through your leggings. A breath caught in his throat, seeing how you desperately humped his knee. Gritting his teeth, he fought against the urge to rock his hips against you. Despite your body’s actions and the desperation in your movements, he still needed an answer.

“Princess,” he groaned, “color.”

“Green!” You cried out, rocking harder. “Fucking green!”

“Good girl,” he fisted you t-shirt. “I’ll buy you another.”

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to look behind. “Another who—“You were cut off when Suguru stabbed the knife through your shirt. “Holy shit!” You slowed your movements as you listened to Suguru rip our shirt up the middle of your back.

“Oooh~ look at how pretty you are.” The knife slid under the hem of your leggings. “Bent over the counter.” With the jerk of his hand, you listened as your pants became his next victim. “Surrounded by the clothes I ripped off of you.”

He repeated the process, your thong and bra following your leggings, and that littered the floor. The whole situation was erotic; you felt your slick seep out of you, dripping shamelessly to the ground. You’d never been so fucking aroused. You needed Suguru so bad.

“S-Sugu, please!”

“Please, what?” His right hand left your neck, fingers trailing down your back. “Use your words.”

“Please, touch me!”

He hummed, training his fingers lower and lower before for inched over your ass. “Please!” a loud smack flooded the kitchen, followed by a sharp stinging pain over your ass.

“I told you to use your words, angel!” He snarled, pressing his body against yours. The knife pressed firmly against your cheek. “Tell me what you want slut.”

“F-Finger me! Fuck m, please! I need you!!” You cried out in desperation. Pleased with your begging, Suguru slapped your ass again before he wrapped his right arm around your waist, dipping between your legs. His fingers quickly began rubbing quick circles around your throbbing clit. “Fuck!!”

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet.” he increased the speed of his fingers, “it wouldn't take much to make you cum would it?”

He was right; it wouldn't take much to make you cum. “M-More!” You begged as he removed his knee. “Please don't te-AH!” Two thick fingers plunged inside your tight cunt.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “fuck your pussy is clamping down on me!” Suguru immediately set a brutal pace, curling his fingers up, reaching a little further as he rubbed your g-spot. “My dirty princess,” he fucked into your sweet spot over and over and over again. Not once letting up. “Does that feel good? I can feel your cunt twitching.”

“S-So good~! S-Sugu! Ah fuck, fuck!” his thumb reached up, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. “I-I’m gonna~!”

The cool steel of the knife pressed harder against your face. “Yeah?” Weakly, you opened your eyes, coming face to face with the Ghostface mask. “You look at me when you cum on my fingers.” His words made the coil in your abdomen tighten. “Eyes on me, angel~ you be a good girl and cum for me.” How could you deny him?

“C-cumming! I'm c-cumm—” A scream left your lips as you came. Your pussy clamped down on Suguru’s fingers as a stream of clear liquid squirted out of you. Feeling your juices hit the ground, spreading under his bare feet, ignited a need in Suguru.

“That's it!” He all but yelled. “Fuckin’ good girl~ so good.” Seeing you squirt always riled him up. Good god, he needed to see it again.

You had thought that he was going to work you slowly through your orgasm like he usually did. But not once did he slow down. Instead, he curled his fingers deeper, his pace not flattering, moving in and out faster and harder. All you could do was lay there, legs shaking as he finger fucked you.

“S-Suguru, w-what?!” you cried out as he growled in your ear.

“Again, I need you to fucking squirt again.”

“B-But Sugu, I want you!” Tears flooded your eyes, the pleasure becoming more intense with each thrust of his fingers.

“I know, I know, baby, give me one more and I fuck you.”

Seeing the tears spilling over your cheeks made Suguru throb harder. “Sugu~! I—” Suguru pressed the knife harder against your cheek.

“I don't remember asking. I’m telling you, you're going to squirt again.”

The chill of his words and the knife had your eyes rolling back. It was so overwhelming, so much pleasure. Your thighs were shaking, knees buckling in as he slammed directly into each g-spot. The coil tightened harder and harder until it snapped.

“That’s it!” Suguru praised, growling as your pussy fluttered around his fingers. “Come on, cum for me, cum on my fingers. Make a mess!” Your screams were music to his ears as he felt you cum. You squirted hard, coating your thighs, his jeans, and the floor.

He pulled his fingers out, glancing at your cum, that was dripping off his fingers. The two of you were breathing heavily, not saying a word. Suguru’s cock was so hard, the tip leaking pre-cum, painting the inside of his boxers. He knew you were enjoying this, but holy shit, he was enjoying it just as much, if not more.

“S-Sugu-”

Hearing your shaking voice brought him back to reality. His right hand gently rubbed up and down your back. “You okay? Need a break?” He watched as you shook your head. Your Y/E/C eyes were glazed over with lust as you pressed your ass back against his hips rubbing slowly against his cock.

“No fuck me, please fuck me. I-I need your cock.”

You listened to him growl deep in his chest. Suddenly, you heard his belt being undone, followed by his zipper. You didn't know what to expect. He seemed so calm and collected. But any average, calm person would not have tossed a knife to the ground. He most definitely would not have grabbed your hips so tight before suddenly slamming his cock deep inside your tight cunt.

The sudden fullness of his cock caused the air to escape your lungs. Your mouth formed an ‘O’ shape as Suguru pulled nearly out before slamming back inside you. Feeling your tight twitching walls hug his cock so snuggly had Suguru feral. He had no control over himself as he pounded your pussy, harder and harder with each thrust. He was so deep his tip gently pressed into your cervix.

“Oh, my fuckin fuck!” You cried out, his left hand gently pressing your head against the counter. “S-Su—gu—-ru!!” each syllable of his name was fucked out of you by his thrusts.

“Yeah~?” His hand left your head. Instead, his long fingers wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing. “Feels good? You like it like this?”

“Y-Yeah!! Deep so fucking deep!!”

“Fuck yeah, I am~ I feel your pussy clamping down. Did you imagine this~? Imagine me fucking you just as rough?” all you could manage to do was nod. “You like your stalker fucking your tight cunt?”

That sweet, smokey tone of his voice, your boyfriend's voice, had you clamping down harder on him. He was right; you did want this, and you fantasized about asking him to do precisely this. And he had fulfilled your fantasy, going above and beyond to make it perfect. He was perfect, so fucking good to you.

“Sugu~ Suguru~”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want~? Faster? Harder?” When you shook your head, he slowed his thrusts just a tad bit. “No~? What do you need.” His hand squeezed harder around your throat, cutting some of your air off.

You almost told him to keep going when he choked you like that. With a shaky moan, you turned, staring into the eyes of the Ghostface mask. “I-I want a kiss.” Out of all the things he had expected you to say, that wasn't one of them. But Get Suguru wasn't the kind of man to deny Y/L/N Y/N.

A whimper sounded from deep in your throat as Suguru gently pulled out. His hand slid down your curves, turning you around to face him. In the dying twilight light, you stared at the sweat beading against his skin, slowly running down his ab’s. Trailing your eyes up, his skin was illuminated by the soft pink and lilac tones from outside. After taking in his body, your Y/E/C landed on the mask.

His hand left your hip, tugging the mask off his head. Suguru’s dark eyes were glazed over with love and desire. His dark bun was messy; his bangs were sticking to his face by the sheen of sweat beading on his forehead. He was such a stunning man. And he was yours.

Tossing the mask to the side, Suguru’s hands grabbed your hips, placing you on the counter. As soon as you were settled, his lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss. One that made your toes curl as you matched his pace, kissing back with the same enthusiasm and force. It was the kind of kiss that made you moan into his mouth as he gently pulled you towards the edge, his free hand easing his hot cock back inside your pussy.

“Suguru.” You moaned against his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip inside. “Mhmm.”

Your tongues massaged each other in a slow sensual kiss as he fucked you deeply. It was so good. He tasted good, felt good, god, he smelt so good. Everything about this night was good.

“Fuck, Y/N-“ he growled, pulling away, “I love you. You feel so good, so perfect. You’re such a good girl.” His words made your heart race as you kissed him again.

“Love you too~ so much, thank you for this~” Your praises had him groaning deeply into your mouth. His thrusts increased in speed and power as he kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

Suguru slid his hand down between your conjoined bodies, rubbing your clit in fast circles. “Cum for me, Y/N, milk my cock, baby~ I wanna cum inside you.” Arching your back, a string of moans erupted from your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Y/N fuck, yes, just like that~”

“I'm gonna cum!” you cried out against his mouth. “Sugu, I'm cumming baby~ c-cu—” Your warning was cut off by a scream as your walls clamped down on his cock, milking him.

“Fuck~! Fuck! You're so tight~ tighter than ever.” Suguru grunted, kissing and nipping at your neck as he bit down on your skin. “Focus on my cock~ feel me~ feel it~ Fuck! I'm cumming!” Pulling you tighter against him, Suguru’s thrusts became messy before you felt his cock throb hard. Ropes of hot cum filled your pussy, and he kept thrusting, fucking it deep inside you as he rode the waves of both your orgasms.

By the time he stopped, the sun was long gone, and the entire apartment was enveloped in darkness. Not that either of you cared. Nothing mattered as you two basked in the afterglow. Your heart rates and breathing went from ragged and fast-paced to shallow and calm. The entire time you came down, Suguru had you firmly pressed against his bare chest. He was holding you as close as he could as you both recovered.

Hours seemed to pass before Suguru slowly lifted you off the counter. You rested your head against his shoulder as he carried you to the bedroom, gently laying you on the bed. Without a word, Suguru left the room and returned with a bottle of water and a warm rag. He cleaned you up, his eyes occasionally meeting yours as he smiled fondly.

Your cheeks burned as you returned his loving smile. “Drink some water. I'll be right back,” he said, handing the bottle to you before heading back to the kitchen.

He was gone for several minutes before he returned. “Where did you go?” You asked, watching as he came back in just in his boxers.

“I wanted to clean up real quick,” he responded, crawling into bed and wrapping his toned arms around you. “Tossed my stuff in the washer, yours in the trash.”

“Damn,” you giggle, “I loved that shirt.” Suguru chuckled, pulling you tighter against him.

“Sorry, I'll buy you another.”

“Nah, it's okay.” you hummed, “it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.” You turned to face him. “Thank you again, that was so much fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” Suguru gently cupped your face in his hand. “I love you very much.”

“I love you too.”

He gently pressed a kiss against your lips. He was holding you firmly again at him. This evening was the perfect way to end a week. Fantastic sex snuggling your boyfriend, you couldn't ask for a more ideal night—a night where your fantasy had come true.

“So,” Suguru started, “I bought you the rest of the series of Leo’s Throne. We need to reenact some more scenes, I think.”

Pulling back, you couldn't stop the laughter rising in your chest. “Baby, seriously? Did you buy them for me or yourself?” you cocked an eyebrow as your boyfriend's cheeks flushed.

“What a silly question,” he pulled you on top of him, “I bought them for us!”

“You read the whole book, didn't you?”

“. . .”

“Oh my god, you did.”

“. . .I will say the ending had me running to the bookstore this morning. To have the hero—” You clamped your hand over his mouth.

“No spoilers!”

#jjk x reader #jjk men #jjk suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk reader insert #jjk x you #jjk geto #reader x geto

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sweet-s0rr0w · 3 months

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The first time Harry spots his husband in another universe, he's arm in arm with Astoria Greengrass.

Read it here on AO3!

I wrote this little not-in-every-universe fic as a very late birthday gift for the lovely @sitp-recs. <3 Huge thank-yous to my fab betas @tackytigerfic, @citrusses and @maesterchill for all your help with grammar and emotional support 😂 (and also @fluxweeed for the latter)

Excerpt:

When Harry finally slips, it’s in bed. “Charlie,” he says, from nowhere, while Draco’s distracted, disoriented, chin still tingling pleasantly from the scrape of Harry’s Sunday evening stubble, propped up on his elbow and sorting roughly through the bedside drawer.

He pauses, bemused. “No,” he tells Harry, voice careful, the way he’d talk to Vince on a particularly slow day. “Not Charlie. Draco.”

Harry sighs, immediately impatient. He looses his hold on Draco’s thigh, cold air taking his place as he rolls onto his back. “For fuck’s sake, Draco. You, and Charlie bloody Weasley!”

“Sorry,” Draco says, elusive lube finally in hand as he turns to join him, “what?”

“The two of you,” Harry says, face blotchy with frustration. “Outside Gringotts, just – just the other day. You were in your work robes too, and you were holding hands, Draco, I–”

“Which one is Charlie again?” Draco interjects, trying to picture the scene.

“What?!”

“Look, Harry, you know I’m no good with faces. Must we really have the whole Weasley discussion again? Now?” asks Draco, gesturing down at his poor, neglected cock.

“Oh, for – he’s the dragon-tamer, alright?” Harry splutters, outraged. “The short one! The fit – all the – you fucking know!” he says, holding up his arm in the universal gesture for muscles, his face so perfectly cross that Draco has to press his lips together tight to push down the hysteria bubbling up inside.

“Sounds sexy,” he says instead, reaching over to run his nails through the curls of Harry’s chest hair, thumbing hopefully at a nipple. It’s no use, though. Harry’s cock, which had, just moments ago, been making an excellent showing, is now curled plump and despondent against his thigh.

“At least, in that universe,” muses Draco, wriggling down the bed undeterred, “I get one of these to play with.”

“But – Charlie Weasle–” Harry tries again, until Draco takes him into his mouth and sucks him back to hardness, decidedly not thinking about muscular ginger dragonologists.

#drarry #proves the rule #ss writes

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l0velylecter · 1 year

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say yes to me — simon ‘ghost’ riley / f!reader

— “like a barge at sea, in the storm, i stay clear.”

— 'FAITH WILL GET YOU KILLED.’ HE sounded tired, sad even. The mist was starting to crowd you from all sides. Above, snowflakes danced in the light: a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. You tentatively reached out to brush the masked cheek with your thumb, putting on your best smile even if tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

‘ Well, you've kept me safe. Haven’t you, Simon?’

summary : when his enemies used your history with simon against him, the soldier begins to reflect on your relationship, well, whatever was left of it: even after the divorce, life still finds a way to drag you back into the crossfire, back to him. pairing : simon ‘ghost’ riley / f! reader fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : m for mature and suggestive themes, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) warnings : descriptions of violence, cursing, references to past substance abuse, arguments that may be anxiety inducing to some, anger management issues from simon tags : angst, hurt and comfort, simon struggling to face his emotions, divorce, reunion after years, scenes with brief descriptions of sex in it, female parts, fab!reader, told in parts, refrences to his past from the comics, a small headcanon about his (dead) mom word count : 1.7k song used for inspiration : yes to heaven by lana del rey & my blood by ellie goulding

01 | Simon rescued you in winter. Sedated by the wind, the city's heartbeat begins to fade; the air — cold with the promise of snow. It distracted you from the fact that you were bleeding, your blouse clinging to the warm and wet wound. It also made hearing harder: past the ringing in your ears, you could hear him shouting, movements rushed as he knelt to haul your body atop his lap. The familiar string of curses erasing any suspicions of his identity.

" Simon." You rasped, smiling even if everything was hurting," My Simon."

" Keep your eyes open." He ordered, " Don't you fucking close them."

He told you to focus on something, anything to keep you awake. So you anchored yourself to how he curled his finger around your shoulders because even if his eyes were stern to save his composure, his grip says otherwise. He has always held onto you as if you were going to slip away, tightly, surely. As if Simon wanted to convince himself that you weren't a dream ready to be ripped away from him by the morning ( but maybe this was the first time he wished otherwise). He'd tap your cheek from time to time. The brief and sharp sting prying your eyes open.

Simon adjusted you across his lap, your body rocking as the helicopter landed roughly. Somewhere along the way, a confession had slipped past your mouth, "I thought...you wouldn't come."

There was a quick flash of anger across his face: fingers twitching and knees tensing beneath you.

" I won't next time."

When you woke up in a hospital bed, a nurse went to alert the doctor, the empty chair by the foot of the bed staring back at you. 02 | Simon left you in spring. He didn't visit, didn't call, didn't write. You didn't expect him to anyway, carrying on with your life as if you'd never seen him in the first place. The whole thing felt like a hallucination. Seeing Simon again felt like witnessing a premonition of a ghost who should be good as dead to you. Yet your stitches said otherwise, and so did Captain Jonathan Price, his visit an overdue prediction that came true late in May. The bouquet resting against your vase was supposedly an apology for the intrusion — " I was raised proper."

" Let me guess. Simon's angry with me."

Price lowered his cigar, mouth curling downwards, " No. Not at you."

You relaxed against the couch. You wouldn't be so careless to claim that Simon trusted him, but at the very least, you knew he respected the man. You reminisced about the first time you met Price ( even then, he had a cigar hanging from his mouth). He had hauled Ghost past your doorway: bloody, battered, and bruised. That must've been at least seven or eight years ago when you'd just started living with your husband.

Right, you swallowed, catching yourself — when he was your husband.

As if hearing your thoughts, Price sighed, " You weren't on any official records. There was no documentation, no pictures. Nothing. No one knew about you."

" And now?"

" His team suspects, but I doubt there'll be any external witnesses left to ever pull a bloody stupid stunt like that again."

You raised your brow.

" He went after everyone in that warehouse. No survivors. No witnesses."

The image of Simon covered head to toe with blood, eyes furious and lethal, flashed before your eyes. It would make sense why he wouldn't want to rescue you next time because, after his purge, you doubt there would be anyone — anything left to hurt you. He's on leave now. Simon says he wants to be thorough.

You could barely keep it together when gesturing at the flowers, " Tell him I said thank you."

Price asked how you knew it was from Simon — " The staff in the center used to teach classes on flowers. That included gardening, making bouquets, and learning meaning behind them. After...after what they did to him, he wouldn't talk for months. I guess that class was his way of trying to fill in the silence. Daffodils bloom first during spring: new beginnings, sorries. I taught him that. He used to get me them all the time.”

You shook your head, feeling helpless, “He hasn't changed." 03 | Simon’s kisses felt like summer: hot, intense, and angry — his lips burned against your skin. He crowded you against the wall of your apartment, a behemoth of a man even out of his tactical gear, leaving you with barely any space to touch him.

You whined, begging him to slow down, yet he kissed you with teeth and tongue and urgency. When he cupped your chin roughly with both hands, angling your face under the dim light from the kitchen: peeling back the silhouette to take a good look at you, flushed, panting, and crying.

He growled into your mouth, hoisting you up his waist, " You should've paid more attention. He could have fucking hurt you."

You winced, recalling the events that took place: how the midsummer heat stung your skin as you quickened your pace to get away from the man who had followed you down the block. The moment you pulled your keys out to unlock the door, he had picked up his pace, only to scram the moment Simon appeared behind you. He would have gone after the attacker if you had not gripped his arm for support, overwhelmed: your knees nearly gave out. As if possessed by an irresistible force, the sight of you weakly clinging onto him and on the brink of tears had compelled Simon to undo years of restraint — which would explain why you can taste the frustration in his mouth.

" You'll always protect me. I know it," You managed in between kisses. Briefly, you wondered how long Simon's been looking out for you. Was this what he chose to do on the rare occasions he was off the field? All those times he probably saw you on dates: trying and failing to get over him. All those times you cried about him. All those times you bought yourself daffodils.

There was something bittersweet at how he seemed to remember the way to the bedroom you used to share, legs finding their way when he was too occupied with you. And you couldn't swallow the tinge of sadness swelling in your chest when you remember every touch, from how he loves to kiss down your back to how he feels inside you; angling you in a way that hits all the right spots. He pistoned in and out of you almost brutally, your body pliant and welcoming under him, blooming at the memory. And when he inserts himself to the hilt, you moaned because you never forgot: how could you forget? It was as if time never passed between the two of you, it was natural, it was instinct, it was like coming home.

When he finally pulled out, leaving you throbbing and empty, you whispered for him to stay — fingers latching onto his when he stood up. And you scrambled to seize the moment he sat back down, breaking down against his chest, words pouring out of your mouth. I missed you. I never wanted you to leave. I still love you. I'll always love you.

He didn't need to take off the rest of his balaclava for you to know what he was thinking: I don't want to hurt you. Because I will hurt you.

You lay in the dark for a few seconds, five seconds turn to fifteen, turn to thirty, sixty. And when the first rays of sunlight came to wake you gently, Simon was gone. With the bedroom door slightly ajar, the left side of the bed was neat and spotless. Your legs — still warm and wet. 04 | Simon married you in autumn. You remembered how cold it was that day. Even inside the church, the air was frigid, yet still — the silence was only interrupted when the vicar entered. ( The church was not only for privacy, he said, but also for his late mother. Finally, it was a first and rare glimpse into his past. She was baptised here.)

You had nervously glanced at him, smiling lopsidedly with eyes bright and hopeful. Yet Simon remained passive, eyes only wavering when you started reciting their vows. It was the only time Simon had shown any real fear in front of you, and you remembered what you did that day. You had gripped his hand tightly in yours the entire time, kissing each finger before he gave you your ring.

You explained how the joy of having him carry you up the steps of your home was short-lived, washed under the reality of his pain. There was the temper, the drinking, the insults. The moment arguments got out of control and silent treatments turned too cruel — he started pushing you away, hoping to cut you off to prevent watching you fall apart himself.

"You underestimated me, Simon. That was the worst part," you finished, ending your story with a weak shrug, " I would've stayed if you had just asked me to. You know I would. I have faith in you, Simon. In us. I still do."

Outside, the shades of yellow and orange swept over the barren ground, except for a few sprouts of daffodils, stubbornly persevering through small miracles. The wind down the mountain slithered past the holes of the old wooden roof as whistles. They ring softly against the silence, echoing down the Rhenish helm. Today would have marked a decade's worth of anniversary, but now it's just become a resting ground for him to haunt — the sight of Simon without a mask, sitting by the pew and staring up at you, a memory you want to burn on the back of your head.

" Faith will get you killed," he sounded tired, sad even. The mist was starting to crowd you from all sides. Above, snowflakes danced in the light: a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. You tentatively reached out to brush the masked cheek with your thumb, putting on your best smile even if tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

" Well, you've kept me safe. Haven’t you, Simon?"

There was a pause, and you swore the wind held its breath in anticipation with you, waiting, pleading for him to agree at the chance to start again with you. Say yes to me, your fingers whispered, tentatively brushing his hand. Heavy snow is due to arrive early, marking new beginnings: the birth of a new season, the start of his deployment, but to you, a long and terrible winter just ended the moment he kissed each finger to hold your hand.

a/n : zoo wee mama, that took a toll on me. all in one sitting because i am yearning for a domestic life with this man even if i know it will not be easy. fear not simon, i might be senstive and cry the moment someone slightly raise their voice at me, but i am loyal to the bone ( and just delusional enough ). i know this leans more on the reader’s perspective and very ‘read in between the lines’ aka vague, so i hope this style is enjoyable still to read. i personally have to mark this as one of my favorite ficlets / works , cause i love seeing simon suffer. speaking about seeing simon suffer, this is dedicated to : → @flaneurpastel : your support of my angsty simon fics and my work overall in general is something i really cherish, i’ve only briefly had this account but i am so thankful for your support !! and your works are amazing... here’s to more angsty simon fics ! → @gh0stswh0re : you are the first page i follow on here and the first account to actually get my ass moving to write about cod : mw ii because your works are jiust *chef’s kiss*, and i’m so excited for your december writing plan... i’m booking front seat ! → everyone who reblogged and liked my angsty simon fics... you guys keep me going mwah x + note on timeline : → the comics talk about simon’s past, he was tortured and needed to go to rehab around 2003-2004 ish, so i assumed he spent a couple years then in therapy / rehab for substance abuse because he needed to cope, and that’s where you met him. marriage happened right after he got revenge on roba and right when he was first employed by 141 ( which probably was why it didn’t work out ) and ever since then it’s just been longing and heartache. and 2022 rolls up, which is cod : mw ii, and i assume this is probably before or after las almas and shadow company ! → feel free to adjust it if it’s better for you or correct me if i’m off or wrong !

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mounamelanoyi · 9 months

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My Go-To Jayam Ravi Simping Vids

Alright, as I promised, here it is - @balladedutempsjadis and @thirst4light, this is dedicated to you.

Yes, Jayam Ravi snatched all of our hearts in PS. This scene - god, this scene in particular - hasn't left my mind in months:

But it needs to be known that this man is not just serving looks now - in fact, he's been serving looks for basically the past 20 (!) years. So, here, I'm highlighting a few of my fav songs that I always go back to when I'm in simping mode:

Ayyo Ayyo

youtube

This movie basically put JR on the map all the way back in 2004, and the songs definitely had a large role in that. These two are both fab dancers and have such good chemistry (and I just think they both look really friggin cute in this song lol).

2. Chennai Senthamizh

youtube

Is it cheating to list two songs from the same movie? Probably. But JR and Asin's chemistry is off the charts (again), this song is one of my absolute favorites, and if you end up staring at her dancing instead, you can just put the video on loop like I do 🤗

3. Nenjil Nenjil

youtube

Harris Jayaraj ruled South Indian music for a period of my childhood - and this album is one of the prime reasons why. This song is one of my all time favs, and is also from the beginning of what i call JR's snacc era - man really chose to bulk up when he hit 30 (and you can clearly see it lol). Thee Illai from this movie is also a dream, but I like the picturization here more than that one.

4. Senthoora

youtube

This song was everywhere when it came out - the vocals are absolutely mesmerizing, but I think JR looks pretty damn fine here too lol. Also, if you're in the mood for something a little more...spicy - Vaarai Vaarai from the same movie might be worth a look hehe.

I have other recs as well, but we can leave it for now - other than one honorable mention: Azhiyilae. I just have memories of my parents throwing a pillow at my face whenever this song came on lol, so it didn't make the actual list, but this is the one romantic song that pissed JR's wife (then girlfriend) off lol, so had to include it!

youtube

Curious to hear what you guys think!!

#jayam ravi #arulmozhi #ponniyin selvan #desiblr #vanmozhi #Youtube

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doctorobrt · 1 year

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It Won't Be Long

Short story in which you and your new fiancé, William, head down to the local pub to see new bands performing!

It's the swinging sixties and as rock and roll moves aside to introduce this new genre of pop music, you and William decide to enjoy it with others joining the music scene, but it doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped for...

SFW!

Feminine reader. Mentions of smoking, William and Reader. Set in a Pub, alcohol mentioned, slight harassment from a drunk man, mentions of blood, fighting and arguing.

"We need to be leavin' in a minute love." William emphasised as he adjusted his tie. Delicately patting some English Leather Cologne onto his wrists and neck before turning on his heel to gaze at you.

"Yes I know I've just got to..." You fiddled about with your purse, digging through countless bits of rubbish you had stuffed in there prior. "Hmm, now where on earth did I put you?"

"What you lookin' for so frantically?" He chuckled, though his brows furrowed as you began searching all over the bedroom floor.

"It's my special perfume, I can't find it anywhere!" You frowned and delved under the bed, scrambling about through boxes and bags.

It wasn't any cheap spray, which is why you panicked - in fact it was a gift from William a few months back for Valentine's Day. Not that the smell was all that great. In all honesty you'd do anything in your power not to wear it, however you felt the need tonight as you were spending quality time together.

Settling himself onto the mattress, he reached across to the bedside table and picked up a small, detailed, pink bottle. He held it in front of his face for a while, examining the detailed engravings. Turning the dainty glass around, he squeezed the pump to take a sniff but instead the spray shot right into his eyes.

He dropped the bottle and flinched rather dramatically, clasping his hands over his face, trying to wipe the fragrance from his now extremely bloodshot, watering eyes.

Hearing the commotion from behind, you crawled from beneath the bed to check what on earth had happened, only to discover your oh so loved perfume smashed on the wooden floor beside you.

"William! What the bloody hell are you doing you twit?" You slapped his arm and rushed to your dressing table to touch up on your makeup, grabbing your powder puff and lightly applying a thin layer of blush. "Right lets go then, no time for cleaning your mess up!"

"No sympathy for your wounded soldier then I guess... I'm basically blinded by your cosmetics and you cant spare a minute to appreciate me!" He sighed as he emerged out of the bathroom, patting his face down with a towel.

"Oh bloody grow up you child, were going to be late because of you."

William chortled at your snarky attitude and made his way downstairs to put his gloves and jacket on, calling you as he did so.

"Grab your coat love, it's too cold without one." William insisted you wore one whenever you left the house past noon, couldn't let you catch a cold.

The walk to the town was calm and refreshing, occasional soft breezes brushed through your hair as leaves tumbled to the floor and crunched beneath your feet. You linked arms with your lover and joyfully skipped ahead, dragging him along with you.

"We're almost there Will come ooon...!" You whined and tugged at his sleeve "You're such a faff!'

Minutes later, you arrived in town - albeit out of breath. The old sign hanging above the entrance to the pub barely made out; 'COME AND SEE, NEW musicians performing, BIG new hits! For 16 and over.'

"Fab! I hope there aren't many people inside so soon.. I should find us a place to sit right away." Grinning as you gave William commands "Fetch us some drinks too..!"

Swiftly making your way over to a table with two chairs, you placed your purse to the side as you slipped out of the long coat you were forced to put on, hanging it off of the chair.

The record player in the corner of the bustling pub played soft tunes; 'That'll be the day' by Buddy Holly, 'Great balls of fire' and your personal favourite 'Rock and Roll Music' by Chuck Berry. You hummed softly to yourself as you awaited William's return.

"What's up with all of this old stuff?" He chuckled as he placed your half pint of Cola onto the placemat.

"Hm.. We got the day right didn't we?" You mumbled skeptically "The sign said so, perhaps its later on.."

"Don't stress love, if not we should have to come back another day. Unless it's your excuse to get pissed each day of the week?" He laughed to himself, earning a deathly stare and a cross of the arms from you, although it didn't take long for a suppressed cackle to escape your pursed lips.

"They seem to be setting the stage up over there." You pointed out

"Gear. Shouldn't be too long now. See? You're such a fanny."

The club was teeming with curious locals after a good half hour while the bands took their time to prepare backstage. The tables became scarce in no time which left groups of friends and families to stand in whatever space was lacking bodies.

"I'm glad we got here when we did, imagine trying to find a place to sit now!" You marvelled, peering around in the very enviable piece of furniture you were perched on. "Are you even listening to me you bloody old man?”

William hummed and took a cigarette out to light it under his cupped hand. The lighter defined the rough callouses enveloping his fingers and singed hair on the back of his hands. The job he worked was hard labour at the welders in town, it suited him quite well, however. Knowing what creations he would sketch down onto paper it wouldn't surprise you if he'd ever attempt to

"This is a drag. When the bloody hell are these bands coming out?" Slowly puffing a thick cloud of smoke to the side.

"I'm sure they'll be out soon, be patient." Sipping at the last of your drink, you pushed it to the side and took a cigarette out of your bag. "Mind lighting it?"

Despite being sat down on the short antique chair, he still managed to tower above you... significantly. His thick, brunette hair fell onto his forehead as he leant over. Tension rose as you made intense eye contact. Seated in a room full of bundling boisterous locals yet they all seemed to disappear when the two of you edged closer toward each other.

"Evening folks!"

Groans arose from the crowd as the terrible microphone let out a high-pitched squeal at an almighty volume.

"Sorry about that...!" The older, plump man on the stage apologised in a very thick southern accent as he fumbled around to move the mic further away from the speakers. "Thank you all for coming tonight, we're all very excited to see what this new musical genre or what not is all about aren't we? Its going to take a bit of work to surpass Elvis but let's give it a knock why don't we!"

William twisted back around to roll his piercing grey eyes at you

"Bloody old bugger." He grinned facetiously, taking a drag of the cigarette before blunting it into the ash tray.

The grandfather clocks hands creaked rather loudly as the band fumbled onto the stage, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with the sea of expectant guests before them. No cheering broke out as the pub waited in eager anticipation, they were patiently waiting for an introduction from the group of mop haired boys on stage.

Soon enough the pub was alive and deafening again as the group wearing very German, leather outfits continued to play through their set list.

It was a different kind of sound to the rock and roll of Elvis and Chuck Berry you were familiar with, but it was rather pleasant regardless of that. The bass and drums coincided harmoniously as the rhythm and lead guitar chimed pleasant upbeat melodies alongside each other. All members had a crack at singing on their first song, their voices occasionally melodic but for the most parts rambunctious and powerful.

The restless crowd of screaming teenage girls and women swarmed to the front of the hall trying to get their hands on the unfortunately positioned guitarists - they seemed to be considerably unperturbed, however.

It made you wonder; what would Will think if you went and joined them? Would he get jealous? Surely he would... The thoughts urged you to test the waters. It's not like he wouldn't do things on purpose to make a fool out of himself

Standing up and blowing an opaque cloud of smoke into Williams face, you blunted the cig and straightened out your deep, navy dress.

"Bastard." He spluttered as his hand waved the tobacco fumes away. "Where you trottin' off to then?"

"Getting a closer look at the golden boys on stage, I need to see what all this wailing's about."

Eyes sharp like daggers followed you to the stage from afar. It was hard not to feel them burning a hole in the back of your head, but it wasn't like you were about to neck it off with another man; so you ignored your fiancé's protective glare quite blissfully.

"Aren't they just adorable?" A brunette girl beside you had clutched both hands on her heart as if she were struck with one of Cupid's arrows.

"Oh they most certainly are.. I swear he just looked at me!" Her blonde companion squealed in response.

Oh, this was definitely not your crowd of people. The group on stage were quite cute... but nothing worth wetting your pants over - like the girl in front of you had done.

Sighing in defeat, you decided that was one too many mediocre heartthrob artists for the night; it was time to return to your seat and order a well earned shandy.

You turned on the heel of your dap and walked straight into the chest of an older man. He was relatively tall with gelled back blonde hair, a thick stubble and kind eyes.

"My apologies sir, I'm at fault for walking so aimlessly!"

The blonde man, who was made up rather well, squinted his eyes but softened his judgemental gaze in understanding soon after.

"Aye don't worry dar, I can forgive a pretty little mouse like you."

He threw his arm around your shoulder and ruffled your hair quite harshly with the other hand

"Come and grab a drink with me if you're really sorry, pet."

That was most definitely not an invite, more like a demand. Not on your cards tonight to watch a dragging band performance and then get pursued by an extremely run of the mill business man, but here you were.

"Sorry sir but I have a fiancé, I was just heading back to my table actually."

"Right, sorry love. Off on your way then." He acknowledged, reasonably put out and embarrassed. With the amount of women on the dance floor, there were plenty of fish in the sea for him no doubt.

That was a bit awkward, you thought to yourself. There was no possible outcome in which William wouldn't be amused by your appalling attempt at making him jealous.

After manoeuvring your way back to the table, you realised he wasn't sat there anymore, in his place sat a small note on a slightly screwed up tissue.

'Gone out to beer garden, too bloody busy.' Was messily scrawled out on the napkin - followed by a poor attempt at an angry face... You grabbed your coat and retired to the quieter scenery outside.

Only a few groups of people dwelled there, all distracted and minding their own business. The sharp smell of tobacco hit you in the face immediately and lingered momentarily before dispersing.

"Had a nice time in there?" William chortled "I was gonna grab you but there were far too many heads grouped together, it was like trying to find a black cat in a coal bin."

He puffed on his newly lit cig and passed it to you

"Wasn't awful, I can dig the music just not the hoard of screaming foxes that comes with."

His long arm slithered around your waist to pull you in closer, the breeze had turned raw and your exhales turned to condensation in the chilly climate.

Just as you relaxed into his hold, the man from earlier, who was now completely and utterly drunk, stumbled into the beer garden. It seemed he'd been pushed out to calm down by his friends whom were significantly more down to earth than him.

"Oh its the pretty little lady from earlier... you know she was all over me, feeling my muscles and melting into my hold. Better get her in order, mate." The drunkard sneered at you both smugly

At first, William had no explosive reaction, although he sat up and pulled away from you slightly, considering what the man told him.

"There's no way you believe what he's saying?" Your tone a mix of defence and incredulity, scoffing at his hesitation to answer, scowl returning to the other man. "Look, I honestly don't understand your problem, if I upset you then I'm terribly sorry, but please consider removing yourself before you embarrass us all."

William's eyes darted toward your figure and brows scrunched into an expression of that laced with anger, he was absolutely livid.

Standing and approaching the drunk blonde, he assertively towered above him at 6'3.

"Don't be a prick mate, go and sober up."

The height of the situation was growing tenser by the second.

You tried to split it up but to no avail, as the two stared each other down intensely.

After a minute of convincing, the pair of you decided itd be best to leave

"Can't blame me when I tried to push her away! Nothing but a little slut looking for-" he was cut off quite suddenly with a fist to his nose.

"I said sober up you prick."

Will grabbed at his collar and pushed the bleeding accuser against the fence, drawing the attention of other smokers in the garden, spitting on his shoe forcefully.

"Come on let's go."

He signalled you to grab your possessions to leave the pub.

Weaving around the countless crowds of people became overwhelming, mixed with the strong scent of tobacco and alcohol it made the exit seem much more awaited than ever.

The journey home was long and silent whilst William ambled beside you with his hands in his pockets. It was an awkward atmosphere, but that's nothing you couldn't work your way out of.

"Quite the show you put on there, love."

"Had to bring a bit of excitement, didn't I?" he sighed deeply, pulling you into a tight embrace, kissing the top of your head. "Lets get home and listen to some oldies, sound good?"

"Gear." You replied softly, as you held each other tightly. There was nothing that would top this feeling.

"Wanna get away from here?" He hummed into your hair when you arrived home "Move to America in a few years, I'd love to start a business far away from these boring ends. I know some people who are into building machines like me, it could probably go quite far. What do you think?"

"Anywhere with you sounds like heaven"

A/N: Points to anyone who knows which band I was referencing as if they weren't extremely popular... I originally wanted to make it as though you two would dance to the music but I mean. The mania girls would get when they saw boy bands wouldn't give you that time, so why not add a knobhead getting a punch in the face by yours truly... This is my first piece so please don't criticise me too much lolol. I'd appreciate feedback and requests if you feel like it! Don't hesitate I wont criticise you. Just. Obviously don't be weird..

Love youse x

#william afton x reader #william afton #fnaf x reader #fnaf fanfic #fnaf william afton #william afton x you #x reader #x you

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blood-injections · 1 year

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Got inspired by this post by @montypng to collect(infodump) all my little thoughts about the girl so here you go. Spoilers for ttlotfk comic ahead.

She’s such a tragic character to me. First of all. She has no name?? Like she lived with the Fab Four for however long and there’s no way they’d just fucking call her ‘the girl’ unless it was like. A placeholder until they found out who she is or until she chose her own killjoy name. But still theyd have a nickname for her like motorbaby which I usually have them call her in anything I write. But motorbaby is also just a general zone term so what then. Anyway I propose one of them nicknamed her Starchild or Stargirl because of how much she looked like Jet Star and it stuck.

Anyway before the Fab Four fall, despite living in what is essentially a postapocalyptic desert and definitely facing hardships she was always happy go lucky, was too young to realize how shitty life can be yet, especially because the Fab Four did their best protecting her from all the scary things. Then she was captured and the fabulous four died and it definitely all set in at once. Maybe she was confused by the concept of them being gone at first but it didn’t take long for her to feel truly scared for the first time. Scared, hopeless, lost. She didn’t know what to do without them so she ran off. And somehow she survived until the comics came around and she’s what? Sixteen? And at some point she realized that the Fab Four sacrificed themselves just for her and she feels like she doesn’t deserve it. Four lives for one? What kind of bullshit was that. From the age she was old enough to understand that she’s had that guilt and anger festering inside her and she’s hated herself while also growing to hate them for sacrificing themselves for her, while simultaneously grieving and loving and idolizing them because despite the stupid way they died they were her family.

But she’d hate herself for that and she’d hate herself for running away, both on the day they were killed- even though she was a little kid and couldn’t have done anything and would’ve died too if she fought to stay with them- and after, when they got back to the zones and she ran away from Cherri and the others that rescued her. She hates herself for abandoning them even though she didn’t really do that, they live on through her but she doesn’t accept that until long after she goes kaboom.

And that one scene in the comic, when she’s with Cherri and he’s collecting the fab four’s things, she says she can’t remember their faces anymore. She knows of her mother but the Fab Four were the only family she ever really knew, and now she’s gone and forgotten them. she can only remember whisps of them now, bloody last words, scars and hair color. She hates herself for this, too. In her mind, not only did they die for her, but she’s failed them and she’s forgotten them, she’s just a homeless nobody teen barely surviving that can’t even shoot a gun. She doesn’t know who the Fab Four are anymore and she doesn’t know who she is at all.

Then she finds a remnant of party poison, that mask, and buys it because it’s something familiar, something from them she can hang on to when she has nothing else, hardly even memories. Then Val Velocity comes along(I hate him sooo fucking much but he has so much headcanon potential it’s horrible really) and they clash from the start but they’re also one in the same, angry clueless kids that want to bring back something that died years ago. And Val is an asshole, nothing like the faint memories she has of Party Poison, and she hates him and the way he’s spitting on Poison’s legacy rubs her the wrong way because however much she agrees with him that they were stupid for sacrificing themselves for her, a nobody kid that really shouldn’t have survived this long, she wont let her family’s memory be abused like Val is doing, so she sticks around for a chance to do or say something to get him to stop. But then he also looks like Party, and his face is beginning to fill in those gaps in her memory because he has the hair and he’s wearing the mask but that will never be Poison’s face, and she hates him for that too, for beginning to taint even her own memory.

Then she finds out what she is. That she’s nothing but a weapon, that she was placed where she was on purpose and watched her whole life and that she’s not a person, not to bli. But she sees the chance she has, a chance to fix things, to finally honor that sacrifice. That’s why they did it, because of what she was, what she could do. Not four lives for one, four lives to end a war. Not that she wanted that either, she’d rather all four of them still be alive and fighting than dead and the desert have peace. But she needs to honor that sacrifice, to make it worth it, so she goes to the city to end it all. And she fully expects to die. She’s been told she’s a bomb and so she expects to explode, for her life force to somehow do something. She thinks she’s giving her life to save the world just like the Fab Four did all that time ago and she thinks that maybe she’ll get to see them again now, because she fulfilled her purpose as a bomb, as a weapon. She saved the world, she’ll get to see them and she’ll deserve to.

But then she goes off and she’s still standing. And party’s mask is back in her hands and the city is free and what now? She did what she was meant to do, what was her purpose now? She still has no family, the Fab Four are still gone, Cherri and Doctor D are gone now too and they were the closest thing she had left to family. And maybe her mother somehow returns maybe she doesn’t. Either way, for a while she’s truly and completely alone, purpose fulfilled and a little less guilt ridden, but not really.

Eventually she accepts that she’s a good thing, that nothing was her fault and there’s nothing that she doesn’t deserve, that the Fab Four didn’t give their lives to save a weapon but to save her, their kid, because whether she’d end the war or not, even if she was completely ordinary, she was their kid and they couldn’t just let bli take her. She didn’t get to choose what happened to her but they did, and they chose to give her a chance to live, something she’d never have if she stayed stuck in the city. They had already lived and loved and just wanted her to have that too, with or without them.

She accepts all that one day, but it takes a while.

#she is sooo depressed #I’ve got a fic in my drafts that deals with all of this and more #my chemical romance #danger days #ttlotfk #mcr danger days #mcr #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #the fabulous killjoys #the fabulous four #danger days headcanons #killjoy headcanons #corvidscrap #the girl posting #boomstick posting

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sitp-recs · 2 years

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Happy happy birthday @tackytigerfic!!!! After so many recs and lists it was hard to come up with an original idea to celebrate your day but I was inspired by our darling @sweet-s0rr0w’s collaborative reclists and we thought it would be fun to ask our common friends about their Tacky faves, those fics that hold a special place in their heart for personal reasons. The result is this reclist that made me tear up just thinking of how much I love each fic carefully picked, especially after reading those heartfelt and spot-on commentary. This was really fun to put together - massive thanks to Sweets for being the best partner in crime with this side project, and also to @bluebutter-art who generously let us use her stunning artwork for Take the Moon. Click here to see the full version with their fab faces!!!!

Without further ado come and feast your eyes on our short but lovely “Tacky essentials”, a collection born out of our mutual love, respect and admiration for everything they are and represent, both as an immensely talented writer who explores the wonders of ordinary life and tender romance with so much heart and sensitivity, and also as a dear, generous friend we’re all very lucky to have by our side. Thank you for your daily kindness and for always being there to soothe my exasperated rants and join my overjoyed babbling. My experience wouldn’t be the same without my taste twin, and this Liv wouldn’t be the same without your friendship and fics changing my life for the better. I hope you enjoy our humble gift! I take this chance to invite everyone who enjoys Tacky’s work to join us and add their faves as well!

Our Little Life (Mature, 7.2k) ⚔️

Sometimes Harry dreams. Only they're not really dreams at all, and Malfoy is always in them. It's time travel, but not as we know it, and Harry just needs a good night's sleep.

“This a cheeky pick because Tacky wrote it for my birthday but I still so strongly remember reading for the first time each beautiful iteration of their gravitational pull together across every time and age and just feeling like *yes*, YES, this is why I love this ship, these characters, this magnetic draw together across every barrier and boundary. And it’s so much of what makes Tacky’s writing so exceptional—it’s expansive and open-eyed, and so generous with detail and insight. It totally draws you in to every world Harry dreams of, until they feel as real to you as a reader as they do to him, and then you get the sweet ache of reality and his realisation of what he might have.”

Favorite quote: “Are you going to go?” Malfoy asked, finally, and the regret in his voice was so clear that Harry could have cried, but instead he just shook his head and kissed Malfoy on his trembling sulky mouth, and Malfoy—real Malfoy—kissed him back.*

💚 Bella | @shealwaysreads

Even the Night (Mature, 3.4k) 🚬

Featuring lots of cigarettes, a Midsummer sky, close encounters in a bath, and plenty of fireworks.

“When I think of Tacky’s writing the first things that comes to mind are beautiful prose, gorgeous, evocative imagery and character dynamics that are always so fascinating and deftly written. Even the Night has all of these things and has also been a comfort read that I come back to very often, especially when I need a good cheering up. I love how soft and dreamy the atmosphere is, and despite it only being only 3k words, the universe feels so rich and evocative all the same. I love how subtle and nuanced their characterisation here is- we feel and see so much more as this was a first person POV, and just sensing how strong their yearning for each other in Tacky’s beautiful words are just *chefs kiss*.

My favourite part is their coming together, as it was very sweet and felt very *them*. The gentleness, the vulnerability and deep care and love that they have for each other in that scene is always enough to reduce me into an emotional teary blob (but hey, who am I kidding, that’s essentially me with all of Tacky’s writing!)”

💙 Blue | @bluebutter-art

Modern Love (Explicit, 61k) 🎼

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

“Reccing this fic feels a bit like sitting down in front of an abbey full of monks and recommending they check out this hot new book called The Bible. What I mean by that is both that Modern Love is a fundamental religious text in the canon of Drarry (complete with hot priest, thanks very much Tacky) but also that I think most of us have probably read it, and to rec it in the normal sense would be very “do not cite the deep magic to me, witch” vibes. Y’all know. We’ve all inked a page of the illuminated manuscript. Gutenberg is in all of our Twitter circles, and he’s printing honey. So I’m not going to sit here and try to sell you, the reader of this rec, in the year 2022, on The Bible. Instead I’d like to talk a little bit about what this fic meant to me while reading, and what it still makes me feel, months later.

The thing about Modern Love is, reading it made me feel exactly the same way I felt the first time I heard the song Modern Love. I remember sitting in a theatre in Manhattan, way uptown, one of those theatres where everyone else is average age 97 and the snacks are old, easily digestible cookies and paper cups of water. I was seeing Frances Ha, and it was the scene where the titular Frances dances down the street to this song. I’d somehow missed that Bowie song before seeing that movie, and so the audio and visual are now impenetrably melded together in my mind so that every time I hear that song, no matter what context it’s in, I think of someone being so full of emotion and vivacity and so very alive that they can’t just walk down the street—they have to dance. They have to twirl, and throw their hands out, and leap. Reading Modern Love made me feel the same way.

Because you don’t just read a Tacky fic. I mean, fundamentally, if you want to be literal about it, of course you do. But the experience of reading a Tacky story is not as simple as being carried from one word to the next until a sentence is complete, and then a second sentence, and a third, until you have a paragraph. Reading Tacky’s words, you’re compelled to run, to jump, to twist and turn and leap and grin and devour. I keep starting this next sentence as “And watching Modern Love…” because it doesn’t feel like I read it. It feels like I watched it. It feels like I lived it, deep inside of me, and carry it with me wherever I go.

Watching/reading Modern Love… you’re in London with our lads. You’re finding a purpose, you’re discovering meaning, you’re experiencing what it is to be alive, the splendor of making mistakes and looking foolish and falling in love. You remember the joy in being steadfast and determined and then, also, soft and vulnerable, in doing things that mean something, even if no one else notices. And if that’s not worth dancing about, I don’t know what is. Much love to you Tacky. Happy birthday! You’re so special and it is truly an honor to have you writing with us. How’d we get so lucky?”

🖤 Elaine | @oknowkiss

Through the Window, Clear Skies (Mature, 1.4k) 💍

What would happen if Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy moved in together, too soon after they started kissing and then fucking and not hating each other anymore? Will Draco insist on a wine rack? Or: Domestic Drarry with a bare hint of angst.

“One of my faves of Tacky’s is Through the Window, Clear Skies. It’s in essence a love letter to Draco, and it’s both gorgeously lyrical and refreshingly plain-speaking in perfect measures. And also just fills me with so much happiness for Harry, going for what he wants despite what anyone else thinks about it, about his joy at the fact that he and Draco enjoy the same ‘nice things’ and are a little team, and just *have* each other.

And goddamn it, the smells; Tacky always takes me to a higher plane with their descriptions of smells and sensory things. And lastly, because I don’t want to rave on too much, the absolute beauty of the domestic things—vases of flowers, hanging out the bedlinen, sock-stealing. Plus ok one more thing, the end is just so exquisitely romantic with Draco’s little misunderstanding and Harry’s saving of it.”

Favourite quote: "He always had talked a lot, Harry remembered, and he said as much about himself. *I never shut up, I’m a bit much sometimes*, with that crease between his brows that showed he was cross about caring too much about it; and he said out it just like that, like it was a fact, as though it was something he’d heard from other people too many times before. But Harry had never had enough of anything, growing up, and privately he thought that *a bit much* sounded like *just right*."

💙 Maester & Commander | @maesterchill

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone (Explicit, 4.3k) 👑

Harry's getting good at slipping through the Veil. He's determined to win the war, even if means he has to raise the dead to do it. Draco just wants a stiff drink and a good night's sleep.

“Adulthood creeps up on you sometimes, and then you'll be walking down the street and you will suddenly feel something so big, as big as an army of you, and you'll get choked up like you want to cry and sit down and get picked up - but you can't, because you have to cross the street, you have to board the train, you have to get back to the dishes.

The emotional armature of this story is made of the same material as that precarious state, a gesture of solidarity with this essential human desire, which stretches across time and leaps right over maturity, to step out of the stream of fate and to be saved. This story knocks me out every time - I know it's beloved, but I guard it in my memory like some obscure independent film or the remnant of a forgotten bedtime story.”

💗 Joy | @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

And One To Play (Explicit, 21k) 🌪

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs. Can Harry stop blowing Malfoy away in time to solve the case? And will Malfoy ever stop trying to get the last word?

“And One To Play is a very special fic for me, and all you have to do is read through the first couple of paragraphs to know why. It’s chock-full of worldbuilding, gorgeous imagery, inventive plot and magic, and crackling sexual tension and push-pull.

The main reason I love it so, however, is because this is the fic that got me out of my lurker status and made me brave enough to message someone in Drarry for the very first time. I didn’t know it then, but this fic brought me to a dear, very special friend who means so, so much to me, and has only meant more as we’ve gotten to know each other. Thank you for writing this and everything else you’ve gifted fandom with, Tacky. I am very lucky to know you.”

💜 Mostly Bones | @bonesliketambourines

Dad Draco!Verse: Semiplume | Far Side | Take the Moon 🛒

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. This isn't the story of the marriage. This is the story of two hurt and damaged men who learned how hard they could work for the sake of love.

“I might be cheating here but it was impossible to choose and Tacky knows all about my theory that these three stories belong to dad!Draco & wolf!Harry verse so this felt appropriate. For someone who never cared for kid fic the fact that I keep coming back to these for comfort is kind of a big deal. No one writes adult romance like Tacky, and these gems showcase their exceptional understanding and exploration of tenderness, longing, devotion and intimacy in ways that make me choke with family feels. It’s such a privilege to watch this Harry and Draco, who love Scorpius - and by extension each other - so very much, learn how to love themselves as well.

I embrace this warm and delicate universe in hopes to find some magic in the small joys of their ordinary life together; and every time Harry learns how to ask for, to have - and hold - nice things a piece of my heart clicks back into place. I see so much of myself, and of people I love - Tacky among them - in these stories, the mark they left within will never fade. And because I’m nothing but a sentimental fool, a while ago I asked Joy to illustrate Tacky’s dad Draco, who’s so close to my heart. You can check his magnificent art here. Thank you T for allowing me to experience such sweet devastation, and for showing me new ways of falling in love with these two flawed and fascinating characters, over and over again.”

Favorite quote: “I dunno,” Harry said indistinctly, mouth full, eyes bright with mischief. He swallowed, smiled. “It felt like you were mating me pretty hard last night.” (From Semiplume)

💜 Livvy | sitp

The Last Star Falling (Mature, 1.4k) ☀️

A destination wedding, an afterparty, and an unexpected guest. Seamus is getting married, Portugal is hot, and Ron has nowhere to stay for the night.

“The Last Star Falling was not written for me, but it may as well have been. A perfect bite-sized feast, incredibly sexy in the most subtle way, guaranteed to leave you convinced you’ve just come back from the beach and a long night of wine and dancing with your oldest friends. Let me fall into it face-first and open-mouthed. Delicious!”

❤️ Rosie Josephine Flower | @moonflower-rose

Between the Power Lines (Mature, 3.2k) 🌵

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy. Or: this is not an AU! It's just Harry and Draco meeting by chance in an imported food shop in Connecticut and going on a road trip together. Featuring motels, cacti, Americana, and a hefty dose of pining.

“I often find myself moved by whatever writing Tacky shares, long or short, snippet or a full piece. They tell stories that are full of heart, obvious in every word and line and phrase. When I ready Tacky's writing, I see complicated, messy people who get to love and be loved anyway -- that's what keeps me coming back for more of their words every time. I remember reading Between the Power Lines for the first time. I think I got to the end and realized I'd been holding my breath.

I so rarely visualize books as I ready, but this fic's cinematic sensuality brought me along for the ride -- I couldn't put it down, couldn't stop feeling and seeing what Harry and Draco felt. I love the road trip setting because it let us see Draco and Harry moving around each other, readjusting, as the setting around them did the same. If you haven't yet had a chance to read this one, here's your sign to do so. And thank you, Tacky dear, for taking us along for the ride too.”

💛 Starry | @the-starryknight

Offer Up Our Hearts (Mature, 24k) 🧚

Harry Potter has a very nice life, thank you very much. He's a top Curse-Breaker with a lucrative Ministry contract, and exciting prospects ahead. Sometimes he does wish that he had time to pursue something official with Draco Malfoy - they're half in love with each other, after all, and a great team (in and out of bed), though Draco is still one of the most infuriating people he knows. Join Malfoy and Potter in a daring tale of espionage, politics, intrigue, and frog-hunting!

“Honestly I could have chosen any one of about twenty fics for this rec, but ~~since I’m not a dirty cheat like Liv~~ I did eventually manage to settle on just the one! Offer Up Our Hearts was the first Tacky fic I ever read, and it instantly became an all-time favourite for me, combining first-class worldbuilding and a truly unique plot with a Harry who feels very true to canon – brave, headstrong, kind – perfectly matched by this Draco who’s confident and capable in his role as Ministry diplomat.

The majority of Offer Up Our Hearts is set in the underground Sidhe fairy realm – described by Tacky so vividly that you’ll feel like you’re there, frog hunting with Draco or sitting down for a feast – with our boys starting the fic in an undefined (but still very romantic) sort-of-relationship. They’re clearly head-over-heels gone for one another but not quite ready to admit it – that is, until a gorgeous fairy prince with eyes for Draco enters the picture. Jealous Harry is a delicious Tacky trademark, and this fic definitely does not disappoint on that front! Offer Up is the perfect fic for you if you’re looking for a fast-paced, fun, romantic read from one of the best Drarry writers out there ❤️”

🧡 Sweets | @sweet-s0rr0w

Countdown to a Life (Explicit, 3.4k) 🎄

A balcony, first kisses, December to December. A little story of building up a life together.

“Tacky's Draco and Harry always seem familiar and dear, but especially in this fic. It has all the warmth, romance, and atmosphere Tacky always writes with. They take a deceptively simple structure and a straightforward premise and give it such vividness, such verve. I've read this fic over and over; I love sinking into Countdown to a Life and feeling their prose wash over me.”

💙 Tee | @skeptiquewrites

#happy bday 🐯#collaborative reclist #💜🧡💙💛💗💚🖤❤️

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