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astraariel · 1 year

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scarlett love

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: you forgot him, chose to let Sanji go, but was that enough? would the universe leave you alone and let you live in peace?

word count: 4.1K

warnings: cursing; spoilers (?) just mention of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: angst; fluff; hanahaki disease; modern!au; reconciliation; second chances; unrequited turned requited; slight self-hate; happy endings

author’s note: okkkkay here it is. so many of you guys asked for it so here’s pt 2 to eternal snow! I initially wanted to post the mihawk fic first that i'm working on but I can’t finish writing it for the life of me so I decided to work on this one instead lol.

like I mentioned before, this is part 2 to this fic so obvi read that before you read this one!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

They say people who have the surgery are doomed for life.

How could they choose to never love again; how could they deliberately go through with the surgery knowing they would never have those emotions again?

But in actuality, it was the choice of forgetting about that love.

People don’t know the grievances and the strength it takes to choose to forget the love of your life. They don’t know the despair of being in love with someone wholeheartedly knowing they don’t love you back.

That you would never remember those emotions for whom you loved.

You saw it as this: if you couldn’t live to love your person, you wouldn’t bear to love at all.

So in that way, you won.

You gained the power to no longer grieve for your love because you simply couldn’t remember him.

Since hanahaki disease was rare, there weren’t too many recovery patients to base knowledge on since many of the victims chose to die rather than to be saved.

So you were honestly going in blind.

Nami would sometimes ask you if you could remember anything, a nervous look on her face, you knew she remembered your past love, but the doctor had told her to not mention anything to you in your recovery period. You think she asked out of curiosity.

Or maybe fear?

But every time you’d just tell her that you couldn’t, your head would hurt if you thought too hard and too long about who you had lost.

If you could remember specific memories, they weren't fully visualized, they were static, like when an old TV was out of range from the signal and would struggle to picture the channel.

All you could remember was his silhouette, his figure blurry and his name was always on the tip of your tongue but you could never place your finger on it.

You remember during your first check-up, the doctor had asked you if you could describe your past love,

“I'm not sure.”

Your voice had been wobbly like you were on the verge of crying. Tears had pricked your eyes, along with the feeling of not being able to breathe even though those damn flowers were gone.

Not being able to understand why?

That feeling went away a week later.

You laugh at yourself now, chiding yourself for being ridiculous back then.

At what point could you have allowed yourself to be so deeply in love with someone that it was killing you? You could never understand.

It was an absurd, abysmal idea that you had ever gotten to that point.

While the doctor said the following months would be difficult getting used to your new life of having one less emotion, you were fine.

It had helped that Nami had stayed by your side, and when she couldn’t Sanji would.

Sanji was an angel.

He tended to your every need, always made sure you didn’t lift a finger even after you told him multiple times you could do it yourself.

But he always reassured you he didn’t mind.

You were sad to hear that he stopped seeing Pudding. It was honestly too bad because she was good for him, he deserves someone who can love and care for him just as much as he cares for others.

Nevertheless, you were glad he was here for you.

The sound of music playing softly in the background comforts you as you shuffle through your kitchen making dinner.

You and Sanji have recently started having weekly dinners with each other, an idea he came up with.

“We can update each other about our lives, good ole fashion face-to-face interaction.”

“I don’t think my life is going to change too much in the week we don’t see each other, Sanji”

The sound of the door ringing pulls you from your thoughts, drying your hands with a towel, you walk over to the front door.

The cool November breeze greets you as soon as you open the door, Sanji’s figure fills your view.

The coat he’s wearing to protect himself from the wind encapsulates him in a way that makes you smile instinctively, you can see his red ears peeking from under his blond hair.

“Come in, come in, I was just finishing up dinner.”

“Oh, can I help you with anything else?” he offers while shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door. “Or are you not allowing me into your kitchen again?” he smirks toward you.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “It’s my turn to make dinner, you cook for a living, it's my time to shine now, dude.” He chuckles and begins to set the table for the two of you.

The warm food fills the plate in your hand, placing it on the counter, you grab another plate. “So, how’s work?”

Sanji grabs both of the plates and brings them to the table, setting them down, he looks back at you. “Ah, the old man’s got me working late most days.”

You smile softly at the scene; since you can remember you and Sanji have been able to work in tandem. Back when Nami first introduced you, it was like a pull connecting the two of you, also guiding and leading the two of you in perfect harmony.

It was nice.

Finishing your dinner, Sanji grabs his cup, “That was delicious, thank you.”

“Well I did have a decent teacher,” you say into the glass smiling, gulping down the liquid you set it back down and look at Sanji.

He goes to say something before he’s interrupted by a cough.

Sanji turns his head and coughs into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he quickly wipes his mouth before looking back at you, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking your head in acknowledgement you begin cleaning up the dinner table.

“Oh I forgot, I bought flowers, they’re in the living room let me grab them real quick.” Sanji stands quickly.

Turning, you watch him walk away, not catching the lone petal falling out of his pocket.

♡‧₊˚

Vinsmoke Sanji has done a lot of things.

Some of which he regrets, but others he stands by, but there was one that met both criteria.

And that was you.

He was glad he met you, that he was able to spend time being with you, loving you, and knowing that you loved him back.

But he regrets hurting you. He regrets letting himself be temporarily infatuated with Pudding. Sanji had laughed in the face of fate, and in return, he got what he deserved.

His impending end.

The petals had shown up the day you went into the hospital.

While you were given a second chance at life, Sanji had just signed his away.

He remembers the memory of Nami telling him what had happened. He had it permanently seared into his brain, never allowing himself to forget the moment.

Her eyes were red, face hot with anger when she pulled up to his house.

“You absolute idiot.” He hadn’t even fully opened the door before she was swearing at him, cursing him to the ends of the earth over what he had done. “You did this. You caused that pain…if I hadn't found her…,” her hands had started punching his chest.

“She would have been gone, all because of you.”

A part of Sanji died that day.

So when he got the same disease you had, he knew he deserved it.

Wasn’t it only right that he got the same death sentence that almost took you away?

It was slow at first, from what Nami had told him about your situation, Sanji knew this was how it started.

The first few weeks were bearable, he could go about his daily life without causing any suspicion. No one would ask if he was okay or anything, just simply being able to cough into a tissue and discard it quickly.

Then the blossoms came.

After one terrible night of constantly coughing up blood and flower blossoms, Sanji did some research. He knew the full blooms were next along with the finishing blow of the roots. It had only been a month since you had your surgery, and yet his hanahaki was a lot more accelerated in comparison to yours.

A month since he had realized he was deathly in love with you.

But he could bear this burden. Who was he to complain about his death trickling closer than it normally should?

Sanji remembered the moment he realized his disease would finish him more swiftly, that he was faster along than he typically should be; whether it was because the universe knew you could never love him back or it was simply his punishment for what he did.

Probably both.

Even though he knew he could easily fix the problem, he didn't have the right to get a second chance.

How could he?

How long did you spend hiding your condition away, not even when he had broken things off, before then? How long were you hurting because you knew he was lying when he said he loved you?

The gall he would have to have to go through with the surgery?

Absolutely not.

But deep in his heart, he also couldn’t bring himself to forget you. He’d rather be a coward and a liar than choose a life undeserving of him.

He would rather die than forget you, to never be able to love you again would be death itself.

He hated himself for what he did to you. The insolence he had to hurt someone as caring as you, why did he take advantage of that?

He himself every day.

If he had to live with constantly coughing up blood and bending over the toilet puking up flower petals just for you to live your life? Yeah, he could do that. He could live with the pain of knowing that you would never love him back.

That you could never love him back.

It quite literally was in human nature that he would never be saved unless he did the surgery, since you couldn’t even love anyone anymore.

Sanji’s hand lifts his handkerchief up to his mouth, his body heaving with a hard cough of petals.

He sighs.

♡‧₊˚

The TV light shines on both you and Sanji’s forms as the movie comes to an end, the ending credits miniaturizing as the screen recommends a shitty Christmas movie that has the both of you turning to the other.

“That was an unnecessarily long movie.” Sanji’s comment makes you laugh.

“Right? God, it was dragging on for a really long time.” Shaking his head he stands up to place the popcorn bucket on the kitchen counter.

You follow him holding the cups that held lemonade two hours ago. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably, oh wait-I bought something for you, meant to give it to you when we had dinner at your place but I forgot.” Sanji’s voice trails as he goes off to his bedroom.

You stand there for a couple of minutes before checking the time, “Yo, Sanji, did’ya get lost?” laughing to yourself, you walk over into the bedroom. Your eyes immediately meet Sanji’s form hunched over on the ground.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to him. “Sanji, oh god, are you okay what’s wrong-”

You cut yourself off when you bend down to look at him, there you see a pool of blood on the hardwood floor, petals scattered around the scene with a full flower bloom sitting in his hands.

“What?” you can’t breathe.

Sanji says your name but you don’t hear him, your brows knit together as you look up at him. “I don’t understand why are you coughing up petals?”

No? This couldn’t be happening.

Your heart breaks.

Who did Sanji love so dearly that he was cursed with the same disease that had you in its chokehold not long ago?

You would never wish this on anyone, no one deserved to live through the hurt of having unrequited love.

“You weren’t,” he wipes his mouth, “you weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I don’t-why wouldn't you want to tell me? If anything, I’d be the only person able to understand. Sanji, who is it?” your eyes scan his face.

Sanji’s ragged breathing fills the air between the two of you. “I can’t.”

You furrow your brows even more, shaking your head. “Please just tell me so I can help-”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean, I can’t? You’re not making sense.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “It’s you.”

You stop breathing, the figure in your memory rushes to the forefront of your brain like a tsunami.

In the past the figure was always blurry, never in frame in your mind, only being able to trace his silhouette, but now it was different.

It was like he was right in front of you like you could smell him, feel his hands in yours, his warmth. Feel his lips against your lips when he-

“It was you.” your voice was quiet, “You were the one I loved.”

His eyes snap at yours, a gasp falling from his lips.

“The person I loved so deeply… that it caused me so much pain.”

And there it was, the fog had been lifted.

“How could I have forgotten?” How ironic the entire thing was.

“Why would I ever forget about my love for you, Sanji?” you look at him, “What grief did you cause me?”

A tidal wave of emotions, affections, all poured out of your soul and into your memories. The months of coughing up petal after petal till they turned to full flower blooms. The fear that a root would pop up once you pulled your tissue from your face.

The pain and the hurt that Sanji had caused you.

The pain of knowing that he didn't love you anymore.

It all came rushing back.

“Why would you keep this from me?” you were getting angry, but was it for the right reason?

Hadn’t you done the same with him? Hadn’t you kept it from all the people you loved as well?

“You know why I went through with the surgery? It wasn’t Nami who made me, well not partially, but why I allowed myself to let her drive me to the hospital was because I didn't want you to suffer.” your eyes were burning, the tears threatening to fall.

“I don't understand?” Of course, he wouldn’t.

“You were obviously unhappy, Sanji. If I removed myself from the equation, it would solve everything and at…at first I thought dying was the solution I really did.” your eyes drop, “And maybe Nami finding me was a saving grace but, I originally wasn't gonna do anything.”

“Week after week, Sanji, I was drowning. I wanted to yell at anyone who would listen and ask why I couldn't have anything, why couldn’t I be happy? That the universe had some sort of fucking vendetta against me.”

“So I decided to let you go, to choose to live a life of unknown heartache, and when I finally thought I had accomplished that. The universe just spits in my face by cursing you.”

“Don’t you see it? We don’t belong together, Sanji.” The anger was gone now, all that was left was emptiness.“We have the signs, we need to heed them and move on.”

Sanji says your name with a plea, but you ignore him. “Just get the surgery, stop hurting the both of us.”

“It does us no good if you're dead.” And with that, you walk out of the bedroom and out the front door.

♡‧₊˚

The quiet murmurs of the newscaster talking about the weather for the week could barely be heard from the running water you were using to wash the dishes.

You haven't seen Sanji in a couple of weeks, not since he announced that you were the one whom he was in love with.

And definitely not since you remembered he was the one whom you had loved before.

And while at first, you were angry. Angry at him for lying and keeping such vital information from you.

It later turned to guilt.

Guilt for getting angry at him. Guilt for causing him pain.

But it wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you chose not to love him, you physically couldn’t anymore. You signed that ability off months ago.

But you also missed him. Since you weren’t talking to him, you weren’t having your weekly dinners or your impromptu movie nights anymore.

You missed just talking to him. You missed the lame jokes he’d tell in hopes of hearing your laugh, that smile he’d get whenever he spoke about a new recipe.

You missed him.

But you were also confused.

After he had revealed that he loved you and you had remembered that your past love was him, it became too much for you to handle.

Glancing at the moon, you dry your hands on a towel and walk into the living room. The weatherman was currently informing you of a chance of rain tomorrow during the already cold late January weather.

Sighing you go to sit down before something catches your eyes. A picture frame that hangs on your wall glints as you walk toward it.

It was a photo of you and Sanji looking at the camera with wide smiles on display from Sanji’s birthday two years prior. On top of your heads sat a birthday hat colored blue for the sea theme your friends had thrown together as a joke for the blonde that year.

You remember how you felt that day, the anxiety of wanting to get Sanji the perfect gift and when he finally opened it, he had hugged you which had you blushing like crazy while you swatted his “thank yous” away.

God, where did this deja vu come from?

It was weird, you weren't sure what it was.

It felt like your entire being was full. Full of intense and overwhelming emotions, an emotion you shouldn't feel. An emotion that was eradicated from your life when you stepped out of that hospital.

But here it was, rearing its big ugly face once again.

For Sanji.

You stumble back as if you had been shocked with electricity.

Looking around your apartment you close your eyes.

How could this happen? Why were you still being punished again?

You had endured the pain, chose to get rid of it and now you’ve been having to live with knowing that Sanji also was experiencing the exact same pain.

Sanji.

How could you have been so cold? Telling him to do the surgery? What was wrong with you?

You missed him. You missed your love for him. The feelings you’d get when he’d look your way. Sanji was your ambrosia and you needed him to survive.

But you didn’t miss how you felt when he chose another over you. Those feelings you wished you hadn’t remembered.

You weren't sure how you were still able to feel Sanji's love. But here you were.

An anomaly that you were.

Guess that shows how deep your love truly was rooted.

How could you have allowed yourself to forget?

The drive to Sanji’s apartment was quiet, opting to not play music or turn the radio on so that you could think clearly with your new (re) developed emotions.

Pulling up to the driveway, you step out of your car. The jacket you have on trapping your heat from the cold winds of the night.

The few steps to the front door felt like a lifetime. The moonlight provided a little comfort to your restless self.

Exhaling, you bring your hand to knock at the door, a small part of you hoping Sanji wasn’t home so you could go home and pretend like nothing happened.

The door swings open revealing Sanji. His eyes were wide like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey…can I come in?” you look up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah come in.” Sending him a quick smile you walk past him and into the living room.

He shuts the door and faces you, you turn and finally get a good look at him in the light.

He looked worse for wear, his eyes had bags under them, a sign he hadn’t been sleeping if at all. Whether that was because of your argument or his condition, you didn't know. One hand was in his pocket and the other was fiddling with his handkerchief.

“How are you…” signaling your hand at him, “I mean physically, how are you? What stage?”

He looks away, “well…I’m still living,” he chuckles quietly.

You sigh.

God the two of you were truly messed up.

“It all came back.”

“What?” he questions.

Your eyes begin to glaze over, “My memories, everything.” you wet your lips, “All of it, Sanji.”

“It just-all came back…on top of our argument, of you telling me you loved me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “Of how I felt when you were-when you were with Pudding.”

He says your name.

“And I hated it, I hated remembering how I felt, Sanji. I remember pitying myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why you hadn’t loved me anymore,” he says your name again, “but I also remembered how I felt loving you.” you look up at him with your tear-streaked face.

“And I will never regret loving you, not then, definitely not now. I also don’t regret forgetting, because I understand why I did it. I loved you enough to be able to let you go. To be able to know you’ll live your life happily, whether that’s with me or someone else. I didn’t care. Just that you were happy.”

“But I wasn’t-”

You cut him off, “I knew you didn't love me how I loved you, but I still knew you cared. So if I had died, even from death, I would have hated myself for hurting you. So I chose to forget.” you wipe your cheek, “I just wish you had never gotten that godforsaken thing as well.”

“Sanji I…I love you wholeheartedly. You encompass my entire existence. I live for you. Even now, when I didn't remember how I felt for you. It was there. My love for you was still inside. And it always will be. I think even if you hadn’t told me you loved me now, I would have remembered anyway. Simply because that’s who I am, I am my love for you, you consume my entire soul.” You probably looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” Did you say that out loud?

You smile softly, “So when you admitted that you loved me, that I was inadvertently hurting you, I couldn’t take it. I had been the monster I sought to eliminate. So I pushed you away.” you sigh, “I pushed you away because I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I was selfish if you had just done the surgery, I'd be able to forget about this again and you wouldn't even remember.” you walk toward Sanji. “I’ve learned that I can’t run away from you anymore. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you again.”

“So let me save you.”

Sanji’s face was red, his eyes were blurry with tears, his fist clenching his handkerchief filled with petals and blooms.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji’s voice trembles, “I am so sorry, I caused you so much pain, if I could take it back I would. And I don’t even deserve you, I’m not worthy of your love, but if you allow me, let me make it up.”

You close the gap between the two of you and pull his lips toward your own. They’re slightly chapped and both of your guy’s faces are wet but you don’t care. You feel his fingers carding through your hair, pulling you deeper.

This kiss was different from any others before, this one was filled with desire and want but it was also filled with joy and love.

You were finally happy.

You pull away first, breathing heavily and your face flushed, “You already are.”

“I love you so much, please never forget.” you wipe a stray tear, cradling his face.

You want to commit this memory in your brain. No more forgetting, no more letting go. To make sure that for the night, no cough was to be heard, no petal was to be hidden,

just two lovers finally with one another, forever.

#astraariel♡#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

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autisticandroids · 20 days

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free space: medium-sized destiel

so in my reclists for @spnficrecfest i haven't been including many fics that are very "big destiel."

this is partly because i've been trying to keep the kudos count lower (though obviously this hasn't been absolute), and also because i actively did not include any "post empty destiel fix it" type fics in the dabb era reclist because they're kind of a genre unto themselves. nor have i intentionally made space in other reclists for fics that have a particular destiel romance novel vibe. obviously there's some, but those tend to dominate reclists, and i wanted to highlight smaller fics.

so this is my "big destiel" reclist, except i still did not include anything that had >2k kudos, because those are generally speaking pretty well known already.

some of these fics are small and just have the big destiel vibes, but a lot of them are more in the 1k kudos range than the hundred kudos range, on account of being big, or medium-sized, destiel.

in order of word count:

ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? by everytuesday, 1k

a couple of takes on the confession scene. very special to me.

rot and grace by extemporaneous, 3k, violence warning

cas watches dean murder the world. corruption kink.

some dying star looks dull in the light by sp8ce, 4k

heaven angst with a happy ending, post-empty.

one step closer by rhinestoneangels, 4k

an empty rescue. i love the empty geography in this one.

i didn't feel it on the first day, and now i got it in the worst way by wintertree, 6k

meg pov on a post-widower arc destiel.

the doorway to a thousand churches by sonatine, 6k

cas and the deans from goodbye stranger.

if you try sometimes, well you just might find by jenthesweetie, 9k

cas pov on dean's wants.

godot ain't got nothing on me and my baby by ilovehowyouletmefall, 10k

post empty, cas became death. the only way dean could see him is by dying.

before and after breakfast by spocklee, 10k

a silly little case where cas and dean realize how they see each other.

solitudes by ilovehowyouletmefall, 21k

cas sees dean see cas die. a wonderful little melodrama. i actually really liked how it handled dean's alcoholism (not really as something to be solved but just as a... reality to be dealt with) and i'm OBSESSED with the director's commentary. if this had been published in 2021 instead of 2023, every heller would have read it three times over.

powerless in dreams by calicoyak, 24k

a post-empty fic. i really liked some of the cas stuff in this one.

between a rock and a hard place by amidsizefrog, 24k

dean's dick doesn't work. also cas is dead. maybe the two are related.

every single thing by thestoryinsideme, 37k

a charming and goofy season nine fic. dean is a shitty little man in a very canonical way that is also deeply sweet and adorable.

a light above descending by hedderstheowl, 38k

a mark of cain fic with chefkiss angel stuff. a recent favorite of mine. really put this author on the map for me.

with understanding by apokteino, 427k, chose not to warn and noncon warning

yeah it's with understanding. you've heard of it. go read it now chop chop.

and if your wondering which fics (that you've probably read) got the axe for having too many kudos: it was on labor, the bee movie fic, time has come today, and r/supernatural. that's my taste. if you were curious.

#spn #spnficrecfest

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gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind · 1 year

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It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!

Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!

Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???

It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!

Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."

Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.

#dc comics #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #anti jason todd #anti tim drake #anti batfamily fans #fanon bullshit #bat fans suck #i hate this place!!!#cant read anything!!!#bruce wayne #my posts

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stationintern · 5 months

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Hello my friends! I am late, but we won't mention it. April was a very busy month, but I managed to read way more than I've been able to the last few months, so I have a good selection for you. There's a couple rereads, a couple fics I put off reading for far too long, and a few that I found at the perfect time and devoured on sight.

Let's go!

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites for H/D Bodice Ripper Fest 2022 M, 14.8k

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?

I read this fic about a year ago, and I am so glad that I chose to revisit it this month. It is just so, so good. Endlessly hilarious, with a solid plot that is resolved neatly in 14 thousand words. I really love Harry here. His letters are so adorable. This aspect comes in later in this list as well, but I love when Draco is kind of a mysterious figure for a good chunk of a fic. The wondering, the anticipation. What kind of Draco will we meet this time? It's all very delicious.

Seeker's High by @corvuscrowned M, 40k

Harry Potter doesn’t expect to take up running years after the war ends; it just sort of happens. He also doesn’t expect that — as he fights tooth and nail to climb out of a post-war depression he didn’t realize he’d fallen into — he’ll end up running right into the arms of Draco Malfoy. A half angsty drama, half romcom of Harry working on himself, learning how to accept help from his friends, and falling in love with his childhood nemesis.

Another reread. This is one of those fics I've found myself periodically thinking about, mostly because it just feels so right. Harry's characterization in this is fascinating, and I really enjoyed watching his slow evolution as his relationships grow, both with running and with Draco. A unique premise that I really enjoyed and know I will revisit again.

Turn by Saras_Girl E, 306k

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Okay, so, I'm not even gonna say anything. I put off reading this for way too long, and not knowing a single thing about this fic was probably the reason I devoured every chapter the way I did. Just know I was clawing at the walls.

Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu E, 75.3k

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

Oh my fucking god. I have never in my life laughed out loud this many times while reading a fic. Truly, two dumb, horny assholes just trying to crack the case. But, behind all the side-splitting humor (and searingly hot sex) is a deep understanding of both characters that shines through and makes every moment hit so much harder. As in, they would fucking say that. Every single follow-up in the series is a banger, too. Thanks to @tackytigerfic for pointing those out to me!

Make This Leap by @oflights M, 118k

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

I relived four years of my life reading this fic. Both the good and the bad. Truly, a wonderful portrayal of the epic highs and lows of restaurant work. From personal drama to work-related catastrophes, this fic has it all. Like I said before, I love having to wait a bit to see Draco. I love hearing about him through the grapevine. I had so much fun reading this, and it was a treat to see these characters in an environment that I hadn't really envisioned them in before. Lovable (and punchable) side characters, a very stressed out Harry Potter, and a solid amount of health code infractions. Amazing.

See you at the end of May! xx, Moon.

#drarry #draco x harry #drarry fic rec #drarry fic #moon's monthly recs

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frownyalfred · 1 month

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20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @lurkinglurkerwholurks

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 146! It would be a larger number if I hadn't deleted all of my Supernatural fics back in the day. There were at least 30 of those, maybe more...

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

913,163 - I'm hoping to hit a million soon!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Batman, Superman, Justice League, Star Wars, Marvel

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Take Care of Business Everybody Wants You It Was Always You a sky of honey Anything Like Me

5. Do you respond to comments?

Not anymore :/ I have a really hard time keeping up with writing if I'm responding to comments. I hope my readers understand.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably lonely town? Dick is getting de-fibbed in the alley by Bruce, and it's not clear if he's going to survive or not.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

here as I am is hilarious if you're into jealous!Clark. otherwise the weight (salmon ladder fic) always gets me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yep. Mostly on borderline, but on other fics too. I love how, as I've gotten better at writing, it's changed from "wow this sucks, your writing is awful" to "you suck because you chose to have [character] do this." Luckily I think most of the hate filters over here to Tumblr, where I can happily block and forget. These days, I mostly get people commenting about how I'm wrong about something. Wrong about something I researched and triple checked before posting...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! All of them, I think? At least, I haven't balked at much yet. I'm not really into the excrement related ones, so I think that would be one of my no-go's.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yep! bloodletting (Mandalorian/Star Wars and DC Crossover) and a few Marvel/DC crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, a few times. What I'm more pissed about is all of my textposts being monetized over on TikTok and IG. I could be making bank off of those, considering the reach. And several of them are basically mini-fics.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Tons. Check them out here. There's also some podfics and related works there.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. I've made attempts but I'm really bad at it. I tend to write spur of the moment and follow my gut on where the conversation/action goes. Planning out a fic with a partner would do them a disservice, I think.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I really love Superbat, but Codywan is right up there with it. Something about Cody being a loyal BAMF soldier and long-suffering big brother gets me.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

My vampire AU. Not because I don't want to continue but I cannot decipher my notes as to what should happen next.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm very quick, I can type up a full draft in a few hours. I like natural, snappy dialogue and I think I'm good at it. I don't shy away from weird or uncomfortable situations. I'm comfortable with writing a lot of sex/etc.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too quickly, sometimes I get ahead of my plot. My dialogue and descriptions can sometimes be a little too bare, or I overcorrect and become too flowery. My fics take on the tone of whatever I'm thinking about at that time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If you're confident in your language abilities, go for it. If you're just plugging it into google translate, consider why you're doing that first. Is the addition of this new language actually something someone would say in that moment? Or are we just using it to signal to the audience that they speak another language? Is there a way to show this without telling? That being said, I love using Mando'a in my Star Wars fic, and I've studied it for a while now to be able to do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Probably borderline or a sky of honey. Both took a ton out of me and I'm proud they're whole and standing on their own right now.

---

I'll tag anyone who wants to play! Go wild.

#ask game #fic game #writing #fic #myfic #theresurrectionist

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celestialsister0918 · 9 months

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Fireside: A Sirius Black Christmas Oneshot

Happy holidays, loves! Here is a gift for my Sirius Black friends. Tumblr exclusive for now, probably cross-posted to my AO3 and Wattpad eventually.

A few warnings— it’s EXPLICIT smut. 18+ interaction only, please.

It’s a Sirius x You (fem-reader) fic, but you have a House. It was necessary for the plot. Hopefully you are House-flexible or can be for the next 6k+ words.

Get warm and cozy and enjoy… and please let me know what you think… reblogs are much appreciated, as are likes and comments. I love chatting with readers and fellow Sirius lovers.

You stood at the doorway to Number Twelve with your heart beating wildly against your chest. Harry and the other students had left for second term just a few short hours ago, with the Weasleys close behind. They were giving Arthur the chance to continue his recovery at the Burrow, hoping to speed his efforts with the comforts of home rather than the sullen, dreary darkness of Grimmauld Place. At least that’s what you’d overheard in their whispers after last night’s dinner, which had followed the last meeting of the Order for the year.

The whispers, of course, were for the benefit of the one inhabitant of the house who wasn’t granted the choice of leaving. No matter how dark and dreary, no matter how much his spirits needed lifting. And they certainly seemed to need lifting last night. As soon as the meeting had adjourned, Sirius Black retreated upstairs with nary a goodbye. Harry had seemed disappointed at this. It was only natural he’d want to soak up every minute possible with his godfather before returning to Hogwarts. But Black had fallen prey to another “fit of the sullens,” as Molly liked to label them with a disapproving shake of her head.

You understood those types of fits all too well, having suffered your own tragedies throughout the Wizarding Wars, as well as typical adolescent heartaches and disappointments that seemed to continue into your early adult years too. Maybe you simply took things too seriously. Life just seemed to come easy to more carefree witches and the wizards that worshiped them. You’d heard stories that Sirius Black himself used to fall into that lighthearted, devil-may-care category many years ago. But he’d experienced unimaginable darkness, and you knew the last thing he needed was to hide away alone, even if he fought you tooth and nail over it.

With a sharp intake of breath, you broke through the warded door with charms meant only for official gatherings of the Order. You prayed to the gods that there wasn’t some terrible punishment for doing so. You sighed with relief when you were greeted only by the eerie silence of cold, dark air— which was a sound unto itself, strange as that seemed. The familiar dank smell filled your nostrils, but it didn’t bother you. It simply set the ambience of a home filled with magic and mystery and stories, dreaded though some of them may be. The walls were alive with history, and there was something intriguingly romantic about the place, if you were honest. You knew the man you were about to encounter would adamantly disagree and would probably throw you out on your arse for thinking so. You’d be sure to keep your strange admiration for the place to yourself for a while, at least until he warmed up to you a bit.

That could take awhile indeed, you thought grimly. Rather than start on such a task right away, you chose to descend to the kitchen and make yourself a calming cup of tea. Perhaps a drop or two of schnapps for some liquid courage were in order also. As the kettle warmed, you made your way to the flocked tree in the rear of the kitchen and smiled as you studied the ornaments there. Sirius himself had conjured and crafted most of them just days earlier, when he’d been noticeably more joyful. The anticipation of Christmas had lifted him out of his funk, and he’d been determined to replace his family’s fancy heirloom ornaments with much more colorful, animated, and exciting ones. You enjoyed examining them while you waited for the kettle to whistle. They were a glimpse into his true self— the fun, whimsical side you always heard about in tales from the older Order members.

You’d seen that side a bit in your interactions with him so far. He had a certain glint in his eye as he teased you for your lack of coordination, which coincidentally had landed you in his lap one evening when you’d hooked the toe of your boot unceremoniously under the crossbar of the wooden kitchen bench.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you had stammered, your face painfully hot. He’d caught you with an arm scooped under your back.

“I’m not,” he’d quipped back with a glimmer in his blue gray eyes. And he’d given your thigh a couple quick pats with his large palm, just fatherly enough that you weren’t quite sure if he saw you as a cute, clumsy, overgrown kid— or something a bit sexier, as that glimmer in his eye along with his comment might have suggested.

Subsequent meetings were difficult after that fateful fall. You couldn’t stop your eyes from straying in his direction. In spite of his scraggly, unkept stubble and perhaps accelerated aging from Azkaban, he was undoubtedly a beautiful man. The Black family genetics were famous for a reason. Their symmetry and grace, smooth skin, full and shiny hair, and silky, aristocratic voices were mesmerizing. It was no wonder they drifted toward the Dark Arts; with gifts like that, they could clearly coerce lesser mortals into doing anything.

Sirius was made only more handsome by the tattoos that covered the previews of skin he revealed— a sexy “fuck you” to the house, the Black family line, and anyone who may chide him for daring to be different. You admired the confidence his swaths of ink portrayed, and each passing meeting made you yearn to study them up close. For academic purposes, of course. Continuing education in Ancient Runes. Field work.

“Do you not take sugar in your tea?”

The voice was quite light and innocent, but it startled you so much you spilled said tea straight through the holes of your wool sweater.

“Fuck!” you hissed. “You scared me, Black.”

He smiled and strode behind you, reaching around your front to grasp a kitchen rag that hung from the lower cupboard handle. He spun you around with hands on your upper arms and promptly began absorbing the spill. Of course he could have taken care of it with a mere wand wave. Interesting that he chose the more manual route.

“I scared you?” Sirius mused. “And to think you’re the one breaking and entering and stealing my tea. Which, strangely, you’re sipping black at the moment. Is this because you don’t know where to find the proper accompaniments, or are you simply that odd?”

“Simply that odd, I’m afraid,” you admitted, leaning back against the wooden counter with legs outstretched. “I like it black. Enjoy the flavor.”

This was met with a slightly arched eyebrow, but he recovered quickly and reached around you again to grab his own mug.

“I prefer it quite sweet, and loaded with cream, personally,” Sirius commented, voice still maddeningly silky and light. It tickled over your eardrums like a melody. His tongue snaked out as he tilted the mug to his lips and slurped.

“Don’t you Blacks have to attend some finishing school before you’re sent to Hogwarts?” you teased him. “Don’t they teach you not to slurp there?”

Sirius didn't miss a beat. “You’ll find I’m a bit of a dog, darling. I’m rather noisy and messy with my mouth.”

That rush of heat filled your cheeks again, and you found yourself trembling a little with adrenaline at how quickly things had escalated. Or did they? The conversation was quite innocent, on a service level. Perhaps your building desire for him had you reading things that weren’t there. You decided to change the subject and try to calm your racing blood.

“You seem quite a bit… happier… than the other day,” you offered as he continued to enjoy his tea. “Did you have a nice day today?”

Sirius seemed to snort. “I had a fucking awful day. How could I have anything but in a place like this?”

“I’m sure it’s not so bad, with the right company,” you pointed out nervously, suddenly scared you might piss him off enough that he’d order you to leave.

“I’ve had nothing but company for weeks,” he replied. “It can help, I suppose. But I’m still trapped.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say to this, so you busied yourself with your own mug, roving the kitchen slowly to avoid eye contact while you plotted where to go next.

“Is that why you’re here?” Sirius continued softly. “Do you believe you’re the ‘right company?’” His expression seemed skeptical.

You shrugged shakily. “I— I dunno. I guess I just thought… you shouldn’t be alone. I… I like being alone occasionally. But you… you don’t really seem like that type.”

“Not a bit,” he agreed. “But it’s not just about the company. It’s about experiences. And I’ve experienced everything there is to do here. Millions of miserable times over.”

You bit your lip, knowing you could never be so bold as to suggest novel experiences he might try. You were pretty sure he hadn’t had many of those— if any— within these walls. Not with multitudes of pureblood portraits staring him down. Of course he very well could have fooled around with pureblood girls here growing up, right? Just because he wasn’t a supremacist like his forebears didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a dip in the pureblood pool from time to time.

“So,” he continued, addressing you by your name as he crept closer, step by step. “What experiences are you bringing with your company? How will you keep me from being bored?” His eyebrows arched and narrowed adorably with his words as he challenged you.

He stopped just short of invading your space, so you could still view him easily from head to toe. He wore a thick velvet robe in deep burgundy overtop a black and green pinstripe shirt that was honestly a bit… Slytherin-like, when taken in isolation. Perhaps he hadn’t invested in a new wardrobe upon his return and simply relied on the house’s contents. But it suited him nonetheless— this regal contrast of the two houses adorned with his double Albert chain and shiny brown dress shoes. Of course the colors were befitting the season as well, a reminder that Christmas joy still lingered in the air, if one looked for it. You imagined that the house once saw splendid Christmas feasts— glittering, elegant affairs filled with firelight and extravagance as the Wizarding World’s upper crust filled every floor. Personally you enjoyed picturing something more intimate, more cozy, within those old walls.

“Let’s light a fire,” you suggested, setting your teacup down and leading the way to the parlor.

Sirius scoffed behind you but followed nonetheless. “Why would we do that? The entirety of the house is under a warming charm, darling.”

“Hogwarts has fires in the common rooms, does it not? They were nice.”

“Nice, but obviously unnecessary,” he continued practically.

“You need some actual warmth in this place,” you insisted, setting to work lighting the floo. “The kind of warmth that feels good on the inside too. Comfort. A glow.”

“You’re a Hufflepuff, aren’t you?” Sirius asked with a snicker, reclining in a large, faded velvet armchair. He spread his legs in a wide slouch, and you couldn’t help but gaze downward at the movement. Thick, ribbed corduroy slacks hugged thin legs and tapered down to fine silk socks, above which you saw the faintest glimpse of pale skin and dark hair.

“What does my house matter?” you returned in a non-answer. The fire roared to life in the large black marble, and instead of joining him in the companion armchair, you chose to settle on the rug right in front of the flames. Your skin was already on fire, of course, from the turn-on of his earlier proximity and banter. But the added warmth felt nice, and you hugged your knees to your chest.

“Your house doesn’t matter,” he agreed. Just simply a guess. Now, what about that experience you’re going to offer me? Still waiting for an answer on that one.” Sirius rested an elbow on the chair arm, his fingers toying with the ends of his long mustache where it met the unruly stubble on his chin.

“Come down here with me. This is an experience,” you responded, patting the empty space next to you on the rug. It was thick and smooth, richly woven, and of course very expensive. You could feel thick loops of fine threads beneath your fingers as you traced its intricate pattern.

“Sitting by a fire?” Sirius asked incredulously. But he did make a move to join you, settling down in the spot you indicated and then shifting closer. His robe brushed the sleeve of your sweater, and he made no move to back away.

“Well, what kind of experience did you have in mind?” you shot back.

Sirius shrugged innocently, eyes twinkling in the dim light. “No idea, love. You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep, remember? Don’t you have a plan for these things? Or are they spontaneous? Maybe you’re a Gryffindor then?”

You gave a small smile, refusing to answer the question. Instead you studied the details of his face you’d never noticed from afar, features augmented by the dancing shadows of light. He had a very well defined facial muscle that gave an intermittent sexy twitch. And another defined crease on the underneath of his nose that made you curious if you had one; you had always just envisioned it to be smooth. But most magnificent was the way the firelight bounced off of every soft curl — a bountiful dark mahogany crown that would be the envy of any woman alive. You longed to run your hands through it, betting it was even more luxurious than the tapestry rug beneath your increasingly aroused bottom half.

“I’m beginning to feel rather exposed,” Sirius declared, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been examined in such detail before. Is this for ‘science,’ as the Muggles say?”

You cleared your throat nervously. “Uh, yes. Wizarding genetics, I guess. You’re just very… impressive.” You winced at the terrible recovery.

Sirius responded with a sweep of a tattooed hand over your cheek. “I’m flattered, coming from a witch as exquisite as yourself. Not to mention young. I believe I have quite a few years on you, yes?”

Your heartbeat was painfully audible as you tried to craft an answer. His fingers still explored your face, alternating with occasional twists of an adjacent lock of your hair. Each sweep of his skin over yours seemed to make your veins tremble.

You truly didn’t know how to respond. Your Muggle friend had once informed you that the term for your specific brand of fixation was “daddy kink,” but you weren’t sure admitting that would do you any favors. You liked how his touch was so self-assured, and the richness of his scent, and how he always knew what to say without hesitation. You liked how the hard lines of his face and hands denoted strength and experience. And you liked how he made you feel small and fragile and protected just by being near you. You wished you could tell him all that without sounding ridiculous. But you were fairly certain you were already communicating it with your parted lips, panting breath, and love-drunk eyes.

“You are going to make my night interesting after all, aren’t you, little one?” Sirius husked, and the bud between your legs danced frantically up and down in response. How did he know to call you that? Your eyes closed with the dizziness of your anticipation, and the hand that had drifted so gently over your cheek now rested fully on your throat. His scent became even more pronounced, alerting you to his closeness just before his mustache tickled your upper lip in the briefest of warnings.

The kiss he gave you was chaste and just enough for you to learn the shape of his lips before he pulled away.

“If you don’t want this, you need to tell me,” Sirius said, his voice low as it drifted directly across your ear. “I’ll stop if you ask me to— at any point. But this is the only asking I’ll be doing myself. Once I begin, you’ll find I’m far too busy to stop and check in.”

His forehead rested gently on yours, his deep blue eyes smoky in the dim light.

“Busy doing what?” you whispered— half teasingly, half desperate for the fire between your legs to be stoked by all the dirty things he would promise.

Sirius chuckled lowly. “You like dirty talk, little one?”

Your affirmative answer came as a whimper, which elicited another devilish chuckle from his lips.

“Very well,” he said silkily. He punctuated the words with another firm kiss on your lips, this time allowing the very tip of his tongue to trace the outline of the bottom one before planting light kisses along your jawline to your earlobe. He paused there, allowing a breath to tickle your ear before he spoke.

“I am going to make every part of your body come alive, as if I cast a spell. But there will be no wand— only my hands, my mouth, my voice. I will make your delicious cunt so wet it will be weeping for my cock. Then I will bury it in you so deep you scream… so loud you’ll wake every portrait in this house and make them curse your sweet, beautiful name. You will ride my cock for as many mind-numbing orgasms as your body can handle, then I will take my pleasure and fill you so full of my seed that it trickles down these soft, smooth thighs all day long tomorrow. You’ll feel it and remember me, and you’ll want it all over again.”

Sirius accompanied his filthy murmurings with firm strokes to your inner thigh, hand already buried inside your skirt. You let out an almost agonized groan in response— all intelligible communication now impossible. Your body literally shook just from his promises, and you knew the look you gave him as he came to a kneel on the rug was one of complete and utter submission.

His hands came beneath your head to cradle it, hands swept in the tangle of your hair as kisses became more insistent, open-mouthed, and allowed you taste the salt and firewhisky on his breath. His tongue explored in gentle licks followed by long sweeps of your mouth, as if it was truly a mission to discover inner parts of you and not just kissing.

You became eager for his hands to move elsewhere, but they still held your head still for his mouth to continue its wicked work. His kisses made your head spin, but the rest of your body felt in heat and neglected. You came to your knees yourself, hands introducing themselves to the sturdy velvet of his jacket, your legs making a move to straddle one of his trousered thighs. He let out a low laugh.

“So eager,” he chastised. “I’m the one who hasn’t shagged in fourteen years, yet I’m the one demonstrating all the patience.”

“I want you!” you defended yourself breathlessly, not even caring if you sounded desperate now. You just needed relief, and to have this wizard covering every inch of you.

“Ah, there it is. The answer I needed to my question,” he said with a wink. “You needed to give me permission, you know.”

“You have it,” you insisted, and as a visual aid to your words, you took the initiative to shrug out of your own sweater. Your breasts swelled over the cups of your lacy, favorite-colored bra. You noticed Sirius became strangely still at the sight, his mouth parting.

“Fucking beautiful,” he managed to mutter, and he cast his own robe aside to free his movement as he reclined you both onto the rug. His fingers gently slid one strap from your shoulder, replacing it with his mouth and soft whiskers. The detailed attention he paid to a spot as random as your shoulder reminded you of his promise to awaken every part of your body. Sirius planned to make every cell literally beg.

His kisses danced across your collarbone in a similar fashion, tended to the next shoulder, then came to center on your pulse point, where he began a gentle suction. You let out a cry at this and took the chance to enjoy his gorgeous, thick curls while he worked his mouth on your upper body’s most sensitive spot.

“I’m going to have wicked marks if you keep doing that,” you teased with a whisper. Sirius’s nose brushed your earlobe as he went for the other side, sucking the sensitive skin beneath like he was starving.

“Good,” he finally broke to whisper back. “And your neck’s not the only spot I plan to mark you.” He added teeth to the mix now, grazing lightly over your throbbing pulse. Would he bite? Would you even care if he did? But he only threatened such before moving lower, working your arms out of the dangling bra straps to reveal your breasts to him. His breath caught in his chest as he appreciated them with his eyes first before cupping them hard, one in each hand. His rough thumbs drove your nipples into peaks, watching each little bump emerge with fascination.

You observed him with a smile, arms leaned back behind you to prop you up for his amusement. You realized of course that it had been over a decade since he’d played with such toys, and though your body was humming for more, you granted him his boy-like fun. Sirius alternated between circling your nipples into painfully hard peaks and kneading your breasts like dough before finally suckling the left into his mouth. The action caused your eyes to roll back in your head. This wizard knew what he was doing. It was more than just taking the soft, pliable tissue into his mouth— he created a firm, merciless suction whose movements echoed between your thighs in violent waves. Your legs parted reflexively, and you grabbed his hand, encouraging it down to feel your burning heat.

“Please touch me,” you begged. “I’m so wet for you.”

Sirius responded to this with a hungry growl, releasing your breast to reveal brand new marks as promised. He gave the other another very rough squeeze before grabbing at your skirt, ripping it downward. He sent it hurling away, narrowly missing the fire. The rip of lace echoed through the air as your knickers followed.

“Am I supposed to walk home with no knickers tomorrow?” you mused above the noisy kisses he planted to the soft skin of your stomach.

“You’re not going home tomorrow,” he replied quickly. “And you’ll be naked all day. And you certainly won’t be walking by the time I’m finished with you.”

“Oh, so you— you like it rough then?” you asked between gasps, shuddering as his fingers traced the tops of your inner thighs, which opened to the hot breaths drifting over your sex.

“Not always,” he answered, grinning up at you from between your parted legs. “But the Black family genetics extend to other endowments as well. In both size and stamina. Even sweeter lovemaking can lend itself to the need for pain potions, love. Do you still consent?”

You licked your lips and lowered your eyes, feeling them burn with sultry want. “I thought you weren’t going to ask anymore?”

“Gryffindor chivalry,” he dismissed with an adorable pursing of his lips. “It’s a curse sometimes.”

“Yes, I consent,” you answered with a grin of your own. “But before you touch me like I asked, I want you out of those clothes. I need to see this endowment of which you speak.”

Sirius sat up and gave your thighs a swift tap before closing them. Your own wetness was dripping onto them at this point, and you could smell sex on the air already.

“You don’t believe me?” he inquired with raised brows.

“Well, you know, Gryffindors are fond of bragging…”

Sirius let out a deep laugh. “So I can assume you’re not a Gryffindor, then, with a comment like that.” He stood and began disrobing, his thumbs drifting over the buttons of the dark green shirt. Each tattoo he revealed made you salivate. He wore a thick, shiny belt buckle now displayed over a prominent bulge in his trousers, and you imagined he was growing quite uncomfortable in there.

“Still not telling you my house,” you replied, shifting your closed legs from one side to the other as you watched your strip show, offering him tantalizing glimpses of your cunt and arse but never separating your thighs for a full view. Sirius never took his eyes off of you, and when his trousers swiftly lowered, you were greeted by the surprise of no underwear— followed by the thick, glorious inches of a very hard, uncut, pureblood cock on display. Your jaw dropped open.

“Already opening up for me?” Sirius commented silkily. “Good girl.”

You nodded, ready to have your mouth fucked speechless if that’s what he wanted. But Sirius seemed to have other plans, pouncing back on you in under a second. He parted your legs almost violently, his face voracious as he plunged his nose into your soaking wetness to inhale before licking furiously.

“Oh, fucking gods!” you moaned, arching into his frenzied movements. He was truly very noisy and beast-like with his mouth, as he’d warned. His tongue alternated between flat, all-encompassing licks across your entire slit, and tiny, strong, targeted flicks around your bud. He approached your sensitive, nerve-filled opening with his tongue in a stiff point, swirling it around to beckon wetness from you in droves.

“I’m fucking drowning you down there,” you moaned, arching your back against the soft rug.

“I told you I like loads of sweet cream,” Sirius responded with a murmur. “Keep it coming, love. Soak my face.”

His tongue rammed your g-spot now, his whole stubbled face buried in your cunt. Your smell filled the hot air and was so sexy you wanted some yourself. Sirius seemed in tune with your needs because his fingers found your hole as his tongue drifted upward to concentrate on your swollen bud again.

“Let me taste your fingers,” you whispered.

“So you do like sugar and cream after all?” he chuckled before obliging with a rather rough shove of his soaked digits into your mouth. His wet stubble scratched your face as his words sought your ear. “Or maybe you’re just a very dirty girl.”

You sucked the delicious sweet-salty combo from Sirius’s fingers, offering kitten licks, strong suction, and previews of all the things he could expect once that glorious cock was in your mouth. His hand found its place within your slit again and began purposeful movements, the back of his palm massaging your clit as his fingers found the g-spot again, kneading the spongy, swollen tissue.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I need your cock.”

“Oh yeah?” he mused delicately, leveling his heady eyes to yours. “You don’t like what my fingers are doing to you, darling?”

“I love it,” you panted. “But I’m gonna come!”

“Then come, sweetheart. You can still come on my cock. Promise.” Sirius’s hand picked up its pace so any resistance was hopeless. His mouth returned to your neck to secure you in place as the waves took over your body, your whole frame convulsing in one giant shake after another with your beautiful release against his hand. Sirius’s wet mouth closed over yours, his tongue invading as he situated his warm, taut body between your legs. Your bud was still tingling with aftershocks when he touched the head of his cock to it, angling for pressure.

His girthy shaft sought its spot between your glistening lower lips, hips driving the thick tip up against the underside of your clit, and his hard, veiny surface sliding against your still swollen vulva. Sirius wasn’t going to let the pressure ease for even a minute, making sure to build another climax even stronger than the first for his cock to work you through.

“Inside me, please!” you breathed into his mouth.

“I think you can come just like this, darling,” he argued. “Don’t you?” The ridge of his cockhead massaged your clit furiously with his back and forth, and your body gushed messily all over his shaft. Your nails made deep half moons in his tattooed shoulders.

“Y— yes, I can come for you.” You arched up to grind into his impossibly hard length, seeking the rhythm and friction you needed to push over the edge. It required wild gyration and complete abandonment of any self consciousness. Your breasts bounced against his chest, and you clung so tightly to him to ground yourself that your nose was buried in his curls, smelling his animalic musk.

You screamed as you reached peak again, the tremors tinier this time but still exquisite. Exhausted, you fell limply to the rug and took him with you, giving grateful caresses to the smooth skin of his back. Of course you were still aware of his inches throbbing against your thigh, and you knew you had to summon more energy if you were going to give Sirius the satisfaction he needed. The man hadn’t lain with a woman in nearly a decade and a half, and you wanted his cock thoroughly and ecstatically drained. You’d be lying, though, if your twice-satisfied cunt wasn’t worried about such a massive invasion. Your gratitude for the blissful, explosive orgasms aside— you kind of wish he’d honored your request and fucked you when you were swollen, open, and on fire.

Sirius raised himself on his elbows, gazing down at you with a lazy smile.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that, Slytherin girl?”

You blinked and jumped. “What?”

Sirius gnawed at his lip and continued to grin, deep blue eyes sparkling. “You heard me.”

“What makes you say that?” you demanded. “You haven’t even guessed Ravenclaw yet!”

“You let me fuck you way too dumb to be a ‘Claw, and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he pointed out. “I’ve had my fair share of Ravenclaw witches, and they never quite know when to shut up, Merlin love them.”

“Hey, Slytherins are smart too,” you said with a narrowed brow before you could stop yourself.

Sirius gave a hard smack to your arse before pulling you onto your side, his erection buried in your stomach. You laid breasts to chest, feet and legs entangled, faces flush.

“Tell me,” he said with a slight scowl. “How did they let another Slytherin into the Order? Do they not have standards anymore?”

“Oh, fuck you, Black,” you muttered.

“You’re still doing that, darling, don’t worry. No slithering your way out of that one. You know I’m just trying to rile you up and get you going again so you can handle my cock. Maybe a hate-fuck would be a nice game, now that our alliances are on the table? Would you like that?” His fingers tickled down your ribs and hips before finding the triangle he sought, just his fingertips easing lower to scissor your bud.

“Our ‘alliances’ are the same, you prick,” you laughed, accepting his fingers with an approving arch of your hips.

“Yes, but this new tidbit makes it so much more fun,” he insisted. “You’ve delivered on that new experience I wanted. A fine Christmas present indeed.”

“So this is your first time with a Slytherin?” you asked, doing nothing to hide your pride at that possibility.

“Virgin,” Sirius confirmed with a nod. “As if twelve years in Azkaban didn’t revirginize me enough, this makes it official. Now, show me what I’ve been missing.” He collapsed rather dramatically on the rug, hand behind his head, curls strewn about the intricate paisley pattern. His body was breathtaking— glowing in the firelight, each turn of muscle accentuated by shadow, each tattoo taking turns in the spotlight with the maneuver of flames. And at the center of the beauty was that cock, which hadn’t lost a bit of wind with this latest reveal of information. A generous leak of precum glistened at the tip, and you lowered your mouth to drink it in, your hair tickling his thighs. The first taste left you craving more, and your mouth slid over his huge shaft like a sleeve, locking him in your throat. You heard a grunt of shock escape his mouth.

“Fuck, that was fast,” Sirius groaned.

You eased off of him teasingly, lips forming an up and down suction which you accompanied with twists of your hand. He tasted positively feral yet clean and refined, just as you would have imagined. His tip leaked loads into your mouth, feeling like it would burst at any second if it weren’t for his exceptional control.

“Mmm… you taste good, Black,” you moaned approvingly. “Almost good enough that I’d settle for your load in my mouth if I didn’t want you to fuck my pussy so badly.”

“On your knees, fucking snake cunt,” he ordered with a wink, the fact that it was a game unmistakable. You gave one long, final suck up his shaft and gave a squeeze to his balls, drawing another deep groan from him.

In an instant Sirius’s hands were in your hips, holding you in place while his dripping head found your center. He was right— the banter had you on fire again, and your swollen walls took every inch of him as he pushed inside without hesitation.

“Ahhhh!” you cried out, unable to help yourself. His hips were a frenzy, abandoning every bit of his previous control now that he was within your tightness. Your breasts bounced in mad circles with the force of his pounding, and sure enough, you could hear the portraits stirring down the hall from the primal noises the two of you made.

“Oh, Sirius, yes,” you breathed, enjoying the repeated raking of his tip, ridge, and underside along your spongy, swollen front wall. He knew just how much to drag back and surge forward, never breaking the rhythm you needed to build to another crest in a matter of minutes. His chest was sweaty when it made contact with your back, and he occasionally dropped open-mouthed kisses to the skin of your shoulder blades with his forward surges. Every so often he broke his rigid support on the rug to squeeze your breasts, kneading them so tightly you knew you’d have bruises for weeks.

“Feel good, love?” he husked, and you knew he knew full well you were beyond good. His ego just wanted to hear it.

“Yes, Sirius. Fuck yes. Please come inside me.”

And it was truly your foremost want in that moment — to fill his hot cum paint your insides and have the satisfaction of giving him what he’d needed for so long. He renewed his lock tight grip on your hips and granted your request, resuming the pounding of your g-spot but faster now, the friction very much for his benefit— with yours as a mere pleasant side effect.

“Fuck, yes, I’m gonna fill you so full,” he promised breathily. “And you better come for me again. You better scream.”

You reached around to toy with your clit and make sure you obeyed his command, but he swatted your hand away and replaced it with his own, his fingers taking on a rhythm to match his snapping hips. All you could do was let out a long stream of moans and buck furiously in return, knowing that chasing your own pleasure would only increase his. His escalated moans confirmed he was approaching release, and you grinned as you picked up the pace even more feverishly, wanting to torture it out of him.

“Fucking GODS!!!” Sirius yelled, and he emptied into you with one hot jet after another, so much it ran right back out over his trembling cock. You kept your pace even after his cock stilled, the added lubricant from his release making easy work of your movements. The thought of being filled with him made your orgasm deliciously hot and dirty as your walls burned with pain and need. Sirius recovered enough to resume the pace of his fingers on your clit, and you spilled over the edge, lurching forward in a series of shakes that wracked your entire body.

You fell forward onto your belly, a mess dripping from your insides, your muscles and bones useless, your skin bruised. It was every way you should feel after a proper fuck. Your brain positively hummed with endorphins, and you breathed in the deliciousness of your combined sex on the air. You could hear Sirius struggling to regain his breath behind you, and you knew he looked sexy as fuck back there. But you were too exhausted to lift yourself up and look.

You weren’t even sure how much time had passed when you felt his arms encircle you, along with the cold rush of air as he lifted you from the warmth of the rug. He wasn’t a huge man, though you’d heard from other Order members that he was considerably stronger now than when he’d escaped the sea prison two years ago. He carried you easily up multiple twists of stairs until you reached a Gryffindor red room on the very top level. Then Sirius nestled you gingerly into a brightly colored duvet.

“Will you be able to sleep with this much red, or should I move you to the green room next door?” he asked dryly, shuffling his naked body next to yours and leaving you little choice in the matter.

“Well, it is Christmastime,” you reminded him sleepily. “The two play rather nicely together right now.”

Sirius responded by nuzzling into your shoulder, his whiskers scratching tiny red prickles into your skin.

#orderofthephoenix #older sirius black #post azkaban sirius #gary oldman #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #sirius black x y/n #smut #christmas smut #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #oneshot #grimmauld place

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ro-is-struggling · 30 days

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Fireproof Series Masterlist || Johnny Storm x Reader

disclaimer: the pictures above are purely for aesthetic purposes and do not represent the physical appearance of the reader

Series summary: you and Johnny weren't supposed to get along. You were the exact opposite of each other. While he was loud and outgoing, you were quiet and introverted. He loved to be the center of attention and you actively made efforts not to be. He had made a name for himself as one of the biggest players on campus while you stood out for your academic achievements. You hated guys like Johnny, and he had no reason to associate with people like you since you rarely shared spaces. And yet, against all odds, you were able to forge a solid friendship. In fact it was the contrast that made the two of you work so well. You called out his bullshit and he pointed out yours. You were a good influence on each other, no one could deny that. It was a perfect relationship, you knew all the bad things about each other and still chose one another....

But what happens when romantic feelings start to flourish?

This series is a collection of one shots that will give you a glimpse inside Johnny and y/n's complicated relationship.

Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, fluff, lots of cliches (like seriously, I was kinda playing the game of how many cliches can I put in the same story? lol) 2000s teen flick/ rom com coded (so I guess it’s a bit cheesy? read at your own risk!), FEMALE READER

This fic starts a bit before the events of the first Fantastic Four movie, when reader and Johnny are in college (but it gets to the movies don’t worry!)

English is not my first language

Author’s Note: I recently rewatched the old Fantastic Four movies and I had so much fun I just had to write something for Johnny. Yes it's terrible plot wise but I love the early 2000s vibes of it. So I tried to keep a bit if that vibe with very overused tropes/scenes and stereotypical characters (yk like the annoying popular girl, the playful fuck boy love interest with a heart of gold and the ‘I'm not like other girls’ main character). I have a soft spot for those kinds of stories and I thought Johnny was perfect for it! I tried to keep a balance as to not make it too over the top, I hope I did a good job

The idea for this fic is to make a sort of collection of separate one-shots that show different moments in Johnny and reader’s relationship, if that makes sense. I have most of the story planned and written, but it is not completely closed. What do I mean by that? That I have a beginning, conflict and ending thought out, but that doesn't mean that once I post those parts the story is over.

I'm structuring this fic more as plot points than anything else (i.e. how they meet, when they have their first kiss, what the big love confession is like, stuff like that). Beause of that, there are parts of the timeline of the relationship that aren't shown. And that leaves me time to imagine a lot of things, if that makes sense? So if I have a random idea about a silly thing that happens between them in the middle of "the plot" (or if you guys think of something!), I can add it and expand the context without changing the whole story.

ALL PUBLISHED PARTS:

Part 1: First Impressions

Part 2: {COMING SOON}

#johnny storm x reader #human torch x reader #johnny storm x fem reader #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm angst #human torch x fem reader #fantastic four #johnny storm #johnny storm fanfiction #fireproof series

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firefly--bright · 1 year

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jean kirstein modern headcanons!!!

warnings : none! gender neutral pronouns used, if any.

a/n: HI HELLO I'm so so SO sorry for the late fics. my finals ended like a month ago and oh my god I've just been Going Places™ like my schedule is jam packed with meeting up with people i haven't seen in three months because of the exams :/ I'm working on the requests!!! i promise, i read them and i am working on them. but!!! here are some headacanons to.... make up for the lack of content :3

taglist : @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-ishu-and-a-book

✿ masterlist is in linked in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist ✿

• he doesnt have a big sweet tooth but he LOVES chocolate like can't live without it. if you're also a chocolate person, he'll buy your fav ones for you and lowkey judges you for it ("why would you like this one???? the one i like is wayyy better you should get those")

• he's most definitely a friend's to lovers type guy. he never really thought he would be, though. he's a hopeless romantic and falls in love with anyone and everyone BUT he's also, as mentioned before, more hopeless than romantic. he'll yearn for the person from a distance, so he doesn't really think that he would go and fall in love with his best friend, of all people. you fall first he falls harder type beat yk?

• he's kind of gives off this confident, cocky and kind of intimidating vibe about him. when you first met him you just knew he thought a little too highly of himself. but after getting to know him, he's super vulnerable and soft and actually tries to be close to you. his intimidating Mr. i-fold-my-arms-over-my-chest-to-show-off-my-biceps persona is just a front, like he thinks being that coccky guy will make people think he's like mysterious or something and want to be his friend/partner

• i have a bi jean agenda actually

• thinks VERY highly of you. asks for your advice on everything even if you might not be good at giving it, hed want to know what you, specifically, think

• he's an architecture major :D i know alot of people have diff headcanons of him doing pol-sci/law (which are all valid tbh i agree with those hcs) but!!! i think he chose architecture because he has the right amount of passion for it. it's the closest thing to art he can have. he loves art but he's also aware that it doesn't...pay well, neither does he want to loose his passion for art. hes heard one too many stories of people choosing art and regretting it because their passion for art is no longer just a passion. Jean's scared he'd lose his love for it.

• isn't really used to physical touch, and if you're a touchy feely person, he's a little surprised when you hold him for the first time. he quickly grows into loving your touch tho and initiates cuddles :)

• hes kinda super smart. like he scores really well in class and always has. not only that, but he's gifted athletically as well

• he's more of a listener than a talker, i think. hed initiate conversation, ask you about you day and let you take away the conversation. doesn't really mind if it's "all about you", but if you ask him about anything, he'd gladly talk.

• hes actually SO shy when it comes to actually doing relationshippy things. the first time you held hands as a couple and not just friends, he had a nervous breakdown. he couldn't even look you in the eyes when he asked you out on a date, even if it was just a casual movie night at home

• he's very organized, surprisingly. he's not a clean freak but he just likes knowing where things are. rarely rearranges anything because it not only frustrates the hell out of him, he'd also have to get used to the new arrangements.

• he has a fixed skincare routine!!! he had acne as a teenager so he started taking skincare more seriously. knows a lot about different products, and if you don't have a fixed skincare routine, he'd tell you to have one. if you have super sensetive skin (like me) and can't handle anytjing other than basic face wash, he'd remind you to wash your face every night.

• he also is protective of his hair!!! he used to have dyed hair, but it didn't go well. he TRIED to bleach his hair but failed and half of his hair came out :')) he never dyes his hair anymore but he does freshen up his mullet every now and then. doesn't let anyone but his mom and you touch his hair.

• asks you if you can help him with oiling his hair because he saw one of those tiktoks saying they work really well. if you're anything like me and are used to oiling your hair every week, you'd massage his hair and his eyes close and his entire body relaxes the moment your hands weave through his hair <3

• LOVES showing you off. either in little ways (by swinging your hands together while walking) or by literally making his entire Instagram page about you. all of his six posts (he rarely posts, but whenever he does it's all about you) have you in them. the cheesiest captions, too. if that wasn't enough, he'd have (y/n)'s with your fav colour heart emoji next to your name in his bio to let literally everyone know who he's with.

• he actually loves to cook!!!! as said before, he'd very organized, so i feel like he'd also be into meal prepping. he watched those aesthetically pleasing videos of people rearranging their fridges with ungodly amounts of plastic cabinets. his own fridge is sort of a mess becahse he doesn't know what goes where :') but he does meal prep, and sometimes even packs you lunches with lil notes

• speaking of notes, he's not really good at talking about his love for you. like he'd show it in so many ways but he can't say it out loud. not only does he get uncharacteristically shy, he's always had issues with saying the words "i love you" out loud, so he either writes about it or draws you <3 you'd find random notes and letters written to you, sometimes with just. a cheesy joke, sometimes he actually Tries and writes a whole letter for you pouring out all the things he can't say out loud.

• the start of your friendship, you two bicker alot. it's clear you care about each other, but he loves teasing you because he knows you'll shoot back.

• he wears really thin eyeliner on special occasions <3 he doesn't like bold looks, but he does like how subtly the eyeliner makes his eyes look different. if yiure good at makeup, he'd ask you to help him.

• has a plethora of diff hats tbh like he collects them like an addiction. he has a fedora and beanies and bucket hats and normal embroidered hats. he has so many it's concerning

• he's very good at driving. when the two of you started getting closer, he'd ask you on long late night drives, either for take-out or just to listen to music and talk. he enjoys your company while driving. if you usually have motion sickness in cars, you will never feel nauseous in his car. he drives very smoothly, not too fast and not too slow. he's kind of a perfectionist (not extremely) and literally screams at Connie to slow down when he goes even a little over the speed limit. he drives the whole time in every road trip.

• his fav dessert is cheesecake. his unpopular opinion is that they're the perfect ratio of sweet and savoury, crunchy and soft.

• hes one of those people to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere. on the couch, at the table, no matter how loud it is or how bright it is. he's a light sleeper and also a snorer. if you're cuddling together, he'd either lay on top of you or wraps not one but both of his arms around you. one under your neck to provide a nice neck cushion, and one draped over your stomach.

• he runs warm, which is both a blessing and a cruse. in summers, even if he'd want to cuddle with you, you feel the need to get as far away as him because he's just so warm. you'd wake up in your own sweat if you do decide to take the risk and let him cuddle you. in winters though, his warmth is very welcome.

• loves it when you hug his arm while walking. if you're tired and kind of lean into him, expect him to eat that shit UP because he loves your warmth as much as you love his. loves it when you lean into him or hug his bicep. even flexes his muscles for effect (you definitely tease him for that)

• is not a fan of thunderstorms, he kind of has bad memories. either from being left out while the ither kids play in the rain, either from the rumbling and the scary sound that comes with thunders that resembles the sound of his angry father or its just how inconvenient it is.

• his dad wasn't really in his life that much, always away on business. every time he would come home, he'd srot of criticize jean's hobbies :( his mom eventually seperated from Jean's father and started her own bakery, hence Jean's love for chocolates.

• he panics very hard when you feel sick. he jumps right into his mama bird genes and makes you a soup from either his mother's recipie or he'd call your mother and ask her for her own sick day recipies. he'd feed it to you and refuse to leave you alone until you've had your meds.

• he loves kissing your forearm for some reason. you loop your hands around his neck after kissing him, so it's the closest to his mouth. he turns his head slightly, closing his eyes as he pecks your forearm :3 it's kinda a weird spot to like kissing, but it's really endearing when it comes from him.

• he has a couple small tattoos here and there. two of the five he has have actual meaning whereas the other three are just for fun

• he wants whatever you want. if you want children in the future, he'd be there with you. if you want nothing but a large house and a couple pets, he'd love to make your dream come true. he's passionate and extremely good at what he does, and he takes pride in it.

✿

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x you #aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

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azsazz · 2 years

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After Hours

Modern!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Multiple Request(s) for this one: @moony-thoughts : "i LOVE your modern bat boys... maybe we could get a fic??" & "Oh my god would you ever write a modern au with those jobs? I can’t get Az in the suit and glasses out of my head"

In other words: You and Az work in the same office and you've been crushing on each other for quite some time. Late at the office one night, he decides to do something about it.

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW!

Word Count: 6,922

Notes: I wanted to do something very special for my 1,000th post on Tumblr...can't believe how far this blog has gone and it's thanks to each and every single one of you. The Modern!Az we've been yearning for 🥵 I think I need a vacation after writing this 😮‍💨💙

_________________________________________

Azriel had been staring at his computer for far too long.

But he wasn’t liking the numbers he was seeing and he was sure that his clients wouldn’t either, which is why he’d opted to stay at the office hours after he was supposed to go home.

He knew that he could fix it, make the most money for his client, as he didn’t get paid the big bucks for nothing.

He’d had many nights like this before, sitting at his large desk, both of his computer monitors opened with what seemed like hundreds of tabs, eyes burning and fingers cramping from the amount of time he’d spent typing.

Empty coffee cups nearly spilled out of the small trash can beside his desk, the Starbucks app perpetually open on his phone. He’d ordered from the coffee shop at least six times since he’d gotten in after an intense training session at the gym with his roommate this morning.

Nothing but black coffee for him. Well, there might be an empty frappuccino cup shoved under the mass of the others, the remnants of whipped cream on the lid poking out between the holders and lids, the man having a secret sweet tooth.

But even the strong black coffee couldn’t help his fried brain now.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, preparing to leave for the night. You’d stayed later than you liked to prepare everything for an upcoming conference: itineraries, flights, hotels, the whole lot. You’re exhausted, back aching from your new bra and feet hurting from the heels you chose to wear on a whim that maybe your office crush might finally notice you.

You want nothing more than to go home and peel yourself out of your work clothing and pig out on the couch with a box of takeaway from your favorite restaurant with a shitty reality show playing in the background before you drag yourself to bed just to do it all over again Monday.

It’s not that bad, your job. You love it most days, especially those when you see Azriel.

He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever set your pretty eyes upon. With his midnight dark hair, hazel eyes that seemed to glow golden even under the unflattering fluorescent lighting, framed occasionally by his tortoise shell glasses.

He towers over most of your coworkers, and you’d might’ve gotten a glimpse of how large his cock was through his thin dress pants at an office party where you’d had one too many drinks to be considered appropriate.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since.

You’d had light conversation with him before, mostly about work, and you could hardly respond to him, found yourself blushing over nothing and stuttering through your words due to his intimidating beauty.

He was so out of your league.

Sighing, you dig your keys from your purse as you begin your trek to the elevators, pausing when you hear the music, soft and calming, coming from Azriel’s office. You thought you’d been the only one left for the night, well, you and the nice janitor who always seemed to find the time to stop you before you could slip out into the elevator.

Heels clicking softly on the tile as you approach, you peek around the corner into his office and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him at his desk.

You never truly had interacted with Azriel besides the light talk at the coffee machine when he was desperate enough to drink the watered down drinks your office provided. He was a busy man with an important job and although you would have loved to get to know him, his silent and serious demeanor had you more nervous than you’d ever been before to talk to such an attractive man.

His office is large, spacious with the minimal amount of furniture inside. His desk is enormous, made of dark wood, double monitors set up on top for optimal working conditions. The papers he’s perusing are both strewn about the work surface but in an orderly way that you knew would make sense to his calculated mind.

You nearly found it funny, how large he looked sitting in his office chair, and you expected the flimsy plastic to give out at any moment as he leaned as far back as he could, stretching his spine with a breathy exhale, the bottom of his shirt lifting to show that defined set of muscles and dark hair disappearing into his pants.

He hasn’t noticed you yet but you can’t help but watch. You always seemed to find yourself observing him, even when you weren’t consciously thinking about doing so. It was like something inside of you gravitated towards him, and you’d admire him from afar as he walked to his meetings in his finely pressed trousers that wonderfully showcased his thick thighs and tight ass.

Azriel sighs softly, removing his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Not even the blue light tint on his spectacles could save his sight now, having poured over numbers and articles from morning till night. He looks different than he had when you’d seen him earlier, dark hair now tousled out of its style in a way that you know he’s been musing his hands through it frustratedly.

You let your eyes trail to those luscious pink lips, glistening in the fluorescent light of his office like he’d just run his tongue over them before you’d entered. Down across his loosened tie, hanging limply around his neck, the first few buttons of his collar undone and showing the perfectly tanned skin you’d only dreamt of seeing.

Your gaze drifts over his strong arms, barely contained within the expensive fabric of his shirt, to the cuffs of his sleeves, rolled into the crooks of his elbows and showing off his impressive forearms. Veins bulging and moving beneath his skin like typing on his computer had been a workout all of its own.

His long fingers, the ones you had thought of so many times while pleasuring yourself. You’d imagined how they would feel, twisting and turning inside of you, the way that his expensive silver ring would burn ice cold pressed against your heated core.

You swallow, throat dry.

You’re frozen, unsure if you should interrupt or head straight home for the toy you’d left sitting on your bedside table, thoughts of this Godly male before you imprinted on the backs of your eyelids from how much you think of him.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” he hums, finally setting loose those piercing hazel eyes from his work up to meet yours, a shadow of a smirk across his lips.

Fuck. He’d caught you staring at him.

The heat in your cheeks is nearly enough to make you melt.

“Sorry,” you stutter, gripping the straps of your purse tighter for something to do. “I was headed home for the night and I heard your music.”

“Do you like it?” he asks, eyes looking you up and down, taking in those heels, that skirt, that button down stretched across your breasts like they’re about to burst…

You’re frozen in your spot, lightning zipping up your spine as he drags his gaze down and back up again, leaning back in his seat and quirking an eyebrow, waiting for your response like he hadn’t just undressed you with his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, clearing your throat to speak louder, “It’s nice.”

“You know what else is nice?” he asks, and the way that he does has you wanting to lean on the doorframe for support, legs wobbly in your heels from that shadow of a smirk gracing his lips.

You don’t dare ask, the heat crawling up your chest and neck. You want to hear the answer oh so badly but you don’t know how you’d be able to keep yourself from jumping him should his answer by you. Glancing towards his overstuffed trash can, you respond with, “Starbucks?”

His upturned lip turns into a wolfish grin and he pushes up from his chair. He trails a fingertip across the top of his monitor as he casually stalks around to the front of his desk. Not a trace of dust, just as he thought. He stuff his hands into his pockets and rests on the edge of the dark wood, sizing you up.

“Come here, (Y/N),” his voice is low, filled with mirth, like a predator watching his prey, eyes glued to you every shaky step closer you take.

Each stride forward is difficult, shoving yourself through the tension in the room as he waits. Your heart pounds in your chest, loud in your ears and you’re afraid if he speaks again you’ll miss it. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be alone in Azriel’s office while he flirts with you.

You may as well be naked with the amount of nervousness you feel standing before him. You’re nearly the same height now, and he’d tower over you should he stand.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about being alone with you?” he murmurs, watching, waiting.

Fuck. You could fall to the floor with utter happiness right now. He’s thought about you? He’s thought about you! You bite your lip, trying to contain the splitting grin forcing its way onto your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flicker down to watch and the hazel turns molten.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about being alone with you?” you counter with a burst of confidence.

Your bag falls to the side as he slides from the desk, closing the gap between the two of you in one long stride. He presses himself completely against you, his tall, lithe figure overpowering you, causing you to yield a step.

He pulls you back into him, large hands settling on your waist as yours clamp around his neck. Every inch of your skin is on fire where he’s touching you. You stare up at him and he stares back at you, trying to read your expression, if you want this as badly as he does.

You absolutely do.

His breath fans across your face as he speaks, eyelashes fluttering. He smells of coffee and mint and the leather from his desk chair. His voice is so low, a rumble of a question that you nearly miss. “What do you do when you think of me?”

You blush, looking down. And if that isn’t answer enough for this gorgeous male holding you tightly–

The glide of his hand against your clothed skin nearly makes you moan as he moves slowly up, feeling his way up and up and up until he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back ever so slightly so he can drink in the delicious rosiness of your cheeks.

And there’s that fucking smirk again. God, you’re so wet right now, if you lean in just slightly maybe you’d be able to feel his excitement too.

“Tell me,” he demands, though it’s a pant, a beg, like he needs to know just what it is that you do with that little toy on the table next to your bed. You can see the wildness in his gaze, the primal urge to know.

Inhaling a breath, you steady yourself, letting the anticipation and the tension wash over the both of you, and you speak.

“I touch myself to the thought of you, Azriel.”

“Fuck,” he groans and he can no longer contain himself, dipping down to catch your lips with his.

There isn’t anything delicate about it. You gasp into it, pulling him closer to you with the hands you have slipped around him, and he takes the opportunity to work his tongue inside, tasting you completely.

Azriel steps into you and yes. Exactly as you thought.

Your body is thrumming with a brilliant kind of heat that you’ve never experienced before, kissing him back just as hungrily as he’s kissing you. You bury your fingers into the long hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly, and it earns you a debauched sound that tastes as absolutely delightful as it sounds.

His hand traces around your front, blazing a trial as he goes, shoving it between the two of you. You falter for a moment but he’s using it to slide up under your shirt, needing to feel your soft flesh beneath his fingers.

You break the kiss with a gasp, positive that he’ll reach his other hand around and rip your shirt open should you give him the chance.

His roaming hand stills. Faces mere inches apart, his brows twitch together in confusion. His chest heaves perfectly in time with yours, still pressed tightly to each other.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Azriel,” you puff, trying to calm your breathing.

He tries to step away, clearly he’d gotten the wrong impression and God does he feel horrible now but you’re stepping back with him, stopping him by wrapping your arms around his waist instead.

“Why not?” he whispers like he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“I just…” you trail off, his thumb stroking patterns on your skin that leaves you dizzy. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?” he counters softly, keeping your gaze locked with his own when you try to look away again. You don’t know why but you’re nervous. This is everything you’ve been dreaming of, but what if it’s too good to be true?

“I want you.”

He releases a breath you didn't know he’d been holding. His hand snakes from your shirt and both of his hands come up to cradle your face.

The coldness of his ring grounds you, looking up into those soft flaxen eyes.

“And I want you, (Y/N). Have since the first day you started.”

Your heart stops in your chest.

Two years. He’d wanted you for two years and hadn’t ever made a move?

You kiss him again because you can’t help yourself.

He pulls you backwards, walking slowly back toward the edge of his desk. When he sits down it’s much easier to glide your fingers across his chest to his buttons and Azriel shivers beneath your touch.

Thankfully, the first few buttons are already undone for you.

Your hands are trembling with arousal and excitement as you try your best to undo his buttons while he kisses the brains out of you.

Sensing your growing frustration he chuckles against your lips, coming to your aid and finishing the job with deft fingers.

You don’t hesitate, shoving the silky fabric aside to press up against him fully, standing between his legs.

His cock is rock hard where it’s trapped against his thigh and he groans when you brush up against it. You throw your head back as he latches onto your neck, kissing and biting every inch of free skin he sees, a blank canvas for him to work.

You moan, fingers gliding down the planes of his chest, every muscle pulled taut with excitement, suspense, and it makes you grind your hips against his.

“We can’t fuck on my desk,” he pants, kissing you between each word. He can’t get enough of you. “How about yours?”

“What about Brian?” you whine, though he’s not the only reason you wouldn’t want to fuck on your desk. It’s in the middle of the damn lobby for fucks sake.

Azriel pulls away and gone is the feral look of hunger from his face, replaced by slight amusement. “The janitor?” he questions and you nod. His grin is a slash across his lips and you smack his chest as he chuckles. “I’ll pay him off, or I can pay him to watch if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Ew, you pervert,” you hiss, kissing him again because that smile is too handsome to resist. He laughs and your knees nearly give out at the rich sound. You try to take a step away from him but his arms are wrapped firmly around your waist and he pulls you closer instead.

“Well then I guess I’m taking you home.”

Home.

You and him. Him and you. At his house. Alone.

You can barely comprehend his words as he stands, turning off his monitors before snagging his keys off of the desk and picking up your purse from where you’d abandoned it on the ground, all while his other hand stays tucked in your own.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You’re nervous, trailing after him with your hand clasped in his warm one. It's marred and pink and you find yourself wondering what happened but you tear your eyes away just as he looks over his shoulder at you with a raised brow.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t have any extra clothes,” you blurt, cheeks tinting pink once more.

“You won’t be needing any.”

You shoot him a look and he laughs. The pureness of it sends your heart fluttering in your chest. You’d never heard him laugh so freely before, hell, you’d barely even seen him smile in the two years you’d worked with him. “You can borrow some of mine.”

“What about tomorrow? I have to come back to the office.” You protest, and you scold yourself for not shutting up. You want this.

“It’s Friday,” he responds bluntly.

“I know that, dumbass,” you groan at his smirk. God, that smirk. You swear your heart nearly beats out of your chest everytime you see it.

“Do you not want to come over to my place?” he asks as the doors to the elevator slide open. He punches the button and turns to you, caressing your face so gently you find yourself fighting not to lean into the soft touch. “Because I’m not forcing you. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. We can order some dinner or watch a movie, I’ll even leave you be, you can go home if that’s what you want. I don’t want anything you don’t want.”

“You’re what I want, Azriel,” you assure, grabbing his collar for a steamy kiss, “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” he thumbs over your cheek caringly.

You shrug, “I don’t know, because I can’t believe this is happening? Because you’re so intimidatingly beautiful, how can I compare? Because–”

He silences you with a kiss that lasts ten floors, you can tell by how close the glowing number is to the lower levels when he pulls away.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, I can promise you that. If anything, I’m the one who’s nervous. I’m in the presence of a literal angel, after all.”

You roll your eyes but blush at his comment, “Am not.”

His smile makes you grin and he leans down to whisper, “You are everything that I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N), so I think you are my angel.”

You shiver, pulling back to look him in the eyes. You find nothing but raw truth in those hazel eyes, and you find yourself leaning in ever so slowly when the elevator doors slide open.

The cool breeze of the parking garage and Azriel’s lips on your neck send shivers up your spine. He ushers you off of the elevator with a hand on your lower back and it nearly spreads across the entire width, warm and reassuring.

“This is your car?” you question, eyes going wide at the sight of the sleek, expensive car before you. It must be brand spanking new because it looks like it has less miles on it than the pristine shoes he’s wearing.

“Yes, why?” The locks disable with hardly a sound and Azriel opens the door for you.

Such a gentleman.

“I certainly do not get paid enough,” you mutter under your breath, tucking yourself into the passenger seat. He hands you your purse and shuts the door lightly. The leather is soft beneath your thighs and you inhale deeply as he walks around to the other side, letting the scent of the new car wash over you.

“Which one is yours?” he questions once he’s settled into the driver’s seat beside you.

You flush, cringing slightly. Your eyes betray you, flicking over to where your car is parked amongst the few others left in the lot. It’s not terrible but it’s certainly not comparable to his.

“It’s not bad,” he comments and you snort.

“I know it’s not. We’re clearly not in the same tax bracket.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he hums, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as he pushes the ignition button, the car roaring to life with an expensive purr, backing his words.

You’re glad that your cheeks are already red because you’re full on blushing now, hot with his intentions. You have to bite back the grin threatening to split your face in two.

Azriel eases off the clutch, pulling out of his reserved parking spot. You can’t help but watch as he shifts the car into another gear, his large hand smothering the shifter. You swallow harshly, the slight jolt of the car as he moves into a higher gear awakens your senses.

Once you’ve exited the parking garage and are out on the street does he really kick things into gear, gassing it down the road.

“Az,” you gasp, hand clamping to his forearm. In fear or excitement you’re unsure as you melt back into the seat from the speed.

There’s that fucking perfect laugh again, music to your ears. You were completely unaware of the dangerous streak the normally stoic man before you had.

And you quite like it.

He slows the sports car once you turn off onto a busier street, making your way towards his home. Azriel takes your hand into his, guiding yours to the shifter and covering it with his own warm one.

God, this man. So surprisingly unexpected from what you’d known of him. Everything you’re finding out about him only makes you slip further into your attraction for him.

You clench your legs together as the noises and the vibrations of the car are the only sounds between the two of you. It’s not awkward though, not in the slightest, and every shift of the gears with your hand pinned beneath his is so hot. His scarred hands are soft but firm, his thumb stroking your skin mindlessly as he drives, like this is a normal everyday thing for the both of you.

You want those hands all over you.

“Do you like driving a manual in the city?” you ask once you’ve hit a bout of traffic. You’re not asking because you feel the need to break the silence, only because you’re curious.

He shrugs, giving you his undivided attention easily. “It’s a bitch sometimes, especially in traffic. People seem to think that every car is an automatic these days so they’ll get right up on my ass and get pissed at me when my car rolls an inch backwards.”

You hitch an eyebrow, picturing how he might react being tailgated by an asshole driver. Would he flip them off? Maybe slow down to a snail-like pace just to piss them off further, all while wearing that gorgeous smirk that’s burned into your memory. Or would he gas it, leaving the tailgater in his dust?

Is it getting hot in here?

“I’ll probably sell it,” he continues when you don’t respond. You question his admission immediately, watching as he bites back his smile. “Like it, do you?”

“I just don’t see why you’d sell this nice of a car,” you comment, averting your gaze out the window so that he can’t see your pink cheeks and you can’t see his grin. “Don’t think I can come up with a single idea as to why you’d do so.”

“I’d sell it that I can have a free hand to tease you with,” his silky voice sends shivers down your spine and you wonder if he’d notice you fully crossing your legs should you choose to move them from where they’re trembling from being pressed so tightly together for so long.

Cruel, wicked man.

And fuck if he doesn’t love the way you blush with everything he says.

The rest of the relatively short trip is filled with teasing touches and cheeky remarks that have you nearly bursting at the seams. You hope Azriel doesn’t mind the indents in the leather your nails had made when he trailed a delicate finger up your thigh at a stoplight.

He pulls into the driveway of a lavish home. Modern with dark woods and stone, expensive like all things that surrounded this man.

Azriel opens the door for you, helping you out of the car. You can’t help but drink in the sight of him, the light from the moon washing over him and he looks ethereal, like he was born to thrive in the darkness.

“As much as I love when you look at me like that,” his voice is gentle, like if he’s too loud he might shatter the moon, “I would like to show you inside. That is, if you still want to?”

You nod graciously, following him up the pathway to the heavy looking front door, “Of course.”

The inside is as luxurious as the out, straight edges and expensive fixtures. The couch is the only piece that looks somewhat different, large and plush and comfortable looking. Loved.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he waves around, much more than ready to show you to the best part of the house, his room.

Azriel lets you linger where you’d like, asking all of the questions that pop into your head on the way, admiring his home. It suits him, you think, running your fingers across the thick slab of stone countertop as you pass.

When the door shuts behind you with a click, all of the feelings and passion and tension return full force.

Azriel turns from the door, prowling a step closer. You yield beneath his touch, his soft lips so achingly familiar already and you clutch to him, never wanting to let go.

He backs you towards the large bed that basks in the moonlight from the open window, letting your lips fall apart when your knees bump the back of the bed and you sit down.

He wastes no time pulling the shirt over his head. He doesn’t have time to undo all of the buttons he’d had to at the office. You’d so teasingly helped him do so, your fingers brushing across his chest and leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. He swears he can still feel exactly where you’d touched him.

You kick off your shoes as you wait and he leans over you, eyes dark and pupils blown. You want nothing more than him inside of you right now.

He guides you backwards, slowly, encouraging you with kisses down the column of your neck and down into the collar of your shirt until you’re resting against his pillows, pliant and ready for him to do as he pleases.

Your legs fall apart for him and he settles against you. A flush of heat slides through your body and it’s not only because of his body pressed tightly into yours. The way he’s looking down at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen makes your heart race, and you find yourself soothing your fingers through his hair, urging him down to kiss you.

Every kiss takes your breath away. The slow, teasing exploring, the caress of his tongue against yours turns hotter as you hold the back of his head.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds his hips softly, gauging your reaction. By the noise, he takes it as a good sign.

You’re ready for him, the hot ache between your legs is just begging for him. You buck up against him and he kisses you deeper, caressing your face and Azriel jerks his hips against yours more harshly this time, his cock heavy and dripping in his trousers.

You startle against his lips as you hear a door slam shut and a voice call out, “Az? You home?”

Azriel sighs against your lips, pressing his forehead into yours as he lets out a soft groan. His golden eyes are gleaming with lust and amusement as he answers your unspoken question, “It’s just my roommate. I figured he’d be out for the night, I’m sorry.”

In reality he’d been so distracted by your reciprocated feelings and immense beauty that he’d forgotten to text his roommate – Cassian, a friend from his college days – to disappear from the house for a while, most likely until late in the afternoon tomorrow.

“Let me just,” he starts, sliding his phone out of his pocket. The light from the screen illuminates his face and you’re awestruck once again at just how handsome he is. His perfectly straight nose, midnight painted hair hung low across his face as he texts, licking at his bruised lips.

It makes you ache.

He sends off the message and within moments you hear deep laughter from downstairs, barking out a bellowing “Wrap it before you tap it,” that causes Azriel to groan before the door opens and closes again with a slam and a car starts up in the drive.

You quirk an eyebrow, “You have a roommate?”

He shrugs, showing you his crooked grin. “He won’t leave.”

“Didn’t seem that difficult to get him to leave just now,” you muse, carding your fingers through his thick hair.

His golden eyes sparkle, “That’s because dear old Cassian would do anything to get me laid.”

Your nose scrunches up as you joke, “Been that long has it? Hopefully you’re not out of practice.”

Azriel’s smile turns positively wicked, dipping down to nip at your lips, “Would you like to find out, (Y/N)?” It’s paired with a jerk of his hips that sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, arching up into his muscular body. “Been wanting this for so long.”

“Me too baby,” he grunts, “All I think about is you in those tight little skirts,” he sucks a mark onto your neck, mouthing his way down the column of it, pulling away to stare down at your shirt with dark eyes. “These shirts you don’t button up all the way, God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He tears open the front of your shirt and you gasp with pleasure as the buttons go flying and you’re exposed before him, golden gaze raking up and down your body.

Azriel wastes no time, suckling on the delicate skin of your breasts, his hands sliding between you and the bed to unclasp your bra. He does so easily, watching you with a hungry gaze as he slowly removes the fabric from your body, drinking you all in.

His exhale is shuddering and you nearly sigh at the freedom. Trailing your hands lightly up his strong arms, you tug him gently. He goes easily, pressing his chest up against yours, both bare, and you gasp at the feeling of his muscle brushing across your nipples.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, “So fucking perfect, (Y/N). Do you realize that?”

You keen in response, squirming up into him. The way your body brushes across his has him in a frenzy, he wants you. To lick you, to taste you, to smell you, to be near you all of the time. His mind screams at him to never leave your side.

“Can I taste you?” It’s guttural, nearly a growl, desperate like his senses are completely overcome with you. His golden eyes glow in the moonlight, burning and alight with desire as he fingers at the waistband of your skirt.

Your eyes roll back, head falling into the fluffy pillow as you beg, “Please, Azriel.”

With a bruising kiss he works his way down your body, teeth and tongue and lips. It’s nearly overwhelming, the way he’s stimulating your senses with every caress, stroke, touch, all you can think is Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.

You can feel his every breath, shivering at the cool wisps against the wet skin around your navel he’d just been sucking on.

He’s torn between shoving his head up the bottom of your skirt because he’s eager to taste, or drag it off of you so he doesn’t have to worry about it later. He does the latter, helping you out of the piece of fabric and letting it fall from his grasp.

“Leave it,” he stops you from pulling down your panties with a gentle hand on your arm, “For now.”

He guides your hands up into his hair, a dark smirk on his face as he does so. “You’re going to want your hands up here, sweetheart.”

You press your lips together in a line, tugging on his hair, squinting your eyes at him like you’re unamused. His grin only widens, the gleaming ring of his iris’ around his dilated pupils looking like an eclipse.

Before you can respond he’s nuzzling his nose into your clothed cunt, drawing a gasp from deep within you.

Azriel ruts against the bed, barely containing his moan. You’ve soaked through the thin fabric, he can nearly taste you as he digs his tongue through the fabric, working his way through your folds.

“Mm, Az,” you plead, grinding against his face.

He’s never been so happy in his entire life.

He teases you for as long as he can take, his cock throbbing, aching in his pants, before he’s snagging the waistband in his teeth, dragging the pretty fabric off of you.

You’re thrumming with need, begging him for anything, hands snaking down to touch yourself when he pulls away because you need some sort of relief.

But of course, the ever watching male catches your wrist, tutting as he removes your hand, “Not yet.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, trying to twist your hand from his grip. He grabs your free hand, collecting both of your wrists in his grip, pinning them to the bed.

You cunt clenches with need.

With his free hand he undoes his own pants and you go slack when his large, leaking cock springs out.

Your mouth waters at the sight and you stifle your moan. It’s perfect, thick and long, pink at the tip and glistening, ready for you.

Oh how you’d love to wrap your lips around it one day.

He climbs back onto the bed, ducking down to swipe his tongue through your folds and you can’t hold back the noise that escapes at the feeling.

Azriel likes how you sound, all needy and whining for him, and he goes down for another lick because the taste of you exploding on his tongue is something he wants to taste everyday for the rest of his life.

“Azriel,” your tone has him freezing immediately, lifting his gaze to yours, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He thought you were enjoying this. Maybe you’d changed your mind?

“Save it for round two,” you whimper, and he nearly comes at the sound, the sight before him as you squirm, needy for his cock. “Please.”

“As you wish,” he whispers in your ear, licking at the shell of it. Your hand finds the back of his head and you turn to kiss him, hand snaking down to where his cock is rubbing against your dripping core.

It’s exactly like you thought, silky smooth and so large your hand can barely wrap around. He hums into your mouth as you tug it a few times, lining it up with your hole.

“Eager are we?” he smirks, though it sounds strained because all he wants to do is fuck into you.

“You’ve waited for this for two years–” he bucks and it elicits a filthy moan from you, “And you want to drag this out?”

“If it means keeping you in my bed I’ll do anything,” he pants.

“Show me what you’ve got and maybe I’ll stay,” you respond as innocently as you can but he’s pressing in all too slowly.

You wiggle your hips, silently begging him for more as your breath catches in your throat from the sheer size of him. Azriel watches you worriedly, hoping that he’s not hurting you, but the incoherent sentences and hips wrapping around his waist tell him you’re enjoying this.

Raking your nails down his back, his hips settle against yours with a soft groan.

He kisses your red cheeks, murmuring, “Breathe, darling.”

You do, barely, Holy fuck, Azriel. You feel incredible.”

He preens, hiding his grin in the crook of your neck. Your hand slides up the length of his back, stopping at the nape of his neck so you can keep him there, kissing harshly at your throat.

Waves of pleasure wrack your body as he begins moving, clutching him tightly, tugging on his hair.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, moving back form your neck to your lips, kissing you deeply.

His cheeks are flushed, hair definitely mused from where you’re pulling on it, his eyes soft but blazing with lust as he watches you become a mess beneath him. His pink lips curve into a smile at the sight.

You can hardly catch your breath as he pushes the air from your lungs with each thrust, filling you completely.

“So pretty,” he hums when you cry his name, “So fucking incredible.”

His voice is so deep you barely catch what he’s saying, reveling in the feel of his body against yours, his cock in your cunt as he picks up his pace a little, catching your mouth against his and pushing his tongue inside at the first opportunity.

You moan into his mouth, pliant in his arms. You’ll do anything he wants, if he asks. His hands are everywhere, his body is everywhere, his compliments wash over your body and all of it combined are working you closer to that familiar feeling.

Azriel fucks you, harder and faster until you’re moving backwards up the bed. He moves with you sometimes, a hand placed atop your head so he’s not rutting you right up into the headboard, other times he’s sitting up, grabbing you around the thighs, his cold ring branding your flesh everywhere he touches, pulling you down onto his cock.

You’re both slicked with each other’s sweat as he leans down so your hips, stomachs, chests are pressed together, his inky hair falling over his eyes.

He looks like fucking heaven. You can barely contain yourself, feeling the need to come seeping through your body, grinding up into him.

“Azriel, I’m going to–”

After a particularly hard thrust he snakes his hand between the two of you, finding your sensitive clit with ease. His calloused fingers know exactly what to do, and you can only picture him in the gym, perfecting this body, knowing his fingers hadn’t gotten tough from typing.

Each swirl of his fingers, thrust of his hips has you half moaning, half screaming as you grip him harder.

“That’s right (Y/N), good girl,” he praises and your eyes roll back in your head. You whine, needing to feel his lips against yours as you come and Azriel complies with a tender kiss that pushes you over the edge.

You’d never been fucks this good in your entire life.

Moaning his name loudly he works you through your orgasm, hips stuttering against yours as the wetness, your cunt convulsing, tightening around his cock sends him into a mind-numbing orgasmm of his own.

His forehead presses into yours and you moan his name over and over again because he won’t stop flicking over your sensitive clit. It feels amazing and you want to sob with pleasure, hips bucking up in a sharp movement that has his gasping against your neck.

You turn to him when he stills, kissing him like he’s the last thing you’ll ever taste.

Everything in your head is muddled, your focus only on everything Azriel.

He hums softly in your mouth and it makes your lip and tongue tingle. His body is hot where it’s pressed against yours but you don’t care, would rather be hot with him pressed against you than cold and alone.

Azriel holds you gently, slowly decreasing the pace of your movements until his lips are soft and light, almost tired. You sigh, curling a piece of his hair around your finger as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“That was…” he trails off because there are no words to describe just how amazing that was.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, kissing him once more because you can’t help yourself, “Yeah, it was.”

His hold on you doesn’t ease once and your heart swells with happiness.

You don’t know how long you lie like that, tucked into his side, and you’re the first to break the silence.

“Az?” You trace your finger down his chest.

He looks down at you, kissing your forehead softly, “Yes?”

You peek up at him through your lashes and the sight of him stirs something hot in your gut.

“Can we order some food?”

The corners of his swollen lips twitch and he looks beyond perfect, molten caramel eyes crinkling at the corners as he lets out a deep chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s get some food, get some energy back for round two.”

#azrielxreader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azsazz #azriel/reader #modern!azriel #fuck me 😮‍💨#idk what came over me

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slythindor100 · 1 year

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Hello friends! I, along with my co-mod, timothysboxers, are thrilled to announce that 25 Days of Draco and Harry will run again in 2023. We want to thank @navi1088 for creating this art for our banner.

For those who may not be familiar with this challenge, I have included the rules at the end of this post, and I encourage you to read these.

And for the loyal fans of 25 Days of Harry and Draco: In 2023, we will be doing both Early-bird and Traditional prompts as usual. Again, we're running on LJ, DW and tumblr – the rules will be the same as last year.

Because it seemed to work out quite well last year, the Early-bird Prompts will once again be available in late October, and we will be including the Image Descriptions along with the prompts.

Early bird prompts will be available no later than Sunday, 22 October, allowing creators over 5 weeks and some change to work on their posts.

Also, we will have the Discord server specifically for 25 Days of Draco and Harry participants. Like last year, this will be a place where early bird participants can discuss (in a channel just for them) the prompts and how they might use them. Traditional participants will join the general section of the server in December.

The 2023 rules at a glance, for those familiar with the concept:

25 Days of Draco and Harry 2023 - Traditional

No changes from prior years. A photo prompt is posted starting at midnight EST 1 December, and you create a work based on that prompt and post before the next day's prompt goes up.

Each of your posts can be part of a larger work or they can stand alone.

25 Days of Draco and Harry 2023 - Early Bird

You receive access to all 25 photo prompts no later than midnight (EST) Sunday, 22 October. This is the same time frame as last year. Hopefully this will give you time to prepare and create for 25 Days before the insanity of December starts.

You will post one work per day for each prompt. This can be a stand-alone story or each day can be a part of a bigger story. We may even get a pod-fic this year of a past 25 Days fic and that would be posted a chapter a day. ♥

The advantages are this:

1) you can use the picture prompts in any order you chose

2) you can start creating early and have many of your posts ready to go before December 1st.

3) you get the prompts all at once so you can pre-plan your story or your use of each day's prompt.

The basic rules of 25 Days of Draco and Harry – Traditional Edition:

The challenge is to write a drabble, ficlet, story (whatever) for the pictures posted each day from 1 Dec to 25 Dec. Your fic for each prompt must be a minimum of 100 words – but there is no maximum. They can be twenty-five one-shots or each one can be a part of a bigger story. Pictures will be posted at midnight EST and you have until the next midnight to complete your work.

Yes, you may combine this with other communities or tumblr prompts.

Your fic does not have to be a story of the picture – you can use a part of the picture or whatever that picture says to you. We're pretty flexible around here.

Traditional Prompts must be used in their posted order. If you fall behind, you can post more than once a day to get caught up. You're also welcome to post as life allows, meaning you don't have to worry about being on time. You can also combine a few days or prompts into one fic/ficlet/drabble/etc. But the true challenge is to post every day for 25 days within the 24-hour time frame.

You do not need to sign-up for the Traditional edition, the prompts will be made available beginning 1 December at midnight EST.

While you're not required to, you are encouraged to add your story to the AO3 collection by adding "25 Days of Draco and Harry 2022" to your submissions, under collections, when you post them to your own AO3 account. A link to the collection will be provided in the official rules post after it has been created.

The basic rules of 25 Days of Draco and Harry – Early-bird Edition:

The sign-up period for Early Bird participants will be from 15 October to 20 October 2023 via AirTable.

After signups close you will be given access to the 25 picture prompts no later than Sunday, 23 October. You may use these prompts in any order you choose – but each prompt may only be used once. The challenge remains to post a daily work from 1 Dec to 25 Dec using one of the provided prompts. Each should be posted between 12 midnight (EST) and 11:59 PM (EST) the next night. For written works, the minimum word count is 100.

FOR BOTH EARLY BIRD AND TRADITIONAL. IF YOU ARE POSTING INDIVIDUAL STORIES FOR THE 25 PROMPTS, PLEASE CHECK "THIS WORK IS PART OF A SERIES". THIS WILL PUT ALL 25 STORIES TOGETHER UNDER ONE HEADER, RATHER THAN 25 INDIVIDUAL POSTS (which can be difficult to find).

IF YOU ARE POSTING ONE BIG STORY, PLEASE CHECK "THIS WORK HAS MULTIPLE CHAPTERS". AGAIN, FOR THE REASON LISTED ABOVE.

The early bird prompts and the traditional prompts do vary. Some may be used on both but mostly they are two distinct sets of prompts.

If you have any questions, please email the 25 days mod account at [email protected] or DM one of the mods if you're on the Drarry Discord server.

@sassy-cissa and @timothysboxers

#25 days of drarry #25 days of draco and harry #drarry #25 days 2023 #draco malfoy #harry potter #2023hols #drarry holiday challenge

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tgmsunmontue · 8 months

Text

With our pets, a house becomes our home

5k Hangster MeetCute (Explicit, but not very by my standards). Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to after he adopts her and moves to Corpus Christi to be a flying instructor.

I started this fic before I saw @yeagrave's art, but this post is 100% Jake's lockscreen (and those are a set of Jake's spare dog tags).

Monday mornings generally suck. The people who have left their pets wellness until normal business hours because they didn’t want to pay the extra emergency fees. He quietly judges them. This Monday sucks more than most though, because he’s covering another vet on what is meant to be his day off. But he doesn’t want to make the admin staff have to reshuffle the thirty or so appointments that he now has facing him in a long gauntlet of monotony. Hopefully there will be something interesting that pops up.

He deals with the standard checkups, listens to heart murmurs, administers vaccines, makes notes for the techs, gives instructions about diets he knows get ignored by owners who think they know better. He has to change his scrubs when a dog vomits on him and yeah… he wants his day off back with a deep burning passion but pushes through. He can shower and blob when he gets home and bitch and moan to his friends. They can compare Mondayitis stories and see who comes out worst.

He steps into the waiting room, and there’s only two people left, one a woman with two kittens in a carrier, and the other a man cradling a puppy. He’s only got one left for his ticket today, and it’s a puppy so okay, at least he gets to look at a cute puppy and a cuter guy.

“Brisket?”

The guy blushes and Bradley can’t help his smile getting bigger as he gestures toward the consultation room.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hi, I’m Bradley. What brings Brisket in today?”

“She needs a general checkup, and I wanted to register her with a vet since I moved here in the weekend… She needs vaccines I think? And to be fixed? And I wanted to ask some questions?”

“So she’s here for the works… can I have a look?” Bradley asks and the guy blushes again, looks down at the tiny bundle who looks back at him adoringly and Bradley has a thing for guys who like animals. Couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t like animals, wouldn’t feel like he could trust them. He hands the puppy over to Bradley and he handles her gently, lets her lick and sniff at him a little before lowering her to the examination table.

“Tell me about how you got Brisket,” Bradley says, running his hands down the little body, grinning as she happily licks his fingers, tail wagging enthusiastically. She’s very sweet. Most guys like having big dogs, so he’s genuinely curious as to whether this guy chose this dog, or if he’s here at the bequest of someone else. Girlfriend or boyfriend maybe. Purely out of professional courtesy.

“Uh, I’ve wanted a dog for ages. Finally getting settled in one place for a while so I figured it was finally time you know? So I went to the shelter in San Diego, not really intending to adopt then and there…”

“She’s a rescue?” Bradley says, and he’s a little surprised. Because if they’re not big dogs then they’re usually little dog breeds, so some hybrid-cross-breed that some breeder thinks will be in demand. This little thing hadn’t looked like any breed he was familiar with, but there’s so many new ones and he’s not usually up with them all.

“Well yeah, of course. She just had such a friendly personality you know?”

“She is very sweet natured,” Bradley agrees, because the guy is clearly besotted with his puppy, and it’s adorable. He listens to her heart and lungs, takes her temperature and soothes her through the discomfit.

“So did you have paperwork showing what she’s already been vaccinated for? Most shelters give you adoption paperwork?”

“Oh, yeah, they did. One second,” the guy says, pulling folded pieces of paper out of his pocket and handing them over. On the top of the paper are all the details of the dog, and then down the bottom the details of the new owner. Jake Seresin. At least he has a name now.

“Okay, so she’s all up to date with all the vaccines, she’ll need to come back in six weeks for a booster. And we don’t do on the spot spaying or neutering, you’ll have to make an appointment when she’s a little older. Try not to let her out unattended, because we don’t want to be adding to the puppy population, regardless of the fact that she’d no doubt make gorgeous babies…You a first time dog owner?”

“I grew up on a ranch, had lots of animals. Horses mainly. Well, beef stock. But lots of working animals, not pets. She’s my first.”

“Well, you made a good choice. She’s got a lovely temperament. Nice and healthy,” Bradley states, laughing as she tries to chew on his thumb and he reaches for a dog toy from the jar. “Okay, so she’s going to be mouthy, she’ll want to chew on things as her adult teeth come through. You might find a couple of puppy teeth lying around but they usually just swallow them. It’s all normal. You have any questions?”

“Uh…I… um. Made a list.”

“Sensible,” Bradley says, and this guy’s adorable intensity is commendable, he wished more owners thought to ask their vets the questions rather than trusting Google.

“You’ve, uh, already answered a few of them actually.”

“That’s good, what else have you got?”

He asks about diet and exercise, sleep and routines, anxiety and separation and toilet training and Bradley answers them all, writes down a few notes and links to some reputable websites. Recommends a puppy obedience course, steers him away from problematic dog toys which can cause more harm than good. The appointment definitely runs well over the time, but it’s his last of the day and he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be, and after the day he’s had this is a nice silver lining.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much, it’s really helped.”

“You’re more than welcome. I guess I just have a question for you now.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“I don’t usually do this, but you want to grab a drink sometime?”

“A drink. Like…A date?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.”

“Great, let me get a card.” He grabs a business card, usually reserved for when he goes to conferences, carefully prints his personal cell phone number on the back and hands it over. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

… … …

Jake gets back to his house and immediately lets Brisket out into the back garden, looks at the little rectangular piece of card and puts the number into his phone before he loses it. He puts the name in as Bradley but then follows it with the flame emoji, followed by the guy with the moustache and then the dog emoji. That’s enough to remind him of who exactly Bradley is. Not that he thinks he’s going to need the reminder.

He spends some time looking at the websites Bradley has recommended, sends an enquiry about the puppy obedience classes. He’d already made an appointment for the booster shots and for getting Brisket fixed. Definitely doesn’t want to wait that long before seeing Bradley again. He grins. Only in town for five days and he’s got a guys number. Without even trying. Phoenix told him a puppy would help him make friends, that he needed as much help as he could, maybe she was onto something.

Hi Bradley. This is Jake. Let me know when you want to do that drink. I don’t start work until next week so currently free as a bird.

It’s not too late, and it’s been a couple of hours. He’s not going to play hard to get. He’s never considered himself hard to get when the guy is as attractive as Bradley is, and he’s never been one to play games or overthink setting up dates or hookups. He’s hoping this is maybe more than a hookup.

I’m free most evenings. Tomorrow? Dinner?

Jake grins, likes the idea of dinner even more than a drink, it’s a good sign; sends a message back, organizing a time but asking for recommendations of where they could go to eat.

… … …

They settle at a table and quickly peruse the menu before placing orders with the hovering waitstaff. They’ve made superficial small-talk about the weather and how Brisket is doing, but he’s hoping he can find out more about Jake himself.

“So you’re new to the area?”

“Uh yeah, I guess. I lived here a while back but am back for work.”

“And what do you do for work?”

“I’m in the Navy. An aviator,” Jake says, like he’s a little unsure.

“You’re shitting me…” Bradley says with a disbelieving laugh, because he’s had a guy tell him he was a naval aviator before. Except he hadn’t been and the lie had quickly bitten the other guy in the ass when Bradley had quickly realized and called him out on it. It had been a shame because Bradley had genuinely liked him.

“Why would I lie?”

“Well, some guys think it’ll sound impressive…”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well… maybe to some guys,” Bradley concedes.

“Not you?”

“No. Not to me. I’m more impressed you adopted a rescue, travelled across country with it and care about your puppy than what you might or might not do for your work.”

“Most people care that I disappear for months on end. Or have a thing against the military in general.”

“Huh,” Bradley states, realizing that that was maybe where his hesitance had come from. “I’m used to people being away for long periods,” Bradley states. Jake raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m just… I was a Navy brat. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Yeah. Grew up on bases, spent most of my life on them. We probably know some of the same people, if you’re actually a naval aviator…” Bradley says, still giving him an out, because maybe this guy is not realising the hole he’s dug.

“How do you figure?”

“My dad was a naval aviator, and until very recently my godfather was also a naval aviator, although he’s recently retired. Although I don’t think the Navy will actually ever get rid of him. He’s pretty entrenched.”

“Yeah, what’s his name?”

“Pete Mitchell,” Bradley provides, and Jake’s immediate response makes him relax a little. That’s definitely recognition of the name.

“Maverick? Mav’s your godfather?”

Bradley opens his mouth, snaps it shut again. Not just recognition but more than that. He's calling him Mav. Of fucking course he knows Mav, and he hadn’t used his callsign so this guy is legitimately a naval aviator.

“You know Mav huh?”

“Yeah. He’s… damn. He’s fucking insane but so good. He was brought in to train us and he’s just… that good.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego doesn’t need to be made any bigger.”

“He deserves his ego, he’s fucking legendary.”

“You sound like a fan.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. He’s… worthy of fans.”

“Yeah well, he’s my godfather. So there you go.”

“Wait, are you little goose?”

“Oh god…” Bradley groans.

“You are!”

“Yeah yeah… this is quickly losing the date vibe.”

“Sorry, I can bring it back to that,” Jake says, and his hand is suddenly resting on Bradley’s, warm and dry, fingers stroking the back of his hand.

“Yeah, think you better or you might strike out…”

“Wouldn’t want that…” Jake says, and his eyes are dark and amused and Bradley feels a little thrill at being the subject of his intense gaze.

“So, you’re an actual naval aviator.”

“Yeah, no wonder you aren’t impressed if you grew up hearing about Mav’s exploits. Fuck.”

“Trust me, I find you plenty impressive.”

“Good to know,” Jake says, his smile clearly pleased. “I’m one of the new flight instructors. Have a three-year stint here and Kingsville unless they need me for something special.”

“Nice. Do you like teaching?”

Their conversation changes as they talk more, discussing what their upbringings were like, their families, respective careers, all of Bradley’s current animals, favorite food and drink. It’s easy, their humor similar and gently teasing at times, making laughter come easily. It’s one of the best first-dates he’s ever had and it’s not until there’s a polite cough that he looks up to see the rest of the restaurant is empty, the waitstaff having clearly cleared up and are now just waiting on them. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly midnight and his mind bugs out a little.

“Shit, sorry. I guess we got caught up talking.”

“It’s fine.”

He grabs the bill, leaving a generous tip for keeping them and tells Jake he can grab the bill next time, which has him murmuring next time huh under his breath, close to Bradley’s ear as they walk close together as they step outside. There are only two cars left in the lot and he guesses the staff must park somewhere else. He walks Jake to his car, only a few yards from his own truck.

“I had a really good time tonight…” Bradley starts.

“Me too. Wouldn’t mind doing it again…”

“What are you doing Saturday?”

“Having dinner with this hot guy I just met…”

“What a weird coincidence, so am I…”

He shifts forward, eyes searching Jake’s face to make sure there isn’t any hesitation before placing a gentle kiss on Jake’s mouth. He pulls back slowly, his lips quirking in amusement when Jake quickly gives him another kiss back, slightly firmer and longer and he feels the flicker of warm anticipation come to life in his belly. Potential something.

“Don’t suppose I can tempt you to come back to my place?”

“I’m definitely tempted, but I’ve got to get home. Dogs.”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Bring Brisket on Saturday. She can meet the pack…”

He doesn’t want to mention that Jake could also bring all her gear, as well as a spare toothbrush for himself.

… … …

They’ve been messaging since dinner on Tuesday and Jake feels completely settled into his house now, he’s driven to both Corpus Christi and Kingsville to familiarize himself with the routes. He’s taken Brisket to her first puppy obedience class, figured out the most convenient grocery store. All week he’s been looking forward to Saturday, packs some things and leaves them in has car, so if he needs any of it they’ll be close at hand. If it’s effectively a sleepover backpack for him and Brisket that’s between him and Brisket.

He pulls into the drive of the house address Bradley had given him and looks at the tall fence that surrounds the back garden, can already hear barking and he looks down at Brisket who is sitting there, ears pricking forward at the sound of other dogs. He gets out, grabs her bag of stuff and carries her toward the house, glad she at least seems curious about the barking rather than terrified. He rings the bell, eyes widening at the sudden increase in barking and then Bradley is there, smiling at him behind the wavy glass of the door. Immediately the barking ceases, although there is a small yap, and then the door opens.

“Hi. Come on in.”

“Hi. Uh. Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

“Trust me, if anything she’ll rule them with an iron paw… feel free to put her down.”

Jake doesn’t particularly want to, but Bradley is looking expectant, as are the five dogs who are all sitting and waiting obediently. He knows they aren’t all Bradley’s dogs permanently, that he’s fostering three and dog-sitting one, but he can’t remember which one is which. Most of the dogs are normal sized, one is huge though, and he wishes he remembered which one Bradley said was his. Then a cat walks in and insolently stalks in front of the line of dogs and collapses at Bradley’s feet.

“Curtiss,” Bradley states, waving a hand at the cat with a sardonic sigh. The fact that none of the dogs have moved, except one, the largest, whose tail had started wagging enthusiastically makes Jake feel more confident about putting Brisket down. She is nowhere near as disciplined as any of the other dogs. Hell, the cat is probably more disciplined than Brisket, despite the fact it is a cat and takes direction from no one. Understandably she runs from him to Bradley, then to the cat, then back to Jake, then takes turns running to and around each dog and prancing playfully, like she expects them to play with her.

“I’m going to give them the release signal and it’s going to get chaotic, but just trust me okay? They’re well trained.”

He believes it, but sure enough in less than a second there’s barking again, six dogs suddenly all barking and then they’re running and Brisket is chasing after them and Bradley grins at him.

“I gave them the signal for outside. Brewster is too big to not be well trained, and he generally gets all other dogs quickly following his lead.”

“What kind of dog is he again?”

“A Leonberger. He was surrendered to a local shelter because the owners couldn’t afford to keep him. He eats a lot. He went unadopted because of the costs associated with feeding him, raft of potential health issues as he aged and because he had zero training. I’ve had him for five years now.”

“He’s massive,” Jake says, and he knows he’s stating the fucking obvious but when Bradley had said he had just the one big dog, he had never imagined this. He’s pretty sure Brisket is the size of one of his paws.

“Yep. But as I said, he’s very well trained. I work with him every day as well. Come on, I promised you dinner.”

“You cooked?”

“I did, but it’s only one of the five meals I can make, so don’t go thinking I’m accomplished or anything.”

“As long as it’s edible.”

He takes the offered beer, watches as Bradley dishes out some pasta dish along with some garlic bread and then directs him to sit at a high bench on bar stools rather than at the dining table.

“We don’t want Brewster putting his mouth into our food, at least up here we have a slightly better chance of protecting it.”

“I thought you said he was really well trained?”

“Not when I’m eating food. All bets are off if I’m eating.”

Jake laughs and just like it did on Tuesday, conversation flows easily. Bradley can follow his work talk easily, obviously used to Navy talk because of Mav, his own work stories are equal parts hilarious and terrifying. He’s attentive, giving Jake his full attention and he finds he likes that a lot more than he thought he would. They finish dinner, Bradley quickly stacking his dishwasher before feeding the dogs. He watches as Bradley holds their attention before giving them the signal that they can eat and he can’t help but be impressed. He’s pretty sure Brisket is only going to have to look at him and he’s going to cave to her every whim. He does try and look like he’s not a complete soft touch in front of Bradley as he feeds her, but he doesn’t think he succeeds.

They go into the back lawn and throw balls for the dogs, starting an elaborate game of keep-away for about twenty minutes before Bradley offers him dessert. He wants to ask if it’s Bradley himself on offer but doesn’t, instead takes the bowl of fruit and ice-cream and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, apparently safe from Brewster as he’s afraid of the scent of fruit. There’s a collection of boardgames, none of which he’s familiar with so he asks about them and learns that it’s another of Bradley’s hobbies.

When they’re finished he follows Bradley back to the kitchen, notices it’s much quieter, almost dark outside and there’s no more barking and he looks around, suddenly anxious.

“She’s just over there…” Bradley says, his lips twitching with a smile and Jake’s not sure if he’s laughing at him or… oh. That’s fucking cute. Brisket is curled up on Brewster, she’s somehow managed to climb up the almost mountain like body and curl up on top of him. He grabs his phone and snaps a photo, and then a few more because one is never going to be enough.

“She’s all tuckered out… You going to wake her up?”

Jake looks up at Bradley’s tone, and his eyes are hooded and Jake feels an immediate jolt of arousal spark through him.

“No… she looks far too comfortable. Think I need to go to bed too…”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. Show me the way…”

… … …

They’ve not talked about what they’re doing, not in the actual physical and practical sense. Not in terms of sex and he’s definitely been raised in a house with the rule of if you can’t talk about it you shouldn’t be doing it. Which actually only goes so far when you really don’t want to share details of your sex life with your surrogate parents, or hear anything about theirs. He does agree in principle though, and there’s only one way to find out. Conversation hasn’t been difficult between them so he doesn’t expect this to be awkward either. He shifts slightly so he can rest his head on his hand while his other hand runs up and down from Jake’s shoulder to his hip.

“Anything you don’t like?”

“Uh…”

“Anything you do like? Or prefer? I’m easy…”

“Lucky me.”

“Can I touch?”

“Yeah…course.”

Bradley lets his hand rub Jake’s cock through his underwear as he kisses him, enjoys the feel of Jake’s body moving against his hand, body and mouth. Jake’s free hand runs through the hair on his chest, then his shoulders, down his arm before there are blunt nails digging into his ass; then finally a large palm rubs his cock far too fleetingly to be anything more than a frustrating taste before it starts back at the beginning.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, look, if you do something I don’t like I’ll say something okay?”

“And if I do something you like?”

“Actually, you could work on that a little bit more…”

He kisses him hard then, grinds their hips together and palms an ass cheek in his hand, holding Jake tight against him.

“Yeah, fuck…”

He shifts, pushes Jake back to lie on his back and then straddles one of Jake’s thighs. He runs both hands down Jake’s naked chest, leans down to kiss him again, hands on either side of Jake’s shoulders. Jake looks good, is confident with it, Bradley can’t help but find it attractive. He shifts a little, Jake’s hands are all over, hips lifting up to try and rub against him and Bradley would tease him for being impatient but he is starting to feel the same.

Their breathing is getting shallower, and he kisses over Jake’s collar bone, licks a little into the slight dip in his clavicle and assumes it’s a little ticklish from the way Jake laughs a little. He runs a hand down Jake’s side, his mouth moving down his chest but his eyes are on Jake’s neck and mouth, muscles taut and mouth open as he breathes harshly. He’s clearly given up waiting for Bradley to pay attention to his dick, has his own hand rubbing himself, occasionally detouring to rub Bradley’s dick as well. He moves his mouth over Jake’s pectorals, sucks gently at one nipple, wanting to know if this is something Jake –

“Fucking hell,” Jake exclaims, body jerking up as if electrified and Bradley pulls back immediately.

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Do it again …”

Bradley grins and seals his mouth around his right nipple again and sucks, flicking his tongue over the harder nub of flesh in his mouth and Jake’s entire body arches again and Bradley can’t believe how good he looks. How good he feels.

“Fuck, why does that feel so good?”

“Lots of nerve endings…”

“It was a fucking rhetorical question…”

He snorts, lowers his mouth back and presses down with his lower body at the same time, wants to give something for Jake to grind against, push him toward climax. Jake is reading his body easily, his hips angling slightly to thrust against the juncture of his thigh and hip, hands both on Bradley’s lower back urging him closer, pulling him down and Bradley lets a little more of his weight press down. The moan Jake lets out is gratifying and he reaches a hand between them and presses harder, feels the dampness from where he’s leaking pre-come.

“Lube?”

“No, I like it a little, uh, rough… you go ahead though, if you want…”

“Nope, I’m all good…”

His lips are red and swollen and Bradley wants to make him look like this all the time. He runs a finger under the elastic of the underwear and then Jake’s hips are up and he shifts back and out of the way. Watches as Jake pushes them down and he can’t actually get them off with the way Bradley is half-kneeling over him, one thigh between Jake’s legs. He shuffles down the bed. Drags his hands down Jake’s legs, tugs the underwear off before moving back up, placing gentle kisses on knees, thighs and hips before he licks up the length of Jake’s cock, kisses the head and lets his moustache scrape against the skin gently. Jake is shifting, clearly wanting to move more but holding himself back and he’s got far too much control for Bradley’s liking.

He wraps his hand around Jake’s cock, a little firmer than he would usually, but Jake had said he likes it a little rough. He jerks it steadily, watches as Jake’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth opening in a silent gasp and he keeps going. It’s been a while, but he knows how to multitask and he wants to hear and see what will happen next. Knows getting Jake off is likely going to make him come as well. He settles his mouth over the same nipple he’d sucked before, and it’s a little pink, and he sucks again. The resulting words from Jake’s mouth are nonsensical in between loud gasps for air and what he recognizes as his name. He doesn’t say anything, can’t really, with his mouth busy sucking intently. His hand has sped up and he’s resting a fair bit of his weight on Jake’s leg, partly pinning Jake beneath him and his cock is hard and leaking. One of Jake’s hands is fisted in his hair, holding Bradley to his chest and then his whole body goes taut like a rubber band being stretched before it snaps back and then Jake is coming all over his hand and he gentles the sucking to more gentler licks and swirls of his tongue because it’s most likely going to be a little bruised.

“Ungh… fuck…”

He doesn’t bother moving very much, just shoves his own underwear down enough to take his cock in his hand and jerk himself off, hard and desperate to come, no need to try and make it last longer or hold back. He moves enough to kiss Jake and he feels a hand try to come and help him and while he appreciates the intent it isn’t something that is even a consideration right now, he’s too close and he doesn’t need much…

“Bradley…”

Yeah, that’ll do it. He comes with a groan, his come joining Jake’s on his stomach. He rests his forehead against Jake’s neck while he tries to steady his breathing. Their breathing is the only sound he can hear outside of his body, heartbeat pounding in his ears, waits a moment before he lets out a long shuddery breath and kisses Jake on the chin.

“You okay?”

“What’s that saying, ask a stupid question?”

“Get a stupid answer…”

“Yeah.”

He grabs some tissues, passes the box to Jake and they wipe themselves clean and he feels fantastic, hopes Jake feels similarly. He kisses him, takes the dirty tissues from his unresisting fingers and lies down beside him.

“Stupidly okay. You?”

“Yeah. That sounds about right. Damned good for a first run…”

“Mmm. Imagine what it will be like when we’ve got a few more test runs behind us.”

“Always room for improvement.”

“That’s very true… I’m just going to go and let the dogs out but I’ll be right back. If you wanted to stay that is?”

“Yeah, staying sounds good. Just… uh. Brisket normally sleeps on the bed with me.”

“Think she’s found a new bed.”

“Lucky for me I won’t be lonely I guess.”

Bradley grins.

… … …

2 MONTHS LATER

He’s running a little late, but not by a lot. He’s messaged both Jake and Mav to say he’s running a bit behind due to a surgery requiring a bit more time. He walks into the restaurant and spies them sitting at a booth near the back, tells the hostess he’s with them and raises his hand in greeting as Mav is standing to give him a hug.

“Bradley!”

“Hey Mav, good to see you,” Bradley says, returning the tight embrace.

“Good to see you too. You’re looking good. This is… Jake.”

Bradley leans down and gives Jake a kiss, takes his time and licks into his mouth.

“Hi.”

“I hope you don’t meet everyone that way…”

“Only my boyfriend Mav,” Bradley says, laughing. “You didn’t tell him?” he asks Jake.

“Nope, one of my joys in life is keeping him on his toes,” Jake says, grinning at them both as they sit. Mav is rolling his eyes and huffing, but Bradley can tell he’s a little pleased. At least he knows now why Bradley really didn’t care about him inviting someone else along to dinner.

“How long has this been going on?” Mav asks, looking between them with interest.

“Couple of months,” Bradley provides.

“You move fast,” Mav says to Jake dryly.

“What can I say? I know a good thing when I see one.”

“Plus Brisket loves me.”

“She does have exceptional taste.”

“Much like her owner. Although don’t you get the names mixed up? Brisket, Bradley and Brewster? There’s definitely a theme there…”

Jake blinks, looks at Bradley and he just shrugs.

“We could get a couple more pets and name them Brownie and Bruno and you’d have the whole set.”

Jake laughs, eye brow quirks;

“Sounds like a plan.”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU where Bradley is not a Naval Aviator

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farfromstrange · 7 months

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the grudge | Matt Murdock x Reader

PART 4 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You think back on your relationship with your father after his death, and Matt is there to put some things into perspective and take care of you.

Warnings: Angst, 100% self-indulgent (this fic is the definition of that word), death of a parent, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), song fic, conflicting emotions, hints at child abuse (mostly emotional), and everything that comes with it

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: I was sad and angry when I wrote this. Growing older, I started realizing that the things my father did when I was a child shaped me, and that it will always stand between us. And when I heard Olivia's song "the grudge" for the first time, it hit me hard. So, this is how this fic came to be. Some of you may identify with this and recognize some of the feelings I've worked through with this. It may also trigger you, so please proceed with caution.

His favorite flowers were peonies.

It’s a detail you’re not quite sure why you chose to remember.

You can’t remember the last time he put in the effort to remember one of your favorites—because he never listened. Everything you once told him entered one ear and came out the other without processing your words. If he simply wasn’t capable of feeling empathy or if he chose not to because you were “too complicated,” you’re not sure. You’re not even sure if you want to know.

Well, even if you did, it’s too late now.

His favorite flowers were peonies, and yet, staring at his gravestone now, you wonder how a person can call a flower that resembles love and happiness their favorite and be incapable of those very same emotions at the same time.

He never loved you. At some point, he stopped telling you. You got older, and you realized that fighting for a relationship that has been broken from the start is of no use. When someone can’t love you back, it’s not worth it to love them. The disappointment will only break you. That is what you have tried telling yourself for years, but where he lacked empathy, you’ve always had too much of it, and you quickly realized that you are incapable of hating him to the extent you wish you did.

Still, even though you can’t hate him, you do resent him. You resent him for never caring the same way you saw other children being loved. You resent him for not sticking around. For not remembering the most essential details about you. For not putting in more effort. For not believing in you when you needed it most. For replacing you. For hurting your mother. For hurting you. There are many reasons you could hate the man who called himself your father, but you still can’t hate him. He failed you when you were just a child, and you still can’t hate him. What does that say about you? Resenting someone while you still love them; is that even possible? Or is it just the confusion that consumes you?

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to grieve the death of someone you once claimed you wouldn’t miss when he died, but it does hurt. It hurts, and you hate it.

Just because he was dead to you doesn’t make this twisted love you have for him go away, you realize that now. And now that he is actually dead, you’re not sure where to with yourself. Or your anger. Or your resentment.

You wonder if you should have done more to get closure before he died. You wonder if there would have been any way to salvage what was broken between you if you both had just tried a little harder. But you were a child, and then you grew into a broken adult, and you did all you could have done. The blame is normal, someone told you once. It gets better though. It is supposed to get better.

If it’s supposed to get better though, why does it still hurt so damn much?

The gravel next to your scrunches underneath a second set of boots. A hand finds your own. It’s larger, more calloused than your own.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly.

He knows how badly it hurts to lose a parent. The only difference is that his father treated him well for the first nine years of his life before he died.

You wonder if your father was even just a little sorry or if he simply didn’t realize how shitty his behavior was, even though many people have told him over the years.

You blink, the tears in your eyes an all too familiar companion. “Yeah,” you lie. “I’m fine.”

Your heartbeat doesn’t waver, but he still knows you’re lying.

The man who was supposed to love you the most in this world did little to show you that. Matt is the first man who has ever shown you unconditional love and known you in a way that you can’t possibly put into words. Your father was insecure, too insecure to love you in the way you were supposed to be loved, and in the process of trying to survive through his struggles, he scarred you for life.

He wrapped his hand around your heart and broke it without realizing it.

“You know, I tried to understand why he treated me like he did,” your voice tears through the silence in a monotone line.

Matt’s head tilts in your direction. “Some people are very insecure and unhappy with themselves,” he says. It’s more of a matter-of-fact statement, but he says it with such sincerity that it hits you right in your feelings.

“I know that, but–”

He cuts you off. He knows you blame yourself. You say you don’t, but every time you do, you’re lying. He knows you’re lying. “When a parent is like that, the person who is the least to blame for any of it is their child,” Matt tells you. “You were just a child, sweetheart.”

No matter how hard you try, you can’t let it go.

“I think…” You take a deep breath. “I think he wanted a baby, not a child. And when I grew up, and he realized I wasn’t as easy as he wanted me to be, he thought removing himself from the narrative would fix everything,” you say. Your voice is still monotone.

He doesn’t deserve your tears. Still, you cry. You can’t help but cry because, in a way, you loved him, and now that he’s dead, it hurts.

In silence, there is suffering, and in suffering there is always at least an ounce of unresolved anger. In your case, it is a lot more. And you don't have the strength to fight or forgive. You’re not there yet, and you probably won’t ever get there. Some people make it look easy, but closure and moving on from the agony of your childhood is harder than it may sound.

Another heavy breath leaves your lips. It weighs like a ton of bricks and drags the mood further down. “I don’t like holding grudges.” The cold wind whips you across the face.

“I know.” Matt squeezes your hand in his.

“I can’t not hold it against him,” you continue. “We were both hurt, and hurt people hurt people, but…those cuts were never equal.”

He shakes his head. When you’re losing yourself in this sea of emotions that you don’t quite understand yet, he’s there to help you keep your head above water. He’s there to help you breathe when it gets a little too hard. And he’s there to be your common sense because yours doesn’t work as well as it used to.

“You have every right to hold a grudge. He made you believe that you aren’t worthy of love,” he says. “Yes, hurt people hurt people, but that doesn’t make it okay that he hurt you in a way no child should ever be hurt.”

He has a way of bringing you down to earth. Your father sucked at talking about what he was feeling or thinking; he sucked at finding the right words because he hardly ever believed in them. He made you believe that you weren’t worthy of love—emphasis on weren’t. When Matt came around, all of that changed. Now, you do believe you are worthy of love. His love, anyway.

Though every time you think you’re not enough, his voice—your father’s voice—is still there. You can’t escape him, even now that he is dead. He will always live rent-free in your mind, and the damage he caused will always affect the way you see things.

“I love you,” Matt’s gentle voice breaks through the fog like a siren’s song. “He was wrong about so many things, and I think he died knowing that by not trying hard enough, he lost you a long time ago.”

Your teary eyes are mirrored in his glasses, finally looking up at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but there is a small smile playing on his lips. “There is nothing that can make this better, but there is a fine line between love and hate. You can’t let it destroy you.”

It’s true. You don’t want to turn into the bitter one. If you do, you are no better than him, and you will never know what it is like to be free.

You wipe your cheeks. “I want to go home,” your wish is clear in the crispy morning air.

Matt tugs you closer to him. “Okay,” his lips press to your temple, “let’s go home.”

Matt Murdock Angst Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock angst #hurt/comfort #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #reader insert #from the vault #charlie cox #the grudge #song fic

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cinnbar-bun · 5 months

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Important Message

So... haha... been almost a month since I really did anything on this blog...

Listen, I'm gonna keep it straight to you guys, the months leading up to my hiatus were, to put it mildly, some of the most disgusting I've seen in my years as a fanfic writer and fandom enjoyer. This is a bit of a vent post, because, well, genuinely, I really hope the fandom can get better. I'm assuming most of the bad experiences I've had came through people a bit younger/newer to fandom or tumblr/fanfic culture in general. If you want just an update on the blog, I will be posting that shortly after this one.

I'm going to list out some of the shit I had to go through (that I am sure many fanfic writers, but more specifically, POC fandom creators go through). This is a long post. Yeah, also, this is obvious but TW FOR: Racism (including slurs), Islamaphobia, sexism, death threats, suicide threats, harassment, and just flat out horrible behavior.

I'm gonna go list some of the slurs I've been messaged or called, I'll even rate them for you guys <3:

Camel jockey: oooo, haven't heard that one before. get more creative, 3/10

camel fucker: nice, bit more crass, still not original. 3.5/10, just a bit funny

Terrorist: wow, dude, oh my gosh, I can't believe I've never heard that one living in post 9/11 America! Wow! 0/10 try harder

I also don't know where the assumption came from that I was a hijabi... I am not. Calling me a BMO? Pretty unique but sadly does not fit me. :(/10

This barely scratches the surface of what I have dealt with after having been open about my heritage. I'm sorry my very existence offends you and requires you to come out and send me shit about hoping my family dies or that my favorite character brutally hurts me. I have read your messages, and after long consideration, I have decided to no longer be Middle Eastern. Yep, that's right, guys, I am no longer MENA! Don't worry about my family history or anything, I just choose not to be that anymore. There, now you don't have to send me messages about hoping my family gets killed <3

Let's see what else we should tackle.

Should I tackle the fact that I've gotten messages from others to update a fic or answer a request or they will try to self harm or commit suicide?

Should I tackle the fact that some have tried to pressure or guess my sexuality (dude, what the fuck)?

Should I tackle how I got messages from others assuming my place because of my religion?

Should I tackle how I've gotten weird ass messages from people getting mad at me because how DARE I not write certain things during Ramadan?

Should I tackle those things?

I'll save you the hassle, no, I really shouldn't have had to, but fact is, the One Piece fandom has to be some of the worst I've seen and interacted with purposefully in a long time. And I was in the Hetalia fandom way back when. I should not have dumb shit about "liberating" me or oh, oh, oh, I love this one! People asking me if I have 'full armament haki' (I hope you genuinely, genuinely, get the fuck off your phone and go outside. Maybe have a walk and go talk to actual people.)

I've met some genuinely lovely, beautiful, and kind people. They truly are some of the most talented creators I've seen, and I'm grateful they chose to befriend me. The good does outweigh the bad. But the bad? Oh lord, I think you guys are genuinely some of the most disgusting pieces of shits I've ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Fanfic writers are not your slaves. I have a full time job, I have a full time life outside of my tumblr and my writing. I write when I want to because I like to write, and fanfic is a good creative outlet. You sending dumb messages crying about no updates after four days of me posting a new chapter, or threatening to harm yourself because of this is disgusting.

POC creators, especially, are not your fucking tokens. I'm not here to break down every racial stereotype for you. I'm not here to be sitting there mocked with crap I already hear in my outside life. And I sure as HELL am not here for fake support only to be called slurs and mocked the minute I don't do something for you. You are gross, you are not funny, you are genuinely a horrible person and if your ideal vision of humor boils down to the Instagram comments section, all I'm saying is, I'm not wishing you anything positive.

If you read this far, thank you. Truly. This was difficult to place and write down, but it needed to be said, because even to this day I still get messages similar to before.

Do better, One Piece fandom. Do better. Because you are only going to lose the fans who really care and who put effort into making things. How far can you harass fanfic creators, and especially POC ones, with your bullshit before you lose out on things?

I don't need to 'move on'. My identity and my existence is on a completely separate wave than so and so idk, liking a ship or a character. One is fake, and one is literally who I am. Putting false equivalencies to the issues within fandom because it makes you 'sad' is shitty.

I've only given you an idea of what I had to deal with. Now imagine this constantly by random people, both on tumblr and AO3, and then imagine that also in your daily life, on the media, in the news, in the music, on the radio, in the books- fucking everywhere. It's exhausting.

Just... fucking do better. Actually fucking listen to POC. I got nothing else to add that wouldn't just be me repeating the same shit I and others have tried to say.

Just be kind, for gods sake, and remember that creators are human, not the silly avatars we choose.

#rambles #important notice #tw racsim #tw sexism #tw slur #tw islamophobia

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moonlitkilljoy · 4 months

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michie ficrecs!

hi!! i saw @24-guy asking for michie fic recs for what to reread and figured i’d just post the fic rec list i made for my friends :-) i’m making my own post because it has some fics written by 24-guy and i’d feel really weird recommending those directly to zem, but i figured someone else might also be interested fjdjfnd

i've split this list into completed fics and ongoing fics for your viewing pleasure, otherwise they're in no particular order :] let me know if there's any mistakes or misattributions, i didn't get anyone to proof read this for me before posting ^^;

enjoy!

COMPLETED:

Max Jagerman's Socks by lab_trash / @lab-trash

"Max's socks start getting interesting, to the point where people actually notice. They don't even look like stuff he'd own, really."

~4k words, 1 chapter, rated T; pure fluff, 5+1 things, a really cute and cozy secret relationship fic

Dangling from the edge by Olive_of_Vanders / @oliveofvanders

"On that fateful day at the Waylon place, a certain weeb saved the bully."

~1.5k words, 1 chapter, rated T; richie saves max's life at the waylon place, plus bonus points for the uncle paul headcanon :] i actually stumbled upon this while trying to remember which fics i’ve been meaning to rec but it's VERY good so i just had to include it

Near Death Panick by lab_trash / @lab-trash

"Max and Richie panic when Max almost dies and they forget they aren't alone."

~2.5k words, 1 chapter, rated G; richie saves max's life at the waylon place, with added secret relationship <3 a delight to read

Hatchetfield's Finest Breadsticks by KairiTheMango / @kairithemang0

"Richie was unsure if he regretted agreeing to be Max's Algebra tutor just yet, however out of the kindness of his heart (and deep down his desire to spend more time with him) he chose to take the job. How hard could it be really? Just a few hours of extra math, it wouldn't hurt anyone."

~1.5k words, 1 chapter, rated G; a short and sweet tutoring fic!!! real neat

class of 2021 by hatchetscandal

"living it, ten years were just that—ten long years. but looking back, ten years is simply the blink of an eye. or the hatchetfield high school class of 2021 is celebrating their ten year reunion, and things have changed drastically in that time."

~4k words, 1 chapter, rated T; cute future class-reunion fic :]

Michie short series - What the fuck happened last night by bonezthewriter

"Richie wakes up in the bed of Max Jagerman one fateful day. Follow them as they develop their relationship; and themselves."

series: ~5.5k words total, 4 works (4 chapters total), no ratings except for the last work (rated T); possible cw for misunderstandings of a somewhat sexual nature, nothing actually happens but they sure do convince themselves it did

Lost and Found by 24_GUY / @24-guy

"A Canon Divergent AU with Michie secret dating and a lot of suffering for Richie. (Less suffering in the sequel, I'm determined to have a happy ending.)"

series: ~21.5k words total, 2 works (18 chapters total), all works rated T; hurt/comfort + secret relationship, THIS ONE IS SO GOOD. it explores richie’s grief at losing max in a really interesting way and then manages to work in a happy ending <3 cw/tw for detailed depictions of the different stages of grief (especially depression)

cause i can’t help it if you look like an angel by pixelprotag / @milgram

"max finds a pretty cool cosplayer online. halloween rolls around, and it turns out he goes to his school."

~1.5k words, 1 chapter, rated T; a really cute fic surrounding the idea of richie doing cosplay, plus another win for "paul is richie's uncle" truthers :P

Paul Matthews and his many children by ThatStar_Guy

"Paul acquires his first adopted son when his sister kicks out his nephew, Richie, because of his sexuality. Richie goes to Paul for help, and he and Emma are glad to provide it. He acquires his second adopted son when Tom perishes in an explosion. Tim, having no other family, comes to live with them. He acquires his first unofficial son when Pete starts spending every day at his house. He acquires his first unofficial daughter when Ruth also spends every minute at his house. He acquires his second unofficial daughter when Grace starts dating Ruth. He acquires his first blood daughter with Emma when they are 32. He acquires his first son in law when Richie marries Max at 20. He acquires his first unofficial daughter in law when Pete marries Steph at 22. He acquires his first grandchild when Richie and Max adopt at 24. He acquires his first and second unofficial grandkids when Pete and Steph are 25."

~3k words, 1 chapter, rated G; a "paul is richie’s uncle” fic taken to the extreme in the absolute BEST way possible. mostly paul centric and focused on paul/emma, with background richie/max, grace/ruth, and pete/steph as far as ships go. THIS ONE IS OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITES!!! lots of Black Friday references

r/TrueOffMyChest by lab_trash / @lab-trash

"I (21m) am in love with my roommate and former bully victim (20m)"

~3k words, 1 chapter, rated G; future fic, in-universe reddit post format. this ones clever and addresses just how shitty Max was in highschool

Maybe We Can Find A Home Here by 24_GUY / @24-guy

"Max confides in Ruth once, and gets a family out of it."

~3k words, 1 chapter, rated T; a really cute ruth and max friendship fic. words cannot express how much i adore it :3

UNFINISHED:

Won't you pray for me? by Whowillprayforyou / @whowillprayforyou

"Max Jägerman is as straight as a board, as per the norm with being who he is. King of the school, Star quarterback. He's got one weakness, Repressed nerds, and thankfully Grace chasity isn't letting up any time soon. Imagine his surprise when his focus shifts to a different not so repressed nerd, after a life changing event. Even more shocking, said nerd is Richard Lipschitz."

~17k words, 5 chapters, no rating as of posting; richie saves max’s life at the waylon house, slow burn ensues <3 i'm literally obsessed with this one

Zeek: The Fighting Nighthawk by lab_trash / @lab-trash

"Max strikes up conversation with their school mascot without knowing who's under the costume. Richie just goes with it, even through that massive anxiety… which fades so quickly for some reason. He learns so much about Max, and he'd never seen him so relaxed before. It's not so bad."

~9k words, 4 chapters, rated T as of posting; secret identity shenaniganery >:] I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH. it's probably one of my favorite npmd fics. plus, this one has the “trevor is richie’s twin” headcanon in a really prominent way which the author executes really well

Car Lights by 24_GUY / @24-guy

"When Richie takes Amanda - his best friend's daughter and his goddaughter - to the grocery store to fill their day, he least expects to run into Max Jägerman of all people."

~36k words, 18 chapters, rated T as of posting; future fic with background steph/pete and some really sweet ruth and max friendship moments :3 I FUCKING ADORE THIS ONE!!! another great twin headcanon piece as well. it should be noted that i've been a dancer for 15 years and this is somewhat of a dancer au, so i may be biased

Beanies by lab_trash / @lab-trash

"As soon as Max turned 16, his father began berating him to get a job so he could pay rent for his room. Actually, that’s a lie. It started a couple weeks before he turned 16. To “give him time.” He actually expected Max to have a job as soon as he was 16. It wasn’t so bad at first, since he didn’t have school and he could manage his part-time job and whatever sport practice he had going on at that time. But once the school year started… Max was always a bully. But in his junior year, he became a literal monster. OR: Max works at Beanies and accidentally sort of makes friends with a regular customer who just happens to be a nerd."

~16k words, 9 chapters, rated G as of posting; paul is richies uncle and theres a background focus on paul/emma. probably my all time favorite michie fic— lotta well thought out references to the other musicals. i've been rereading at least part of it every day for the last couple days, its just that good

thanks for reading!!

feel free to drop into my ask box to talk about any of these or just hatchetfield stuff in general ^w^ have a lovely day/night

#benny beeps #fic recs #michie #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #richie lipschitz #npmd richie #max jagerman #max jägerman #npmd max #also does anyone know where my phone is. i cant find it :(#UPDATE: FOUND MY PHONE. 30 minutes later BUT I FOUND IT

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