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chiriwritesstuff · 4 months

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The Girl in IT - 2. Off to the Races

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Previous Chapter │ The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful." "The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration." "and the carnations?" "For fascination and enchantment." "Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?" He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Joel Miller is hungry and wants to EAT, Smut, One massive Tess sized-cockblock, Boss x Employee relationship, Time Jumping to and fro, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, Joel jumps right in, Explicit language, Did I mention smut?, Soft boy Joel Miller

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: You GUYS. YOU GUYS (!!!!!)

Thank you so much for all of the love for the first chapter of my silly little series with my even sillier Old Man Joel and his Sugar. I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the likes, reblogs, and comments from all of you, it really means a lot to me! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I have the first few chapters written and planned out, and I hope to post at least a new chapter once a week. I can't make any promises as I go back to work next week, but I will try. I apologize in advance if I skip a week, it is not my intention to let you guys down.

I hope you all enjoy!

Today.

[Hey Sugar, are you in your office right now?]

Yes, did you need something, Mr. Miller?

[Yes, actually, I do. I'll come to you, don't leave!]

A knock on the door startles you.

"Hey, Sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Have you seen Joel? I know he said he had to ask you about something, but that was an hour ago-"

"Yeah?" you reply, almost in a whine, your head tipped back in pleasure as you try to muffle a scream. "Joel? No, haven't seen him around. No, not since this—"

There's a pause, and then Tommy's voice comes again, this time with a hint of amusement. "Still wrestling with his laptop, huh? The man can't even change his wallpaper without causing a crisis. I'll check his usual spots. If you see him, tell him Tess needs him in her office, pronto."

Just then, the muted sound of a cough under your desk catches your attention. You look down to find Joel, crouched beneath the desk with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Now, where were we?" he chuckles, his eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint.

“Joel!” You smack him playfully as you roll your desk chair back. “Tess will have your head if you don’t show up soon!”

“But I’m starving, baby! Just let me have a little snack-“ he pulls your chair back to him as he situates himself under your desk, lifting your skirt as he smiles at the sight of your barely-there scrap of lace one would call underwear. “Shit baby, is this for me?” He lowers his head to your aching cunt, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you closer to his mouth. He rubs the tip of his nose along your slit, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips. He licks at your covered mound, the tip of his tongue adding just enough pressure for you to gasp out in pleasure. “I asked you a question, baby girl. Who did you wear these panties for?”

“You,” you say breathily, covering your mouth to muffle up your moans as he plants kisses along your thighs. “You, Mr. Miller. Only you.”

“Who owns this pretty pussy?”

"You do, Sir."

"Damn right, I do." Joel licks his lips as he pushes your panties aside, licking your clit. "Fuck, she's aching for me, isn't she?" He locks his eyes with yours, his mouth hovering over your pussy. "Can I?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to keep quiet.

Joel shakes his head, displeased with your answer. "No baby, use your words-" he growls, nipping at your thighs as you wince in pain.

"PLEASE Joel, keep going!" He smiles at your eagerness, licking and parting your folds with his tongue. He pins you against his face, tightening his hold on you as your body trembles.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet-"

"JOEL!" Tess's voice reverberates through the hallway, the urgency evident in her heavy-footed approach, each step echoing past your office door. "Has anyone seen him?!"

Joel lets out an exasperated groan, his head dropping onto your lap as you suppress a giggle. "Duty calls, Mr. Miller. Can't keep your boss waiting, can you?"

"I am the boss, just so you're clear on that."

"Sure, Joel, keep telling yourself that."

Joel crawls out from under your desk with a grunt, stumbling onto the carpet with a thud. "I'm definitely too old for this shit," he mutters, trying to regain his footing.

"It's your list, Mr. Miller. You make the rules, I just help you execute it," you quip, smirking as you extend a hand to help him up.

He takes your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He yanks you towards him, and you end up falling into his lap. "Right where I want you," he smirks, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You smile as he starts to kiss along your jaw. "You are insatiable."

"Only for you, Sugar."

"JOEL, FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Tess bellows from across the building.

"You better go before she breaks down all the doors," you wince as you give him a small frown. "Again."

Joel sighs, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. "Fine, but once I'm done with Ms. Pain in my ass-"

"You're going to go back to work like a good boy?" you reply sweetly, straightening out your skirt as Joel heads towards the door. He gives you one last glance as he turns the doorknob, a hungry look on his face.

"This isn't over, baby girl. When I come back, I expect to eat."

Ten years earlier.

"Joel! Tommy! Thank you so much for coming! Please, come in, come in!"

Joel straightens up and smooths out his flannel, nervously fiddling with his tool belt slung taut on his hips. He gives a curt nod to the client, turning to his side expecting to find Tommy next to him. His eyes narrow at the empty space. "Tommy, you fuck," he hissed under his breath at his brother, who was casually smoking a cigarette off to the side of the client's perfectly manicured lawn. "Put that out and stop fucking around, we're getting paid for this shit!"

Tommy takes a long drag, exhaling a long plume of smoke before flicking the cigarette onto the street. "This is small-time shit, Joel. We should be playing with the big dogs, not wasting our time doing residential work. How much was the bid?"

"20."

"Bullshit. This is no more than 5, and you know it. It's just a fucking scorched roof, and at only one side, it's not even a complete replacement."

Joel scoffs at his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Have you seen the size of this fucking house? We're in fucking Westlake Hills, for fucks sake. Think of the potential! Maybe we can convince them to replace the entire roof, replace their windows... fuck, I just want to make a good impression!"

"Oh, so is that why you're dressed like a fucking moron? Cowboy boots? Really? You're 46, not 26." he appraises him as he makes his way towards the front of the house. "Don't tuck in your shirt, man. I can see your fucking beer belly from here!" Tommy looks towards the front door, the client having already retreated into the home. He cocks his head and whispers to his older brother. "Is the wife hot? Shit. Maybe I should have run a comb through my hair-"

"They want this project done in a month."

Tommy whips his head towards Joel. "Are you fucking KIDDING ME? JOEL-"

"Boys!" The client's voice cuts through the building tension between the brothers, a sweet conspiratory smile on her face. "Are you coming?" She looks out into the distance beyond the brothers, a big smile blooming across her face. "Oh, Sugar! come and meet the boys who are fixing up the roof, you know, the side where your antenna thing exploded?" She beckons to the figure who was suddenly behind them, motioning her to join their conversation.

She's a sweet little thing, Joel muses, all nerves and jitters like a baby calf attempting to walk for the first time. So fucking cute, he thinks to himself. You were dressed for the brutality of the Austin summer, with barely there cut-off shorts and a tiny white baby tee, the sweat forming on your skin wetting the thin fabric, and if Joel looked hard enough, he swears he saw the outline of your nip-"

"Baby," the client rings out, forcing Joel to look away in embarrassment, a blush forming on his neck all the way up to his face. "You remember Joel Miller, the contractor we ran into in the mall?"

"Yeah. I remember. Hi, Mr. Miller."

You cringed as you approached, your head downcast as you awkwardly reached your overbearing mother. "Tommy, come and meet my daughter, we call her Sugar, because she's so sweet! She's back home from UT Dallas, she's working her way up to her master's in IT! We're all so proud of-"

"Mom," you whine, glaring at the ground as you shift around uncomfortably. "I don't think they care about what I'm doing at school."

"Don't be silly, Sugar," the mom chided with a dismissive wave. "These fine gentlemen surely appreciate a smart, capable woman, right, Joel? Tommy?"

Joel, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected introduction, nodded with a friendly smile. "Absolutely, ma'am. Education is valuable, and we're glad to have such esteemed company. It's hard enough to go through earning your bachelor's, I'm sure it's hell trying to navigate trying to get your masters!" Joel clears his throat as he gives her a nervous smile. "You look great, by the way. You look well rested, I reckon this break is doing you some good."

Tommy, giving Joel an amused look, chimed in. "Smart is the new sexy, Sugar. Nothing to be shy about. I agree," Tommy winks at his brother as his smile widens at Joel's nervous shuffling. "Joel sure likes them smart and capable, alright."

You blushed, still uncomfortable with the attention. "Well, uh, nice to meet you, Tommy, and it's nice to see you again, Joel," You mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Pleasure to see you again too, Sugar," Joel replies.

Tommy chokes on nothing as he witnesses his brother taking the girl's hand in his, placing a soft kiss on it.

"Oh, brother of mine," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at seeing how smitten his brother was for you. "For fucks sake, what the hell am I going to do with you?"

Six Months and One Week ago.

"Sugar? Is that you?"

You turn towards the deep voice, smiling at the body that it's coming from. "Mr. Miller, it's nice to see you again. Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"I heard from your mother that you got that Masters, I'm proud of you, girlie."

"Oh," you stammer, "It was nothing-"

"Don't do that," Joel says with a frown, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Do what?" you ask, matching his frown as he steps towards you. You can't help but gasp at his sudden boldness. You keep your hands glued to your sides, willing yourself to not reach out to his chest. You forgot just how much he affected you, even if it's been a decade since you've seen him last. He's older, sure, with strands of grey peppered throughout his curly hair... but he's different too, the remnants of his boyish charm morphing into something harder, more rugged, more broad. You tremble under his scrutiny. You force yourself to meet his heavy gaze. "Do what?" you repeat out louder, your voice getting caught in your throat as you push an errant strand of hair away from your face.

"You shouldn't downplay yourself like that. Earning something like your Master's is a big deal, don't sell yourself short like that, okay?"

You grant him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel, satisfied with your answer, nods. "Want to grab a cup of coffee with me?"

Six Months Ago.

"Are you sure she's good? Joel! Are you fucking listening?" Tess snaps, her fingers snapping for emphasis as Joel jolts in surprise. "It says here that she's been working at the Geek Squad for the last eight years; that's hardly enough experience to run an entire department—"

"She has her masters in Management Information Systems from UT Dallas, and the person who vouched for her-"

"Yeah, her mother? If she's as old as you, I highly doubt she can grasp what we need... what are we doing Joel? Are we just letting little old rich ladies headhunt for us now? I don't need no privileged priss in some ball gown running IT, we're a multi-million dollar company-"

"... who didn't even have a decent IT department in the first place, and now that Gloria is retiring, shit, Tess-" Joel runs his hands through his hair as he groans in frustration. "... she's better than everyone else we've interviewed, hell- at least we know that she's a lifer, being that she's worked for minimum wage at Best Buy for almost a decade! We have a chance to bring someone in to help out with the draftsmen, shit, she's even proficient in Revit! Tess, level with me: with her knowing that 3D modeling shit - we need her! More than she needs us!"

"So it's not that you want to fuck her, then?" Tess rolls her eyes as she throws your resume on his desk. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned your little high school crush on her, it's funny, you conveniently forgot to mention that-"

"Tess, don't."

"So if we decide to hire her, I won't catch you fucking her in your office? Her office? The conference room, the supply closet..." She glares at him, tipping her head back as she pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"For fucks sake Tess, are we hiring her or not?"

Tess rises from her seat, running her hands down her slacks to straighten them, and gives Joel one last glance. With a half-smile, she shakes her head as she heads toward the door. "I'll email her an offer. If she takes it, she takes it... But, I will be starting her off at our base pay."

Joel nods, suppressing the urge to beam as much as he'd like. "That's fine."

"Oh? And Joel?" She pivots back to Joel, hand on the doorknob. "I didn't hear a no. If I catch you guys in my office, I will fucking castrate you, you hear?"

Two weeks ago.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: About that list...

11:30 am (30 min ago)

Sugar,

Thanks for saving my ass last night. The meeting with The H Hotel went off with a hitch and Tess was none the wiser for my little mishap... no harm, no foul, right? Right.

About earlier today, when you said "Let's do this", was that a "Yes, maybe?" or a "Yes, definitely?" because I would very much like to do this, with you, at your pace, of course. I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm just fucking excited, you know? You have no idea how much I've wanted to talk to you back then... I let shit get into my head, you know? Fuck. I'm rambling.

Thank you for giving me a chance, Sugar. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it worth your while.

Joel

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: RE: About that list...

11:45 am (0 min ago)

Yes, definitely. Yes to all of it.

When do you want to start?

One week ago.

[Hey Sugar, are you busy?]

Not at the moment, I'm about to clock out for lunch, what's up? Did you click on a phishing link again?

[Sugar, have a little faith! Say, I'm about to head out to lunch too, meet me in the parking lot in 5?]

That's rather forward and presumptuous of you, Mr. Miller. What if I had already brought lunch from home? What if I was looking forward to eating my adult lunchable?

[What the hell is an adult lunchable? It sounds terrible! What if I take you to that little Sushi joint down the road? Would that be enough to convince you to come out with me? I'll let you snack on the lunchable on the way there.]

Hey! Don't knock my charcuterie! Also, Doesn't that "little sushi joint" have a two-month waiting list? It's impossible to get in! I thought that it was only open for dinner?

[Baby, don't you know that we built that restaurant? Masayoshi is a good friend of mine, and he owes me a favor. All it takes is one call, what do you say? Nothing's impossible for my Sugar.]

Nothing's impossible for my Sugar. Sugar. My Sugar. You read Joel's message over and over again, your stomach growling as you contemplate the current state of your life. If someone had told you six months ago that you would manage to not only crawl your way out of the depths of Geek Squad hell, snag a decent job, and catch the eye of your hot-as-fuck boss, you would have laughed in their face at how ridiculous that sounded. It is ridiculous - how one little mistake led to having everything you could have possibly wanted out of your minuscule life, hot man included. So what if you haven't had a serious relationship since college? It's not like you were with your ex long enough for you to go all the way, and even then, you weren't remotely even into him, he was too skinny and nerdy and didn't scream 'man' at all. His nervous laughter and awkward shaking did nothing for you. Joel, on the other hand- now that was a man. A man you wouldn't mind climbing like a tree, all thick and firm and sturdy...

[Sugar? You still there? Are we doing this or not?]

You snap out of your daydreaming, your decision already being made. Your hands shake as you type out your response, your fingers striking the keys with a finality that you never would have thought you would ever have the courage for. Well, you think to yourself as you press enter. Here goes nothing...

I'll be right there. See you soon.

[That's my good girl.]

"Hey, Sugar," Joel greeted with a playful grin from the driver's seat of his F-150, his arm casually resting on the open window. His eyes lingered on you as if savoring the moment. "Hop in, Masayoshi is heading over to the restaurant now."

You rolled your eyes with a teasing smirk as you approached the passenger side, clamoring into the cab with a bit of awkward grace. "Just like that? A single call to your chef friend, and he drops everything to cater to your every whim? Color me impressed, Mr. Miller."

Joel chuckled. "Well, what can I say? I am sort of a big deal." He reached for your hand across the center console, fingers intertwining, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Is this okay, Sugar?" He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a delightful flutter in your stomach. Turning your head away, you mumbled, "It's very okay, Mr. Miller."

"Now, what did I tell you?" Joel teased, a glint in his eyes. "It's Joel, none of this Mr. Miller nonsense. Save that for when we're crossing off items on my list, alright?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks as Joel's easy charm and forwardness caught you off guard. "You're going to be the death of me, Joel," you quipped, half-jokingly, half-serious, unsure how to navigate the sudden closeness. The air in the truck seemed to hum with a subtle tension, and you wondered if Joel could sense the rapid beating of your heart.

Joel's gaze held a playful sparkle, and he grinned. "Well, Sugar, I hope it's a good way to go." He revved the engine, and the truck rumbled to life as he pulled out onto the road.

"So, Sugar, tell me something interesting about yourself," his fingers tapping the steering wheel to an imaginary beat.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, Joel, I like to teach myself new things, I have a British shorthair named Sir Bubbles, you know, because I was obsessed with Bridgerton, And, by the way, it's Mr. Miller only when executing things on your list, right?" you teased, recalling his earlier remark.

Joel shot you a sly grin. "Sharp memory, Sugar. You're catching on quickly."

As you neared the sushi restaurant, the conversation seamlessly transitioned to lighter topics. Joel shared stories about his work, and how it felt working with Tommy and Tess, and you found yourself drawn into his earnestness and honesty. The playful banter continued as Joel made his way towards the edge of town, your cheeks hurting from how easy it was to smile in his company.

Parking the truck, Joel turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. "Ready for some sushi and more of my irresistibly charming company, Sugar?"

You roll your eyes, feigning reluctance. "Oh, the charm? I don't know if I can handle it, Mr. Miller."

He grins, opening your door with a flourish. "Well, brace yourself, because it's coming."

As you step out, Joel pauses, reaching behind your seat. "Wait a sec," he says, unveiling what looks like the botanical equivalent of a small garden. "A little something to brighten up your day."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this part of the list?"

Joel chuckles. "Maybe."

You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful."

"The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration."

"and the carnations?"

"For fascination and enchantment."

"Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?"

He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

You playfully roll your eyes, holding the bouquet to your chest. "You're quite the charmer, Mr. Miller."

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, taking your hand as you both head towards the sushi restaurant. "After you, baby girl."

After lunch, you and Joel emerge to find the heavens have opened up, rain pouring down in sheets. Joel stops you in your tracks, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sincerity and mischief.

With a twinkle in his eye, he asks, "Mind if I tick off the first thing on my list?"

You smile, stepping closer to Joel as he tucks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the both of you soaked to the bone.

"Yes please, Mr. Miller."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

As always, dividers by @saradika-graphics

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mysticworks · 4 days

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One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader (Preview)

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S :

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. You both move on and pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child.

Preview. Full post release - 28th April * Stay Tuned

Drop a comment on this post to be added to taglist of full chapter

Lando’s POV:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away.

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance.

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile.

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over.

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient.

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place.

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

#ln4 #ln4 ang #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #formula 1 ang #formula one ang #formula one angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris x #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc

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syoddeye · 24 days

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reading recs

received an anon the other day that requested fic recs of all ratings, here's a big list of some of my favorites! definitely not exhaustive, definitely forgot people, and i am so sorry in advance for that. please mind the tags on these fics.

SNAFU by @adnauseum11

I've posted about SNAFU before. This is one of my comfort series. Excellent characterization of a retired John Price, navigating a relationship with one of his oldest friends.

Heavy Weighs the Crown by @sentientcave

Newer series, very yummy so far. I love Charlie's characterization of the 141 in this universe, and their writing is delectable.

Rugby AU by @sentientcave

Another banger from Charlie. Reader Ripper is also yummy. Something to snack on. To quote: "I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals."

Nobody by @391780

My gateway fic into Nikto. Without giving anything away, every chapter sends me into a short spiral. The most recent chapters have done heinous (affectionate) things to my brain.

Ursa Major by @the-californicationist

Have you ever been to Alaska? Ever wanted to visit? Honestly, read this fic and let Cali transport you there. Her ability to set the scene and bring it to life is un-fucking-matched. Doc (Reader) is a smart, confident reader-insert that feels like a real person.

Binders and Boyfriends by @pfhwrittes

Trans 141 and Trans Reader supremacy. Another comfort series from the wonderful Parker. Everything listed here is wonderful, but I have a major soft spot for P's Gaz-centric works.

Housemate!Gaz by @pfhwrittes

First, in this house, we hate Reader's roommate. Second, we are Widget fans. Third, could you fucking imagine opening the door and your new roommate was Kyle motherfucking Garrick? I'd faint.

Call of The Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy

Another newer series that put me on the edge of my seat. When I first saw that Tats was giving us my favorite fellas and putting them in Jurassic Park, ooooooh, I knew we were going to be spoiled rotten.

Wrong Number Right Day by @stuffireadandenjoy

"Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day." Reader's living the dream. Text Kyle Garrick and get cash money for rent? Very excited for more of this.

Price of Pegging by @gemmahale

Pegging and John Price. I could stop there, but I won't. Gemma nails the depiction of a submissive Captain Price. She also captures the dynamic of a couple trying something new extremely well, that gave me some fluffy feelings.

All of Gemma’s WIPs by @gemmahale

I've had the absolute privilege to read some previews of Gemma's work and the WORK and the DETAIL and the CHARACTERS are chef's kiss. Delicious. It's so difficult to pick just one. I love the Feywilds. Useful Girl. Call of the Wild. Do yourself a favor and spend some time in the tags.

Offer Me His Hunger by @kaadaaan

Something about a 141-er and a single mom that's gonna do it for me every time. In Offer Me His Hunger, it's Johnny, and Reader has no idea what she's in for. Jesus Christ, Kadan writes one of my favorite Johnnys, and really nails that obsessive and calculating streak.

The Space in Between by @391780

You will laugh, you will cry, you will love and hate mafia boss!John Price. Reader crosses paths with John and the 141, and gets caught in their wake. Early writes some of the best Reader characters of all time, and this one's no different. This story will get under your skin so fast, in the best way.

The Arrangement by @391780

Speaking of Early, this is THE gateway drug to her work, in my humble opinion. One of the first COD fics I ever read and converted me into being a Price girlie. Sugar Daddy Price x a cute, smart, and fucking funny Reader. Also one of my favorite characterizations of Simon of all time.

Club 141 by @greatstormcat

BDSM and the 141 make a Sy very happy. Reader starts off with a fake ass dom and is quickly properly introduced to BDSM culture with the fellas. Really solid group dynamics. Make sure you read that Price x Ghost post for a good fucking time.

Lamb to the Slaughter by @ohbo-ohno

Probably one of my favorite Ghoap fics of all time. The way my jaw was on the floor for the majority of this should've sent me to the emergency room. It's brutal, it's horrifying, and fuck me running, I loved it, start to finish.

The Pit by @peachesofteal

First, the nightmare of getting into an accident in the winter. Second, having Ghost and Soap find you. Oh boy, The Pit is peak Ghoap manipulation. When I got to the end, I just sat in silence. Stunned. It was amazing.

Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied by tippytulip (if you're on here, pls lmk!)

Another early COD fic for me. A thrill ride with a whip-smart Reader AND it's set in the Midwest. Those are two ways into my heart. The relationship between Reader and Price isn't an easy one, and he gives her a dozen and a half reasons to dislike him. Another ride of a fic, with great action scenes and group dynamics.

Trapper, Keeper by @tinypandacakes

A König fic that makes me screech no less than ten times per chapter. Panda writes a fucking scary König and it blows my mind. So much of it is subtle and manipulative, with few outright (so far, it's ongoing!) examples. I get a knot in my stomach every time I read and I LOVE IT.

DOG by Danceofthesevenveils

Another König fic that features a pathetic loser König, who is also one of the scariest motherfuckers I've ever read. The use of text messages underscores the creepy vibes, and a great vehicle for the Reader x König dynamic early on.

Desire Paths by @ceilidho

Manipulative best friend Johnny, you are iconic to me. Ceilidh writes some of the best nasty Johnny fic out there, but Desire Paths has my heart. Another ending that had me gasping.

Take Me Home, Country Road by @ceilidho

Cowboy Price, take me awayyyyyy. A fantastic Western AU focused on a Reader with a secret and a Sheriff Price that'll make you sit up straighter. Ceilidh captures John's voice so clearly, I can hear it when I read. That porch scene is seared into my brain in the best way.

Tender is the Flesh by @crashtestbunny

Do you like scary Simon? Do you like feeling unsettling and turned on? *slams table* Do I have the fic for you! Connie's butcher!Simon makes my blood run both hot and cold. "Oh she’s a stunner." lives in my head rent free. Also the apron tie bit.

Pornstar!AU by @shotmrmiller

Warning, if you don't smoke, you might start after reading Toni's porn AU. I love this depiction of Ghost, his control and his care. AND there's a threesome bit with Ghost x Reader x Price. It's what dreams are made of.

#sy fic recs #fic recs #once again i will say the COD fandom is SPOILED FOR CHOICE #so much talent

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siriusleee · 9 months

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Like Blood on Iron | Part 4

Historical Executioner AU

Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

Warnings: smut, female x male sex, blood, death, decapitation

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: Three very important updates for you guys, please read:

My tag list has gotten way longer than I'd ever expected it to get. Honestly, I thought I'd have like 3 readers and that's it. It is taking me almost an hour to get everyone tagged, update the tag list, and go back to old posts and comment to people who Tumblr won't let me tag. Because of this I will no longer be doing a tag list. In an effort to make this easier on myself and get these posts out faster, please subscribe to my Ko-fi page OR enable notifications for when I post. Subscribing to Ko-fi costs nothing, and I do not expect you to send me any money. It's just the one page I have that I can send out quick updates.

However, I am currently super poor. For anyone that doesn't know, I am an English Literature teacher. This year I moved from middle school to high school, and buying all the supplies that I need for this new grade level is killing me. I am working at a part-time job to afford it, but if you can and want to, I'd love it if you donated. I just bought $40 worth of glue sticks; it's very expensive. You can donate through my Ko-fi. Thank you to @gazs-blue-hat and @devcica for donating to my wisdom teeth surgery - I just made the first payment; I love you guys.

I did not edit this. I literally finished and am hitting post; school starts tomorrow and the first 3 weeks are so exhausting, I will be going to bed at 4 p.m. each day. So I wanted to get this out to you. Adamantine Chains will have a new chapter posted tomorrow. If you see any egregious errors, please point them out and I will fix them. previous chapters + future preview: - one - two - three - preview

The sound of Lily's soft breath in your ear tries to lull you to sleep, tries to force your jaw to relax but you can't. For the first time since your outburst with Jonathan, Lily had crept into the bedroom the two of you used to share. She had curled into your side; her breathing wasn't even before the door cracked open again and Maggie snuck in to sandwich Lily between yourself and her.

Lily's hair tickles your shoulder as you keep your eye on the window - the warmth is fading faster each night, but when you tried to close it before you went to bed you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You needed the feeling of the cool air in the room.

"Are you going to watch?"

Maggie's voice is so quiet it seems to get carried away by the wind. The bed shifts as she turns to look at you over the crown of Lily's head peeking above the covers. You turn, fingers brushing Lily's hair out of your way. In the darkness, Maggie's eyes gleam at you.

"I don't know. He told me not to, but I think Father will make us."

Maggie breathes in sharply - once - just enough for you to know whatever she's about to say angers her.

"I think Father is making everyone go. Why did he tell you not to go?"

You want to tell her his name - as much as you know - is Ghost. To call him by his name, but you keep that information tucked close to your chest.

"I don't know; he didn't say."

The conversation hangs in the air between the two of you, floating with the dust that blows in from the windowsill. Maggie's eyes burn across to you before she rolls back away from you, her hair dark against the pillow, curling down her neck. Mirroring her you roll away, eyes focused on the silver starlight you can see out the window.

You awake to soft hands shaking you awake; through your sleep you see Mother pressing one finger to her lip. Her eyes say it all to you - it's time. You slip out of bed leaving the warmth of Lily behind as the cool morning washes over the bare skin that shows from your nightgown. Mother hands you a dress, a thick black one. The same one you knew Maggie wore two years ago when Father's mother died.

You pad out the room behind her, trying not to wake Lily up. You let the bedroom door shut softly behind you before you speak.

"I have to go?"

"Lily is staying behind with the Morris girls. Your father expects the rest of us to be there." Mother's voice is tight; she's already dressed in a black dress, simple and loose fitting. She refuses to make eye contact with you as she speaks. "I will be downstairs. You have to be dressed soon."

You dress quickly, ducking back into the room to grab your boots and underdress. Back in the hallway, Maggie crosses you, dark purple shadowing under her eyes - you expect the same exhaustion to be painted across your face.

The temperature feels twenty degrees colder downstairs; you wrap your arms around yourself. Father is absent from his place at the table. A single slice of toast sits in front of Maggie, the neatest nibble taken from one corner. You drop down across from her and neither of you speak.

A knock at the door jolts your heart - you shove away from the table before Maggie can. On the other side stands Mrs. Morris and her two daughters, still in their sleeping clothes and barely awake. Without her having to ask, you take one of the girls from her; Mrs. Morris follows you quietly to your bedroom where you tuck both girls in beside Lily. They fall asleep almost immediately.

On your way out of the room, you shut the window, pulling the latch down so that they can't see outside.

You wait at the dining table with Maggie; Mother and Mrs. Morris speak quietly in the kitchen. When the morning bell tolls, the two of them emerge out of the kitchen. You and Maggie follow behind them, pulling your cloaks off the hook by the front door when you pass by. You wish instead to have Ghost's cloak, the heavy and warm scent of him enveloping you instead of the cold wool you wrap around your shoulders.

The four of you fall in line with the rest of the village, letting the wave of bodies push you toward the town center. Each step you take is heavier, harder to take than the one before. Ghost's voice, warning you not to come, not to watch, rings in your ear with a high-pitched drone that grows louder with each moment. The square is almost full whenever you arrive; you let yourself get pushed away from your Mother and Maggie until you're situated near the far side of the square, right where Ghost will first walk in.

The crowd tries to situate themselves as the council shuffles onto the platform. Your father stands at the back, face pale and empty. Even from this distance, you can see the tremor in his hands as he walks. Behind him, shackled in heavy iron chains, Uncle Henry walks up the platform escorted by two men you've never seen before. His face is gaunt and slack, his lip torn and blood dripping onto his chin.

The abject horror of it hits you all at once and you realize why Ghost had warned you not to come. All at once you think about the executions you had sat in your bedroom trying to strain to see, all the times you watched Ghost come up the street eager to get a glimpse of him and all the families that had been in the same place as yours is now. You think of all the times Father left his boots outside after execution and wonder if blood had splashed on them. You feel sick, horrified. You want to search out the families who had been ripped apart by the executions and beg for their forgiveness.

A hush falls over the crowd like a velvet blanket pulled up too high. You strain past the ringing in your ears to try to hear the heavy sound of boots that you've gotten used to hearing in the midnight light. The sound is different now, leadened and sinister. Drawing your hood over your head you keep your eyes fixed on the point you know Ghost will emerge from.

He seems to dwarf everyone in the crowd when he arrives, sword glinting in the early morning sunlight. You're torn between trying to press closer to him and pulling away as the thought of what he's about to do courses through you. He walks slowly, regret heavy in each of his steps as he mounts the platform.

The head councilman speaks, but you can't hear him above the roar in your ears as you watch Ghost situate himself to the side of Uncle Henry. He turns his face towards the crowd and his eyes search through every person before they land on you. He shakes his head just a fraction of an inch, and you know he's telling you to look away - to walk away before he swings his sword.

But you're rooted to the spot - you can't move as the councilman stops speaking and Ghost raises his sword, his eyes still locked on yours.

There's a moment's pause when his sword reaches its apex - a moment where you hope he'll lower it down and walk away. But the sword falls heavy; you manage to clench your eyes shut at the right second, but you still hear the heavy sound of Uncle Henry's head hitting the wood, and your mother's scream.

When darkness falls, no one stops you from walking out the front door. Father had not come home - you knew he was burying Uncle Henry somewhere, and Mother had to be carried to bed by you and Maggie. Upstairs you'd heard Lily sobbing; Maggie was the only one to witness you slip out the front door.

The red that dripped off of Ghost's sword as he walked back home is long gone in the dust and daytime; even so, you imagine that you can see it trailing in front of you as you walk, tripping over stones in the dirt. There's betrayal here, you know, running away to the home of the man who executed your uncle, but you don't know anywhere else to go.

Eyes peer down at you from their windows as you pass through the village, but for once you don't care if anyone runs home to tell on you. You're not sure Mother or Father would even be able to comprehend what you were doing anyway.

Like he knew you were coming, Ghost sits on the step, hands folded neatly in front of him. He doesn't look up at you, doesn't rise until you're within touching distance. An empty glass sits at his side; without speaking, he pushes himself to a standing position, glass snagged up in his large hand. You don't wait for him to beckon you as he walks inside.

You grimace at the warmth of the whiskey as it goes down your throat. You had never liked the taste of alcohol, but when Ghost sat it down in front of you you had reached for it without hesitation. The glass is heavy in your hand.

"I told you not to come," Ghost says, lowering himself down into the seat across from you. His voice is stern, but without any judgment for you attending the execution.

"I didn't have an option." You speak so quietly, you're not sure if he hears you over the wind and the crackle of the fire.

"You always have a choice."

"No, you always have a choice. You are a man; you don't understand what it's like to have someone dictate your entire life to you. I had no choice because my father said I had to go. And soon it won't be my father telling me what to do, but Jonathan. And I'll be shackled to a life of listening and obeying."

You shove the glass you'd drained towards Ghost, shaking your head at him when Ghost moves to fill it again.

"I'm sorry your father forced you to watch."

"My father," you pull your tangled hair over your shoulder, running your fingers through it to distract you from Ghost's eye burning at you over his mask, "thought that if we didn't come, it would show some level of guilt. I should be thankful that he let Lily stay home, but-"

"But what?"

"But I saw what the execution did to my mother. My mother is not a weak woman, but she didn't want to go. She can't do blood - it makes her sick for days. My father told me once it had to do with something she saw as a child, but wouldn't tell me more. She never attends the executions. But he forced her, knowing she's going to be regulated to the bed for the rest of the week. And I-"

You can't get the thought out - that you are a horrible person for how excited you used to be for the executions. Ghost waits patiently, leaning back in his chair, the wood creaking underneath him. You study the patterns of scarring on his fingers as they splay across the table. They're clean, no blood and dirt crusted beneath them.

"I am a horrible person," you finally sob out, fingers pressing into your eyes to try to press the tears that threaten to come out, "I have spent months waiting for an execution to come around; all I wanted to do was see you - I didn't think about everyone that was losing their life. Or their families, or you."

"Or me?" Ghost's voice is rough; you pull your fingers away from your eyes to look into his; they're dark and unreadable.

"I've never thought about what you must experience - doing the bidding of the council."

"I think you'll find I know more about being forced into doing things I don't want to do than you think."

The wind increases outside, the sound of leaves and sticks hitting the sides of Ghost's cabin. You wonder if it's Uncle Henry, angry with the town and determined to tear it apart.

"How did you end up here?" The question tumbles out of your mouth, and you feel ashamed as soon as you say it. Ghost's eyes flash, his nails dig into the wood of the table. You expect him to ignore you, but he pushes his hands into the collar of his tunic, and pulls out a necklace. With a flick of his wrist, he pulls it from around his neck and flings it to you. It lands a tangled mess in front of you.

"Read it." His voice is a solid command you follow, fingers tracing the edge of the cross as you pick it up; the metal chain snakes across the grain.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley - King's Guard 141st Division - you were in the King's army?"

"I was a part of the King's Guard; we were tasked with protecting the king when he traveled or during battle. There were four of us."

"What happened to the others?"

"I'm all that remains of the 141. We were-" his voice is whiskey thick, and when he swallows, you hear the heaviness of it, "ambushed. I was not able to save them. And so my punishment for not dying with my brothers was to live out my days as an executioner."

The metal is warm against your fingers, as you trace the engraved letters of his name. Simon Riley. Thoughts swirl in your head, and he seems to read them as you reach across the table to pass the necklace back.

"In this house you can call me Simon. Outside only Ghost."

The weight of the day - of Simon's background pushes against you. The small patterings of rain begin to hit the windows as you stand, taking your glass off of the table. You leave Simon as you refill the glass, bringing an extra for him. You drink yours in one go, refilling it again before you pass Simon his.

The corners of his eyes are tight as you step beside him, the glass held out to him. His hand wraps around your wrist, warm and electric. A stone settles in the pit of your stomach as a fire spreads across your skin from where he grabs you.

"You drink much more and you won't be able to make it up the path home."

"Just put me under the table then."

The corners of his eyes relax, and then turn up just slightly as he takes the glass from you with the hand not holding your wrist. He keeps you close to his side as he uses the hand with the glass to push his mask up just over his nose; the edge of a ragged scar peaking out on his cheek. He downs the drink in one go and grabs the glass you'd intended for yourself before finally letting you go.

You'd never enjoyed the way being drunk had made you feel, but as the world outside Simon's cabin swirls around you, you feel nothing but the warmth of the whiskey in your veins. The rain falls slow and heavy, warm despite the cool wind that had taken over the village. You reach one hand out to let the droplets pool into your palm, the rest of you shielded by the small awning above you.

The door opens behind you, the dim firelight spilling onto the rain soaked ground in front of you. The shape of Simon wraps its shadow around you along with the musky smell of him. You watch his shadow as he leans against the doorframe.

"We could run away together."

You had thought about it for a few weeks now. It had started out as a ridiculous fantasy - the two of you riding out on horse in the middle of the night and disappearing into the forest together. It had started out innocently enough, just the two of you escaping with each other, but now -

"Where would we even go?"

Simon's voice is soft, rolling through the rain drops as it passes by you. The timbre of it makes your mouth dry, or maybe it's the whiskey.

"Anywhere. Across the sea. Somewhere just far enough that know one would know who we are."

Simon's shadow ripples; you watch his shadow as he reaches to his chest, to where you know the cross hangs.

"You could go," he says, "but I will always be marked."

You don't know what he means, can't remember if he's told you something or not. But you let the reckless abandon that started building at you so much earlier in the day take over you. Simon's figure backed by the firelight makes your fingers itch to reach out and tangle them in the front of his tunic.

"But would you go?" You ask, voice rising and falling. "If you could, would you go with me?"

The silence stretches thin. Simon chews on the inside of his lip; the doorway groans beneath his fingers as they dig into the wood.

"You're drunk," he finally says, the words falling from him. "And you're not happy. I should take you home." His warm hand wraps around your elbow; you jerk it back and in your drunken state stumble. You try to catch yourself, but your feet slip. Simon tries to catch you, his hands wrapping around your elbow, but your feet tangle together and the two of you fall. Simon twists, getting his body halfway underneath yours.

The two of you land hard in the mud, your forehead clipping his chin. The two of you lay awkwardly, one of your hands on Simon's chest and the other buried in the mud. You try to push yourself up, hand slipping, to peer down at Simon lying beneath you. Mud is splattered across the exposed skin around his eyes. He reaches the hand that had wrapped around your back - the only part of him that has escaped the mud- to your forehead, fingers gently wiping away the warmth that had started to form there.

"You're bleeding."

"Is it deathly?

"I think you'll live."

He pulls his hand away, covered in your blood, and the rain washes it away slowly - the red tinge traveling down his wrist and disappearing into the hem of his tunic. You feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as you shift so that you're straddling one of his legs.

"Can I ask for a favor Simon?" You swallow heavily, trying to swallow down the nervousness and embarrassment that's threatening to explode out of you.

"Anything."

A red blush starts to creep up your chest as you speak, each word measured and bitten off carefully - worried that if you speak too fast, Simon will disappear.

"I won't lie and say I haven't kissed my fair share of boys. But I've never - I've always been too worried to - to do anything more."

You feel Simon's thigh tense between your legs, and the feeling tightens the knot inside of you.

"If I'm going to be forced to give myself to someone I don't want to, I want to keep something for myself. I-"

Simon's hands tighten painfully around your waist; you hadn't even realized he'd grabbed you or that your hands had snuck down so that they framed his face, your wet hair creating a curtain between the two of you and the rest of the world.

"There are some things you can never take back - that you may regret."

"Why would I regret you?"

Your question cracks the tension between the two of you for weeks. You collide together, the kiss frenetic, your teeth clicking against each other as Simon tangles his hands in your hair and pulling you closer to him.

He pushes the two of you up, grabbing you beneath your thighs as he rolls and stands, pulling you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist as Simon stumbles back into the cabin. Your fingers tease the edge of his mask; Simon shakes his head and you pull them away, still worried that at any second he's going to tell you to go home.

Your shoulder hits the doorway of his bedroom, but you barely feel it as Simon kicks the door shut behind you, darkness enveloping the two of you. This time when you reach for his mask, Simon doesn't stop you from sliding it off of him. His hair is warm and wet; your fingers catch on the tangles there.

Simon presses your back against the doorway as he lowers yourself to your feet. You pull away from him, unable to catch your breath as your hands slide beneath his tunic. His skin is soft and scarred; you trace your fingers across a jagged one that bisects his chest. Simon's breath hitches when you trace it to his nipple, your fingers ghosting across the sensitive skin there.

Simon lets you pull his tunic off of him, his fingers tracing the lacing on the front of your dress. He hesitates there, waiting for you to say no, to push him away.

"You've seen me naked before," you whisper, trying to loosen the tension, your fingers curling around the waistband of his pants. "No reason to be nervous now."

"It's different," Simon says, pressing a kiss to the base of your neck, tongue trailing upwards to the shell of your ear, "to think about what it would be like to touch you, and actually doing it."

His admission that he's thought about you like that - the same way you had shamefully thought of him on nights alone in your bed - sends a spear of want through you. You pull him closer, straining to reach up and kiss him again, but Simon keeps himself away.

"You can go home," he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh, "I wouldn't be angry with you. I would find no fault with you at all."

And you know he's telling the truth - if you said so at any point, he'd let you leave and wouldn't hold it against you. But you can't even entertain the idea - the instinct to wrap yourself around him, to claw at him and at yourself until the two of you are open for each other, is too much.

You reach up and place your hands over his, guiding them so that they pull at the laces of your dress, the bodice falling open. You shrug out of it, letting it pool at your feet as you kick it away. Simon's hands linger chastely at your side, fingers barely skimming your skin.

"I'm not breakable Simon."

"Of course you are," Simon sighs as you trace your fingers softly up his neck and to his cheek. His breath hitches as your fingers tease the edge of the scar you'd caught a glimpse of earlier when the two of you were drinking. You trace it, trying to map the features of his face. It ends at his hairline, a second scar bisecting it.

"It's my cross to bear." Simon's voice rumbles deep; you can feel it in your chest. "It's my mark as an executioner - the righteous hand of God."

I will always be marked, he had said earlier and you realize what he'd meant.

Simon wraps his hands around the back of your knees; he pulls you up until you're forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep from falling. He kisses you again, clumsy - you can feel him shaking beneath the soft skin of your hands. He pulls your hair so that your neck is exposed to him; Simon trails kisses down, nipping at your collarbone.

He's hot, his skin and mouth burning you up. You try to grind yourself against him, to get some sort of friction, but Simon's hands keep you just far enough away from him to drive you crazy. His knees hit the side of the bed and buckle; he drops you gently to the bed. The dark scent of him, and the whiskey that still pulls at you makes your head swim.

Simon's hands are firm on your knees as he pushes them apart and pinning you down.

"If I start to hurt you-"

"Simon, please."

He presses your thighs down harder to the bed, stopping your squirming.

"It can hurt. If I start to hurt you, I need you to say something; I need you to promise that you will."

His fingers have inched upwards and you try to buck your hips and make the connection; Simon digs his nails into the sensitive skin of your thighs and the feeling makes you gasp - more electric than anything you've experienced before.

"I," you swallow hard, Simon's nails scratching down you lightly pulling all the air from your chest, "I promise."

You're ashamed of the moan that you let out when his mouth finds your core, your back arching off of the bed. Simon's tongue is velvet on you, lapping at your wetness with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from his size.

You'd listened to other girls in the village talk about this - about their quick trysts with the boys in the village and how it felt to be pawed at. But this - this was like nothing you'd ever imagined it could be, and nothing like the girls described it as.

Simon's hands keep your knees apart as his tongue swirls your sensitive spot; your back arching off of the bed as you grind down onto him. His fingers trace patterns in the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. When his fingers reach your wetness, you can't help but clench your knees around him, nervousness and embarrassment filling you. You had never let any of the boys you'd kissed touch you - the thought of their fingers inside of you disgusting, but the want for Simon to stretch you out is enough to make you pull away - not sure how to react.

Simon's tongue slows as he pushes your knees back down with one arm, his mouth pulling off of you with a pop. In the absence of him you buck your hips, but he doesn't move. He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, and when he speaks, the brush of his lips on your skin makes you shiver.

"We don't-," he swallows, heavy in the darkness, "we can stop if you want."

"No." It's a pathetic whine. You can feel his smile against your thigh, teeth nipping at your skin.

"You're going to want me to stretch you out a little."

His words pull a gasp out of you; you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. Simon's hand traces your wetness gently, before he pushes in one thick finger. It burns as he pumps in and out of you; you're so tight he can barely move in and out of you. You can't tell how long it takes before the burn starts to dissipate; like he can read your body, Simon slips another finger in.

Simon works you until you're comfortable; the sounds you make are filthy. You're so wet you feel yourself dripping onto Simon's wrist. He latches onto your apex, and the feeling sends you over the edge. You come with a choked sob; you try to reach down and stop his hand, but he pushes you away and continues until you can't take it anymore.

He pulls his fingers out of you, as you beg incoherently - but you're not sure what you're begging for.

Even in the darkness, Simon's a shadow when he crawls up your body, lips skimming your hip bone, your stomach, your collarbone. A muscle twitches in your thigh; you can't catch your breath in the heat that radiates off of Simon as he dips his head down to kiss you. You dig your nails into his side, and buck your hips up, but he pushes them back down gently with one hand.

Simon pulls away just enough to speak, lips brushing against your as he does.

"If you want me to stop-"

You feel crazed - the way you claw into him, trying to pull him into yourself, the way your lips crash against his, teeth clicking together in a way that would be painful any other time. Simon snakes his hand between the two of you; you jump when it brushes past your clit. You can feel yourself dripping already - wetter than you'd thought you could get.

Simon lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses, resting his hand on your chest. His fingers stretch across the expanse of skin, calluses raising gooseflesh.

"You're shaking."

And you are; it's overwhelming - the smell of him enveloping you, the expanse of his body, hard muscle under a layer of soft downy, and being broken down by him. The thick feeling of being stretched out.

"I'm alright."

It comes out whispered and broken, but you are. You've never felt like this; never thought that you would. You wrap one hand around this wrist at your chest and beg.

"Simon please. I can't - I," you can't get the words out, can't explain that you can't take the feeling of being empty; of being without him.

Simon presses into you, just barely, but it's enough to make your back arch and your nails to scratch down his arm. He hisses at the feeling, teeth nipping at your earlobe. He moves slowly; the sharp feeling of him is enough to cause you to hyperventilate. On instinct, you press your hands to his chest; you can feel his desire to move faster in the way his muscles bunches beneath your touch.

"Do I need to stop?"

"No - it's just - you're too much."

You can feel his smile, brief and small, as he presses his face into your shoulder before he bites down. Hands finding his hair, you grip tight enough that you're sure it must hurt him, but he doesn't say anything.

You can feel every inch of him stretching you out; Simon's voice is soft in your ear as he whispers to you to relax - that you're doing so well. One of his hands trace down your side, trying to soften the gooseflesh. The other pushes your hair away from your forehead, fingers pausing at your temple.

The world pauses when he bottoms out; you can feel him in your throat - he's burning you up from the inside, his skin fire against your own. Simon's mouth his hot against your skin as he trails kissed across your neck. You know there will be marks there tomorrow - something you'll have to hide - but you don't ask him to stop; you beg him to keep going.

"I need you to relax, my love." His soft voice in your ear makes your fingers curl against the blanket bunched beneath you. "You're too tight."

You try to relax beneath him, but you can't - you can't.

"I can't."

"Just breathe love."

You focus on the movement of his chest against yours, and try to synch your breathing with his. Simon lays his hand against your throat, your pulse slowing beneath the pads of his fingers. His tongue snakes out to trace the shell of your ear, and he rocks himself against you.

You're ashamed of the sounds that escape you, you press your hand to your mouth to try to muffle yourself, but Simon pries your hand away and places it on his shoulder.

"Don't try to be quiet."

His words cut into you, and you grind yourself against him trying to match the rhythm he's setting.

Sweat and slick mix between your thighs; Simon pushes your knees towards your chest and the shift in angle tugs at something inside of you; you can feel yourself unraveling faster than you did earlier. Simon's nails dig into your skin as he moves faster. Your hands press on his chest, his stomach, trying to find some space to breathe, but his grip on your waist doesn't let you move.

Simon finds a brutal pace. You dip your fingers between the two of you until you can feel him pumping in and out of you; Simon moans at the feeling, nails piercing your skin hard enough to make you gasp.

He grabs the hand you have between the two of you and guides your fingers to your apex, forcing you to swirl your fingers around yourself.

You try to commit the feeling of him to memory: the texture of his skin, the sound of him panting in your ear, the feeling of his thumb tracing the contours of your nipple. Your second orgasm starts to break around you, and in the haze, you realize that you will never have this kind of moment with someone else.

The thought puts a knot in your throat; you pull Simon down to kiss him; he must sense your desperation as he slows down, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

His body shudders once and he pulls out; you feel the heat of him spill out across your stomach. The wild thought of reaching down, and taking some onto your finger to taste possesses you, but your fingers are still clutching at Simon. You can't figure out how to loosen your grip.

Simon pants between your thighs, one hand still wrapped around your neck as he shifts so that he's laying down beside you. You shuffle, kicking the blanket down beneath you until you're able to pull it up around you.

You want to say something, anything to dissipate the air that stills around the two of you. But as Simon pulls you into his chest, anything you could think of is washed away.

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#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #my fics #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty mwii

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nonclassyparty · 6 months

Text

pretty on the outside [masterlist + preview]

summary:

just take off that disguise, everyone knows that you're only pretty on the outside

It's not a secret that you like to get around despite the trail of broken hearts you leave behind. Jeong Yunho, the sweetest prudish frat boy in the history of frat boys, is supposed to be just another guy you'd discard after you grew bored of him. Very soon, you realize you bit off more than you can chew and that Jeong Yunho might not be so easy to handle.

pairing: jeong yunho x reader, choi san x reader, mentions of past jung wooyoung x reader

status: work in progress

notes: *evil giggles* hello! enjoy the little preview of my new series that i'm working on (i will be using this post as a masterlist for it) and it won't be posted until i'm done with soot. it will have nine parts, if you'd like to be added to the taglist for it just reply below <3

my main masterlist // playlist // moodboard // click to donate to Palestine

first chapter preview;

In his earliest surviving work of dramatic theory Poetics, Aristotle wrote, “A whole story is what has a beginning and middle and end.” This is not only fundamental to storytelling, it’s the closest reflection of an entire life cycle. It can be applied to anything in this life. Everything has a beginning, middle and end.

Which is why when San introduces you to his new girlfriend, you try not to be too bothered. Not only because it's his seventh new girlfriend this year but because, as all relationships, just like it had it's beginning and middle - it will have an end too.

Her name is Mijoo, her bleached hair is curled and looks slightly fried and the only thing that you've learned since she sat down with you is that her interests include pilates and taking care of her Instagram feed. They met at a frat party two weekends ago and hooked up in a stuffy room on the second floor, as romantic as it sounds.

San eats his lunch next to her while she scrolls through her phone and plays with her water bottle, looking absolutely unbothered that he barely knows his new girlfriend and seems like he has no intention of getting to know her better either. Hongjoong and you share a knowing look.

You can already tell that this is one of San's relationships where he calls it a relationship just so neither one of the parties participating feel like whores.

Still, the fact that he'd be in a relationship with just about anyone manages to leave a bitter taste in your mouth as you swallow down the last bite of your sandwich and clean your hands with a napkin.

You clear your throat, "I have to go. Have class in ten minutes."

San's head lifts up from the screen of his phone that he held in one hand as he ate, "You didn't answer if you're going to Vortex with us tonight?"

By 'us' he probably means him and his girlfriend and some of his other sleazy friends that he managed to make ever since he started going to the gym freshman year. It's definitely not Hongjoong because Hongjoong wouldn't be caught dead in a nightclub for college students that could only be classified as a dump.

You deadpanned, "It's a Wednesday."

San stares at you like he's not seeing the problem as Hongjoong snorts from next to you, "Like that's stopped you before."

You roll your eyes at him before looking back at San, trying not to dwell on the way his soft hair falls over his forehead. "I have my first midterm on Friday, so no."

"Ah, sucks." He says with a scrunched up nose and you look away quickly as you plaster on a smile that definitely looks sarcastic and a little sour.

"Well, see you guys later." You say, standing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder, "Bye."

San's new girlfriend gives you a sweet smile that makes you hate her.

You think about her and your own hypocrisy as you make your way to class. You barely spoke to her, she's done nothing to you and it's unfair to dislike her simply because she temporarily has...maybe the only person that you ever truly wanted but will never have.

You sigh as you pass through the door of the classroom that's already fairly filled out. The board stationed in the front filled out with a list of students attending the class, stops you in your tracks.

Partners assigned for Lab Exercise 1-3. is written in big bold letters at the top of the board.

You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes as you curse your professor who suggested this as an elective class. He said this class was a breeze to go through. Anything that has lab exercises is not a breeze.

Your eyes sweep over the list before they land on your own name. Y/L Y/N - Jeong Yunho, table 6.

Never heard of him, you think to yourself which isn't much of a surprise. The campus is huge, you'll always meet someone new.

Alas, you make your way to your designated table and are satisfied to find it empty which means you can slide to the seat near the window and hopefully make it know that it's your spot from now on.

You sit for the next ten minutes, scrolling down your phone and checking for your partner because almost all of the seats in the classroom are occupied by now and class is supposed to begin in two minutes. You'll be pissed if you have to do the first lab exercise alone.

Soon enough, a tall guy walking through the door a minute before the professor is supposed to show up catches your attention. He walks to the board, eyes roaming over it, he turns around and skims the classroom before his eyes stop on table labeled with a big number six and he makes eye contact with you.

You immediately look away through the window, trying to hide your grimace.

The guy, Jeong Yunho, even without ever meeting him before, looks undoubtedly like a frat boy.

A dark blue cap turned backwards sits on his head and his backpack hangs off of one shoulder. He's handsome in a boy-next-door type of way and tall. Definitely plays a sport of some sort (maybe soccer) judging by his broad shoulders and fit build. Frat boy and a jock. How boring.

"Hi." He greets you with a small smile that you return quietly with a squeamish smile as he sits down next to you. The smell of his cologne is instantly overwhelming. It's a smell that you can't describe as anything else except male and you feel like this is about to be the longest three weeks of your life. "I'm Yunho."

"Y/N." You say politely, again making eye contact with him that he tries his hardest to hold as he leans on the table by his elbows and his mouth quirks up. Oh God, here we go.

"I don't think I've ever seen you around, are you a Chemistry major as well and just new or is this your elective?" You blink at the question.

"Ah, yeah, this is an elective." You respond, glancing at the door again to see if the professor will show up soon.

He hums, "The Chem branch is a really small circle here so everybody knows everybody by now, that's why I asked."

"Right." You blink at him again, observing this Jeong Yunho as he starts pulling out a notebook, calculator and a wide array of pens out of his backpack. The last frat boy you knew, Bangchan or Chris as they like to call him because his real name isn't sleazy enough, came to class with a pen and a folded piece of paper tucked in his back pocket.

So, maybe you're a little judgmental. Who isn't these days?

The class starts and Jeong Yunho continues to make you hide your surprise at him as he actively participates in the discussions. From what you can tell, he's very articulate and smart.

That does absolutely nothing for you but still, it's a little surprising.

Not because you think all frat boys and jocks are stupid or something (even though most are, you know from experience) but because the way he speaks and carries himself is nothing but respectful and nice and it just does not fit the stereotype. An hour in, you expected at least a crude joke during the presentation but it never came. Hm.

Since you were extremely competitive, you wanted nothing more than to beat him to answering the professor's questions but you knew jackshit about polymer chemistry so all you could do is sit, faintly annoyed, watching someone be better than you.

After class is done and you're packing your stuff while texting Yeosang, Yunho gently touches your elbow with his fingers to get your attention. You turn to him and he quickly withdraws his hand.

"Would you like to...uh, go work on the exercise at a coffee shop nearby? I think it would be good to get a head start since we're not yet busy with out other, actually important, classes." He chuckles before checking the watch around his wrist, "I have free time now."

You bite your lip, thinking it would probably be the smart thing to do but you were texting Yeosang. Making plans to see him. Scratch that, making plans to fuck him.

"Uh, how long would it take exactly? Just so I can organize the rest of my day-"

"Oh, well, I have practice at six-thirty so I was thinking until six." He shrugs, his backpack hanging over one shoulder and making him look like a poster for golden college boys. "Does that work for you?"

It works better than having to work on the exercises on other days of the week. It just means seeing Jeong Yunho more than necessary, one day a week is perfectly enough in his presence.

You bite your lip again, glancing at your screen one last time before texting Yeosang that you'll see him at seven. "Yeah, let's go."

Yunho leads you to a coffee shop near campus that you've never heard of. Hidden deep between buildings and almost entirely empty, there's no regular customers let alone anyone from campus.

"I study here sometimes if the library is full. Nobody comes here." He chuckles, holding the door open for you and motioning for you to go in. He almost seems shy to let you know that he goes to the library. It's, unfortunately, kind of cute.

After you both order and make yourself comfortable in the small booth you've picked out, you start to work on the assignment. Yunho leads the way, as a Chemistry major, he's much more well versed in this subject. You, a future engineer, are completely lost so you just scribble down whatever he does and keep quiet.

He likes to talk a lot, you notice, after every done question, he makes sure to ask about you, your interests, hobbies, whatever and you shut it down every time with a dry response.

It's not that you dislike him, really it's not. It's not even that he's a frat boy and a jock that bothers you anymore because it's obvious that he's a little bit of a nerd as well. It's that, in the hour and a half that you've spent sitting here with him, you realized just how much he reminds you of San.

And that's enough to make you keep your distance from him. You don't want him, you don't want anyone like San.

The corny jokes, shy smiles, a blush that spreads all the way to his ears when he gets flustered, attempts to be cocky but then growing absolutely embarrassed by it that it ends up being endearing - it's all very San-like. And it's a version of San that not many people know.

Once it starts nearing six and you both start packing up your things, Yunho clears his throat next to you.

"So, uh, would you be interested in getting a cup of coffee sometime, like, in a non polymer chemistry related way?" He nervously stutters out, ears already burning red. You slow down the action of pulling your jacket on as your phone is in one hand, the chat with Yeosang opened.

Maybe you should've seen this coming.

He wasn't shy about the fact that he found you attractive since the moment he sat down next to you. You just didn't expect for this to happen so soon. Geez, how awkward will the next three weeks be after today.

You sigh, pulling your dark red hair from under your jacket. "No offense Yunho, you seem nice and all but you're not my type."

He seems almost offended by that as he chuckles, "You barely even know me?"

You give him a once over.

The matter of fact was that you did not, under any circumstance, date anyone or get into relationships. You had hook-ups, one night stands and no strings attached agreements.

If there was any way to describe your mindset it would be pretty simple - men, women, people you were attracted to - you treat them like horderves served in front of you. You'll take a bite (might save some for later) but that's about it, you make sure not to get full because there's way too many flavors, too many of them to try, taste, pick apart...

And if someone really managed to impress you, maybe you'd pick another plate up.

But that didn't happen often and when it did, it usually didn't last.

Jeong Yunho, in every single way, reeked of romance and good intentions.

The typical boy next door type. He seemed like a momma's boy that wanted a proper and traditional relationship, brought flowers and texted you 'good night' and 'good morning' religiously and had extremely romantic but bland missionary sex. The type to want you to wear his jersey to his games so he could take cheesy photos with you in it and, if he was religious, maybe he'd want you to go to church with him on Sundays. He was the last thing you needed.

If Hongjoong and Seonghwa found you with someone like him, they'd never let you live it down.

You open your mouth to respond to him but your phone rings and you look at it - a photo of Yeosang lighting up the screen. He's always so impatient. You told him at seven, why is he calling already?

You wave your phone in front of Yunho's face, pointing out Yeosang's photo that you took one drunken night while the two of you were messing around after leaving the club and that you've been using as his contact photo ever since where he's in all black, long hair tucked behind his ear as he lights up a cigarette, "My type."

Yunho blinks at the photo before looking at you again resembling a kicked puppy, you sigh feeling only slightly bad but still you have to say something more out of courtesy. "I have to go, I'm sorry if I seemed rude or something, it wasn't intentional and nothing against you but I'm not interested. I hope we do well on the lab exercise though."

He opens his mouth to say something else but you're already standing up and walking towards the entrance of the small, dingy coffee shop.

The discomfort you feel is only temporary because, once again, everything has its beginning, middle and end. This 'partnership' with Yunho will end soon so why bother yourself by feeling guilty.

#jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez smut

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jjuwuni · 10 months

Text

caught in his web ; choi yeonjun ch. 1 | SWEET DREAMS

pairings — yeonjun x afab reader

genre — smut (lots of it so minors dni please), fluff, angst, college!au, friends to lovers, drama

word count (for this chapter) — ~2.3k

summary — You thought you’d be immune to Choi Yeonjun's charms, turns out you were completely, utterly, shamefully wrong.

And what’s worse? He’s your new best friend's boyfriend.

Wanna hear something even worse than that? His dad and your mom are dating.

MOA University: An educational institution created for the 1%. The elite of the elites. Those who are to inherit large multinational companies, take oath in office, and represent Korea's future in business and politics. This is where it begins.

warnings — almost-stepbro!yeonjun but not really since your parents are in the early stages of dating, kinda slow burn yes, black haired!yeonjun, bad boy yeonjun, all of you are trust fund babies, all the tubatu's make a cameo and are in the same friend group, might reference some other 4th gen idols, alcohol, drinking, drunken mishaps, lots of sex, profanity - lots of it, yeonjun is a menace but he's so cute wtf i'm screaming, jealousy, making out etc. minors dni istg! i'm watching y'all..

A/N: hello! bela here! my apologies for dipping after posting the preview. here is the official first chapter! hope you guys like it. i'll try to update more frequently. 🙏 comments and reblogs are very much appreciated xoxo also please do let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the next parts!

MASTERLIST: [ preview ] | [ 1 ] | [ 2 ] | [ 3 ]

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

“O-oh..” You clear your throat after telling yourself to get it together about a million times. Opening your mouth after what seemed like an eternity, “I uh.. Uncle Minjun? It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.” You offer your hand out to the man who was undeniably a splitting image of Yeonjun - just older.

He was dashing and had an air of charisma around him. One would know that being in the real estate business, you need to have some type of charm after all, so you're not too surprised that he owns the biggest housing and commercial property business in Asia. He seemed like the type to be able to sway you easily into buying things without much hesitation.

Also explains why your mom fell for him.

“y/n.. Very nice to meet you finally. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you from your mother, you seem like a very smart lady. And as expected - beautiful too. Surely you have a lot of suitors by now, eh?” He says in a playful manner, as you finally take a seat to join them, right across from Yeonjun.

“Oh, trust me, dad. Soobinnie's all over her.” The male across from you nonchalantly points out, making you cough right as you scoop the clear soup into your mouth.

“Oh? CEO Dongwon's son? Well sounds like he’s a decent man.” Your mother for sure wouldn't pass off the chance to give her two cents, “Why didn’t you tell me this, sweetie? You should invite Soobin here sometime.” She lets out a giddy laugh as you grimace into your soup.

"Well, we’re not an item, Mom. And you know I want to focus on my studies first…”

“It’s rare you hear that nowadays eh? I wish my son would see education the same way as you y/n. Maybe you should teach him a thing or two, huh?” Minjun replies, sipping from his scotch glass and giving Yeonjun a look to which the younger male replies with a sarcastic scowl.

“I’m sure Chaewon’s got that covered.” You take the opportunity to tease back, it was your way of repaying him for bringing Soobin up. “They’re a really cute couple.” You smile the sweetest one you can muster and look over at his dad who seems to suddenly be interested at the mere mention of a girl.

“Well, if you’re serious about dating her, son, stop bringing random girls home. You know the guards see you when you do that, right? It's quite distasteful really.”

Your eyes widen upon learning this little piece of information, he was still bringing girls home, even though he’s dating my friend? You think to yourself. You could feel Yeonjun’s glare directed at you from across the table, but ultimately decide to avoid it and just eat.

“I-I’ll go get the dessert.” You shoot up from your seat not too long after, wanting to do anything to get you out of that semi-awkward situation.

“I’ll help you y/n!” Yeonjun chimes in, walking behind you and following you into the kitchen- giving you no other choice.

“Ahjumma, can you please take out the cream cake my mom bought this morning? I’ll cut it myself.” You say in a polite tone and a smile to match, watching the older lady walk out back to the refrigerators to go grab it.

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back against the expensive Italian marble countertop. “Not even an hour with you and I’m already tired.” You glare at the male.

It’s true, there’s a reason why you never got along with him, as he was always picking on you. But it was more of a welcomed gesture for you because even though it was annoying, you were just glad you are not a part of the population of MOA-U girls who have fallen victim and succumbed to his charms.

“Well, you do know what this means… right y/n?” Yeonjun asks, almost in a teasing tone from what you can pick up.

Soon, his hands lay flat over the countertop, on each side of your hip - effectively trapping you in.

You swallow hard, you’ve never been this close to him before.

Chaewon always had somewhat of a fence around him in school, which is why we’ve never been face-to-face like this. You find yourself taking note of his prominent features- from his black locks, which complimented his hazel eyes, his strong jawline, his raised nose bridge, and even that cute, boyish smile.

“H-huh?” Great, what was that part about being immune to his charms again?

“We’re going to be siblings," He says, arms wrapping around your waist, "..so you’ll see more of me around, most likely.” His smile stretches out even more, and it was like he enjoyed that you were flustered by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Like a shark being able to smell fear from a few feet away.

"You're... You weirdo." Was all you were able to say, and it took all of your might to push him off of you, and right on time too, as the help finally came back with the cake to save the day.

You leave the kitchen as fast as you could, and even as you briskly walked away, you could feel Yeonjun smirking behind you.

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

"I don't know how I feel about it, honestly." You say as you plop down on one of the couches in Chaewon's living room after school that day.

"My best friend and my boyfriend becoming step-siblings? Who would have thought..." Chaewon says with a smile, though you couldn't tell if it was a sarcastic smile or one that was of genuine nature.

"I know my mom's been a notorious magnet for rich dudes but I never thought she would end up in the arms of Choi Minjun, tsk. This is driving me nuts." You whine out, pulling at your hair and punching the throw pillow repeatedly.

"You do know there's some business strategy side to this, right unnie?" Minjeong suddenly speaks up. The youngest in your group rarely opened her mouth, which is why all four of you were all ears whenever she decides to give her input on things.

"How so?" You ask, trying to make sense of the situation and guessing where she was going with this statement.

"Mm well... Yeonjun oppa's dad owns a lot of properties, and you guys own a lot of department stores.. So if your companies merge... Then, your mom can expand to more places and oppa's dad will acquire more patrons because of the brand - since your mom does have an insane amount of fans. It will be the merger that everyone in Korea will be talking about."

"Wow.. I never really thought of it that way." You say in a hushed tone, trying to put the pieces together.

"At this rate you'll be richer than all three of us combined. With the exception of Chaewon, of course." Yeji says in a joking manner, her statement causing Chaewon to flip her hair over her shoulder.

You laugh it off, "Ah, well- that's.. that's really not my concern now. All I know is that my mother needs to get her life together.."

"Well look at the bright side y/n, at least you get to look after my baby for me," Chaewon interjects, putting her hand over her chest. "You know, you can report to me and tell me if there are girls who try to flirt with him and all that. You’re basically going to be his younger sister anyways." She points out, nodding her head a few times.

You stay silent, suddenly remembering that one little fact that his dad gave away at dinner.

He was still bringing random girls home at this point.

There was an inner battle in you suddenly - should I say something? Or should I keep it under wraps since their relationship isn’t my business anyway? Something prompts you to go for the latter, not open your mouth and just nod.

You'd rather not be caught in the middle of the drama.

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

As expected, there was another party that night at Chaewon’s house.

There were indeed perks to being inheritors to future companies: your parents were more often than not, too busy to take note of anyone's whereabouts. Which is why you have the luxury to party whenever you wanted.

Surprisingly, you were actually in the mood to party then. As you’ve managed to down a few shots of soju as well as soju bombs with Yeji.

And not surprisingly, Chaewon was all over Yeonjun that night.

You could feel him staring at you from time to time though. Nevertheless, you don't think much of it- as you’ve always made it a point not to.

He's probably waiting for me to f*ck up or something so he can tattletale on me to my mom next time we have a ‘family’ meal.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Soobin’s voice made its presence known as he wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you into a hug. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso, and you stay that way for a few minutes.

“Ah- y/n! Before I forget! Remember how you were looking for that limited edition version of that manga we both loved?!” He asks as you pull away from the hug. You, of course, nod quickly.

The two of you have a lot of similarities, and your love for mangas and graphic novels was one of them.

In a swift motion, he then pulls out something from his bag. And lo and behold, in its pristine condition, was the same novel you've been searching high and low for.

“WHAT! NO WAY!!!” You shout over the music, enough to draw attention from the people around you. You envelop him in another excited hug out of gratitude. “I can’t believe you found it?! How did you do it? I had my mom’s assistant look all over for it. Even my grandparents’ staff were searching for it.”

“Ah well, I have my connections. You’re not the only one, y/n.” Soobin winks as soon as you pull away to take the manga and read through the back cover.

The rest of the night was spent with Soobin and a few more soju bottles. And by the end of the night, you were feeling the ugly effects of alcohol.

Cuddled up with him on one side of the couch, with the two of you talking about all the animes you’ve watched the past week. It was pretty fun to have someone with whom you could nerd out, especially in a group of socialites such as the one you both have.

“Ah, you’re remarkable. I can’t believe you like the same things I do.” He said, pinching your nose which causes you to scrunch it upwards.

“y/n...?” He suddenly grows quiet after a few moments of just staring at each other.

“H-huh?” You ask, your forehead creasing in curiosity. Unfortunately, right on time, your vision starts to blur, and the dimmed-out lights in the living room turned party area wasn’t helping. “W-what is it?”

“C-can I k-kiss-- Y-yah.. y/n?! Hey! You ok?!”

That was pretty much the last thing you hear before passing out.

And that was it, your dear old friend alcohol got the better of you, knocking you out on his lap.

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

“Yeonjun, I don’t understand, you know I can bring her home safely.”

Was I dreaming?

“I know, but I promised her mom I’d take care of her, and that’s what I’ll do so hand her over.” His voice didn’t falter, standing firm to the promise he made to your mom.

W-wait.. I can’t see anything.. I can’t open my eyes. I’m still dizzy, I can only hear faintly.. Ah, what is happening to me?!..

“Pff, alright, fine Jjunie.. But you better not try any funny business.”

You could feel another pair of strong arms underneath you, cradling you as you shifted. The air is crisp and cold as it brushes through your legs. You were outside.

“Babe! Where are you going?! You can let Soobin handle her and the party’s not over yet.”

That was Chaewon’s voice..

“I have to go Chae, I’ll bring her home first and make sure she’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow in school hmm?”

————-　★　-———— . ————-　★　-————

You wake up to music, a hummed lullaby of sorts. It was soothing and pleasant to hear. You can feel the soft mattress under your tired body. With how familiar it all felt, you could tell you were in your bed.

Apart from that, you can feel someone stroking your hair.

Your eyelids felt so heavy as you open them, curious to see who it was. But you could barely see, vision still blurry no thanks to the after-effects of alcohol.

Add that, and the fact that it was rather pitch dark around your room- signaling that all the lights were off.

Someone was in your room, that you knew. Because you can hear him and his melodic humming, and whoever it was- he was unmistakably sitting at the edge of your bed next to you.

“O-ow..” You croak out, feeling the throbbing in your head. Pressing the palm of your hand against your forehead almost immediately, the melodic, soft voice cuts as you note the mattress' weight shift when the person beside you leans in to check on you.

“y/n, don't get up, just get some rest…” That voice, you know who it belongs to, but it took you a while to process it.

Yeonjun’s voice?

Even though you wanted so badly to keep your eyes open and verify if your guess was correct, you've had way too much to drink to keep up.

You couldn’t believe it though. How can someone so rugged and nonchalant about things have such a sweet voice? Plus, the mere idea that he’s here to make sure you're okay- that definitely does not seem like something he’d do.

Or have you had a skewed vision of him this whole time?

Soon after, You feel his lips against your forehead. His soft buds leave a small peck and a tingling sensation on your skin, and you swore your cheeks felt a lot more heated than it was before.

At that point, you weren't sure if it was all a dream. You feel your stomach churn. Was it butterflies? Nah, it must be the soju. You tell yourself.

“Sweet dreams, y/n.” And with that, you drift off into dreamland.

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valleydean · 14 days

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Chapter 1 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

PREVIEW:

An-gel Nov-ak! An-gel Nov-ak!

The crowd cheered for him from the bleachers of the world’s largest arena. Chicago Stadium had 26,000 seats, and every single one had been filled. There were men and women who paid more than they could afford for the rare chance of seeing the Heavyweight Champion of the World from the nosebleeds; and, sitting ringside, there were those who remained wealthy despite the turbulent times: celebrities and politicians, mobsters and socialites. All of their shouts sounded the same as they whooped and roared when Castiel knocked his opponent out in the seventh round.

Over an hour had passed since then. Now, the quiet hung like a curtain as Castiel stood in the center of the ring, and he assumed this would be the last time he’d ever perform in Chicago.

“What’s it like being back in your hometown?” the reporter from the Chicago Tribune had asked him in the post-fight press conference. Castiel had informed the man that Chicago wasn’t, in fact, his hometown. He’d never lived in the city. He’d only ever visited, and rarely. Besides, he hadn’t thought of Illinois as home for a very long time.

“After you retire at the end of the year, do you think Pretty Boy Winchester can win the title?” another reporter had asked. The question had made the raw, tender skin over Castiel’s knuckles stretch and burn when he tightened his fists under the table.

Yes, of course, I believe Dean will take my title next year. He’s more than deserving.

That had been his answer, the words coming out mindlessly from all the times he’d repeated himself before. They were truthful. He meant them. Castiel could tamp down the scalding pride in his chest at the thought of anyone but him wearing the belt. Because it wouldn’t be anyone. It would be the same man he’d look in the eyes every morning when he woke up.

Dean wanted the title, and he should have it. It was his turn and Castiel would support him every step of the way.

He’s more than deserving.

He just wished Dean had spoken to him before announcing to the world, right after Castiel’s first victory of the year when his wounds were still bleeding, that he would participate in a title fight after Castiel was gone. Maybe, if he’d given Castiel some kind of indication beforehand, it wouldn’t have felt like he was walking over Castiel’s grave.

Castiel scanned the arena outside of the ring. The house lights were on, making the place seem foreign and liminal. The spilled popcorn kernels, cigarette ash, and crumpled trash that lined the sticky floors served as the only signs that life had once been vibrant there. Castiel could still feel the hot overhead lights on his skin, just as surely as he felt the blood seeping onto his bandages and the bruises that would line his face tomorrow. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Soon, bruises and blood would be a thing of the past. All the pain that came with victory wouldn’t plague him anymore. He could unclench his fists, relax his muscles, let his calloused knuckles soften and his bones heal from all the times they’d been broken.

He wondered if, like an ache on a rainy day, those fractured bones would remember the glory. If they’d whisper, or if they’d echo with yells.

An-gel Nov-ak!

The loud whining of a metal door struck the silence like a jab.

“Cas!”

The door clattered closed, and Castiel’s eyes fluttered open. His neck was starting to pinch. He leveled his chin and watched Dean stride down the aisle between the ringside seats, polished shoes crunching over debris as he went. He was still wearing his suit, his wool coat draped over his arm.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Dean complained. “The hell are you doing out here?”

“Thinking,” Castiel said simply, even though it felt like a lie. His mind had just been circling around the same thing it had been for nearly three months now: his retirement, and everything that went along with it. He’d asked Dean time and time again if he was doing the right thing. And, time and time again, Dean had assured him that he was.

He believed Dean, because Dean wanted what was best for him. They wanted what was best for each other. And yet, the question remained like a contusion on Castiel’s ribs.

Castiel resolved not to bother Dean with it anymore. The answer wouldn’t change, and neither would the circumstances. It was like Dean kept saying: it was okay to feel mixed emotions, and to be nostalgic. What Castiel felt was nothing more than that. Castiel would learn how to open his hands and put down the fight.

He still had eight months, two weeks, and a day to learn how.

Dean walked up the steps and ducked into the ring. “Okay. Thinking about what?” he asked, carefully hanging his coat on the ropes so it wouldn’t crease.

Castiel pressed his lips together and looked to the side, hoping to find an excuse. He remembered what the reporter from the Tribune had asked him. “My father used to take me to Chicago sometimes—before we had a car. He would make me load the pigs into the Studebaker wagon to trade them at the markets. The trip took almost nine hours. It smelled. But it was better than killing them.”

He brought his eyes back to Dean, who was furrowing his brow as if Castiel was insane.

“What?”

“You’re thinking about pigs?” Dean asked.

Castiel sighed wearily.

Dean shrugged. “Well, we could go see ‘em. If you want.”

Now, Castiel’s brow lined. “The pigs? I’m fairly certain they were slaughtered.”

“No, not the—” Dean groaned. “Your folks.”

Castiel would rather not.

“Might be nice,” Dean pressed on. “I wouldn’t mind meeting them.”

Castiel shook his head. “They don’t want to see me.”

“You mean, you don’t wanna see them?” Dean corrected, as if reading Castiel’s mind.

“I want to go to sleep,” Castiel answered, changing the subject. His face was beginning to pound, and he didn’t know if that was because of his wounds or the current topic. He walked from the center of the ring toward Dean, who was pouting.

“I thought we were gonna go out,” Dean reminded him. “Only got one more night here. I got some club recommendations before the fight.” He grinned handsomely, which he knew usually got him his way, and sauntered closer to Castiel. He wrapped his arms loosely around Castiel’s waist, making their chests brush. “Get some drinks in you and your face’ll hurt less.”

Castiel was exhausted, and it wasn’t as though Dean had never seen Chicago before, but he had promised Dean a night on the town.

“And you defended your title tonight,” Dean said. “That calls for a toast!”

“Is that what you want to do?” Castiel asked, his eyes drinking in Dean’s ruggedly enticing face. He cupped his sore hands around Dean’s elbows.

Dean smiled again. “Hell, yes!”

As much as Castiel wished he could rest, lying in bed right now wouldn’t be the same without Dean. He still hadn’t found a way to say no to Dean, anyway. “Fine. Then, let’s go.”

With a smug smile, Dean leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth. It stung a little, but Castiel gladly took the pain that came along with the warm feeling the kiss left.

Dean pulled away and headed for his coat, saying over his shoulder, “C’mon, go put your tie and jacket back on. I’ll go get us a cab.” He left the ring and hustled down the stairs, headed for an exit door.

Castiel lingered for another second, looking over his shoulder at the center of the ring. Beyond, the stadium was still vacant. When it had been filled and the crowd had been cheering his name, he’d felt as if he’d been flying. He wondered if this was what it would feel like after he retired: like he was being pulled to the ground.

Shaking the thought away, he exited the ring and went to the dressing room to collect his things.

#Let's FUCKIN GOOOO #destiel #deancas #destieledit #deancasedit #destiel fic #deancas fic #dean winchester #deanedit #castiel #casedit #castieledit #my writing #my post #heavyweight #boxing au

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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable IV ➻❥ Preview

Azriel x Reader

a/n: omfg guys I really meant to have this chapter ready to go today but I’m last minute going to some oddities show tonight and still need to finish the end of the chapter. I don’t want to leave you guys thirsty so here’s a lil preview of what’s to come ✨

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Eris purred, holding out his hand to you. His eyes roamed down the length of your body before they met yours.

You placed your hand in his, blushing slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Would you allow me the honor of being your first dance tonight, Princess?”

Azriel growled in warning from behind you but you ignored him, instead looking towards your brother. He gave you a slight dip of the head as permission to leave your post, so you let Eris help you down the dais steps.

Eris escorted you to the dance floor just as a new song began. You let Eris begin to lead you through the dance, one hand in his and the other one on his shoulder, as his free arm looped around your waist.

“It is a surprise to see Rhysand finally letting his coveted little bird out of her cage,” Eris whispered into your ear as he twirled you around the dance floor, a devilish smirk on his face.

“He can be persuaded,” you whispered back with a feline smile of your own.

“Does that have anything to do with a shadowsinger who looks like he wants to kill me more than usual?”

As he spun you around, you couldn’t help but glance at Azriel. He had moved from his post closer to the dance floor, to keep you and Eris in his line of sight.

His eyes were narrowed, his shadows spiraling around him like snakes ready to attack, as he watched you dance with Eris. You wanted to roll your eyes at his behavior. He didn’t get to be a complete asshole to you and then act all protective.

“It has nothing to do with the shadowsinger,” you answered, gasping as Eris yanked you closer just in time to get out of the way of another couple drunkenly dancing. “It was all my negotiating that got me my new title. So I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now?”

“It seems so, my Lady,” Eris crooned.

His amber eyes flashed to something over your shoulder and based on the smirk that spread on his face, that something was probably a certain fuming shadowsinger.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #untouchable #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand sister

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retellingthehobbit · 1 month

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I am very excited to post the next chapter of The Hobbit comic!

It is taking a long time because of the elaborate background art. If I really push myself and split it into two, I may be able to post it April 13th. if not, it will be posted May 13th.

My biggest inspirations for the next chapter are the “journey sequences” in Miyazaki movies like My Neighbor Totoro, and the journey sequences in the Lord of the Rings films.

Thank you to my Patrons for supporting my art and allowing me to justify buying new photoshop brushes to use in my paintings. You can join my patreon and see weekly art/comic previews here.

Posting weekly Patreon updates has made me realize how fast I draw. It turns out I can keep up with a weekly update schedule; my previous “20 pages per 2 months”/ 2 pages a week schedule was just absurdly fast, even if it didn’t feel that way.

Thank you all for reading! And get ready for Chapter 18, coming— eventually!

#the hobbit #retelling the hobbit #patreon #not chapters

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justsome-di · 1 year

Photo

Now a Pulitzer Prize winning book (don’t fact check this, just trust me) and featured on Obama’s 2023 Summer Reading List!

You should be reading Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs! Why? See above.

It’s a good story if I do say so myself. And if you read it, you’re a cool kid. Don’t you want to be a cool kid? This is something called peer pressure, and it usually works.

But for real, if you read Nobody Ends Up Dead then you’re going to go on a good adventure with good characters I guarantee you will love. Not to brag, but it is a pretty good story. There’s funny one-liners, a cute plot, and relatable characters that have been developed for years. Just heed warnings at the beginning of chapters. NEUD deals with some heavy topics such as eating disorders.

NEUD is officially all online for free. But you can still access bonus chapters and short stories on Patreon for only $4.

Links:

AO3

Wattpad

Patreon (Patrons had early access to the whole novel and also get exclusive short stories with the characters and sneak peaks for new projects!)

Netflix Previews

Characters’ Playlists

You can also check out my carrd if there are any updates to how/where I post, it’ll probably be the most accurate place to find new or updated links.

Transcript under cut:

The Story is Dope

A New York office worker and a sex worker get set up on a date--one thinking it's a real blind date, the other under the impression it's an ordinary appointment. After realizing it was all a shitty prank, they set out for revenge. Their plan: show up to an upcoming Halloween office party as a genuine couple, convincing the pranksters they genuinely fell in love and refusing to let themselves become the butt of the joke.

Our main characters are Alex, an awkward admin assistant for a medical company who hasn't been on a date since he was a teenager, and Damián, a sex worker who seems way out of Alex's league but keeps insisting on spending time with him so they can perfect their revenge scheme.

The novel features a diverse cast and explores sex positivity. I also like to believe that it portrays sex work well. Damián is a hardworking man, doing what he loves, and meeting mostly great people along the way--but he also would benefit greatly if sex work was decriminalized and therefore had better resources at his disposal.

If you're looking for a story with LGBT characters that's mostly light-hearted but still packs a punch every few chapters, this is it! Overall, it's a happy story.

The Characters!

oh boy the characters!

we got Damián who's hardworking and doting on his lil bro but oh wow does he have some angst

we got Alex who is nothing more than a burning ball of anxiety trying his best--all too relatable

Leo, Damián's bro, is an ally, and he will make sure everyone knows. Also has angst.

Eve, Alex's lil sister, is an edgy teen who's failing calc and runs a queer book club

together, they're a weird lil dysfunctional family

I'll be honest. There's a lot of love in this story. From me and among the characters. The characters love each other, and I think the readers love them, too.

It touches on a lot of loneliness--inspired by how I've felt since Covid started--and a lot of the conflicting emotions that come with being gay. What happy endings do we deserve? What about happy middles?

It's a touching book about learning to be a better person and finding people who love you--platonically and romantically.

Here are some of my fave parts:

And then there was a streak of gray hair that shocked Alex. A streak of gray hair off to the side, nestled close to a salt and pepper beard. Textured hands held cocktails. Little, subtle lines creased when mouths laughed. Alex held his breath. On the packed floor, they were the only people Alex could see. They were laughing and holding each other and enjoying themselves, firmly in the place they knew they belonged. Flashes of teeth pressed against each other, disappearing for long seconds at a time.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “Your arm got heavy on top of me.” “You’re a little mouse of a man. I didn’t mean to crush you.” “I’m what?”

“A dog!” Damián cooed as he sat across from the lesbians. “His name is Yam,” Martin said.

“His name is Yam,” Damián cried. Kris and Clara released Yam and gently nudged him to Damián. Ecstatic, Damián picked him up and set him on his lap. “His name is Yam,” he repeated to Alex. “I heard.”

But he couldn’t deny that he was having a good time. It was like intense yoga with the perk of having a cock shoved up his ass. He was going to feel limber as fuck after.

“Can I do anything?” Alex asked. “To help cheer you up?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’d like to. If you let me.”

“Wow this sounds great where can I read it?”

Tumblr @justsome-di

Watpadd @justsome-di

Patreon @just some di (link on Tumblr)

AO3 @justsome_di

Updates every friday!

#writeblr #writblr #nobody ends up dead

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lexosaurus · 8 months

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The Phantom Martian: Chapter 1

Huzzah! I am here to provide a fic for Invisobang 2023!

This is a crossover between The Martian and Danny Phantom. You do NOT need to have read or watched The Martian to understand this fic (though, I recommend it because it's amazing!)

xxxx

Summary: When Astronaut Mark Watney went to Mars, he knew there was a chance he'd never come home. Now, though, he's determined to last long enough for NASA to save him because this whole dying for science thing is not as fun as it sounds.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton is just trying to keep his identity a secret amidst a potential crisis with his powers. Seriously, what's up with that weird current under his skin? Why is he having so much trouble controlling it? And why does it feel so familiar...?

In a fit of determination (and possible stupidity), Danny goes to Mars to save Watney, only to add to both their crises when he arrives and can't get home. Will NASA save them? Will Danny have a home to return to if they do?

Chapter WC: 6,186

Fic Tags: Danny Fenton & Mark Watney, Canon Divergence, Ecton AU

Art by @pompomqt (it's so freaking good AHHHH!) Art by @friendzoned61 (screaming sobbing this is amazing)

xxxx

I am going to be updating a chapter each day of this posting week, and then I'll settle into a normal weekly/biweekly posting schedule.

I go into more detailed thank yous on AO3, but quickly I'd like to extend a hugeeeee thank you to @armed-with-knitting-needles, @bibliophilea, @lexiepiper, and @underforeversgrace for aiding in this fic. Between sitting on discord with me for hours doing math, betaing my infamous spelling habits, and in general providing much needed support in the form of memes, graphs, and good humor, these people are all AMAZING and I am forever in all of your debts 🙏

Since I'm not posting the chapters themselves on Tumblr, I put a preview excerpt under the cut! Enjoy!

xxxx

It had been a day since the news about the disastrous Mars mission was released.

NASA's website where satellite images of the Ares 3 camp were published had gotten so much traffic that the server went down for twelve hours.

Everyone wanted to see it. The wind storm. The camp in ruins.

The aftermath.

Of course, NASA wasn't pointing their satellites at Ares 3 anymore. There was no reason to now that the surviving five crew members were well on their way back to Earth in the Hermes .

God, what Danny would give to see the inside of that ship. If it was on Earth, the temptation to fly down to Cape Canaveral and invisibly peek inside would have easily won him over. But unfortunately, the Hermes has never been to Earth. It wasn't powered by regular rocket fuel, it was powered by ion engines — whatever that meant.

All Danny knew was that the Hermes needed to be assembled in space instead of on Earth. It was shipped up chunk by chunk to the International Space Station where it was put together in orbit.

Which was just rude.

#danny phantom #the martian #invisobang 2023 #phicc #my writing #Ecton AU #we did. so much math.#soooooo much math #and research too #i literally have a folder of research papers on my desktop #i could have written citations in this fic #after IB is over...we'll probably do a full writeup of all the ectoplasm science #but for now #please enjoy this monstrosity of a fic

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shepherds-of-haven · 5 months

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SHEPHERDS OF HAVEN ALPHA PREVIEW UPDATE [11/29/23]

The Shepherds of Haven alpha preview has been updated here!

Note: This is not the same thing as the public demo, which is available for everyone and covers the first four chapters of the game: the alpha preview is the early access version available to Patrons and testers!

TOTAL WORDCOUNT: 1,047,415 WORDS WITHOUT CODE

WHAT’S NEW:

9,000 words of new content!

Croelle, Sibella de Vespe, and... an item from an earlier chapter that you might have been wondering what to do with? 👀

A little hint of Prihine at the end if she's alive...

Play it cool like a courtier or go hogwild like the feral gremlin you've always dreamed of being: it's your choice!

Please be sure to read the specific developer notes on Patreon for more info, as well as check the Incomplete Routes Guide linked in the alpha build post if you have questions about how to proceed through the alpha build!

WHAT’S NEXT:

At least Prihine's part of Chapter 9, plus a character interlude or some Ascendancy Festival stuff! Chapter 9 has a big politicking section coming up next, so I'm likely to take a bit of a break from that by chipping away at supplementary routes before working up the nerve to tackle the big fish--but on the other hand, I have to admit that I'm having way more fun with Croelle than I thought I would. In the books, I was like, ambivalent towards him at best, and I know I spent years telling you guys not to like him because he doesn't have to eat fruit, but you know what... now that he's fully present, I'm kind of digging him. He is rotating around in my mind and I want to pick him apart like a little bug. So we'll see where the magnetic pull is strongest next month!

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy! I look forward to seeing your thoughts, and hope you had a great Thanksgiving if you celebrated and that you have a great end to your November! 🧡🤎🦃

#Shepherds of Haven #update #alpha build #alpha preview #spoilers #heavy #chapter 9 #Patreon

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deancaspinefest · 3 months

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A Glacial Pace

Author: ixia_ixora | Artist: Aggiedoll

Posting on Tuesday April 16

Tired of his simple and conforming life, Castiel decides to move away from his city life to a small town by the mountains in Montana. Deciding to begin this new chapter of his life with an adventure, Castiel signs up for a hike across a glacier. With his heart in his throat and a hot hiking guide named Dean Winchester on his knees to help him with the harness, Castiel manages the hike, coming back time after time; for the nature and for Dean. A small town leaves little room for anonymity and between his shifts at the hospital and the glacier hikes, Dean is determined to not let Cas waste his time away in his small apartment. And it doesn't take long until a friendship is formed between them. But Castiel didn't leave the city without reason and there is only so long he can keep his real life at bay. Or Castiel finds himself on top of a glacier with a certain green-eyed man who will change the trajectory of his life in the most unexpected of ways.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Hey, it’s fine,” Dean says, moving in front of Castiel and places his other hand on Castiel’s other shoulder. “Breathe with me.”

Castiel glances over Dean’s shoulder, looking at the other people in the glacier. Dean ducks his head down, trying to catch his eyes.

“Hey,” he smiles gently as Castiel focuses on him. His eyes are very green in the warm sun. “Breathe in.”

Castiel takes a deep breath, feeling it fill his lungs and stomach. He closes his eyes, concentrating on the air in his chest. When he feels Dean breathe out he does the same.

“If you fall into the glacier it won't be more than a few feet, the rope will catch you and we will drag you up,” Dean says, thumbs rubbing circles on Castiel’s shoulders. “There’s nothing to worry about, I’m right behind you,” Dean repeats. “And if you do fall it’ll be a hell of a cool story to tell later on.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Tuesday April 16)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: ixia_ixora #artist: Aggiedoll #Friends to lovers #Slow burn #Bedsharing

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abitohoney · 9 months

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Bend and Break (Not Just the Rules)

Chapter 1 of 5 - More Than Just a Crush AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Modern AU, College/University AU, Professor Sevika, Student Reader, Humor, Porn With Plot, Eventual Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, a lot of this is probably super cliché and a bit silly, but I don’t give two shits cause it’s fucking hot and funny, Drinking, Masturbation, Smoking, Teasing, Size Difference, Enthusiastic Consent, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Sub Reader, Light BDSM, Impact Play, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, (yes I like the emotional whiplash of both kinks), Vaginal Fingering, Strap-Ons, Orgasm Delay, Choking, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Aftercare

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: When a hot professor in your field of study enters your radar, you’re quick to jump at the opportunity to get closer by taking her class. Temptations eventually lead the two of you to bend and break more than just the rules.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3. Trying to catch up here. Dedicated to the sweet and lovely @frooopsen (who makes much wiser choices in life than our silly reader does here 😆) Banner used with permission from @gabrielsellesty. You can find their original post here AAAnd one more thing. If you haven't seen it yet, please check out @sevikascrown's gorgeous artwork of Professor Sevika here.

The first day of a new class was always nerve-wracking, but there was one class that really set your nerves aflame, just in an entirely different way than one might expect.

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

You were the first one to arrive that day, and chose a seat closest to the professor’s desk. Nothing out of the ordinary, but you were rather excited for this class in particular. Not for the subject matter. Hell, you’d already taken the class the previous semester and passed with flying colors. But there was a new teacher that had taken over after the previous had retired. One you’d been dying to have a class with since you’d first spotted them when passing their office. Professor Sevika.

Though she was by far the most feared professor by a majority of your peers, known for her stoic appearance, short temper, and damn near impossible to pass exams, she was- at least in your mind- the most alluring woman you’d ever laid eyes on. She was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, only she also held all the softness and delightful curves of a woman.

So when she strode through the open door, her attention on the pile of textbooks and papers in her arms, you couldn’t help but beam at her. You just prayed she couldn’t see how your legs bounced excitedly beneath the table.

“Evening Professor!” you chimed.

Sevika, not expecting anyone attending one of her classes to ever arrive early, glanced towards you in restrained surprise before her signature scowl set back in place. She continued towards her desk without a word before dropping her books on it with a dramatically loud thump . Without looking your way, she murmured a curt, “You’re early,” and took a seat at the desk.

So I can have more time with you.

“Just excited for this class,” you replied, still beaming and hoping she’d give you at least a small glance.

She did, but only that. Her gray eyes peered over her reading glasses your way briefly before dropping to one of the textbooks she’d opened. A murmured, “Hm,” was all she offered you.

Short on words. That’s fine. Plenty to just look at.

You fidgeted with your pen, slowly clicking the button to extend and retract it while you let your gaze wander over the woman before you.

She wore a dark red button-up blouse that fit snugly over her chest. Though you couldn’t see it from her seated position, you knew she always wore it tucked neatly into her pants. The sleeves were rolled back to reveal a sneak preview of biceps that she could easily use to crush a man’s head, or a woman’s- specifically yours if you had your way. She also donned a simple golden chain that hung teasingly low, slipping beneath her blouse and most assuredly resting between her cleavage. Gods, you were damn near salivating at the sight of her. How on earth did the other students not see this? Granted, most of your fellow students were male, and you were quite certain your professor was only into women. Not to judge a book by its cover, but her cover screamed ‘LESBIAN’ in all caps and bright neon letters. Mind still wandering over all those reasons, your gaze rose from her chest to her face, only to be met with a narrowed pair of gray eyes.

Shit!

She caught you gaping at her fucking tits.

“Do you mind?” she grumbled.

Your cheeks could not possibly get any hotter as you fumbled stupidly for an apology- an excuse- anything to cover your shameful mistake. “I- I’m so sorry I-”

“If you need something to keep that hand busy, I suggest you review the first chapter of your textbook.”

Wait. What? Keep that hand busy?

Your attention dropped to your hand, which you only then realized was rather frantically clicking the pen in it.

Oh. Oops.

You immediately set the pen down and mumbled another feeble apology. As suggested, you quickly opened your textbook; Fluid Mechanics. Yet another thing about her that drove your infatuation to such a high level. The fact that she taught such a class- that she was that fucking smart- was just so… hot .

Try as you might, you couldn’t focus on any of the text before you. Your mind was reeling at the sound of her voice in your head. At the words she spoke.

If you need something to keep that hand busy…

Dozens of alternative endings to that statement rolled through your head in that low, rich voice of hers, none of which were by any means appropriate for a professor to speak to their student.

Curious if she had returned to her task, you slowly peered up from your textbook, only to quickly look back down when you found her narrowed eyes still on you from over the ridge of her glasses. Good god did she look good in those glasses too! But you could understand why most of her students were scared shitless of her. Given her large stature, noticeably toned muscles, and a stony glare mean enough to put even the mouthiest punk in their place, she was definitely a scary lady. However, to you, that was undeniably attractive. Hell, maybe you even preferred your women a little mean .

So began your silly little crush. Always the first to arrive to class, and always the last to leave. Greeted her each time with a big smile and received at least a glance from her, and at most a succinct reply. It did little to deter you though. If anything, it encouraged you to keep at it. Urged you to try breaking through that rock-hard exterior of hers. To find a weak point and grab her attention and approval. You started asking more and more questions during class- questions you already knew the answers to. You were the only student to excitedly raise their hand at any of her difficult questions. Surely she’d be fond of a student so engaged, eager to learn, and capable of proving they have learned.

It wasn’t until nearly halfway through the semester that you had the sudden realization that this had become something more than just a crush. That this had turned into a dangerous infatuation. One incident, in particular, became the real eye-opener. But, by that point, you were too far gone to go back.

In your typical seat front and center, you found yourself struggling to focus on the lecture. Not because it was boring or old news to you, but because Professor Sevika had apparently been rather warm that day, having undone one extra button on her blouse. Try as you might to keep your eyes locked on hers as she lectured, your attention repeatedly fell to the bit of cleavage revealed and the shiny gold chain that rested between it.

Her words quickly started to blur together as your mind drifted into a daydream. A fantasy .

Your eyelids eventually grew heavy as your surroundings began to blur and fade until it was only you and your professor in the room.

In your mind, she was no longer giving a lecture. She was speaking directly to you.

You couldn't quite make out what exactly she said, just the sound of her deep, sexy voice. You licked your lips as you watched hers move when she spoke. They looked so dark, soft, and… kissable .

She walked around the front of her desk to lean back against it, gray eyes on you as she spoke.

Your gaze drifted down to her legs, covered in the most deliciously tight gray slacks. They hugged literally the full length of her legs- from her toned calves to her thick thighs. Thighs you could imagine your head between. Thighs you did imagine your head between.

You could see it play out behind your closed eyes so vividly.

She sat at the desk chair, thighs spread wide as always. Her scowl quickly faded into a cocky smirk as she peered down at you from where you knelt between her legs. You eagerly, but obediently, waited for her approval to touch her. She ran the back of her hand- her so delightfully large hand- gently across your cheek. “Such a good girl. So patient,” she said softly. The praise left you rubbing your thighs together, trying desperately to relieve some of that ache- that desire. She gave you a simple nod and your hands immediately went to the tops of her thighs to run along the muscles beneath her pants. If only you could feel the skin beneath. Your gaze darted to the dark leather belt that rested along her curvy hips. You weren’t sure why she even needed a belt given how her pants fit like a damn second skin, but more importantly- it was an obstacle. Something preventing you from removing her slacks, from getting to that rich, brown skin of hers.

Your vision started to lose focus and the image behind your eyes blurred until you found her thighs positioned directly in your line of sight. That damn gold buckle on her belt taunted you. It made your fingers twitch with the urge to loosen it, remove it so you could slowly peel back her pants and reveal whatever treasures lie beneath. Your half-lidded eyes drifted further down, to the apex of her thighs where her pants fit so fucking tight .

Then, you heard your name- spoken in that low, sultry voice of hers- and as if with a mind of its own, your hand slipped between your thighs to ease the sudden throbbing that induced. Your lips parted, allowing a quiet, soft mewl to escape. Your eyes slowly drifted up to your professor’s, and you realized entirely too late that your little fantasy had gone way too far. That it had bled into your reality and you had made a terrible scene.

Without warning, Sevika’s hand came crashing down on your desk. The loud, resonating slap echoed through your muddled head and instantly ripped you from your little reverie. You were thrown back into reality, hit hard with the realization that you were rubbing your thighs together, touching yourself beneath the table, and fucking moaning while ogling your professor.

Oh god, shoot me now.

“I’d like to have a word with you after class,” she said sternly.

You peered up at her meekly, feeling terribly ashamed, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. "Y- Yes ma'am," you managed to quietly squeak out.

To your surprise, she didn’t really look angry. Just… confused? Concerned? Either way, it did nothing to ease the nauseating feeling that took over the earlier pleasant ache low in your belly.

As Sevika made her way back to her desk, you glanced around the room. It seemed none of your classmates were privy to what exactly you had done, but all eyes were wide and honed in on you.

You’d need to come up with a damn good excuse for your behavior, but as your eyes darted to the clock on the wall behind your professor, you found that was unfortunately not going to be possible.

“Test this Friday,” Professor Sevika called to the class as she took a seat.

While the entire class erupted into simultaneous groans and sighs, you sat quietly panicking over what the hell you were going to tell your Professor about your behavior. How the fuck do you cover up the fact that you were touching yourself to filthy fantasies of her?

As the rest of the class quickly filtered out of the room, you slowly gathered up your items and stuffed them into your bag, all while trying desperately to avoid eye contact with your professor or anyone around you.

Once only you and your professor remained, you reluctantly made your way to her desk, head hung low and eyes on the floor.

From her seat at the desk, Professor Sevika simply peered up at you, brows furrowed. In complete silence .

You’re not sure how long she let you simmer there like that, watching as you nervously shifted from one foot to the other, but it was long enough that you decided to finally lift your gaze to meet hers. You instantly regretted it, because she then removed her glasses, drawing your attention to those smoky gray eyes, which she had trained on you. Any words you’d had prepared to explain yourself vanished. Poof! Just like that. Gone. Replaced with useless thoughts. Thoughts that would only get you into deeper trouble.

Her eyes are so intense. So pretty.

Thankfully, your professor finally spoke up, breaking the awkward silence and disrupting your trailing thoughts.

“You’ve been paying less and less attention in class over the past couple of months, and I understand why now.”

Your heart sank back into the pit of your stomach again. You’d been caught acting horribly inappropriate and you were about to get chewed out for it. Maybe even kicked from the class. Your gaze dropped again and the heat returned to your cheeks.

“I’m so sor-”

“However-” she interrupted, grabbing your attention again, “-you’ve been outperforming your peers. Your test and quiz scores have been near perfect. I’m… impressed.”

Your eyes darted to hers.

Did- Did she just say she was impressed?

You remained silent, just waiting for her to get to the part where she scolds you for fantasizing and touching yourself during class.

“I looked at your transcript this morning. I see you’ve already taken this class. Passed with the highest grade even, so I can understand why you wouldn’t feel the need to pay attention.”

Wait- what?

You tried not to let her see how baffled you were, but it was damn near impossible to hide when you’d been so damn sure the conversation would go in an entirely different direction. How could she not have noticed what you were doing?

“What I don’t understand is why you’re taking this class again.”

Relief washed over you. Not only did she apparently miss your little show, she also seemed calm, not angry. She even seemed… intrigued ?

Thankfully, you were able to come up with something quick-witted, because you sure as hell couldn’t tell her the real reason.

“I needed extra hours for insurance purposes, and I really enjoyed this class.”

She simply stared at you for a moment– and good god that heated gaze of hers was somehow both terribly unnerving and incredibly arousing at the same time.

“Your talent would have been put to better use in a class you haven’t taken yet.”

You thought hiding your shock before had been difficult, but she’d just dropped the second compliment in the short span you two had been talking.

“I- I suppose so, but this is my last semester. I don’t need any more courses.”

“Hm. Interesting,” she replied, and you could have sworn you caught those dark lips of hers pull up at the corner just a bit, but it was gone so quickly you weren’t sure if it had just been in your head. “Well, I’d like to ask that you at least pretend to pay attention so as to set an example for the rest of the class.”

“Understood, ma’am. Again, I’m terribly sorry.”

With a simple nod, she dismissed you and turned her attention to the pile of papers on her desk.

You left as quickly as you could, desperately trying not to look as crazy as you felt.

CH2 >>

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes

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