#and you'll be getting it in the next chapter

[penascigarette]

Smooth Operator Ch 1. A New Client ➴ Joel Miller x f!phone sex operator

➴wc: 6.7k | summary: You unexpectedly find yourself drawn to a new client during a late-night call, who ignites a surprising wave of desire within you. As you engage in a steamy conversation, you realize this encounter is unlike any you've had before, leaving you eager for more and questioning the boundaries of your professional life.

➴warnings: mdni, phone sex, mxm phone sex, fxm phone sex, m&f masterbation lots of dirty talking, use of princess, shitty moodboard

➴an: hi! i hope you enjoy the first chapter of the first fic I have ever posted. if I have missed any warnings please let me know. feedback is super appreciated! now I will go run and hide lol. and a big tysm to @saradika-graphics for making such lovely dividers!

masterlist | series masterlist

You love sleeping, and just as passionately, you love your bed. Whenever you wake up in the morning, you spend at least ten minutes wrapped up in your duvet, savoring the warmth and comfort as you tease yourself with the idea of a nap.

This morning is no different. The sun shines outside, making your dark purple curtains look lighter than they actually are. If you open your eyes, you know you'll see dust particles floating through the air.

You take a deep breath through your nose and immediately wish you'd opened your windows to let in some fresh air. But you never do, even though you think about it every morning. It's too risky. Open windows are an open invitation to your worst fear—spiders.

Just the thought of their tiny, hairy bodies and long, wiggly legs sends a shiver down your spine. You pull the duvet tighter around your shoulders, practically imagining the creepy crawlies on your skin.

And of course, that's when your roommate, Elliot, decides it’s the perfect time to tickle your ear with one of his long, pink, kinky feathers—used for who-knows-what.

You scream, jump, and scramble off the bed like it’s suddenly caught fire. Your eyes—probably bloodshot with dark bags underneath—narrow at the grinning culprit, who is currently doubled over in a fit of laughter on the right side of your king-sized bed.

“What the fuck,” you huff, too tired to find any humor in this. You were so warm and cozy, and now that feeling is ruined for the next twenty-four hours. “You’re a real dick, you know that?”

 “Y-your face!” he chokes out between giggles. He looks far too fresh-faced for someone who’s just rolled out of bed. Still in his pajamas, his messy hair—short on the sides with a wave on top—looks like it hasn’t seen a brush this morning.

“It's not funny!” you argue, your voice rising over the sound of his laughter. You’re this close to stomping your foot at him. “I thought you were a spider!” Standing there in nothing but pink pajama bottoms and a black strap top, your skin prickles with goosebumps. Yet again, you curse him for ruining your warm, safe burrito.

That only makes him laugh harder. It’s hard to believe this man-child is twenty-eight years old when he acts less than half his age most of the time.

At the sound of his snort, you feel your lips twitch against your will. No, you’re pissed at him—there’s no way he’s going to make you laugh. But very quickly, you’re losing the battle. Have you ever tried not laughing with someone who has an impossibly contagious laugh? It’s damn near impossible.

“Whatever!” you say, rolling your eyes as a reluctant smile finally breaks across your face. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to look stern, but Elliot knows he’s won this round

“It’s getting late,” he says, still chuckling. His green eyes are watery from laughing, making them sparkle as he grins at you. Rolling onto his left side, he props his head up with one hand—the one holding the feather—while his other hand runs through his sandy-brown hair, slicking it back. “And you slept through your alarms again, so I thought I’d help you out.”

Damn, have you really? It wouldn’t be the first time. Waking you is like trying to wake the dead.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Fair enough, he had to wake you, but—“Did you have to use your kinky, sex feather...thing?” You shiver in disgust. “Who knows where that’s been.”

He shrugs innocently, twirling the offending object between his fingers. “Nowhere gross...” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles once more. “Only up Danny’s ass.”

Your eyes widen, and you splutter. “What? Oh, my god—Jesus, that’s just—” You gag in the back of your throat. “You said it hadn’t been anywhere gross!”

He laughs again, sitting up. “I was telling the truth. Danny’s ass was far from gross.” A faraway look crosses his face. “It was heaven,” he muses wistfully before frowning. “God, I miss him.”

“Oh, honey,” you soften immediately, making your way to the bed and crawling toward Elliot to offer some comfort.

You know Danny and Elliot’s breakup was hard on him. He’d been completely in love with that man and was about to ask him to move in—with you both—when Danny decided to end the year-and-a-half relationship. It just wasn’t working was his excuse, but Elliot later found out the truth when Danny updated his Facebook page: he’d left Elliot for someone else.

“He didn’t deserve you,” you say, trying to make him feel better as you drape an arm around his shoulders. Sitting back on your heels, you add, “He was a dick for what he did. You shouldn’t be sad. He’s the one who lost someone who loved him. The only thing you lost was—”

“A twat-waffle who didn’t deserve me, I know,” he cuts you off, reciting your usual line before you can finish. You’ve said it enough times in the past three months since the breakup that he knows it by heart. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but...doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know,” you respond quietly, your thoughts drifting to your own breakup. It’s been over a year now, but the pain still lingers. Your ex had been your first boyfriend—hell, your first everything. You’d met when you were seventeen, and you moved in with him before your next birthday. Everything happened so fast, and you didn’t see the cracks until it was too late. “But we have each other, right?” you say, giving Elliot a little shake.

He glances at you, his expression vulnerable. Big eyes, plucked thin eyebrows, a slight bump on his nose from when a bully broke it in his teens, full lips, high cheekbones, and when he smiles, dimples form on his cheeks.

“Yeah?” he replies, hopeful. “Even if I wake you up with a feather that’s been up my ex’s ass?”

You roll your eyes, pulling away to thump him on the arm. “Fucker,” you mutter as he starts giggling all over again. “Remind me why I love you?”

Grinning, he reaches into the pocket of his pajama shorts and pulls out his phone. "Because I'm adorable," he answers distractedly as he stares at the screen. "Oh, my first caller of the day! And it's Simon," he whispers the last part to you as if Simon could hear. "He sounds like a whale when he comes, but boy, does he have a gorgeous sex voice," he informs you. You snort as he accepts the call. "Why hello there, lover."

While Elliot makes himself comfortable against your pillows, you climb off the bed and head toward your wardrobe. You already have your outfit in mind—a pair of leggings and a plain white shirt.

"Mmm, that sounds so sexy, baby," you hear Elliot purr in the background, and you smile, shaking your head. You can’t imagine what people would think about you being in the same room as your guy roommate while he talks dirty to one of your clients, meanwhile, you're getting changed in the corner.

It’s a strange situation, to say the least.

As you remove your shirt with your back turned to Elliot, you can’t help but listen in to the conversation.

"I'd love to touch your nipples," Elliot hums behind you, getting into character. You know how much he loves talking dirty to guys. It’s a turn-on for him. Unlike you, who only really enjoys sex if it’s with someone you love. Elliot is way more adventurous and has had more one-night stands than you can count. "I'd love to stroke them, caress them, lick them. . .”

"Suck them," you add when you hear Elliot hesitate. You pull the straps of your bra up your arms and hook it at the back. 

“Oh, and suck them," Elliot says as you pull your top on.

Since Elliot is still fairly new to this, he needs help sometimes. His situation had been very similar to yours—a broken-up relationship, no job, and forced to move back in with his mum until someone came along and gave him hope. For Elliot, that person was you. For you, that person was your boss, Jane.

Elliot's voice lowers as he talks to his client. "Your body is so pretty, honey. I can't wait to trace my tongue up and down your belly, and then start going lower and lower until I reach your—”

You cough quietly to yourself, trying to hide your smile as you change into your leggings and slip on a pair of fluffy pink socks. You’ve heard Elliot talk dirty loads of times, and he’s heard you talk dirty just as many. Part of training him was him having to listen in on your conversations, and then you monitoring his. Neither of you gets embarrassed around it anymore. It’s more amusing, to be completely honest.

Deciding to leave Elliot to it, you grab your phone off your bedside cabinet and quietly tiptoe to the door. Before you leave, you look over to Elliot and mouth, Coffee?

He nods enthusiastically at you and mouths back, Yes, please!

You’re halfway down the steps when you rub your eye and feel the crumbly sensation of mascara under your fingertip. You’ve forgotten to take your makeup off the night before. You curse to yourself before heading back upstairs to fetch a makeup wipe.

When you reach your room once more, Elliot looks at you questioningly before he notices your face. His lips curl into his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. You roll your eyes and put your middle finger up at him before heading over to your dresser, which sits directly opposite your bed. You open the top drawer and feel through the ridiculous amount of makeup and beauty products you’ve collected over time. As your fingers search, your eyes stare forward at your flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. You can see Elliot's reflection.

"God, you feel so tight around me," Elliot is telling his customer, and you bite your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Finally, your fingers grip the packet of wipes, and you pull them free. "I'm gonna come inside of your ass so damn hard—," Elliot is cut off by a muffled roar, and you turn to look at him questioningly.

He is still sitting on your bed, back against the pillows with one hand holding the phone far away from his ear. He has an uncomfortable look on his face, and it’s then you realize the noise has come from the phone. Or, more accurately, the noise is the loud, animal-like groans of a man coming hard.

Oh my god," you whisper to him quietly, now understanding what Elliot had meant by Simon sounding like a whale when he came.

Elliot uses his other hand to cover the bottom half of the phone, preventing Simon from hearing you speak. "Every. Damn. Time," he replies just as quietly, looking so serious it makes you giggle. He cracks his own smile before bringing the phone back to his ear. "Oh, that sounded like a good one, baby."

You’re glad Simon isn’t one of your callers because you’re not sure you’d be able to stay professional with that sound in your ear. You take care of your makeup before finally getting started on coffee.

Your living room and kitchen are all in one room. The only thing separating the rooms is the counter you eat at. Silver stools with black padded seats sit underneath, four of them for when you have guests over.

You walk past the L-shaped sofa and the counter. Once the coffee is on, you get started on breakfast. You decide on some cheesy, ham-scrambled eggs. Just as you start mixing the ingredients, your phone vibrates where you’ve placed it on the counter. You lean over far enough to see the screen. When no name appears, only a number, you figure it must be a new client since you save existing clients in your phone book.

You accept the call and bring it to your ear. "Hey there," you purr in your sexy voice. You never thought you had one until Elliot pointed it out to you. According to him, it’s a hot one too. "Tell me, gorgeous, what’s your name?"

"Josh." He’s breathing heavily, sounding as if he’s already started the party without you. "I-I'm new to all this…phone stuff," he informs you.

"That's fine, Josh," you say with a slight smile. "My name's Angel, and I’m going to take care of you, all right?" Your name isn’t Angel, but for safety reasons, you’re Angel as far as your customers know. And yes, you’re well aware of how clichéd it is.

"Yes," he tells you, his voice rougher than before. He’s probably getting more excited. Now, all you need to do is find out what he likes.

"Tell me, honey, you like it hard or soft, hm?" you question just as Elliot’s footsteps sound on the stairs.

"God. Hard. I like it hard," Josh answers. "I like it when you take control, with a little pain. Yeah, I like that a lot." In the background, you can hear the sound of his hand working his dick. At least you know he’s enjoying himself.

"Okay, Josh," you nod to yourself, knowing exactly where to go from here. Elliot appears in front of you, his lips forming an 'o' shape when he sees you’re with a client. You nod your head toward the food you’ve been preparing, signaling him to take over as you move away from the counter and toward the living area. Elliot passes you on the way, his hand patting you on the shoulder.

You flop over the arm of the chair and onto the sofa, landing with a bounce on your back. "The first thing I want you to do is to strip for me, now," you order him, reaching toward the coffee table when you spot a magazine there. You bring it over to you and open it. "Are you naked yet?"

"Almost," he practically gasps to you. You can hear some more shuffling, and then he's telling you, "Yes, mistress, I'm naked."

Mistress? You sigh internally. You seriously can't believe how many men are into the whole dominatrix kink. In the beginning, it was kind of fun, but by now, it’s getting pretty old.

Mentally awakening your inner dom, you relax further into the sofa and flip through the magazine. "Good boy," you coo, finding a 20 Sex Tips for Women article. Huh, how fitting. "Now, here's what I want you to do, and you better listen closely, pet."

The call ends up lasting 2 minutes and 28 seconds. Not bad for a newbie.

________

“I might have a date this weekend," Elliot mentions casually, making you glance over the top of your book at him, eyebrows raised.

A few hours have passed since breakfast, and you've had at least seven phone calls since. The two of you are relaxing in the living room, you on one side of your L-shaped sofa and Elliot on the other.

"And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?" you respond, feeling rather hurt. You tell each other everything. You know the penis size of every boyfriend he's had. How can he share that information so easily yet let something like a date stay secret?

He cringes, and you just know you're not going to like what's coming next. "Because..." he hesitates, takes a deep breath, and rushes out, "BecauseitswithDanny." He says it so fast it almost doesn't register, but the name Danny sticks out like a sore thumb.

"What!?" you exclaim, book falling forgotten onto the floor as you sit up. You're completely shocked, and you imagine your expression says everything before you even open your mouth. "How can you—why would you want to after what he did?" You can't understand what's going through Elliot's head, but you seriously want to knock some sense into him.

"I tried hinting to you this morning!" Elliot tells you, sitting up. The magazine he'd been reading earlier falls onto his lap, his attention now completely on you. "I told you I missed him!"

You scoff at that. "A hint is, 'Oh, by the way, I'm thinking of going on a date with my ex.' Not, 'I'm going to tickle you with Danny's ass-feather, complain about missing him, and hope that you get the hint that I'm going out with him this weekend despite the fact he broke my heart!'" You take a deep breath, oxygen running low after that rant. "Look, I know it's none of my business—"

"Of course it's your business. You're my best friend."

"—I just don't want you to get hurt," you continue as you both stare at each other with similar expressions. You're both desperate for the other to understand how you're feeling without wanting to cause any upset. "I love you, honey...and it destroyed you when he left."

"He said he's sorry," Elliot tells you quietly, making you realize just how much they've been talking. A pang of hurt goes through your heart, knowing that Elliot felt like he couldn't talk to you about this. "He said it was a mistake, one he wouldn't make again. But I don't want to jump back into things so...I told him we'll start slow."

"Well," you nod slightly. "That's something, I guess." It comforts you to know that he isn't rushing into the relationship again. Maybe, if they start from scratch, it could work this time. Unfortunately, your gut tells you different. "I'm going to be honest with you, okay?"

Elliot gives you a lopsided smile, causing a single dimple to form on his cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You smile back for a moment before turning serious again. "I think...you're thinking with your heart and not with your head," you tell him softly. "I think you're in love with him, and you miss him, and you're not thinking rationally about this. Which I totally understand, honey. You love him; I know you can't help that. I just worry that Danny knows how you feel about him, and he's going to use it to his advantage." You watch Elliot's expression closely; he's nodding, letting you know he's listening.

You give your lip a quick nibble before continuing. "But if this is something you feel like you need to do, then I'll support you, you know that."

"Thanks, babe," he responds sincerely, but his eyes are sad. "You're right. I know you're right, but...my heart wants this so damn badly."

"What's your gut telling you to do?" you ask him curiously. You’ve always believed in following your instincts.

"Run," he answers with a painful laugh. "Run and don't look back because he's only doing this as a rebound."

You frown at the information. "Rebound?"

Elliot nods, tears filling his eyes. He crosses his legs underneath him, which surprises you given how skinny his jeans are. One arm goes to the back of the sofa while the other runs through his slick-backed hair. He pulls his lips into his mouth for a moment, a habit of his, before telling you, "Him and Voldemort broke up. Danny says he broke it off because he misses me, but I checked Voldemort's page, and it looks like he's gone and gotten himself a new guy."

You hold back a snort at his nickname for Gary. Voldemort. It suits him. From Elliot's information, you're guessing that Danny is only after a rebound, but Elliot doesn't want to admit it because he still wants to be with Danny.

"Honey..." you sigh, scooting across the sofa so you can give Elliot a cuddle. He immediately returns the gesture but stays seated, whereas you lean up on your knees, making you higher than him. You rest your head on top of his, your arms around his neck. You know you don't need to say anything. Elliot knows he's burying his head in the sand. You think he just needs to find out the hard way; otherwise, he'd always regret not trying.

"I'm here for you," you assure him. This is something he needs to do, and you can't protect him from it, no matter how much you want to.

"Thank you," he tells you tearfully. You can hear how upset he is, but he's trying to hold it back. You squeeze him tighter, wishing you could take away all his pain. "You're the best friend a guy could ask for."

Your lips curve at that. "I know," you joke because really, you're not that big-headed. "Now," you say as you pull away but keep your arms around his neck. "What do you say we turn our phones off for a while, get a Chinese, and watch some crappy chick flicks?"

His eyes are bloodshot and wet with tears, but the smile he gives you is genuine happiness. And that you completely understand because food makes you feel the same way. "I love you so much."

--

The film you end up watching is beyond cheesy, but the humor is awesome, and you find yourself giggling along. Your Chinese food is now in your overly-stuffed belly, and the only things left are the containers sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You sit side-by-side with Elliot, shoulders touching, a leopard-print blanket draped over your laps. Both of you ordered a beer with the takeaway. It isn’t enough to get you drunk, but that wasn’t the plan since you need to turn your phones back on for work later.

By the time the film ends, Elliot seems to be in a much better mood. Hopefully, he’ll stay that way for the next few hours.

“Gosh,” Elliot starts, reaching behind the sofa to the side table where a lamp sits. He switches it on, making you both blink against the sudden brightness. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

“Same,” you say, squinting as your eyes adjust. Your muscles feel cramped, so you throw off the blanket and stretch. As you straighten your body, you begin to slide off the sofa but don’t bother stopping it. You let yourself slip onto the floor.

With the coffee table in the way, you have to arrange yourself so you’re lying between the sofa and the table. The wooden flooring is cold against your right arm, while the left side of your body enjoys the comfort of the fur rug.

“Weirdo,” Elliot snorts from above.

“Don’t judge,” you respond, letting out a yawn. Watching films always makes you tired. Maybe it strains your eyes. The floor is oddly tempting right now—so cozy—or maybe Elliot is right, and you’re just a weirdo.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Elliot speaks again, his foot nudging your side. “Can’t sleep now. We’ve got horny customers waiting.”

It’s only then you realize you’ve closed your eyes. “I’m up,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit upright. The smell of Chinese food still lingers in the air. It was absolutely delicious, but your stomach protests now, begging you not to even inhale another whiff of it. You pat your belly proudly, knowing it did a good job handling the feast.

“Good,” Elliot says. “We gotta get to work.”

Neither of you moves.

“For fuck’s sake,” Elliot sighs after a moment, making you crack a smile. “It’s so much effort. I hate... effort,” he says, spitting the word as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

You tilt your head to look at him better. “Just think about all those handsome, horny men stroking their dicks, waiting for you to—”

“I’m up!” Elliot exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hands dive into his pockets as you laugh loudly. “Christ, where’s my phone? My customers need me!” He’s being overly dramatic on purpose, and it makes you giggle even harder.

“It’s not funny!” he tells you, though he’s trying his hardest not to smile. “Who’s going to give those guys their orgasms? This is a serious situation!”

You giggle again, but then you try to put on a straight face. “You’re right. There could be a riot!” you gasp dramatically. “I’ll get on the phone to the prime minister right away!”

“And the president!” Elliot chimes in, but then you make eye contact, and the two of you burst into laughter. Sure, you can act pretty silly sometimes, but it’s healthy. At this age, you feel more mature than most people your age, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be childish once in a while.

Once you both calm down, you know playtime is over. It’s really time to get to work. Sighing, you take Elliot’s hand when he offers it to you, and he easily pulls you up from the floor.

“Thanks, kid,” you tell him, standing on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. You know he hates when you do that.

He lets out a high-pitched squeak and backs away. “You know my rules!”

“No one touches the hair,” you recite dutifully.

“Yes!” he says, rolling his eyes. “And yet you always forget. And what do you mean ‘kid’? I’m older than you!”

“Yes, well, mentally you’re the age of ten, so…”

“Bitch,” he says, lightly punching your arm, and you laugh.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you tease.

He plants his hands on his hips, cocking a hip at you and raising an eyebrow. “Honey, you can’t handle what I’ve got.”

“I’m heading upstairs. Gonna talk dirty to some dudes, grab a shower, change into my pajamas, get some more horny people off, read a book, then go to bed.”

Elliot takes the phone and nods. “Sounds like a damn good plan,” he says, holding up his hand.

You smile and give him a high-five.

--

One of the hardest parts of your job is keeping things fresh and coming up with new ideas. That’s why you love working with Elliot. He’s a guy; he knows what men like, so whenever you feel like you need something different, he’s your go-to.

New customers are always the easiest to please. No matter what you say, it’s fresh to them. Exciting. It’s your recurring customers who require more effort. There are only so many ways to describe a blowjob before it starts feeling repetitive. When you get that feeling of déjà vu, you worry your client does too.

Oh, and trying to figure out what a guy likes? That’s another challenge. Sometimes, it feels like a seriously fucked-up game of I-Spy.

“I spy with my little eye…” Imaginary-you says in a hopeful voice. “A foot fetish? No? Fuck.” You’re rocking back and forth now, losing hope. “I spy with my little—oh, I know! Voyeurism?” you practically beg, thinking about pulling your brains out with a spoon if this doesn’t work. “…Golden showers?”

Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but you get the point. It’s frustrating, especially when the client is shy and doesn’t know what they like themselves.

Deciding you’re getting cranky—probably because you’re tired—you decide to finish half an hour early tonight. You shouldn’t, especially after already losing a few hours of work earlier, but you’ve made enough money to cover your half of rent and bills this month. You’ve still got a week to earn more for food and anything else you need.

So yeah, you’ll finish early.

Yawning, you pull the covers out from underneath your ass before throwing them over yourself. You’re already in your pajamas—a loose pair of pink shorts and a white strap top—and your book sits next to you, waiting to be read.

But just as you pick up your phone, ready to turn it off, a new number flashes on the screen. You stare at it for a moment, wondering if it’s worth leaving. The problem is, with it being a new customer, leaving a bad impression could mean they wouldn’t come back.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, knowing the professional businesswoman in you can’t risk losing what might end up being a recurring customer. As far as you know, this phone call could change your career. You snort at that. Highly unlikely, but it’s going to bring in extra money, which is a good enough reason. “Just this last one, then I’m going to bed,” you tell yourself.

You place the earphones back into your ears and press the green button on your touchscreen. “Hey there, handsome.” There’s a pause, and you briefly wonder if they’ve decided to hang up when he finally speaks.

“Hey,” he responds simply, sounding kind of awkward.

“You caught me just in time,” you say naughtily.

“Oh?” he sounds intrigued, though the awkwardness remains. He’s probably just shy or clueless about what to do. “Why is that?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by how much you’re attracted to his voice. That’s never happened to you before, and he’s barely said five words. Masculine, educated, and gruff. Swoon.

“Um...” You try to get back into character while scolding yourself. The conversation has only just started; you can’t screw it up already. Get your head in the game, girl. “Because I’m wet and needing a man to help me out.” Internally, you wince. That’s pretty weak considering how good you usually are at this.

He doesn’t seem to think so because he releases a sexy, “Shit. I—” He’s breathing heavily, and you wait for him to finish, sensing he has something else he wants to say. “I don’t know if this was a good idea,” he admits after a moment.

Fuck, you’re losing him, and you’re losing him fast. You need to think quickly if you want to keep him on the line. You don’t want to admit it, but your interest in this man goes beyond the money you’re earning from him. He’s ignited something in you. “Wait! Please,” you breathe. “I—I’m so horny. I need you. Please? Just stroke your dick for me. I need it.” There you go; you knew you could do better.

“Damn it,” he hisses, and then there’s the sound of a belt buckle, and you know you’ve got him. “What’d you need, sweetie? Tell me,” he demands, and for the first time since doing this job, you feel a wave of lust hit you.

Swallowing in an attempt to bring moisture back to your dry mouth—it all seems to have headed south, if you know what you mean—you respond truthfully, “You.” Jesus, you shouldn’t be doing this, but before you can stop yourself, your left hand is slipping underneath your strap top and finding your breasts. “I need you, please—” You pause for a second. You don’t know if it will work, but if you’re right about him, this is going to go down a treat. For both him and for you. “—sir.”

And you’re right because he lets out a loud groan, making you squeeze your thighs together in response. Jesus, you haven’t wanted someone this badly in what feels like forever.

“Fuck, you’re going to be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You’re already nodding before he finishes his sentence. “Yes, god, yes.” You move your right hand so it’s also caressing your breasts. In this moment, you completely love your headset, which allows you to talk and touch at the same time.

“Mm, you’re so obedient, baby,” he tells you, approval evident in his husky voice. “Tell me, Princess, tell me are your nipples hard?”

Your pussy clenches almost painfully, and you try to remind it to calm down because it’s only just started. “They’re hard. So hard they’re showing through my shirt.”

You’re getting so hazy with lust you’re not sure what to do with yourself, so you pinch your nipples roughly and almost cry out in frustration, knowing it would be so much better if he were doing it for you.

“Damn, that’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you, and your belly does a funny flip. “You touchin’ them? Want you to roll them between your fingers. Not too hard, just enough pressure to leave you needing more.”

It’s not easy to admit, but you think he’s better at this than you are, and it crosses your mind that you should probably be paying him. “I already am,” you confess with a guilty laugh. “Your voice... it’s, uh, fucking hot.” You hesitate because you’re not sure if you can say that to him. It’s not very professional, but then you remind yourself that you’re only second-guessing it because you’re actually getting off on it.

"You that eager for me, princess?" he sounds pretty damn pleased with himself. "Tell me how it feels. You know, I'm stroking my dick to this. Getting hard over the noises you're making, and the pretty picture you're giving me."

The image of this man, who you are undoubtedly attracted to, stroking his hard cock over the thought of you pleasuring yourself drives you crazy. He seems so generous, something rare nowadays.

"It feels..." you breathe, trying to find the right words. "Like it's not enough. I need more. Christ." You throw your head back against your pillows, frustrated with yourself and the way you're acting. Completely unprofessional.

"Shh," he coos softly. "I've got you. I'm going to take care of you. Okay, princess?" He's so freaking good at this. You're practically shivering in anticipation of what he might say next. "I want you to get naked for me. And tell me, baby, you got any toys?"

"Um," you think about his question as you pull your strap top over your head. It gets caught on the earphone wire. "Wait a second." You quickly untangle yourself before placing the earphones back into your ears. Moving on to your shorts, you push them eagerly down your legs. "Yes, I have one of those little bullet vibrators."

"Good. I want you to get it for me, princess."

You bite your lip for a moment, feeling extremely dirty about what you're about to do. "Yes, sir..." you say before reaching toward your side cabinet and opening the bottom drawer. In an old, tiny, purple purse with a single zip sits the bullet. You take it out before getting comfortable on the bed once more. "I've got it."

He hums in approval. "Now, I'm more than happy to go slow, make this last, but I'm sensing that my girl wants to come hard and fast, am I right?"

You suck in an unsteady breath. Being called his girl really shouldn't make you feel as giddy as it does. Why and how does a complete stranger have such an effect on you? You're never one of those girls who fall for a man's charm easily. Yet here you are, swooning over a guy because he's good at talking dirty and has a sexy voice.

Apparently you were easier to seduce than you originally thought.

"Yes," you choke out, wondering if you'd wake up if you pinched yourself hard enough. You wouldn't try it, though, just in case you were dreaming. You really aren't ready for it to end. "God, yes."

"All right then," he chuckles, the sound warm. "I'll do what you want this time. Next time, what I say goes, okay, princess?"

Before you have a chance to respond, he's giving you more orders, and in no way are you complaining.

"I want you to spread your pretty little thighs for me, baby." His voice, and the way he's breathing, gives you the impression that he's getting just as excited as you are.

"Okay," you squeak rather embarrassingly. Cool air hits your most sensitive area as you do what he orders, your hands resting against the inside of your thighs, fingers clutching your vibrator as you wait impatiently for his instructions.

You have yet to turn the bullet on, but it already feels like your insides are vibrating.

"Now, take your hand and spread your pussy lips for me."

And there you go, once again speechless—and breathless—because of this man and his words. Seriously, he could do this job better than you. You have to admit, you're storing parts of this conversation away for both personal and professional use later on.

Your hands automatically do as he says, your body desperate for some kind of release. You feel overwhelmed and don't know where to start or what to do in order to relieve it. Thank God you have him to guide you; otherwise, you might combust. Then again, if he wasn't here, you wouldn't have this problem in the first place.

"Okay," you breathe, feeling more and more like a client than a sex line operator. But taking control is obviously something he enjoys, so who are you to put a stop to this? What’s the saying? ‘Customers are always right?’ Well, you absolutely, completely, one hundred percent agree!

"Stretch yourself out," he continues, his voice starting to strain. "Force your sexy little clit out of its hood. I don't want it hiding when you start fucking yourself. All right, princess?"

Fuckkk. Just when you think he can't possibly get any hotter, he goes and says that. Your pussy feels like it’s on fire; your clit is so swollen it hurts. You wouldn't be surprised if you came the second you put any pressure on your nub.

"Now," he continues. "Turn your bullet on and press it to your clit. You're not allowed to stop until your legs are shaking and you're calling out my name. Got it?" You can hear how hard he's pumping his dick now. For a moment, you feel guilty. Are you neglecting him? But then you remind yourself again that this is what he wants.

You know you're not going to last long. You're too excited. Not to mention, it’s been a while since you've spent some time with your right hand. You twist the top of your bullet, putting it on the highest speed. You know you're worked up enough to take it; usually, you start on low and build your way up because you're overly sensitive. Right now, you know it won’t be an issue.

The bullet starts to shake violently, but the noise is low, like a quiet buzzing. Your left hand holds yourself open, fingers forming a 'V' and spreading your lips as far as you can, just as he instructed.

You don’t need to tell him what you’re doing; the moment you press the bullet to yourself, a half-gasp, half-moan escapes your lips. You’re right—you definitely won’t last long. The vibrations are intense, and you draw small circles on yourself, pushing yourself even closer to the edge.

“Damnit,” he hisses. You’re quickly learning it’s one of his favorite words. “You sound fucking sexy. Wish I could see you. Watch you,” he inhales sharply. He’s just as close as you are.

“What’s—” you attempt to speak but end up gasping instead. Wetness gathers below, soaking your entrance and trailing toward your clit. The added lubrication lets the bullet slide more freely around your nub, the sensation unbelievable. “What’s—”

“Princess?” he chokes, likely having the same problem as you.

So close now. So fucking close. You just need a little more. The rhythm is perfect, and you can hear him breathing in your ear, letting out the occasional groan. It’s too damn much, but you can’t let yourself go—not without— “What’s your name?”

"Joel."

"Fuck - Joel!"

You see stars, as cliché as it sounds. Your whole body breaks into spasms, your left hand falling to the sheets and gripping the fabric desperately. Your right hand forces the bullet between your slippery lips, and your thighs clamp around your hand. Incoherent words tumble from your mouth: “Oh god,” “Fuck,” and Joel’s name.

As you come back down to earth, you can hear that Joel barely followed two seconds behind.

“Damn it, Princess. You’re so fucking good. Sound so pretty. Done so well,” the words spill from his mouth like sweet wine. He probably isn’t even aware of them. The sound of him fisting his dick is irregular and off-beat. “Fuck. Damn. You’re such a good girl.”

You remove the bullet from yourself—if you leave it there any longer, it’s going to become painful—and let out a giggle. Your cheeks are flushed, your body buzzing with pleasure. Lightheaded and giddy, you think to yourself that this guy must be amazing in bed. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah,” he laughs breathlessly. “You can say that again. I can’t believe I almost hung up.”

“That would have been bad,” you reply, wondering if your heart will slow down anytime soon. “Very, very bad.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, then pauses before adding, “Let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” You hesitate for only a moment. It’s unusual for clients to stick around afterward, but you’ve quickly realized this guy isn’t a normal caller.

“What’s your real name?” he asks. “No way is it ‘Angel.’” He snorts, finding your alias hilarious.

Is Angel that bad of a name? You think it’s kind of cool. The company is called Angels and Demons, with you being the Angel. Elliot’s alias is Daemon because it’s close to “demon” but sounds way better. When a customer calls, they get an automated voice instructing them to press the number for their chosen operator, complete with a brief description.

You’re losing your train of thought; you can’t give him your real name, can you? It’s against the rules. If Jane found out, she’d be pissed. She wouldn’t fire you, but her anger is almost as bad. With the image of facing her wrath in mind, you tell Joel, “I’m sorry, I can’t.” Your tone is regretful because you’d really like to tell him. “My boss would…it’s against the rules.”

“Ah,” he responds, masking the disappointment. “It’s all right. I understand.”

“Sorry,” you apologize again, hating the idea of letting him down, especially after how amazing he just made you feel.

"Seriously, Princess, it’s fine,” he reassures you, easing the guilt. “I had a really good time tonight. You can bet I’ll be expecting a repeat tomorrow.” You just know that if you could see him right now, his eyes would sparkle with mischief.

Your pussy throbs again just thinking about it. God, he makes you insatiable. “I’m really, really looking forward to it,” you tell him honestly.

“Me too.” There’s a brief pause, then, “Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Joel.” Hanging up the phone, you place it against your lips, letting everything sink in. Alone with your thoughts, you can’t believe you just had full-blown phone sex with a client. It’s so unlike you. It’s more like something Elliot would do. Speaking of…

“Elliot, you won’t believe what just happened!” you shout at the top of your lungs.

[yoomiwrites]

We won⁴

Summary: The war is won, yet you lost too much. Between friendship and love, what will you—what will Ekko—pick?

Note: Don't worry, although part 4 still got this kind of vibe, I promise (do I?) that the next chapter will get more of a soft vibe. As a reader it probably sucks to get short chapters, but for me it's nice for the flow (hah), so please be patient as you'll get the next chapter tomorrow and the (probably) final one at friday!

Ekko spotted you from a distance, your figure unmistakable as you walked alongside someone he didn’t recognize. The two of you were laughing, the kind of light, carefree laughter he hadn’t heard from you in a long time. You looked happy, your arm brushing against the guy’s as he leaned closer to speak.

Ekko froze, his heart sinking. This was the person Vi had mentioned. This was your date.

His first instinct was to turn away. He felt like an intruder, his chest tightening with emotions he couldn’t name—jealousy? Regret? Guilt? The image of you with someone else twisted something deep inside him.

He watched as you smiled, a smile he’d seen a thousand times before but that now seemed distant. A smile meant for someone else.

For a long time, Ekko had told himself that his heart was elsewhere. He thought of Powder often, of the fleeting connection he’d felt with her in that alternate dimension. That kiss, those memories—they’d kept him tethered to the past. But now, standing here, watching you laugh and move on, something inside him shifted.

This wasn’t about Powder.

This was about you.

Here. Now.

You had been the one by his side. The one who had fought for him, cared for him, even when he couldn’t see it. And he had taken you for granted, too wrapped up in his own world to realize what you meant to him.

And now it might be too late.

He clenched his fists, torn between running to you and leaving before you saw him. How could he ruin this for you? After everything you’d been through, everything you’d done for him, you deserved to be happy. And if this person made you happy, how could he stand in the way?

But it hurt. It hurt more than he thought it would, realizing what he wanted only now that he might have lost it.

As you and your date disappeared around a corner, Ekko stayed rooted to the spot, a weight settling over him. He didn’t know how he could face you now, not without his feelings spilling over. But one thing was clear: he couldn’t keep pretending that you didn’t matter to him.

You weren’t just a friend. You were everything. And it was time he started acting like it—even if it meant letting you go.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 6 - The Kim Estate

Chapter Summary - A little bit of Y/N's backstory and her family's history. She gets a tour of the Kim Estate from San and Wooyoung and gets a brief glimpse into the boys' private lives.

warnings: San does get a little violent towards the end, and Wooyoung cracks a few sex jokes (MDNI)

Series Masterlist

The house I grew up in was nothing short of a prison. I had all the luxuries of high society, yes, but that didn't mean I felt the same warmth and compassion children should be surrounded with.

My father owned a fashion company, Belluxe, one of the biggest in our part of the world. He had a lot of ties with some dangerous and powerful people, and as I got older I realized how much it had really gotten to his head.

The power. The greed.

I was forbidden to talk to him when I was young, only if we had guests. If I did without permission, he'd get angry. He had only gotten physical with me once, and that was when our family bond broke forever.

I was nine years old, home from boarding school with Christmas like I normally would be. My younger sister was ecstatic to have me home, finally having someone other than our mother to play with. Our older sister, she wasn't around this time. I figured she'd stayed at school for the holidays, but as I got older I found out she had run away.

I went by a different name back then, first and last. I'd changed it once I was disowned at 17, wanting to leave that old life behind. It was a lot easier than it should have been, all things considered.

I remember we were sitting at the dinner table, the only sound coming from our cutlery scraping across the porcelain plates. My mother had asked briefly how school was, and I gave a short but honest answer; "It was alright."

My father leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty seat where my sister should have been. He cleared his throat, causing us all to turn our heads in attention.

"Chariya, you'll be the next heir." He says simply, my old name, it felt weird hearing it even if it was just a memory. "Since Chalita has failed to exceed my expectations."

My family was Thai on my mother's side. She'd named us all after members of her family still in Thailand, bringing a piece of her old life with her.

Mother and Father married after father knocked my mother up with Chalita, the eldest. My mother used to say he was a kind man until she gave him too many daughters and no son. I think she just used it as an excuse to hide the snake he really is.

"My love, she is too young-" My mother states before she is cut off.

"Enough! I told you not to speak against me." He shouts, slamming his fist down on the table. My little sister, Chaluai, begins to cry at the sudden noise. My mother bows her head and stands, taking Chaluai with her as she exits the dining room.

I stare down at my plate, hearing the sound of his chair creaking as he leans back.

"Your mother doesn't understand the ways of this world." He says. "But one day you will."

I was startled awake by a knock on the door, causing my body to jump from my skin.

"Hello?" I call out groggily, sitting up.

"Uhm... Y/N? It's San." A muffled voice from the other side of the door calls out.

"Right..." I murmur, the events from the last few nights creeping their way back into my head. I stretch and swing my legs over the side. My feet hit the wood as I shuffle towards the door, opening it slowly.

San stands there on the other side, wearing a suit a little different from the one he wore last night. His eyes widen as I open the door, quickly looking up.

"Just thought I'd wake you... Wooyoung and I are home whenever you want that tour." He says, finding the ceiling very interesting.

"Oh! Just give me a few minutes and I'll come find you." I say, fingers gripping the door. San nods before hurriedly rushing down the hall and towards the stairs. I watch him go before closing the door. He was a lot shyer than last night. Maybe something was on his mind.

I walk into the walk-in wardrobe and look around at all the luxurious clothes hung up for me. There was a cabinet in the center, inside millions of dollars worth of jewelry for me to choose from. I feel a shiver run up my spine at the sight. It had been so long since I'd seen anything like this, and it felt wrong.

I hadn't worked for it, I didn't buy it myself. These men had only met me last night yet they were already willing to spend millions on me. Why?

I settled on a simple top and skirt, slipping on some fluffy slippers that were positioned neatly beside my bed before making my way out into the hallway.

The eery silence shared with the darkness of the hallway settled a sick feeling in my stomach. It was so quiet, that no chatter or thumping of footsteps could be heard. I figured Wooyoung and San were downstairs somewhere, praying that they weren't the type to jump out and scare me.

I head towards the staircase, the scenery getting brighter as I peek down at the pretty white marble that now glittered in the sunlight. My hand slides down the railing as the stairs take me to the lower floor. I gaze at the paintings on the wall, one of all 8 of them positioned on and around a fancy-looking couch, and another with a younger-looking Hongjoong, who I assumed to be his mother, father, and brother.

I didn't know he had a brother, I wonder what happened to him?

I glanced left and right once I reached the bottom of the stairs, the house felt like a maze, going on forever in both directions.

"San? Wooyoung?" I call out, my hands finding my elbows as I glance around. I decided to go left, entering what seemed to be the main living room based on the three couches and the fireplace with a television situated above it. I reach my hand out and press my fingers into the plush cushions, feeling the soft fabric beneath my skin.

"Y/N?" A voice makes me jump, I turn around to see Wooyoung standing in the doorway I just walked through. He had a grin on his face. "Scared ya?" He says with a light cackle.

I splutter for a moment before crossing my arms tighter. I watch as he scans my figure, admiring my figure.

"Eyes are up here, Wooyoung." I tease, as he stares a little too long at my legs.

"Yeosang picked your wardrobe well." He says, ignoring my words and stepping a little closer. "Would prefer you don't wear it around me though."

I hold my hand up and stop him from coming any closer right as San enters from another door behind me.

"Hongjoong said we should give you a tour." He says gruffly, his hair looking a lot messier than it was when he visited maybe 20 minutes prior. I glanced at his knuckles, noticing the light bruising that had begun to blossom before he quickly hid them in the pockets of his jacket.

"I'm ready to start whenever you are," I say, offering him a smile which he hesitates to return.

"Well, this is the main living room. Pretty obvious since it looks like a living room." Wooyoung chirps, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "Don't mind if San is a little quiet. He gets grumpy when he has to work early."

I glance back at San as Wooyoung starts to lead me through another archway into a large room. I gasped as the realization hit me that this was a ballroom. A large and grand ballroom, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. There was a grand piano on a small platform tucked away into a corner, floor-to-ceiling length windows with a matching door that led out to the backyard and a large diamond-clad chandelier dangled from the ceiling.

I could feel Wooyoung's grin as I slowly moved away from him, my jaw hanging slightly as I walked to the center. There were mosaic patterns that formed a lily flower on the floor under my feet which made me smile.

"Seonghwa told us to open the curtains for you, they haven't been opened since Hongjoongs parents were alive. The only person that uses this room is Mingi when he wants to play piano." San says from behind me. "Hongjoong's mother painted the lily flower herself."

"It's a painting?" I ask, turning to look back at both of them in surprise.

"Doesn't look it right? She was extremely talented at making things look different than what they are." Wooyoung says, the same grin on his face.

The tour went on, and every room amazed me more than the last. The kitchen was huge, almost twice the size of my bedroom with a dining room attached to it which was just as big. My mind wandered to all the grand dinners they must have hosted when Hongjoongs parents were still alive. Did they host balls too? It would be foolish not to considering how beautiful the setting was.

There was a pool, a greenhouse, and even a golf course in the backyard. I glanced over the hill and caught a glimpse of a tennis court on the far side of the golf course. I wondered how many acres this house was on. We weren't that from the city, however I couldn't see any other buildings for miles.

Inside on the first floor, there was a two-story library, another 2 smaller seating rooms, and laundry/housekeeping quarters behind the kitchen. The hallways were twisting in all directions, as if intentional. Was the layout meant to confuse people? Maybe intruders?

It would be smart if it was, all things considered. The house was intimidating from the outside just on its own, getting lost on the inside felt like a terrifying idea.

"Do you guys have maids?" I ask my arm now linked with Wooyoungs. I'd hate to be a worker here, having to clean this house would have to take days. Not only that but cooking? Laundry? Maintenance work would be a nightmare too.

"We do, they have Sundays off." Wooyoung answers, leading me back to the main stairwell. "Upstairs is mostly bedrooms and bathrooms. Hongjoong's home office is at the end of the hall on the right." He adds.

I nod, my neck craning to look at the paintings lining the walls once again. There was a painting of a woman, a beautiful woman with long black hair and piercing green eyes with freckles dusting her cheeks. I stared at the painting for a moment, getting a sinking feeling that she was staring back.

"That's Aurora." Wooyoung murmurs, eyes on the painting too. "She was... The one before you." He hesitates to say, glancing down at me before looking back up at the painting. I let go of his arm and climbed a few steps to stand directly in front of her painting.

"She's beautiful... Pretty name too." I say softly, my eyes softening as more details reveal themselves.

"You would have liked her," San says, his arms crossed as he looks at the painting, a sad look in his eyes. "She was like you, not a dancer though... More of a reader."

"If you wanted to find her she'd only ever be in the library," Wooyoung says with a small chuckle. "Most of the books in there were gifts for her, from us." He says.

"What happened to her?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I turn back to them. They're both staring up at the painting, Wooyoung lowers his head and lets out a soft, pained sigh once he registers my question.

"We'll tell you in time. You should get settled first." San answers, his voice low.

Oddly enough, I didn't feel an ounce of jealousy. It was obvious she wasn't in the picture, whether she was alive or not. However, the pained look on Wooyoungs face and the behavior of the other boys when she is mentioned made me think it was the latter. I felt sad for them. It was obvious they loved her, maybe more than I would ever realize or truly know.

A part of me was envious of that fact. To be loved so unconditionally was something I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. But, another part of me was scared. Did their work have something to do with her death? It made sense in a way.

A loud crash made me jump from my thoughts. I look to San and Wooyoung who are suddenly on high alert before San grumbles something and storms off into the direction of the main living room. I glance at Wooyoung as I step down the stairs to follow but the man stops me.

"Don't follow him." He says in a hushed voice, gripping my hips in a tight hold as I glance behind him. My eyes widened, the door San had entered through at the start of the day was wide open with a man stumbling through. San grabs the man by the back of the neck and practically drags him back into the darkness beyond the door.

The man lets out a string of curses and begs as San slams the door shut behind them both, his cries fading into nothing the further they go.

"It's the basement," Wooyoung says, answering my question before I even had to ask. "It's the only place in this house that you are not allowed to go. Understand?" He says, his expression void of any playfulness I had come to associate with his character.

"I understand," I say, staring back up at him with the same wide-eyed expression.

"Good girl." He says with a grin, hand cupping my cheek briefly before moving away, heading towards the staircase. "Come, I'll show you everyone's rooms."

I glance at the door to the basement for a moment before following Wooyoung up the stairs.

I've decided to update the story consistently every Tuesday at 12 am (AEST). A Christmas special is being planned which will be set a few years after the events of this book.

I urge minors to not interact beyond this chapter, for it's going to start getting heavy from this point. I will be checking profiles to make sure so please have something to prove your age on your profile! I don't want to traumatize children <3

Also, I closed the taglist a little early however I'll be going through the comments and the past few posts and making sure I didn't miss anyone. If you aren't on it when this chapter is posted, I'll add you to the next one.

taglist:

@bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling

@neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

@vtyb23 @bigbabygremlin @professormingiglasses

@pinuspot @astral-trashcan @ateezswonderland

[includedisco]

You know what dear fanfic writers?

it's okay to cry because you can't put your character's emotions into words. Dry your tears and write it however the hell you can. It's your story and it's still art

It's okay to take 5 days away because you failed to adequately describe a fight scene. Write it in two sentences if you want. You'll do better next time.

It's okay to use the same word 25 times in one chapter. It's not that deep

It's okay to have too long or too short chapters.

It's okay to be brief or to be as detailed and colourful as you want with your kiss scene. Whether they just "kiss tenderly" or you tell us all about how "his tongue tastes like honey", it's okay and we get it. You've still successfully told us that they kiss

It's okay to have 7% emotions and 300% dialogue or vice versa in your story

While dreaming of writing or working on that awesome work that's better than anything you've written so far, it's okay to allow yourself to write a few pieces that are just YOU and YOUR style, whatever that might be.

I'm not saying we shouldn't grow and improve as writers. What I'm saying is that we shouldn't punish ourselves. At the very least, let's do better because it's what we want and not because we feel pressured by anyone else to do so. You always have an audience no matter what sort of author you are.

Look, nobody is paying us to be this hard on ourselves. If anyone comes at you about your writing, tell them to show you how it's done then. Tell them to politely excuse themselves from your "bad writing". Better yet, give them your bank details so they can pay you for stepping so way out of your writing comfort zone to please them. You'll see how quickly they'll shut the fuck up

[whiskeyneat-coffeeblack]

*clears throat*

BOOM SHAKALAKA WE ARE SO BACK.

It's Monday.

And yesterday you had Joel all day.

I had to take many deep breaths while reading this chapter.

how it'd felt to stand in this room and feel finally right when Joel'd not yet done a thing but look at you.

Like so many.

With a mountain of clothes heaped on your bed, you sigh at yourself. Stupid. You're being stupid. Joel's seen you wear just about everything-your rattiest work drab and every sun-dress, dark shadows beneath your eyes and red lipstick-and still wanted you. Still drove out here in the middle of the night and expected nothing, just wanted a chance. Just wanted to be with you.

Are you joking?? The giddiness and excitement had me kicking my feet!!

A little time to crank yourself down before you have to show your face to the person who'll surely ruin it, make you tender and blushing all over again. Proving that there remains a piece of you somewhere-lodged and lost as it once was-that wants to be held. That wants to care.

Sweet Nelle is letting down some walls and I’ve never been happier omg.

You roll your eyes at her, smiling. Sometimes she looks so much like the toddler she was, all giddiness and reckless excitement, your chest goes melts to goo. As she drinks—no more than an hour from a sugar high you'll curse yourself for causing-you scrunch your nose at the kid and she squints back, lowering the thermos to catch her breath.

Every time Nelle is emotional about Ellie getting older I may or may not get a little misty eyed… I love their dynamic and I love all of Ellie. She’s such a sweet and funny girlie.

"You're a mess," she says tiredly to you both, and shakes her head, rolling her eyes. It's a gesture so far beyond her years-something Anna does all the time when she's resigned or in disbelief-that you feel your whole face twitch with a want to laugh. It still surprises you some days, seeing Ellie get older, walking around like some miniature Anna: a recreation of the girl with whom your childhood was made.

Ellie has such a distinct voice and sense of who she is and I know she knows she’s so loved and safe and cared for by Anna and Nelle and I can’t HANDLE IT.

Her hand lowers and from where you're sitting you can just make out the clumsy doodle of a woman screaming who must be Anna that Ellie's scribbled on her cast, a speech bubble declaring, I CAN'T ROLLER SKATE!!! above her head.

Like case in point. But on a different note… this next bit… 😶

"Like when you smell like me," Joel says, and you're fucked, really. You don't stand a goddamn chance. All that willpower that for four years has kept you safe and guarded will lose to him every time. As long as he's touching you, there isn't a chance in hell you choose anything but him, ask for anything but more.

I’ve PRAYED for times like these 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

He shrugs. "Not workin'."

"So you lied to my sister," you gasp, but he just clicks his tongue. Guilty and not one bit sorry if the look on his face is anything to go off.

Ugh I have nothing else coherent to say. I’m knocked on my ass by your writing every single time you update!! You and this fic are magic!!!!!

🌟🌟🌟

SEE YOU AT THREE

chapter fifteen: ALWAYS EARLY

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Pairing: Young!Joel x f!Reader OC (Ellie's aunt)

Word Count: 9.6k

Full Content Warnings under the cut to avoid spoilers if you don't want them!

read from the beginning | series masterlist | almostfoxglove masterlist

SUMMARY: You get some surprising mail and Joel pays you a visit at the bakery.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

Yes. Once or twice it’s held you captive and restless through midnight’s trickster hours, looking for an edge, a shape, a name for the feeling you have now as you stare at his profile, the handsome slope of his nose, and he stares out the glass front door. Like although you weren’t expecting to see him before pickup—you’ve nonetheless been waiting for the surprise all day. Since the second you woke.

continue reading chapter 15 on ao3.

dividers by @thecutestgrotto - tag list below!

NOTE: I am officially moving away from tag lists as they've gotten lengthy (thank you for that <3) so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

CW: Discussions of divorce/break-ups, mild smut (piv, f!oral, sorta public sex), anna being a goddamn menace, sneaking around shenanigans.

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @biggetywitch @tuquoquebrute 

@thundermartini @la-eterna-enamorada29  @pastelpinkflowerlife @ak-vintage @sjc7542 

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[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 17

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Poultryman leaves quickly but you can't help but keep feeling suspicious. Nothing concrete and his explanation does make sense but you can't help but feel that It was weird for him to just be there like that...

He said he heard of it but ... How did he do so quickly? And why was he just standing there...menacingly?

You don't get the time to think about it further and quickly forget about it as Cub messages you, the hero association wants to talk to you for some reason and that means something is wrong...

...You are a bit worried.

...

You uh... don't really know what to do, your fight and flight is going off in a way only a council of business people can make it go off.

The council is staring at you, you thought they wanted to tell you something not look at you with... judgement in their eyes for like ten minutes straight.

You try to break the tension by initiating the conversation yourself.

"H-hello?"

...

"You wanted to speak with me?"

They are still silent? Did you say something wrong? You literally just said hi-

"Indeed, a decision has been talen that we believe you should be informed of."

Ok, not silent anymore, that's good... Wait decision? They aren't demoting you or something, right?

"Did something happen?"

They look to eachother...ok...even more worrying. It's fine everything is fine, you are totally calm and chill and not anxious at all.

"No, but something will."

"O-ok?"

Points for being ominous for no reason.

"Hotguy, you cannot continue to work alone. The stakes are growing, it is becoming too dangerous.."

"Oh!"

Oh! Are they making a hero team? You always wanted one of those-

"We are not going to waste heroes on a team"

And just like that your hopes are dashed and crushed. Why are you still here...just to suffer?

"But then-"

"Hotguy, how would you feel about a sidekick?"

A... Sidekick? You don't know how to feel, superheroes are supposed to have them though so It must be a good idea!...Wait.

"W-who's going to be my sidekick? You said you weren't going to waste heroes."

"That has not yet bern decided, we plan to start an hiring process of sorts soon.""

Hiring? What's this? An office job?"

"Do not question us, Hotguy. It is thanks to us you are even here to begin with"

"Right! I am sorry."

"... This is where you come in"

"Huh?"

"A sidekick should not only be capable but should also work well with the hero, you'll have to be the final judge of character "

"Oh that makes sense... So I'll interview the candidates?"

"Not directly, we cannot risk that, you'll just have to prepare some questions for them to answer"

"Oh... Alright! I'll do it"

*Mumbo's pov*

You are in your apartment, Grian is off... somewhere. You have stopped questioning him around the time you walked on him peeling grapes ... You just hope he doesn't randomly die or something, that would be quite unfortunate.

You turn on the tv, not something you do often but it's a good way to pass the time when you aren't working on something which is thinking about it...very rarely. Surely today has been uneventful.

The mayor was kidnapping by his own office and Hotguy is randomly hiring a sidekick.

What in the world has happened today??

*Grian's pov*

So Hotguy is searching for a sidekick, what interesting timing.

Well, you cannot waste this opportunity to have fun, can you.

You prepare an outfit, you even have a perfect name for this.

Cuteguy.

...

You might have too many personas now... nah.

End of Chapter 4

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader (zombie apocalypse au) Word count: 1.2k Warnings: none

A/N: im trying to get back into writing so we're starting off small... real small but it's ok im almost done with some bigger works i want to get posted by the end of the week so... we'll see enjoy :)

Prev | Next

Chapter 5

Seonghwa hit the ground. Hard. His ears were ringing. His body ached. He sat up slowly, eyes drawn to the blaze that illuminated his face and engulfed the building he'd just been in. An explosion..

It was an explosion.

An explosion. Just an explosion.

Then he heard the screams followed by a sound horror movies could only dream of recreating. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones.

Seonghwa turned to the sound.

it was on her, a young woman, no older than he was, her phone had fallen to the ground as she dialed 112..

The operator's voice came out muffled.

And that thing on her, bit her throat and tore the flesh from her neck.

Too stunned to speak or move he backed up slowly. More screams.

And one ran right past him lunging for a teacher who was calling the police. He scrambled to his feet.. and ran. Ran until he realized looking at one of those things biting people... it was his biology teacher. She turned to him and trilled softly before shrieking and making a mad dash for him.

Seonghwa didn't have time to scream before a man with big eyes and small lips swung a baseball bat at whatever had become of his teacher.

It fell to the ground writhing head backwards. Still making a weak attempt to crawl for the young men.

The man grabbed Seonghwa and wrenched him to his feet, shoving a headless gold club into his hands. "Don't breathe in the smoke! RUN!"

Seonghwa stared at the zombies roaming through the woods. Was it the explosion...

"Hwa.."

He looked over his shoulder at you, "Hey."

"You thinking of something.."

"No." Seonghwa shook his head before raising a brow at you. "What did you tell Chan?"

"As much as he needed to know.." you sighed.

"Which is?"

You looked at him. "Not the whole truth-"

"Y/n!"

"Do you want him to think we're murderers?" You whisper shouted. "We're already on the rocks with him Hwa! One mess up and he could kick us out or worse."

"It's not that different..."

"What?"

"You're a human being! You made mistakes but you'll live! He's not Hongjoong. He's not going to kill you for looking at him the wrong way." the man hissed angrily.

Jisung perked up from the bushes so suddenly Seonghwa pointed his rifle at him.

"Woah!" The chubby cheeked man put his hands up. "IT'S ME! CALM DOWN!"

Seonghwa exhaled slowly, and lowered his gun. "what?"

"I found a boar. We can head back now.."

You nodded.

As you began walking back to the base, Jisung turned his head looking at a tree.

"What is it?" You asked, leaning back to look at what he was staring so intently at.

There was a mark in the bark of the tree. A very deliberate mark. Carved in the shape of a compass looking object.

"it's nothing!" Jisung smiled at you. "Something I made a while back."

Seonghwa glanced at you. He's lying.. his expression screamed.

"It's nice." You said, patting Jisung on the shoulder before glancing at the taller man, your eyes shouting Trust him! back.

You returned to the base to find Hyunjin running away from Minho as the latter chased him with a fork.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin hid behind you, peeking around you as Minho tried to find a way around you to stab him.

"CALM DOWN!" You tried to calm the older man but he sprinted around you, sending Hyunjin squealing like a little girl as he ran away from you and down the hall.

You pursed your lips. "Wh-"

"Hyunjin called him dumb." Seungmin said simply.

You snorted.

Jisung ran after Minho and Seonghwa shook his head before sitting at the table looking at what Changbin was working on.

"ENOUGH!" You heard Chan bellow, they'd woken him up it'd seemed.

Both Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin tore through the hall running for their lives as a very angry, very sleepy Chan stood at the entrance to the hall, slipper in hand.

You tilted your head at him.

He looked at you and lowered the slipper. "You guys catch anything..?"

Yeosang bit his lip. "You know we can't be out right now Wooyoung."

"When else would we talk about it? San breathes down my neck all day. Hongjoong and Eunbi are keeping you close like a dog in the evening." Wooyoung put his head in his hands and rubbed his face.

Yeosang looked at his hands. "I thought they were dead... I thought-"

"You thought wrong!" Wooyoung snapped. "Think about it. Would Y/n just really jump into a river moving that fast without a plan?!"

"He was going to kill them!"

Wooyoung bit his lip and looked at Yeosang. "They saved our lives multiple times. Why want them dead..."

"You know Hongjoong-"

"But what about the others. Mingi. San!"

Silence.

"You know you're the only person who can make San see reason."

"We need to send them a message... That Eunbi might know where they are. And that they need to run before Hongjoong gets to them."

"He would never hurt Y/n."

"But he might kill Seonghwa." Wooyoung looked at the hallway.

"How will we reach her?"

"The plane... they want it.. We'll be there."

"Be where?" a soft voice said.

Both men jumped.

"Eunbi!" Yeosang grabbed his chest.

"Why are you so scared?" She tilted her head. "Discussing something you shouldn't? Past curfew?"

Wooyoung resisted the urge to swallow in fear. "No... just talking about.. Y/n. We'll be there at the plane." He glanced at Yeosang.\

"To help Hongjoong catch her and that traitor...." the other man added.

"I see.." She smiled.

Both men directed their gaze to the ground to avoid staring at the scarring on her face.

"Get to bed. I won't tell Hongjoongie of your... meeting."

Wooyoung nodded as she turned away. "G'night Eunbi.."

"Goodnight boys."

Thhe two men looked at each other before walking to their separate rooms.

"You can't be serious." Chan brushed his fingers over the compass mark and looked at Minho, Jisung, and Changbin.

"it's fresh." Jisung said shaking his head.

"She's looking for us." Minho bit his lip and glanced at Changbin.

"Let her come then." The muscular man said in almost a growl.

"Changbin.." Chan looked at his friend. "Next time she's not gonna miss. It's not worth the risk."

"How do you know she doesn't want to apologize...?" Jisung started. "And join us again..."

"You think she'll be happy to see Y/n and just want to join us with another girl?" Chan growled.

Jisung looked down.

"She can take this." Minho pulled out his knife and stabbed the carved compass, slashing it across the face. "We got the damn message."

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[mulberrymyrtle]

COSMIC ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[various!pjo x child of urania!reader]

CHAPTER ONE : stargazing...petty fights... weird guy who smells of sewer water.

SUMMARY : in typical sibling fashion, your half-sister forces you to engage in bonding activities to get closer to your godparent. however it's 1am, and gods? they never cared anyways.

YOUR SISTER WAS A WEIRD PERSON, or rather your "half-sister" was the epitome of whimsical shook into a bottle rapidly to create a highly-superstitious woman.

You could say she was obsessed or in her own terminology - a "passionate" astrologer who's hands were blessed by Urania's knowledge of the cosmos. (As she uttered in her theatrical matter, in front of the Hermes table. You wished with clutched hands that Zeus should strike her down with his fearsome lightning.)

Yet, in your own terminology she was a nerd who loved the stars too much she'd disintegrate herself if it ever decides to come near her vicinity. (both literally and metaphorically)

She'd wake you up in the chill-breeze of dawn, hands slapping at your sweat-filled forehead (because being squeezed in the Hermes cabin is definitely anything but cold). Her fingers gesturing to the destroyed window, (a polite gift of the Stolls) with excitement coursing over her star-speckled eyes. With drowsiness choking you by the brain, fogging everything that hurls out of her mouth - the only thing it can make out is your name.

"The constellations!" She sputtered, words spilling from her chapped lips. "They're clearer!"

"Uh...clear, cool. Woah."

"Oh my Olympus," she sighs knocking at your head, "It means Urania is giving us a sign! We need to talk to her or something!"

"Why does it matter if she..." you paused, shifting your crumpled blanket closer to your body. "Or Urania makes the constellations clearer? You know the gods don't care at all. Making up for neglect isn't making stars clearer or whatever." Rolling your eyes, flopping yourself back on the floor.

With a whine of your name, she smacks you (like she always does) "That's our mom, you have to respect her."

"That's a god." You spit out,  "She's probably out there creating more half-siblings to cramp us in this cabin."

"I hope she makes better siblings than you." She huffed, her arms crossed.

"You'll just betray me like that? I was joking, you were supposed to say you're the best ever!"

She gives you a look of disgust, her head shaking rapidly. "In a hypothetical sense, you're doing the betraying here."

You gave an awkward cough, eyes shifting away from her face. With a stiff laugh, you murmured under your breath. "In Capture the Flag... maybe?"

She tilts her head, your words processing in her mind. "Huh- wait! You're not teaming up with me?"

"Well, I wanna win for once."

"You think Clarisse will make you win?" She raises her brows, her face scanning over you like it was a joke.

"Better than be dunked in the toilet that's for sure..."

"We had a plan!"

"I barely have anything to do there," you shake your head, putting the blanket over your head. "It's probably Annabeth saying that Athena always has a plan." Replicating Annabeth's confident tone to perfection as you utter the phrase. "I am practically dummy bait for Clarisse either way."

Your ears pick up on her groan, her back hitting the wall with a loud thump. Under the covers, you shift to turn away. Your mind was on desperate measures, forcing itself to shut off - away from your half- sister's insistent pleads. The thin sheets you slept yourself on was better than lying on prickled grass, the hurls of harpies screaming in the distance, paired with the stories your sister’s would wander about was anything but delightful.

"Just let me sleep," you tell through muffled sheets, moving around the tight space.

"You're so difficult." She murmurs in exasperation, almost tired. "I'm just trying to get us closer, that's what she..." Her tone falters, like the next words were impossible for her to voice out.

You hear the deep breaths she takes in, the sigh she releases - even a clink of the necklace Urania gifted her. The subtle movement of the blanket tells her that you're prodding the next things she'll say, eager to listen.

"Oh," you finally hear her voice after the moments of silence, you find yourself shifting closer to her.

"Oh, i'm sorry Peter," she utters in a soft manner, "Did we wake you?"

Who the hell is Peter?

In a sudden movement, you fling your blanket off. Head emerging from the soft comforts of your dingy pillow to face whoever decided to join the conversation. You swore, there was never a Peter unless it was a spirit that decided to wander in the dead of dawn. But, you also know that your half-sister couldn't see ghosts. You were sure that in the entirety of Camp, only one person could do that - the cabinmate beside you whose snores irritated your ears.

Your head turns to the person, like a crane cranked up in slow motion. Your vision clearing up, the blurred figure of the person fully coming into view.

Ohh, so that's Peter.

You turn to your sibling, then back to him as your memory tries to recollect on who he was. Eyes looking over his closed off form - he's a bit close, you think. His sea-breezed hair has been swept by the constant turns in his sleep (he's restless as well, why were you beside two annoying sleepers?)

He was reminiscent of men who spent their summers lazing in the warm sands, letting the grains supple over their bodies. A man that looked like he thrived with the waves splashing in their hair and the chemical smell of sunscreen that he’d pile on endlessly. You wouldn’t be surprised if his godparent was a related to water (if Poseidon still had children, he'd be top one) or his whoever his parent was, must’ve been an avid surfer.

But, you wished he smelled like the fresh seas or of summer's refreshing taste. Instead a vague scent of rotten sewer water invaded your senses, as you shook your head. Meeting the gaze of your sibling once again, a common understanding of apologizing to him came over the two of you - his squinted eyes seemed to tell you he was irritated.

You sighed, resting your head against the creaking walls (does Chiron even have enough budget to fix this, you wonder) "Sorry Peter, we didn't mean to - "

"It's Percy." He clears up with a rather deadpan tone, his arms clutched around a rather curved object. "Can you tone it down?"

You share a look with your sister. "We're sorry, we'll quiet down."

"Will you?" He questions, hold tightening on the object in his arms. You’re pretty sure that comment was meant to jab at you two, hearing your sister mutter something inaudible.

A few awkward glances is shared between the three of you, the sudden creak of the floorboard disrupts the moment. The shuffles of your sister's footsteps is heard within the empty cabin, all you can do is observe her movements, her body reaching over to a corner.

Rustling is heard from a distance, bunches of papers being smashed into one thing. The heavy thuds of books, she stuffs countless books about astronomy (that she probably let Travis steal from the camp's store) pencils that seem to clack at every moment, pens scattered with vast colors. She slings the filled bag over her shoulder, as she faces the window, fingers nimbly opening the creak. Then with a soft breath, she turns to you two - her mouth moving in a familiar manner. She's ran away from too much cramped sleeping beds in the dead of night for you to immediately understand her.

Don’t tell Luke.

With a lazy nod, you shoo her away - an action that makes her mouth quirk up, a little "you'll pay if you snitch" emerging from her tongue. Then in a blink you find her figure blending into the starry sky, the stars seeming to twinkle a bit brighter when she did.

"Does she do that often?" Percy asks with a tilt of his head. "Isn't that, against the rules?"

"Well," you trail off with an awkward smile. "Rules never bothered her, really."

"The harpies?"

"She's good at avoiding them," shrugging him off. "Got a collection of their feathers, weirdly enough."

Percy doesn't say another word, noticing the chest set beside you — overflowing with the collection.

The nightly-air washes over your body, dancing around you playfully. It’s cool, different from the compacted warmth that Hermes’ cabin offered behind the doors. Leaning your head on the window-still, you see the glowing splatters of the stars glint in your sight. It contrasts against the abyss, like it usually does without fail - despite your reluctance, you do admit it was ethereal.

“Ah, it is clearer,” you mumble in defeat, eyes taking in the constellations that appeared within the etched sky.

Your breath awes at the different collection of constellations that pooled beneath. Immediately catching the bright gleams of common constellations ranging from the Zodiacs, drifting over to beam at Cassiopeia. You stop your observations for a moment, with a furrowed brow. Your dart your eyes to the seemingly duller shine of stars that mixed to create another picture - eyes widening at the newly found connection.

"Perseus," you whisper amongst the silence, awe filling your body - it gleamed beautifully. It took over half of the field, completely stealing the show — a rare constellation appearing?

"Excuse me?" a voice calls out within the silence, confusion evident in their tone. You flinch at the intrusion, seeing Percy look at you with a pursed lip.

"Perseus, the constellation?" Pointing to the sky above, connecting the brightest stars together to show him the picture. “You know, the Greek hero?”

"I know," he states, when you blink you find a presence settled beside you. He's close, you think, the proximity has your mind jump. He focuses his sights on the sky before him. His breath stutters unevenly, you see his throat almost bobble up — his face is a mix of everything. It's dull mostly — like the constellation isn't something he awed at. "Slayed Medusa, saved the princess, happy ending, all that." He spits out, a hard edge to his tone.

"Not a fan, huh?" you tease with a glint of mischief, hugging your knees close to your chest. "Me too," you confess, burying yourself deeper in your knees. "Heroes with a happy ending, seems weird."

"Yeah, real weird," he croaks out, his tone slightly pitched up —lips quivering when he continues to stare.

You observe him quietly, how he clings tight to the material close to him. Hugs it like it's the only warmth, the comfort he's had — it resembles how a child sticks to his mother. It makes your chest tight, your hands clammy.

With a little sigh, your body finds itself shifting closer to him. You come shoulder-to-shoulder to him, his warmth ever so present.

"Man, you do hate him huh?" you utter with a surprised tone, fiddling with your blanket. Bumping his shoulder in a light manner, you linger a bit long. "Don't worry, he doesn't show up all the time," you inform him softly, hoping it'll lift up whatever anger he has directed to him. "You'll mostly find common ones, like the Big Dipper or Cassiopeia here — just don't look too hard and Perseus won't show."

"No," he interrupts you, his eyes back at yours. The closeness has you forced to stare into his pierced gaze — it's clouded almost, like seas crashed with storms and overlapped. "No, I don't hate him."

"Then what?"

"It's just weird," he whispers. "We share a name, I find it weird."

"Perseus?" With a raised brow, you tilt your head. "You share a name with him? Perseus? Who named you that?"

He takes a second to register your question, yet his breath hitches — almost stopping his lungs from functioning.

"My mom," he rasped out, a heavy sigh ; the confession a burden to vocalize. There is a crack entering his words, mourning coloring his very body. The object he's been embracing the whole time is tighter than before, you can see the outline. Curved and pointed, a minotaur horn which was penetrating itself in his chest  — he does not stop ; he continues to press deeper.

Oh.

Minotaur horn, Percy, mother.

Minotaur horn, Percy, mother.

Minotaur horn, Percy, mother...

Then, it finally clinks in your mind ; an echo of previous events emerge within. It's him. You knew of him in the rumors that spread by both campers or by the satyrs who's hands tended the stables. The tale of a new camper brought in the hazing storm, killing the famed minotaur with brute strength — his endeavour marked by the remnant of the horn held by his hands. It was a story that'd be etched in the stars, you imagine the giddy smile your sister wore when she heard of it.

A new legend, she sputters with excitement. A story that the constellations will love.

But, your mind did not think of "legends" or the myth in a making. The boy before you, who's blanket was not neat, who's eyes started to water a bit, and choked with the overwhelming pressure of learning of his heritage — he looked too human to you.

The creation of a legend is never beautiful, it is from harsh treatment — to be attacked mercilessly of battles that the gods force you in.

You were aware of that, every demigod was.

So when you hid yourself deep in the vines that hugged the White House, hearing the worried murmurs and rabid shuffle of pinochle ; hearing news about the newest recruit. Your heart becomes heavy. Grover's tone is shaky, the tin cans that clattered as it crunched underneath his mouth. His reporting is messy, unclear, the quiet sniffles interrupt it from the clarity.

What about his mother? He quietly voices out, it is silent. Mr. D doesn't have some snarky comment nor does Chiron bring out any advice like he'd always do. What are we gonna say about his mom? Grover says, filled with desperation — it's coarse, demanding.

She's gone. He cries out, his tone is weighed in by grief ; a failure, he thinks of himself. The way how utters the words is so similar, bringing you to a moment years ago.

You try to shake off the previous events, focusing on Percy.

"Your mom," you repeat, careful to say it with caution. "She... she must've been cool to name you that."

"She was," he answer back, his tone softer. "She was the best, actually," he whispers tenderly. You feel your chest tighten at how he mentions her. He has a little smile on his face, how his dullness is now shining at every moment he thinks of her positively. He parades his memory of his mother like a cherished gift, a woman he never wants to ever forget.

You never thought it was possible to think of your own mother that way, to hold her tightly to your heart.

You give him a reassuring nod, taking in the softness that surrounded him briefly.

"Hm," you hummed, fingers playing amongst the gathering dust at the window. "Naming you after Perseus, names are pretty strong thing here, you know?"

"Grover said the same thing," he says confused. "When I almost said Diony — Mr. D's real name. What's that about?"

"Uh, my sister says it kind of seals your destiny," you trail off. "If you're named after something, your fate's gonna be written out for you." But you put a shushing motion to your mouth, "I don't believe whatever she says — she's ultra superstitious, really. It might be her fear-mongering again."

"But," you continue. "Your mother must've loved you a lot for you to be named after a hero who gets a happy ending."

He squints his eyes, wondering what you were trying to imply.

"If we do take my sister's words, she wants a happy ending for you," you say slow, thinking of how to convince him. "Then you should follow that destiny, let yourself reach a happy ending that you want," you ramble off to him, hoping he'd listen. "I mean, that's why you were brought here? You must've felt outcasted, like most of us — and now, you're not different anymore, you're just you."

You take a breather, the next words crashing on you. "That's something happy isn't it? To finally be with people who understand, — here you don't have to be scared. You can do everything without fear of judgement."

"Will I?" he spoke in a hushed tone, insecurity evident. "I mean, I did get dunked in a toilet first day in, very welcoming." He uses a sarcastic tone, the displease is displayed loudly.

That alone makes you laugh, "So Clarisse did that to you, that's why you smell weird."

"H-huh, I don't..." leaning down to sniff a part of his clothes, "I wasn't even wet by the toilet water!"

You were a bit stunned at his claims, shaking it off quickly. "Well I can still smell it!"

"Are you messing with me?"

"Well, we are in the Hermes cabin, try guessing," you cheekily reply, using your elbow to nudge him. He playfully shoves you off with a huff, making you smile.

"It's hard to read your face — it's a blurred mix," he scoffs at your words.

"Blurred mix? That's a new one," you expressed amusement, shaking your head. "Has camp been mentioning that again?"

"Well, it's not a joke, it is kinda blu —"

"Well, since you faced Clarisse's toilet ritual" you cut off his words, reaching out to pat his shoulder. "You definitely will, you'll belong here just fine."

You'll belong here just fine.

Percy pauses, your hands still placed on him — you flinch, immediately removing it. He mulls over your words, blooming something within him — you think that after being kicked out almost every year, that he'll never find a place to be. Everywhere he steps in, trouble catches up and is ready to grab his collars and sink him deeper into the pits.

To himself, he is an outcast — he has never belonged, he is the kid a Nancy Bobofit like-persona would pick on every chance, the weird kid who couldn't do well in school. A trouble-maker who'd burdened everyone.

Yet, Camp Half-blood entered his life — and everyone shares the same story. He isn't alone anymore, he's not different, he's everyone else — just like he'd dream.

Okay, I'll belong here, just fine. Percy thinks deep inside, giving you a half-smile. A shared silence falls between you two, turning your attention back to the beaming stars. You hear a stifled yawn beside you, Percy body sways like the calm winds — sleepiness overcoming his every being.

He crawls back, uttering a curt goodnight. His snores now adding on to the never-ending piles of sleepy campers — it's annoying, but it's starting to lull you to your own sense of slumber.

"Goodnight, Percy," you reply back, already finding his body deep within the covers. You observe how his face flinches, before coming down to a little smile - he was thinking of his mom. You come closer to his side.

"May the stars guide you,"  you whisper, it's unfamiliar on your tongue. It better suits your sister, however you wished the words wrapped the nightmares that plagued him. It worked when your sister uttered them when you tossed and turned at sleepless nights, gentle hands soothing you down.

You pray to that the boy beside you, who's face shone brightly at the mention of his mother. That he would not succumb to the horrors being a demigod would bring him. The grief that weighed on your , the flashes of other campers before him, who crumbled under the gods.

Do they even care?

You hope they will, someday. Turning over to observe the brightest star, a speckle of hope in your heart.

"Goodnight..."

Your voice halts at what you want to say next - "mom." Shaking your head, you return the blanket over your heaving chest.

"You really did make the stars nicer," you blurt out, a tinge of frustration in your tone. "It's not that bad." you snicker mockingly, hoping it'll anger her a bit.

Maybe, if you squinted hard enough, the star twinkled back for a brief moment. Urania's weird way of scolding, you wished - but the gods never cared, do they?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

first chapter done! wohoo, hope you enjoyed this is the first ever book i've written and decided to post so im shy, hehe... reblogs and comments are HIGHLY appreciated, would love to gain insight on how to improve this story -- so any beta reader who can give me advice thank you!

also i lowkey bawled because I DELETED A GOOD PORTION OF THIS FIC I HAD TO REWRITE IT AUGHHH.

fun fact : the camper who can see ghosts is actually another reader insert i plan to release, someday :0! (try to guess who's their godparent is)

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 1: Memento Mori

Okay, so first the prologue, and now the first chapter. As I've said before, not all chapters include a Josh-interactions because of accuracy to the game, so you'll just have to live with it. If you haven't read the Prologue, go to my profile, then the masterlist, Josh Washington. You'll find it there. Get ready for tomorrow!

❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀

Chapter 1: Memento Mori

After what happened up on the mountain last year, Josh didn’t stay in touch. At first we all tried to talk to him, help him, but we gave up one after another. He talked with Sam a lot. I think she did the most she could until he cut contact. I didn’t want to put too much on him, and we all were in grief as well, so it probably was the best solution. 

Sam and I had regular coffees. It helped us both. We shared stories about them, and she told me about everything which happened that night. The prank wasn’t about me, nor Josh. Not even Beth, but she still had to suffer the consequences. Poor Beth, and poor Hannah. We all knew she had a thing for Mike, but setting her up like that was not okay. I now despised them all, Jessica, Emily, Mike, Matt, Ashley. Matt was such a sweet guy, I couldn’t imagine him standing there with a camera, recording everything. For me though, Ashley hurt the most. I loved her, I truly did, but I cut contact quickly after I got to know about the evening. She sent me a bunch of texts, begging me to talk to her. She was sorry, she was drunk, caught up in the moment, and everyone was doing it so she felt like she had to. She never knew that the aftermath would be as bloody as it did. I still didn’t text her back. 

A month before the anniversary of their disappearance, Sam got a video message from Josh. He invited her up to the cabin again, stating that this would be a way to honour their memory, and relive the experience, but with a good ending. There would be booze, partying and just making new memories. Based on the video, it seemed like he asked everyone in the old group. Everyone except me. I felt hurt. Betrayed in a way. I was one of the few he talked to, cried to. Our relationship didn’t evolve after the event, but I was still there for him, trying to comfort him. Sam told me that I should come with her, but I declined. If he didn’t want me there, it was okay. She couldn’t understand why, but she kept being insistent, urging me to give it a chance. I didn’t have to be there the whole time, and if I wanted to, I could leave the very next day since the bus went through the area once every day. 

It would be good to talk to Josh, maybe even if he didn’t want to. I was selfish, I knew that, but I had to see him. I wanted to see how he was doing, how he was feeling. This also made me think of Chris. He would probably be there, and I hadn’t kept in touch with him either. I felt bad, but at the same time, we weren’t that close. I knew that he still hung out with Ashley sometimes, and maybe that made me a bit afraid. Maybe she would try to contact me through him? Maybe I wasn’t just selfish. Ashley also needed to talk. Talk to me, clear the air. I would let her. I finally agreed to come with Sam up to the cabin. 

***

The bus is empty, except for Sam and I of course. She didn’t pack much, and I didn’t either. I figured that I wouldn’t stay long. I just needed to talk to people, get some weights off my shoulders. The radio is playing, and no surprise, it’s about Beth and Hannah. I hold my composure, trying not to cry. The trip is long, and I end up sleeping on her shoulder for a good amount of it. Sam is watching something on her phone, but I don’t peek. I simply look out the window. There is an eerie feeling to these mountains. I felt the same last year, but this time it feels stronger. The black trees are covered in snow, untouched by animals. 

Finally we reach our stop. The sign says “Blackwood Pines” and hadn’t it been for last year's events, I would still love the name. Being here for the first time felt magical, straight out of Narnia, joining a winter wonderland of mystery. Now, I feel nervous. The air isn’t as fresh, the ground not as hard and the snow was too white. Instead of smelling winter, I smell something musk, like a dead animal or rotten meat. I look over at Sam, and I think she notices too. 

We start walking in silence, through the gate and up the trail. As we walk, she stops. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I whisper, getting anxious. Maybe it’s a wild animal, a wolf or a bear. 

“Hello!?” Sam shouts, and my eyes widen. Why would she do that, what if the animal looks at us as a threat now. I look around, expecting something to pop out, but it’s silent. 

“Sorry, I probably just thought I heard something,” she says, continuing walking. She notices my tenseness. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, absolutely not” I state, looking around again. 

“Hey I get it, this is weird, but we’re doing this for Josh right,” she starts, taking my hand, stopping me. 

“I hate to say it, but you need to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen, and people are just being friendly”

“I know, I know. I just can’t shake off this feeling that there’s something here”

“It’s because of last year. We’re all still thinking about it, so we know how you’re feeling”

I look up at her. She’s right, I’m not alone in this, and we’ve both been there for each other the whole year. 

“Yeah, thanks for the talk. It’s just… well, weird”

“It is, but I think this is good for you. This trip could be a way for you to let go, get some closure. They both would’ve wanted that for you” she says, before pulling me into a hug. I breathe, and some of the tension lifts. Thank God I still have Sam. When we pull away she looks at me, smiling. I smile back, before looking behind her. My mouth opens, eyes widen and my breath hitches. I grab her hand, holding hard. 

“S-Sam, c-c-careful. Stand s-s-till,” I whisper. She holds her breath while searching my face for answers. 

“Boo!” I shout, punching her with both my hands. She screeches, jumps and I feel her pulse in her hand. 

“Got you” I laugh, while she’s still trying to compose herself. 

“Fucking asshole” she says. I can’t stop laughing. 

“You know, you’re going to ‘wolf wolf’ me.”

“I can live with that” I continue laughing, before starting to walk again, her following after. 

“I’m joking, that was out of line, sorry” I say after a while. 

“At least you got to see my ‘frozen’ face”

“Yeah that’s why I laughed” 

We reach the gate, and a piece of paper is pinned on the lock. 

“The gate’s busted, climb over -Chris” 

“I guess we have to climb,” I state, looking at the gate. There are big spikes on the top of the gate, so I look over at the side. It’s a stone wall. 

“Right up my alley” Sam says enthusiastically. Of course it is. 

“I’ll give you a lift first if you take my bag” she says, already taking off her bag. 

“Fine, just don’t throw me over with those strong climber-arms of yours” I reply, taking her bag and making my way to the wall. She puts out her hands and I grab somewhere safe on the wall. She helps me get up, and I jump down the other side, looking up, waiting for her. 

“Gosh, the stones are cold” she complains, finally getting to the top. 

“Should’ve worn gloves” I smile, showing off my red-covered hands in a theatrical manner. She laughs before hopping down. I give her backpack back, and we continue up. 

When we finally arrive at the cable car station, the place seems empty. I see a couple of cars in the parking lot, but don’t want to check who they belong to. One of them must be Josh’s. I walk up to the bench, noticing a backpack and a ringing phone. My curiosity is immense, but I don’t touch it. Sam notices who’s bag it is. 

“Hey Chris!” she yells, looking around for him. 

“Hey guys” he answers, and we both turn around. He seems older, more harsh than the year before, but I don’t comment on it. 

“How are you ladies?”

“Well, as you can expect” Sam answers, still smiling. I smile as well, keeping the mood light. I don’t notice how much I’ve missed him before seeing him now. Something in me breaks a little. 

“Oh, so, I found something kind of amazing”

“What?”

“I’m not gonna tell you got to see for yourself” he smiles, grabbing his backpack and leading us around the house. We get to the other side where we’re met with a shooting range. Barrels and bottles stacked for hitting, as well as bags hanging from the trees. 

“Ta-da! Pretty rad right?” Chris exclaims, loving this a bit too much. Sam forces a smile, guns are not a source of happiness for a pacifist. 

“A gun range on the bottom of a ski lodge” I comment. “How… nordic?”

Chris picks up a gun before looking at me. 

“Well, have you met Josh’s dad?”

“Yeah”

“Then we shouldn’t be surprised” he says before turning and aiming the gun. I hold my breath, not comfortable with this funny clumsy guy holding a death-weapon. He shoots the bags and one of the cans. I’m kind of impressed. 

“Nice shootin Tex” Sam teases, not impressed. I guess it would take something better than shooting to impress her. She fakes an annoyed look before turning my way. 

“Wanna try?”

“You know what, sure. It’s been a while” I say before taking the gun from him, taking off my backpack and laying it beside me. 

“You’ve done this before?”

“Josh has taken me shooting several times, not hunting though, luckily” I smile, remembering how close we felt the first time he showed me how to use it. 

“I bet that’s not the only thing you two have done” he comments, a smirk on his lips. 

“Haha, funny guy” I tease back. Sam holds her laughter. I shoot a couple of bags, stopping when a squirrel jumps on one of the barrels. 

“I guess that’s our sign to start going to the lodge,” I say, leaving the gun and grabbing my bag. 

“Jeez, I wish Josh would take me shooting,” Chris says, and I smile. 

The cable car is coming, and Sam makes her way over there. I use the opportunity to grab ahold of him. 

“Hey Chris, about this year-” I start, but he holds a finger up, signalling for me to stop. 

“I get it, if I were in your shoes I would’ve done the same”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s weird being back, but I’ve been wanting to clear up everything. We should keep in contact, even though you don’t want to talk to Ashley, I understand”

“When did you become such an understanding gentleman,” I tease, punching his arm and start walking. He lifts his arms in the air. 

“Haven’t I always been?” And I laugh at him. 

We all get in the cable car, and it starts moving up. Chris starts talking about how he and Josh met, and I pay close attention. I’ve only heard this story from Josh, and I love getting the different story-perspectives. 

***

We arrive at the top, I stand and try to open the door. It will not open. 

“Uh, guys, I can’t get the door open.” Chris tries, but can’t manage either. His response is to smack the window. 

“Ahh, what the hell!” I hear someone say. Jessica. I compose myself. 

“Jess! Over here, open the door!” Chris shouts. I see her through the window, and I bite my lips from having to look put together. Don’t look like a bitch, don’t look like a bitch, don’t look like you have anything against this piece of scum. I keep chanting in my head. 

She opens the door, and we all thank her. As we walk out, Chris starts whining. 

“Oh my god. I thought we were goners. Another ten minutes in there and I would’ve chewed off my own leg.”

“Aw, sick Chris,” Sam comments. 

“Look, I’ve got a lot of meat on my bones. This is all muscle down there.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Yeah riiiiiight”

“Keep telling yourself that Chris,” I add, clapping him on the shoulder as I walk past him. He lowers his voice to a whisper. 

“Well, we all know who’s bone you want to jump…”

I turn around, mouth agape and eyes threatening. He immediately puts his hands up in defence, walking backwards two paces. 

“Just jokes, just jokes” says, voice cracking. 

“Dickhead”

“Notice how I’m not going to make another joke about that,” he answers. I quickly make a snowball and throw it at him, hitting his chest. Sam places herself between us, arms tense as if waiting for someone to attack. 

Chris uses this opportunity to snatch whatever Jess is holding. 

“Well, well, well… What do we have here?”

“Chris” Sam starts. He opens it, a surprised look on his face. 

“My goodness! Seems like someone has a crush on our good friend and dear class president Michael Munroe.” Shit. That’s not good. 

“Chris,” I threaten. 

“And what kind of sizzling erotica might our Jessica be capable of imagining, I wonder…”

Before he’s able to see more, Jess quickly snatches the item back. 

“If you must know-” she starts.

“Mike and I are together now.” We all look at each other. 

“Drama,” Chris answers. 

“No, pretty cut clean actually. Em’s out, I’m in,” she explains. I look over at Sam. She doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, Chris breaks the awkwardness. 

“Well, we should keep going” 

“You go, I’ll be waiting here for a bit”

“Waiting for Mike?”

“Just go”

We oblige, walking further and leaving her behind. The trail is quite big and visible. It’s comfortable to walk on. As we turn a corner, I see the cabin. The cabin where Josh is, where Ashley is probably waiting. The cabin which was the last place two of our best friends were seen alive one year ago.

[hanta-seros-wifey]

something in the orange| fratboy!katsuki bakugo x f!softgirl!reader

summary: childhood competitive friends take a college cooking course together for fun. katsuki bakugo, our amazing frat boy, and y/n, our amazing soft hearted girl. katsuki has a soft spot for her, but because of his ego won't let it show. denki being denki, lets a secret spill out which can ultimately make or break your friendship with katsuki bakugo

authors note: reader is best friends with denki, sero, kyoka, and tenya!!

chapter 3: new friends & frat parties

you come out of your dorm and walk down the steps to the common room to find out all your other dormmates. it's a filled common room and you spot katsuki on the couch with eijiro, denki, and to your surprise hanta. he sits with a pink haired girl and you feel a tad bit uneasy.

she seems to have the eyes for eijiro, but you'll keep an eye on it. a tap on your shoulder catches you off guard as you turn around to see it was tenya. "greetings" he says and you giggle. "no need to be so formal tenya" you say lightly touching his forearm. "want to take a seat?" he asks you and you nod sitting on a couch not far from katsuki.

"so what's your major?" you ask as you cross your legs and look at him. "biomedical sciences and you?" he asks and you tell him it's dance. "so doctor route i presume?" you ask him and he nods. "i come from a family of doctors it's only right to add on to the line of many doctor iida's" he says and you nod.

"do you know what kind or is it all too new to know which specialty?" you ask and he shifts to move his body facing you. "i'm thinking more surgeon route if anything it's between pediatrics and neurology" he said and you nod smiling. "i could never do all of that too much memorization" you giggle and he nods. "well classes start tomorrow i already know so much is going to be on my plate already" he sighs and gives you a soft smile.

"hey dance major right?" you hear a girl say and turn around to see a girl with dark purple hair. "yea im y/n" you say trailing off to catch her name. "kyoka jiro but just call me jiro" she says kindly. "im a music major maybe we can collab at some point" she says and you nod excitedly. "yeah sounds awesome" you say smiling widely.

"hi im mina!" a girl said and you turn your head to see the pink haired girl. "im y/n" you say trying to be nice as she sits close to katsuki. "im majoring in journalism and im also officially apart of the UA newspaper so make sure to grab a copy on campus!" she says with a smile. she seems nice. "okay sure! i'm a dance major" you tell her and she nods. "kats over here told us" she says and your smile fades. kats?

"yea kats and i go way back" you say with a smile and the hint of jealousy that was in your voice. katsuki picked up on it and he smirked. "hey y/n!" denki said plopping down next to you and you smile. "hi denks" you say with a smile. "i love your pajama set where'd you get it?" mina asks eyeying you.

"kats' mom actually got it for me for my 18th birthday" you smile and she turns her head to katsuki. he nods confirming it and she lets out a huff. "whats your major denks?" you ask and he sits up straight. "communications" he says proudly and eijiro and katsuki stifle their laughter.

"hey whats wrong with communications? dont be mean" you lightly scolded the boys. denki pouts playfully "yeah dont be mean" he laughs and you join him. "and you eiji?" you ask and he flushes a bit red at your little nickname for him. "aerospace engineering" he says and you whistle. "we got the next man of NASA right here" hanta jokes and you all laugh.

you went around the room greeting everyone else. you learned yuga was a graphic design major. tsuyu was studying astronomy. ochaco in antrhopology. mashirao in criminology. koji in animal science. rikido in nutrition and food sciences. mezo in environmental. fumikage in psychology. toru in criminology. you obviously knew izuku was studying chemical engineering. minoru in film and media studies. momo in kinesiology.

you all stay down there for awhile, cooking dinner together. you all called it a night at around 10 to get ready for tomorrow's first set of classes. you walk into your dorm a cup of tea in hand, courtesy of momo, and a hand stops your door from closing. you turn to see katsuki.

"hey kats" you said smiling letting him in and closing the door. "you jealous of pinky?" he asks with a smirk and you tilt your head confused. "who's pinky?" you ask trying to piece together who the hell pinky is. "ashido?" he says and it clicks. "that mina girl?" you ask rolling your eyes.

"hah!" he says catching you off guard. "what?" you say turning to put down your mug down on your nightstand. “you rolled your eyes you are jealous” he pushes and you narrow your eyes. “dont worry she’s got the hots for kirishima she’s just messing with you” he assures you and you nod.

“not that i care but thank you” you smile at him. “whats on your schedule tomorrow?” he asks as he sits in your chair. “i’ve got math, english, and contemporary dance 101” you say sipping your tea.

“how long is that?” he asks as he eyes the stuff on your desk. you have pictures of your senior year pinned most of them containing katsuki and izuku. “3 hours” you said moving towards him.

“i remember this” he says pointing at a photo of you and katsuki. it was prom and you stood back to back throwing up peace signs with sunglasses on. “fun times” you said and rolled the chair so he’s facing you.

“get out im tired” you demand nodding your head towards the door. “yeah yeah” he grumbles getting up and looking down at you. he eyes your outfit and mentally thanks his mom for this pajama set. he looks around your dorm and lightly smiles.

“your room is very y/n” he says admiring the pastels and bows. “katsuki dorm tour soon?” you playfully asked opening your door letting him out.

“never” he grumbles and your smile fades. “goodnight kats” you said going to close the door. “night” is all he says as he walks down the singular flight of stairs to the 4th floor. you closed it and leaned against it, exhaling out a sigh.

you were going insane.

●~*

you changed into dark jeans (that have bows on it), a light blue long sleeve top, and topped it off with some uggs. you put your hair into two braided pigtails and smiled at your reflection. you walked out grabbing your bag and lock your dorm. "you look nice" you hear from behind you and you turn to see todoroki.

"hey shoto" you smiled and blushed a bit at his compliment. "heading to class?" he asks and you nod starting to walk down the stairs with him trailing behind you.

“how was the rest of your night?” he asks kindly and you give him a smile. “it was good! how about yours?” you asked him and he only nods his head. “it was good too” is all he says.

“what class do you have this early?” you asked as you grab an orange juice carton from the fridge in the kitchen. “english” he grumbles and you smile, shoto looking at you confused.

“with professor yamada?” you asked hoping he was in that course as well. “yes thats the one” he says sort of relieved to have someone he partially knows in the same class. “excuse me” you hear and turn around to see tenya.

“good morning tenya” you smiled at him but he kept eyeying the orange juice carton in your hand. “my apologies good morning y/n” he bows down to you and you blush. “i see you have an orange juice carton” he points out and you nod holding it up.

he clears his throat shifting on his two feet uncomfortably. “is something wrong tenya?” you asked as you looked up at shoto and he only shrugged his shoulders. “its just i bought those for myself- im willing to share though i can always go out and buy more!” he rambled and you widened your eyes.

“oh im so sorry i didnt know!” you said trying to hand it back to him and he shook his head pushing it back to you. “keep it i insist” he says holding your hands gently to stop you from handing him the juice back.

“thank you tenya” you smiled at him and he smiled down at you. “should we get going?” shoto asked you and you nodded. “bye tenya” you gave him a small hug and started walking out of the common room with shoto.

“hey” you heard and stopped walking. katsuki reaches you and eyes shoto up and down. “you gonna be in the studio later” he asks and you nod. “i have a room reserved for 5:30 why?” you asked and he only nods walking away.

“he’s a weird one isnt he?” shoto says and you nod walking out of the common area with shoto.

●~*

its 5 o clock when you reach the dance studio desperately wanting to get some practice in. your contemporary 101 class has you already working on choreography you’ll be performing for the class. you thought long and hard on which song to dance to.

you swiped your id card and opened the doors to the building. you went up the second floor and swiped your id card again to get into the private room. your phone dings and you move to grab your phone along with your speaker.

kats 🍓

you in the studio?

you reply with a yes and you see he starts typing again.

kats 🍓

be there in 5

you react with a thumbs up leaving him on read and you walk out to wait for him. you see him with his practice bag along with his school backpack. “hey grumps” you smirked at him and he scowls at you.

“let us in dork” he grumbles out and you swipe your ID card again and lead him into the room. “got some homework to do” he mumbles and you nod as he sets himself up in the corner.

“you wont bother me just dance” he says and you nod as you play the song of choice. no. 1 party anthem plays in the room as you move to the center of the room.

as you dance and figure out choreography along the way, you noticed katsuki was distracted. “you distracted?” you smiled down at him and he contorts his face into one of confusion.

“‘m not” he defends and goes back to scrolling through the spreadsheets on his computer for an assignment. you stop the music and go to lay down next to katsuki.

you sigh, tired. “theres a frat party this friday” he says typing on his computer and you turn to look at him. “already?” you ask and he nods. “yea my frat” he says it like its not new information to you.

“hold on you joined a frat?!” you said sitting up and he shrugs. “yea with the boys” he says it like its casual. “and who’s the boys” you mock still in shock. “kirishima, honenuki, iida, kaminari” he says still looking at his computer.

“wanna come?” he asks and looks at you. you thought about it. “sure why not” you shrug getting up and playing the music again as katsuki watches you silently in awe.

●~*

wednesday comes and you sit next to katsuki in a stool. your baking class being a weekly class held on wednesdays. your professor is going over the syllabus and the many recipes you’ll be doing this quarter.

you nudge katsuki playfully and he nudges you back. “okay class we’ll start off with an easy recipe, brownies!” she says as she pulls the recipe onto the screen. “you’ll be working alone for this one, but in future there will be group assignments” she says as you all got up to grab aprons and the utensils.

“mine are gonna come out better” katsuki says as he starts cracking eggs into his bowl. “nuh uh” you said and rolled your eyes playfully as you get to work making brownies from scratch.

katsuki gets distracted watching you mix the ingredients together. “take a picture kats it’ll last longer” you said looking up at him and winking before moving to grab a tray to dump your mix in.

he starts mixing his ingredients, embarrassed he got caught. you smirk to yourself as you dump your mix in and move towards the oven popping yours in and setting a timer on your phone. katsuki follows you shortly after and pops his in.

“now we wait to see who’s is the best” he taunts looking down at you and moving to clean up his area. between the time it takes to clean up your respective areas, your timer goes off. you happily move to get your brownies out carefully. you bring it back to your station and grab a knife.

you start cutting it into 8 even pieces as bakugo’s timer goes off and he grabs his out of the oven. “mine smell so good” you tease as you carefully continue cutting as katsuki starts cutting his.

you pull out a piece gently setting it down on a paper plate provided by your professor. once the class settles down and everyone’s done, she comes around to taste test them.

“your name honey?” she says waiting to write it down on the grading sheet she was giving out to students after grading their brownies. “y/n l/n” you smiled at her as she quickly writes it down. she takes a bite and she immediately hums indicating its good.

“you added a little something in here huh” she smiles writing down a 30/30 on your sheet and handing it to you. she moves on to katsuki’s. she takes a bite and she nods as she chews. “somethings missing” she whispers to herself.

she gives him a 28/30 and you stifle your laugh as he looks down at you as she walks away to grade other brownies. fuck you, katsuki mouths and you smile up at him. “class dismissed” your professor said and everyone got up taking their brownies in tupperware.

“wanna taste mine?” you playfully asked as katsuki held both of your bags and walked in the direction of the dorms. “fuck you” he looks the other way. he knows he’ll definitely steal one later.

●~*

friday rolls around and you slip on a small baby pink dress. you throw on a white cardigan and pair it off with white heeled boots. you spray your perfume and look in the mirror.

you smile at yourself and grab your purse walking out of your dorm, locking it. “ready?” you hear the familiar voice of katsuki bakugo and you turn around. he rakes his eyes across your body in awe.

“yea” you breathed out going red slightly and walking past him down the stairs. he walks you both there and upon reaching it, you instantly want to go back to your dorm. “do we have to kats?” you asked as you leaned into him.

“come on princess” he teases and leads you into the house. youre immediately pulled into the kitchen where katsuki’s boys are at. “hey!” denks yells throwing an arm around your shoulder. “drink?” he offers pointing at the assortment of liquor and tequila on the countertop.

“not made by you” katsuki grumbles as he pours himself some water. “you arent drinking kats?” you ask quietly playing with your sleeves nervously. he only shakes his head and you look at eijiro.

he smirks at you and katsuki and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. you turn red and look the other way. juzo smiles at you and you smile back. “want anything to drink?” he asks as he bends down slightly to say it into your ear for you to hear.

you nod your head and he extends his hand out to you, for you to take. you take it as he leads you to the countertop where all the drinks are. katsuki watches carefully, denki and eijiro catching on. tenya walks in and does handshakes with all of them.

“so heres vodka we can mix it with anything you’d like” juzo starts and you look up at him, nodding along. “rum with coke is another option” he points out and you nod your head again. “whats your pick?” he asks leaning against the counter looking at you.

you scan the options and eye the rum. “a rum with coke please” you smile sweetly up at him and he gets to work mixing it for you. you watch him intently and once he’s done, hands it to you. katsuki watches with his arms crossed and jaw clenched.

denki pats his shoulder roughly. “lighten up” he slurs and goes to dance with some girl that pulled him out of the kitchen. he comes back stumbling before he’s officially out of the kitchen. “dont let your ego get to you, admit you like her bro” and then he’s officially dragged out.

eijiro and tenya smirk at katsuki and nod and all he could do was scoff and rolls his eyes. “i dont” he grumbles. “dude the way you look at her says so much” eijiro says and katsuki only shakes his head. “dont miss out on it” tenya says passing by and shooting a small smile to katsuki.

he scoffs again watching you and juzo. you guys laugh at something he apparently said and his stomach does a flip. what’s so funny? “probably just 2 juz” you giggle as you watch him mix up another drink for you.

“good call” he nods finishing it up and handing it to you again. “you look really pretty” juzo says staring down at you. katsuki hears this and scoffs again. you look absolutely fucking stunning in his eyes. you blush and look down letting out a small thank you.

juzo wraps an arm around your waist cautiously and leads you out of the kitchen. you smile at katsuki on your way out giving him a small bye and he tries to give you a smile, but fails. you sit on the stairs all night talking with juzo.

you got to know each other and when katsuki comes to collect you to walk you back to your dorm, you give juzo a smile, a hug, and your number. “goodnight juz” you smile down at him and he lets a goodnight with the biggest smile on his face.

katsuki leads you out of the house and begins the walk across campus. “kats i did it!” you said excitedly shaking his shoulder. “i see” he says sarcastically. you push him lightly “come on be happy for me!” you said with such excitement. “let me know if i have to beat him up” he mumbles and you nod your head.

“you gonna start looking for someone?” you nudge his arm and he shakes his head no. “dont have the time for it” is all he says and you shut up the rest of the way back to the dorms. you unlock your door and look up katsuki. “how was it?” he asks indicating your very first party.

“loved it, will go again sometime” you smiled up at him. his heart tugs at your smile. he moves a piece of your hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you. “goodnight” he mumbles hesitantly moving forward to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“night kats” you smiled up at him and he moves out of the way so you can close the door. he stares at your door and mentally curses himself. the idiots are right.

taglist:

@arc6021

hey lovelies!! let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🫶🫶

[ashblooddragons]

This Mysterious Love (Chapter 1/?)

Daemons pov

I grip Mysaria's hips as I fuck her from behind, I try to think of anything but her. I'm about to feel the bliss of release when her face enters my mind. I abruptly stop my thrusts pulling out of my paramount and walking away to see the people of the streets. I slip a blanket over my shoulders fighting the chill that reaches my sweaty skin.

“What ails you my prince?” Mysaria says walking over to me. 

I say nothing as I know what she believes is ailing me. My brother's babe, if the thing is a boy I would rejoice with the rest of the court for my brother has wanted this for years. All I want is for him to be happy, and if that means having a son so be it. 

“The King can not replace you, my Prince. You are the Rogue Prince, rider of Caraxes. He would be a fool to replace you.” She says stroking my hair back comfortingly. 

Ah there it is. I think dryly. Can I truly not be seen as a man who wants the happiness of his family? Or must I always be questioned about the love I feel for my family? 

I see she is getting desperate to please me, she knows being my favorite whore gives her many benefits and much power in establishments like this one. 

“Perhaps I bring you a whore with silver hair? I can make sure she's a maiden as well.” She says and finally has my attention.

“No, bring me one with auburn hair and brown eyes, make sure she's a maiden.” I say in the tone I know makes even men tremble let alone a woman of low standing. 

She seems shocked but nods none the less walking away to grab her sheer shift slipping it on and leaving me to this piss poor wine and the sounds of people cheering and dogs fighting. 

Maybe if I fuck one that looks like you, Little Hightower, you'll finally evade my mind. I think hopefully, for why would I ever want a Hightower, let alone Otto's daughter? I can't want her, I don't want her.

Alicent's pov

I can't believe I actually wore the neck the Prince gave me. As I was getting ready for the tourney a maid knocked on my door and only handed me a sealed note before leaving. Upon opening it I quickly found the Prince's writing stating. 

Wear the necklace I gave you, Little Hightower, if you wish for me to take your favor as my own. D

I spent the next hour picking which dress matched the necklace best. I kept telling myself he demanded it of me, but I knew that was a lie. I wanted him to ask for my favor, I wanted to know we had a scent agreement, I wanted the Prince to choose me. 

So here I am, in a grey dress that compliments the pearls on the choker and my hair pinned up with a gold clip to match the gold chain. I try not to think about why I pulled my hair up so he would see his gift upon me. But from the way my cheeks warm I know I am failing. 

I turn to where Rhaenyra should be sitting as the King begins his speech. I try to fight the scowl that rises as I watch her sneak in trying to act like she was here the whole time. 

If I tried that I would have my hands beaten with a ruler until my knuckles were bloody by the Septa. I think, biting my tongue when Rhaenyra starts to joke about how she's late and her father doesn't even care. 

“He just continues on with his speech, what a pushover am I right?” She says with a light hearted giggle. 

All I can do is give a pinched smile and nod. I take in the outfit she chose for today, a rich red dress with frills at the neckline to imitate the look of a dragon. Golden rings she twists and turns around her fingers, and a matching golden necklace with a ruby pendant her mother gave to her two years past for her nameday. 

I take in the fact she is not wearing anything new, or should I say nothing I didn't know about. 

“Did your uncle not give you anything? He usually gifts you something to wear.” I ask curiously.

She frowns and shakes her head. “No, I was hoping for something though, but it seems he couldn't find anything.” She says trying to sound nonchalant even though I can tell it pains her. 

I nod and turn back to watch as the Baratheon is knocked off his horse by Ser Cole. 

I hear Rhaenyra ask questions to Ser Harrold about the Cole. The urge to step in with the knowledge I've picked up about the Ser Cole is on the tip of my tongue when I hear the announcer declare. “Prince Daemon, The Prince of the city will now pick his first bout!” 

I watch him walk back and forth upon his horse assessing each critically. Sadly I know when he has chosen, for it is my brother who seems to make him stop his horse and tilt his stick.

Oh please warrior, I know my brother will not win this but please let him live. I pray quickly before watching the match, hoping the gods have heard me. 

I feel the sting of my nails digging into my cuticles, but no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I command my body to stop this self-mutilation, I can’t. For there is something grounding in the act, the sting makes me stay present and not ide in the dark recesses of my mind. I know it is cruel upon my body, but how am I to break a habit I do not realize I am doing half the time? 

I watch with bated breaths as the Prince and my brother charge, the sound of hooves hitting the ground, metals rattling, and the resounding crunch of a jousting tick meeting a shield is all I can hear. I know Rhaenyra is talking to me as I feel her move about, the way she does when she thinks she’s telling a funny story. I know the King and my father must be muttering to each other behind me, I know the Princess Rhaenys is scoffing at any knight that walks by. But all I can hear, all I can see, is the Prince and my brother as they joust. 

I thank the Warrior when my brother makes it through the first bout, I almost believe he could possibly win this. But that hope comes crashing down when the Prince leans so his jousting stick hits my brother’s horse’s leg, sending them flying through the air and landing on the ground hard. 

Why isn’t he getting up? Isn’t he supposed to get up? I think biting into the inside of my lip until I taste blood. I about collapse into a pile on the ground when I watch two squires drag my brother out of the jousting ring. 

I watch as the Prince rides over to the royal box with his signature smirk. I fight the scowl that threatens to rise to my lips. I watch as his smirk widens when he notices the necklace, I fight the urge to rip the necklace from my throat and throw it at his feet. The feels as if this necklace is a show of my betrayal, of my idiocy as it burns into my throat. 

“Nicely done Uncle.” Rhaenyra says and I about gasp at how insensitive she can be. 

“Thank you, Niece. Now I’m sure can win these games, but having your favor, Little Hightower.” He says already leaning his jousting stick towards me. I want to say no, to tell him to go burn in the seven hells, but I know that it is improper to reject a knight so I turn to grab my favor and slip it onto the stick.

“Good luck, my Prince.” I say letting him see in my eyes the hate I feel for him now.

I walk back to my seat praying this Cole who seems to be promising, will take this smirking, good for nothing, Prince to be knocked down a peg or two. 

I sit there halfway listening to Rhaenyra halfway watching the joust between Cole and the Prince. The smile that comes to my face when the Prince is knocked off his horse, is nothing short of pure unadulterated joy. 

But soon I’m taken out of my thoughts by the whispers of the court, and only four words make me know how much mine and everyone’s lives are about to change.

The Queen is dead.

Special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! i swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @nommingonfood @yn-jackson @marvel-is-my-obsession @ninihrtss @dreamlandcreations @baybaybear1 @seaevans @fictionlurker @edenfanfictionsuggestions @zara-zara11

[definitelynotshouting]

In the least possibly pressury way, as in feel free to ignore this if it isn’t something you want to do, this is just purely bc i reread the hunger au and am hungering for more - do you have any updates on how the next chapter is going?

Also (this is the same anon who asked how Impulse confronted Grian a little while ago btw in case ur seeing a slightly pattern) would you feel like expanding on how the other hermits or non hermit lifers felt when they found out Grian made the life games? Or how they feel about the state he’s ended up in? (tho i completely get that that is probably a thing ur going to explore anyway im just having thoughts)

Anyway this is such a good au, ur writings fantastic and im loving what ur doing. As a writer myself I may be taking some notes on how u r writing these characters because the way you make us feel exactly what they r feeling is incredible!

I wish i could give more updates on hunger au's progress but to be completely honest with you anon, my irl life kinda uh 😅😅 just completely imploded right as i was getting back into the groove of things. I am making progress still, but its slower than i'd like-- by necessity ive had to emergency pivot my attention to more pressing matters going on rn 😭😭😭😭 trust me when i say its probably frustrating me more than anyone else at this point

I appreciate the compliments a lot tho!!! All of yalls encouraging words mean the world to me and make getting through these difficult situations a little bit easier❤️❤️❤️ i wish i could say more about how the hermits reacted, but thats actually MAJOR spoilers that im very excited to show you guys in-fic, so for now all i can really say is that you'll have to see :]]

[doubledeadstudio]

do you really think it'll take 7 years or is that just a hyperbole? 😅 ofc im willing to wait im completely OBSESSED but i cant tell if that was a joke or not lol

I am not joking! Though I think it'll be closer to 5 than 7, actually, that was a mistake. The roadmap was 7 years since release when I started, and it's Year 2 now. I suspect each chapter will take about 2 years to finish minimum.

RH actually began production 2 years before I released the Prologue, so I had a ton of script ready, but after this next update, I'll have to start writing things fresh, though I have a Plot Outline. The big scenes for Chapter 2 and 3 are already decided ahead of time.

Releases will be regular until it finishes and is launched on Steam, but I'm still trying to decide on whether I want to do a Kickstarter to fund things for the future or if I'm moving Chapter 2 or 3 behind Patreon in big batch releases like we're doing right now. Either way, I don't have a full-time job at all, so I need monetization avenues to support this project, but whether or not I get the funding, the timeline will still be similar because I don't want to outsource the Direction and the Writing elsewhere, but having the funding for the code, art (backgrounds and assets, not sprites), and music will be a huge weight off my back. The only real difference with funding will be reflected in the quality of the material. If you've been following RH a while, you'll notice that it has brand new code and effects that you've never seen before compared to last year.

[sendpseuds]

I wonder if Obi-Wan will mention the sleeping in his bed again?

Making Anakin blush is one of Obi-Wan's favorite pastimes, there is no way he misses this particular opportunity.

[muzzlemouths]

they're not even out of the woods yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

Yea