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[inklore]

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[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

We will meet again. | pt 2

Short summary: Ever since you had met Tom, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was mysterious and intriguing in the best possible way – if only he hadn’t disappeared out of nowhere at the Christmas market. It’s two weeks later now and you intend to spend Christmas Eve by yourself. Or will you?

Warnings: 18+ only! stalker!Tom, dub con, rough sex, extreme choking, impact play, degradation, biting, bondage, slight blasphemy ig, unprotected p in v, no aftercare

A/N: All I want for Christmas is… uhhh…

wordcount: 2,9k

part one | part three

Nobody messes with Tom Riddle’s head.

Especially not a muggle girl.

He let his guard down that day, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. You intrigued him in the worst possible way– an odd feeling he wasn’t used to blooming in his chest. One that only got stronger every time he had looked into your beautiful eyes, one that he couldn’t seem to let go, one that distracted him any time he wanted to simply read a book or study.

It has been driving him close to insanity.

Two weeks have passed since your encounter at the Christmas market and he had since found out where you lived, when you arrived home after work and, most importantly, he had a well worked out plan where he would teach you a little lesson.

Christmas Eve.

Fourteen days ago you met Tom, and he has never left your mind since. He has even followed you in some of your dreams. The necklace – you don’t wear it. Too much of a reminder of how he just left you behind, essentially having your friends think you’ve gone crazy as you rambled on about this tall, handsome stranger who you swore was just sitting there next to you on the bench. Without paying it any further attention, you have put the jewellery away, somewhere where you were sure you wouldn’t have to encounter it again for the next few months.

You live in your own apartment, within a small living room currently decorated with a middle-sized Christmas tree. The smell of pine needles and gingerbread hangs thick in the air, altogether creating a pleasant holiday feeling which perfectly fits to your tradition of watching a seasonal movie on Christmas Eve.

The season of love and peace doesn’t feel much like it when you have to decorate and organize everything yourself. The past few days have been nothing but tiring, which is why during the movie your eyelids flutter close every few minutes and you have to fight sleep with all your strength. Your exhaustion finally gets the better of you and you decide to head to bed, slipping into your fluffy bunny slippers and turning off the TV. After, you make your way to your bedroom, only the flashing Christmas decorations you had put up leading your way, casting a faint light on the otherwise empty hallway.

You touch the cold metal of the door handle and push down, entering your bedroom. Instead of darkness the dim light of your motion-sensing lamp greets you. It has been bugging often lately, just like the camera surveilling the front door entrance. Not even technicians you had hired could fix the issue – strange, you thought, especially as you have never had problems before. It’s probably due to the chilly weather they told you.

As you take a breath, a strange, yet familiar scent hits your senses. It reminds you of that day at the Christmas market. As you try to figure out where it was from exactly, Tom crosses your mind. It was his perfume, unmistakably, one that was so unique it was easily recognizable. Then, on the other hand, how could-

“You left your front door unlocked.”

A familiar voice, which you instantly make out to be Tom’s, snaps you out of your thoughts. You shriek, turning to face the figure behind you. You weren’t mistaken.

Your blood is rushing through your ears as he’s just standing there, arms behind his back, staring at you. Even in this faint lighting you could swear his eyes have gotten darker than last time you saw him.

“What the-? How did you get in here?” You breathe heavily, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of how calmly, eerily so, he was standing in the corner of your bedroom.

His lips twitch slightly, almost like he was about to reply, but instead he takes a measured step towards you. “Why aren’t you wearing my present?” he asks, voice low and controlled as his gaze sinks to the exposed skin of your cleavage, scanning it for the silver necklace he had left you in your handbag.

A scoff escapes your lips, and you shake your head. “Now tell me one good reason why I should. We have barely talked. You left without saying anything. I never asked you to come back either, especially not by breaking into my house.”

It wasn’t exactly true – of course you have been thinking about him. About how he caught your attention so easily in the first place, how different he was to other men. You even have dreamed of him. Yet, you weren’t a person to just simply forgive and forget.

“Leave, just like you did two weeks ago. You have no business being in here anyway.”

Tom’s expression doesn’t change as he stands still for another moment. Though, he then quickly advances toward you and before you can react properly, he grabs your arm and pushes you back against the cold wall of your bedroom, pinning you in place with his body.

“I am not going to leave any time soon.” He snarls as his hand wraps around your throat, just enough to feel your pulse under his touch. You have been messing with my head. And you know what happens to people that mess with my head?”

“Bad things. Horrible, in fact.”

You avoid his piercing gaze best as you can. “Well,” you huff, “that is not my fucking-“

Smack.

You hiss, head whacking to the side as his palm strikes your cheek forcefully, the burning sting radiating through your body. And damn – it shouldn’t make you feel the way it does.

“I am going to scream.” You croak best as you can, though you aren’t quite sure if you could under his firm grip.

“For help?“ he taunts, his lips curling up in a smug grin, “I would like to see you try.”

“I know what you have been dreaming of the past two weeks. Exactly this, isn’t it? My hand wrapped around your pretty throat, fucking you senseless. You can’t hide from me.”

“I have no clue what you-“

You hiss as a sharp pain in your head cuts off your lie, and the world around you shifts into something oddly familiar, a scenery you recognize from one of your dreams you had two nights ago.

It was you and him after your encounter at the Christmas market, but instead of disappearing, he had come home with you.

Not only that, though.

“God Tom, please!” You whine, lifting your hips from the mattress to meet his harsh thrusts, desperately chasing your high as he hits all the right spots that have your vision blur.

He looks so perfectly messy like this – sweat glistening on his skin, his beautiful brunette curls sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes. The most raw and gorgeous groans come from his slightly parted lips, and you swear that sight alone would push you over the edge soon enough.

“Tell me what you need, and I will give it to you.”  Tom encourages, sucking marks into the tender skin of your neck.

“Need you to choke me. Please.” You manage, and his hand tightly wraps around your throat in an instant, as though he was waiting for those exact words to spill over your lips.

“Anything for you.”

And just like that, the scenery shifts again. You whimper as the stinging pain in your head disappears, and you are met with the brunette staring right at you with a cruel smirk, his face inching closer to yours until he is merely a breath away.

“It would be oh so cruel of me to deny you-“ Tom rasps, his voice laced with sarcasm as his hand finds its way under your skirt, “what you have been craving for so badly, don’t you think?”

A nod. A nod is all you can manage in return. You don’t even have time to question whatever just happened, inhaling shakily as his hand travels up your bare thigh, thumb brushing over the damp spot on your panties. Tom furrows his eyebrows and groans, lowly, at the feeling of your arousal on his finger.

“This turns you on? You are more pathetic than I thought.”

The firm grip he has on your throat softens, and your lungs finally expand with oxygen as you suck in a deep breath. He takes out a weird looking stick from inside his coat and mutters something for you inaudible. Just a second later your clothes are neatly folded on the floor and you stand there – half-naked, merely your lace underwear left on your otherwise exposed figure. You gasp in surprise and instinctively try to cover yourself, however Tom is quicker, grabs your wrist and sits you down on the soft mattress of your bed. Then, he does the same thing again, to himself this time.

Your eyes widen, trying to comprehend whatever just happened right in front of your eyes. “How- who are you? Some kind of magician?”

The brunette huffs, pushing you down onto the velvety sheets of your bed. “I am much more than a mere magician.”

And this time, he would let you keep the memory.

Before you can reply anything, he hovers above you, trailing kisses down your neck. Not like those you are used to from past experiences, though. They are rough and full of hunger, teeth grazing your skin, biting down here and there, practically marking you up as his own. Just like those dreams you have had.

Tom trails lower, stopping right at the swell of your breasts. “Still wearing too much.” He mutters under his breath, but it’s too late when you realize his intention. The material of your bralette rips with a sharp tear as it gives way to the force he is applying, the fabric sliding off to each side.

You want to complain, tell him that was one of your favourites, but when his teeth sink into the flesh of your breast any sane thoughts vanish from your mind. “Tom! Are you crazy?!” You shriek, attempting to push his head off you.

“Some people would say insane.” He retorts almost too calmly, lifting his head to answer, though not wasting much time before he dips down again to wrap his lips around your stiffened bud, sucking and biting down on it.

You throw your head back as soft moans escape your parted lips, your fingers raking through his perfect curls, tugging on them just slightly. His hand wanders down your stomach, and with a quick motion your panties are thrown on the floor.

“That is by the way no proper way to undress a woman.” You scold, and his eyes meet yours for a moment.

“You must be utterly delusional to assume I cared about that.”

Shaking your head you reach to the waistband of his briefs to get rid of them, blindly taking his length in your hand while you study his facial expressions. Only when you stroke him up and down, rubbing your thumb over his with precum glistening tip, you notice his size. Fuck.

His hand takes yours, pinning both of them above your head. Tom stills then, his eyes skimming over your naked figure underneath him for a brief moment as though he wanted to imprint your form into his mind forever.

“Keep your hands up there.” He demands lowly, and that is when you feel him aligning himself with your entrance, pushing into you steadily. You gasp at the blissful stretch Tom is providing you, burying his cock in your warm, welcoming walls.

“Season of love and peace, hm?” He rasps, pulling out of you almost entirely. “Let me show you what that means to me.”

A whole lot apparently.

“Because all you have caused me is anger and frustration.”

“Oh fuck- that’s too deep!” You cry out as he thrusts back into you at his last words, with much greater force this time. “Yeah? And I know you love it. Look how greedy you are, sucking me right in. See what a pathetic slut you are for it.”

His demeanour has in the meanwhile changed into something darker, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he mercilessly pounds into your tight cunt. You don’t exactly know what you have done wrong – he left you behind after all, not the other way around. However, who were you to complain if it meant you would get this?

Your hands reach to hold onto him, digging your nails into his skin, mark him like he did with you. A short-lived idea, it turns out. Tom hisses something, a word you can’t quite understand, and your hands return to their position above your head. Securely fastened with invisible binds.

“Wh- oh god! Oh dear god fuck-“ you cry out as he repeatedly hits that one spot deep inside of you that has stars blur your vision, subsequently having his hand wrap around your throat to muffle your moans. Then, his burning gaze meets yours.

“God? Pray to me. I am the only one above you, pray to me.”

Tom’s grip on your throat tightens at that, almost cutting off your airflow entirely.

Dreams do come true, after all.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other fills the room, and the air grows thick with the smell of lust and desire. You get to feel all of him, every single vein, even the slight curve of his perfect length. It all feels too good, too much for you to take. With your hands tied and voice taken away, that though is the only thing you can do – taking it.

“How does it feel-“ he breathes heavily, his dark brown curls sticking to his forehead as he punctuates his question with particularly rough thrusts. “How does it feel to be completely at my mercy, hm? To have me decide whether you get to take another breath?”

You can’t manage a reply, too caught up in pleasure clouding your mind, too focused on the slight sting you get as he brushes your cervix with every thrust as your walls give way to him entirely.

Soon your eyes flutter close, your consciousness slowly fading away under the firm grip he has on your throat. His hand then releases you, instead delivering a harsh smack to your cheek.

He adds another one as you don’t respond immediately.

“Breathe.”

You cough, gasping for air as your vision slowly comes back to you and are met with the brunette glancing down at you. “Doing so well for me.” He groans lowly, his thrusts growing more erratic as you clench around him, feeling your own high building rapidly.

“Please- please I need you to-“ you whine, bucking your hips against his thrusts for more friction. He reaches between you two, thumb finding your clit, rubbing figure eights on it. “S’ that what you need?”

You nod frantically. “Yes, oh Tom-“ your wrists pull at the bindings, but it’s no use. “Come. Come and show me how much of a slut you are for me.”

That’s the only thing you need to hear before the waves of your climax wash over you, repeating his name like a prayer as your cunt greedily pulses around his length, encouraging his release as well.

“I fucking- hate you-“ he grunts, emptying himself inside of you, biting down on your shoulder and collapsing on your spent body afterwards. You two stay like this for a brief moment before he pulls out of you. Tom keeps your legs spread and you whimper softly as his fingers swipe through your glistening folds, gathering some of your mixed arousal before he brings it to your lips.

“Open up. Taste us.” He demands, and you follow his command, taking his digits into your mouth to suck them clean. You never take your eyes off him, and the sight in front of you is heavenly. Tom looks oddly messy like this, hair disheveled, beads of sweat visible on his forehead, lips slightly parted as he breathes. Lord have mercy, you think.

 He withdraws his fingers from your mouth and cleans himself with what you have learned to be his wand. “You are a wizard?” You ask, sitting up to meet his gaze.

Tom nods. “Do not speak to anyone about this. Or I won’t have mercy with you next time.”

You grin. “There will be a next time?”

Just another second later and he stands before you, fully dressed in his black robes, his eyes wandering over your figure and his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Maybe. If you wear the necklace.”

You point towards the mess on your sheets and inner thighs expectantly. “Could you-“

“I am quite positive you will be fine.” Tom replies sternly, getting ready to leave.

It’s not that you were expecting him to stay the night, though you couldn’t help but feel disappointed he was leaving so soon. Your eyes follow his tracks, and when he then stands before you to hand you your clothes and a towel, you take the opportunity.

“Would you stay if I wanted you to?” You ask, still hopeful, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head. “No.”

And so Tom takes out his wand, hesitating for a moment before he turns to face you for one last time.

“Happy Christmas.”

Just like that, he is gone again.

And the necklace? The most beautiful you have ever worn.

tagging for pt 2: @theacreativity @sirenseaborne @tomriddleswhcre

[earthlyangelbby]

Cupid's Curveball

Chapter 1: The Silas Situation

1.7k words

Sfw All Chapters Next Chapter:2

Summary: A normal hangout takes a turn when you confess you've never had a Valentine and your lack of a date to the Cupid's Ball. Which isn't really Eddie’s scene, but he's very interested in who exactly you want to go with. He gets his answer and while suspicious he decides to help you get the date.

Authors Note: This is set 1986 if Eddie just got to be a normal senior. He's 19, and you're 18 both seniors.

February 7th 1986

Here you were, sitting crisscross applesauce on Eddie’s bedroom floor. The room was dim, with a warm haze hanging in the air, the faint smell of incense mixing with something sharper,  you thought it was the lingering trace of Eddie’s cologne. His walls were covered in band posters and random doodles he’d tacked up, each one so him it made your chest ache. But despite the familiar comfort of the room, you weren’t feeling your typical light and giggly self.

You glanced up at Eddie, lounging on his bed like he didn’t have a care in the world. His curls framed his face, and for a second, you thought about how good his jawline looked from this angle.

“Is this new or something I’ve had before?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

Eddie’s lips trilled like a horse's, and his dark eyes shifted up as if searching the ceiling for an answer. “Uhhh, yeah, this is the same stuff I picked up from Rick like two weeks ago.” He glanced down at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why? Are you not feeling it?”

You shook your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, I’m definitely feeling it.”

He didn’t look convinced. His lips pressed into a line before he asked, “What’s up then? You’re not giggly like you usually are.”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. It felt stupid to say out loud, but the weight of the thought sat heavy on your chest. Finally, you let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. I just kinda feel sad... It’s something stupid.”

Eddie’s expression softened, his usual cocky smirk replaced by genuine concern. He scooched closer, leaning down toward you on the floor. His big, brown eyes met yours, and for a moment, your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat. You weren’t sure if it was the haze or just him, but you felt... safe.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “You can tell me.”

You leaned back on your hands, feeling the soft surface of the carpet against your palms. Throwing your head back, you shut your eyes, hoping the words would sound less ridiculous when you said them aloud. “I’m bummed because I’ve never had a valentine, and I really want one. But that kind of thing is stupid, right? Corporate Hallmark crap, blah blah blah. And no one’s asked me to the Cupid’s Ball yet.” The words spilled out in a rush, followed by a sigh of relief.

Eddie straightened, his eyebrows lifting. He grabbed your shoulders gently, forcing you to sit up and meet his gaze. His touch was firm, but not overbearing, and you couldn’t ignore the warmth of his hands through the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Hey,” he said, his tone low but earnest. “Just because I think it’s all corporate crap doesn’t mean you have to. I can still listen when you talk about stuff. If it means something to you, it means something. Okay?”

He’s saying stuff like, "If it means something to you, it means something." Ugh, stop being so understanding, Eddie! It’s bad enough that I can’t stop thinking about how your hands felt, and now you’re making me think about… other things. Like what it would be like to actually go to that dance with you. Would you spin me around or just sit in a corner, cracking jokes to make me laugh? Ugh, stop it. He doesn’t see me like that. Right? 

You nodded, a little embarrassed now because the way his hands lingered made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t fully understand—or maybe didn’t want to admit.

Eddie let go and sat crisscross in front of you, leaning back against his bed. His movements were casual, but you thought you caught the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a second before speaking. “Just ask someone to the Cupid’s Ball or whatever.”

“I can’t,” you huffed out, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Why not?” His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head in confusion.

You pouted, avoiding his gaze. “The guy is supposed to ask.”

Eddie frowned, and a silence fell between you. He was quiet for a beat too long, and you wondered what was going through his mind. Was he going to say something sarcastic? Was he judging you? Why did she have to look so cute? That little furrow in her brow makes me want to reach out and smooth them away. Is this what liking someone feels like? It’s not like I’ve never noticed her before. I definitely have. But right now she’s sitting there on my floor in my room, and her voice is so soft it’s messing with my head. I could offer to take her to the dance... No, that’s stupid. If she wanted me to, she wouldn’t be upset about it in the first place.

Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little. “Okay, so what if we come up with a plan?”

You frowned, confused. “A plan for what?”

“For you to ask this guy to the dance.” He shrugged casually, trying to ignore the pang in his chest as he said it. “I mean, screw tradition. If you want to go with him, just ask him.”

You bit your lip, unsure. “I don’t know, Eddie. What if he says no?”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then he’s an idiot, and we’ll find someone else to go with you. But seriously, I’ll help you figure out how to ask. It doesn’t have to be some big deal.”

Why does he have to be so sweet? The way he’s leaning in and actually trying to help makes my heart flutter, and I don’t know how to stop it. Is he really just being a good friend, or is this something more? I wish I knew, but I can’t bring myself to ask.

“Okay,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks warm. “What do we do first?”

Eddie grinned, his confidence returning. “First, we figure out what this guy likes. Then we make it impossible for him to say no.

Why does this feel like a punch to the gut? She’s sitting here talking about some guy she likes, and all I can think about is how much I wish it was me. Maybe it’s stupid, but I need to know who it is—it’s like I can’t help myself.  

Eddie tilted his head, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Alright, before we-, you gotta tell me…. Who is this guy, anyway?”  

Panic overtook your body and the only name you could think of was Edward Silas Munson. On repeat in your stupid lovesick brain. “Uh, his name is Silas.” 

Silas? Who the hell is Silas? And why does that name sound familiar? Wait—hold on. That’s my middle name. Is she messing with me?

Eddie blinked, his smirk faltering slightly as he processed what you said. “Silas?” he repeated, tilting his head like he was trying to put the pieces together. “So, uh… where’d you meet this guy?”

 Crap, why did I say that? His middle name was the first thing that came to mind, and now I have to sell this. Keep it together!

“At my volunteer thing,” you said quickly, smoothing your hands over your jeans. “You know, the animal shelter I go to on Sundays? He’s there sometimes, helping out.”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, suspicion flickering in his dark eyes. “Oh, yeah? A guy named Silas, who works with animals? That’s… cool. What else is he into?”

 Why is he asking so many questions? Does he think I’m lying? Oh God, what if he figures it out?

“Um, well… he plays guitar. And he’s into metal,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Really cool guy. Super chill.”

A guy named Silas who plays guitar, loves metal, and works at an animal shelter? That sounds an awful lot like… me. Is she messing with me, or is this some kind of hint? Either way, it’s messing with my head. Maybe not everything is about you Munson. 

Eddie leaned back, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable. “Sounds like a solid dude,” he said, though his voice was quieter than usual. “You want me to help you figure out how to ask him to the dance?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze. “That would be… nice.”

Eddie gave a small nod, though his mind raced. “Alright, let’s figure this out,” he said, his tone low and a little hesitant. “We’ll make sure Silas can’t say no.”

Your heart thudded out of your chest. “How are we gonna do that?” 

Eddie looked up at you, “Give me tonight to think about it. Tomorrow we start, sweetheart.”

The sound of the clock ticking on Eddie’s wall caught your attention, and you glanced at the time. Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh, crap,” you murmured, pushing yourself up off the floor. “It’s almost 11. curfew.”

Eddie stood, stretching lazily before grabbing his keys from the dresser. “Alright, I’ll get you home, princess,” he said with a grin, motioning for you to follow him.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the van filling the space. Eddie tapped his fingers on the wheel, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “So,” he said casually, breaking the silence, “this Silas guy… he better not flake on you for that dance.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Why do you keep bringing him up?”

Eddie smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “Just saying. A girl like you deserves someone who’ll show up, make it a good time, you know? And if he doesn’t, well… I might have to have a word with him.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a lopsided grin, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. “But you still hang out with me. So what does that say about you?”

The warmth in his tone made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t fully understand. As he pulled up in front of your house, you lingered for a moment, fingers brushing the strap of your bag. “Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, his voice gentle but teasing, as though he didn’t want the moment to end either. “See you tomorrow. Rest up. Big plans to make.”

You nodded, stepping out into the cool night air with a heart that felt heavier and lighter all at once.

Thanks for reading :)

I hope you kicked your feet and twirled your hair while reading this chapter

I have a lot of ideas for this series! Let me know what you think

[bayeprose]

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3

(warning: contains non-explicit sexual content) ‧˚⭒

Breathlessly, he asks, “... Annabeth, are we—?” “Percy, I don’t know, just kiss me more—” And she tangles her hand throughout his hair and urges him back against her lips. Percy groans as they make contact, his eyes falling shut once more. She’s still touching his leg, she’s squeezing it now and he’s dizzy with desire. He never knew what a turn-on it could be to have a girl grip his thigh, to feel her fingers curled into his hair as she kisses him forcefully—but gods, it’s driving him crazy. Is he allowed to just surrender to this feeling? Annabeth did give him an answer. And he is nothing if not inclined to oblige her request. Mindlessly, his hand reaches for her waist. He isn’t thinking at all—he just wants more of Annabeth. And he caresses her with that adventurous hand—slowly, shakily, over the fabric of her shirt, and then he leans even further into the kiss. With his other hand he grasps her jaw, holding her steady against his lips as they part further and entrap her own in the push of his greedy kiss. Moaning softly, she grips his thigh tighter. In this moment, Percy has never felt more that Annabeth is his and that he belongs to her. Every simmering slip of impassioned tongue and lustful sigh into each other’s mouths empowers the truth that they belong together. His head is swimming from the thrill of touch—it feels so, so good. Her tongue has this way of pressing against his that feels so right, so sensual, so... adult, and he shudders in relief when she does it again. But he’s keeping up, too—smoothing his tongue along her bottom lip, clutching her shirt tightly when she hums in return because he’s eager to give her everything she wants tenfold. Faster, deeper, their tongues trade lusts in frantic glissandos and her airy moans resound in his ears— “Mmph, Percy—” “—Annabeth,” he murmurs urgently, sparing only a second to breathe between kisses before diving back for more. He increasingly depends on his limited instincts, obeying every impulse that commands his body. Wordlessly, their position changes; Annabeth slowly leans back onto the bed and Percy then falls along with her. In hovering over her like this, he’s reminded of their earliest days at Camp Half-Blood sparring together. He still remembers the very first time that he got the best of her, when he’d swung his sword with too much force and knocked her clean onto her back. Percy had rushed to the ground so as to straddle her there, his irreverent sword pointed at her bronze breastplate. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t get back up. At the time, he’d felt nothing more than childish pride in finally overcoming the acclaimed Annabeth Chase (and a subsequent lick of fear that she might kill him in his sleep). Only now does he recognize the animal excitement of being on top of a girl like this—on a bed, no less. Her legs spread wider until they take hold of his hips, a touch which summons one tantalizing thought: ‘She wants me here. Between her thighs.’ He didn’t often risk such indulgent thoughts, because he didn’t want to be alone in experiencing them. If Annabeth had ever wanted him that way, she either hid it too well, or he’d been too dense to grasp any number of her hints. Both options seemed equally likely, lending no outlet for his indecent desires. So the odes of lust that he’d sung for her in past were always quickly silenced through sheer willpower. He never let them reach their final note, he didn’t let dirty thoughts become full, lecherous fantasies. Not after a particularly brutal incident some years ago, a summer evening at camp by the lake boardwalk. She wore a tank top that her chest had outgrown the summer before, because a Stoll prank gone wrong had burned most of her clothes. Percy’s gaze had lingered for seconds too long, and then the image of her chest wouldn’t leave his mind. It distracted him as he tried to sleep, flashed across his eyelids each time they closed. He hadn’t stood a chance against his urges that night, succumbing to them twice over in an empty Cabin Three...

Summary: In Frank's eyes, Percy and Annabeth are the perfect demigod couple. They're grown, they're engaged, and they've overcome so much together. Feeling helpless in escalating his own relationship to their coveted adult achievements, he seeks out Percy's help. Unbeknownst to Frank, Percy and Annabeth are grappling with some intimacy struggles of their own.

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

[sayornispress]

Two author copies delivered! Both for @bropunzeling (AO3 here).

More photos and info under the cut!

I actually did my copies of these a while ago--both in February, one in 2024 and the other in 2023. collide the spaces that divide us was one of my earliest attempts at social media formatting, and one of the last books I ever made with my inkjet printer. I did end up fixing a few things on that one's typeset, but it's nearly identical to my first copy. You may also notice in the photos that I chopped off a bit too much off the edge--I didn't yet know how to use my guillotine, and in all the time that's passed since then, it's become defunct (sharp enough to cut off a hand, but not sharp enough to cut through a stack of paper lol)

It's neat to see such a clear example of how much I've improved as a bookbinder in a year and a half--my copy on the left, author's on the right:

Also, a comparison of color ink (left) vs color laser (right):

Like this, it's easy to see how much more vibrant color toner is than ink. Ink works much better for complex images, but since I don't print a lot of photos, but do make a lot of social media typesets, this works much much better for my purposes.

Soon after that, I bought a black-only laser printer and had a whole new set of challenges. It was in this era of printing that I made only fools rush in. It has one of my most complex title pages to date, as they're not really my forte.

Below are my copy, the title page, and an example of how I did texts in this particular typeset.

My copy has a cloth spine and a different cloth as the cover, with a strip from the endpapers to hide my sins act as a bridge between them. This is one of the binds from last Binderary that I'm most proud of.

The title page is in several different pieces--sort of jigsaw-puzzled together from vectors, Google Drawings, and a few different fonts.

Black-toner-only printing meant adjusting how I did social media formatting, and this is one of my favorite ways I solved that problem. I like the simple, almost minimalist formatting that sets the texts apart but doesn't steal the show.

I'd been meaning to offer author copies for these books for as long as I'd had them, but it's hard to understate how little I wanted to use my inkjet once I got a laser XD It's both slower and more expensive to use an inkjet, so as soon as I got my color laser printer set up, I sent the DM!

I organize my handbound fics by ship--that is, every ship has a set spine cloth and title color--so one of my favorite things about author copies is that I get to be a little more creative about covers!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

🖤 dividers for writers w/ a bone to pick 🖤

Get it? Bone? Skeleton? Halloween...anyway, the season of the witch is upon us and your scary godmother is stopping by to drop off some skeleton (& other spooky themed) dividers for your horror/supernatural adventures

[quotelr]

It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.

Audre Lorde

[wifewilson]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 about

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

kensy, 23, they/she/he, fanfic writer

deadpool & wolverine, IT, south park, tv glow

literate roleplayer. weed enjoyer. loves to talk about dogs. introverted extrovert. smut enjoyer. likes to objectify men. optimistic nihilist. sweet treat enjoyer. puts deadpool in various predicaments. puts wolverine in even worse predicaments

my ao3

[alternative-morenita]

1.0 - Dear Friend Across the River

ACT I | DEAR FRIEND ACROSS THE RIVER contents: prologue | 1.1 | 1.1.5 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 |

DEAR FRIEND ACROSS THE RIVER

"No!" Hyde's voice calls, drowned by the explosive release of the enforcer's bullet.

A plume of red with a dramatic yellow flashes before her wide, gold eyes that watch the pointed projectile penetrate her mother's chest. The white haired woman recoils, teeth gritting with pain before lowering her eyes at the masked officer with a pointed glare. With an animalistic snarl, she squares her shoulders and launches for the officer.

In hand, the dark skinned woman carried a twin pair of circular red and silver tainted steel weapons. She tosses the one in her right hand, bending her shoulder inwards with the throw. The disc shaped weapon soars through the red smoke in an arch before returning its way back down, slicing across the enforcer's chest. Embedding itself into blood stained ground of the bridge, the blade shines with amongst the carnage.

Grabbing a back up from the holster attached to the back of her jacket, the weapon leaps into the air with a savage cry as she brandishes her blades. Stumbling back, the enforcer clumsily reloads his rifle, head switching from their weapon to the Zaunite rebel. As she descends, their gun releases the jammed bullet and replaces it with an active round, locking in place with a deadly click. Confidently firming their stance, the enforcer fires three rounds into the woman.

MY HANDS ARE COLD AND BARE

Hiding behind a tipped over wagon, encased with the fog filled with death and gun smoke, Hyde watches her mother's death in horror. Her small, calloused hands tighten around her green and gold chakrams as her braced teeth grinding against one another. Her clenched jaw tightens, forcing the cheap metal wires to twist as some loosen, cutting across her gums. 

In a blind rage, the young girl runs from under the wagon and its blanket of corpses. Her small feet quietly slap against the ground, pushing against the helmet clad head of another enforcer that struggled to their feet. Using the involuntary boost, Hyde spins counterclockwise and releases the disc from her right hand at her mother's murderer. At the last minute, the enforcer turns from the white haired woman's body.

Their shoulders lurch with surprise and in a last desperate attempt tries to shoot the weapon away. Failing, they watch as the bullet bounces off the steel before fleeing. With their back turned, their fear of death grows as the blade seems to have fallen quicker than before. Their gloved hand reaches out to a body of nothingness just as the blade tears through their neck. 

DEAR FRIEND ACROSS THE RIVER

Landing on her feet, Hyde falls victim to her panic as her lungs fail to regulate her breathing. Between the smoke that wrapped itself around her throat and the bile that threatened to rise, the pre-teen withers in pain as she drops to her knees. Using her hands to catch herself, her bottom lip quivers as her gold eyes drown against the wave of tears that break from its hold.

Her small yet strong arms wrap around her dead mother's shoulders, gently turning the limp woman onto her back. Tentatively, her small digits brush across her mother's soft face that now carried a wrinkled yet peaceful expression -- a stark difference to the youthful mask she'd uphold for her children and the war-torn glare she had worn just moments before her death. 

I'LL TAKE WHAT YOU CAN SPARE

Hyde lays her forehead against her mother's, silently weeping. Glimpses of her brother's face flashes in her mind. The boy was only 6, he was barely a year old when their father passed thanks to the Grey and now Piltover has taken their mother. Hyde can't be a parent, she's fucking 13. She doesn't know how to play the role of mommy and daddy, she only knows how to be her.

Ahead of her, more enforcers make their way closer to the Hyde and her mother when a warm presence appears behind her. She turns, eyes widening as Vander looks down at them with wet eyes. Replacing his metal gauntlets were two girls, clutching onto him in desperation as their small bodies quiver with quiet sobs. 

I ASK OF YOU A PENNY

His bushy eyebrows furrow, eyes glazed with desperation and silent pleas. Her lips twist until finally, her head falls, conceding to his words. Quickly, the young girl grabs her mother's chakrams and her own that had strayed beside the beheaded officer. With a shared nod, the two take their solemn walk of back to Zaun. 

MY FORTUNE IT WILL BE

[sprintingficcommentator]

I love System mission names in fics omg

[vg-k]

𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺̃𝗌 𝓬𝓸𝓶 𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐞̂ ᤣ९  @yrminji

[inklore]

— feel free to request more colors.

like or reblog if you use them please!

[fate-defiant]

You've inspired me so you gotta deal with these in your inbox now

There he is 💖💕💞 that motherfucker😙🥰🫤😻 what a tool!!! 💫💗💜🤝💓✨🫂☺️🌄

[earthlyangelbby]

Cupid's Curveball Chapter 5: Hold your peace

Word count 3.1k Sfw All Chapters Chapter 4 Chapter 6 (TBD)

Summary: After the kiss at Lover's Lake things between you and Eddie have felt a bit awkward. Especially since he has brought it up twice now and you shut him down both times. Its okay though! Because you have a plan of action. You just need the rest of the school day to think about exactly what you want to say. Everything is going to be okay. Right?

February 10th 1986 The morning air was cool, but the sun was already peeking through the clouds. There he was, leaning against the side of his van as you walked toward him. He was smoking, the faint curl of smoke rising in the air around him.

“Morning,” he greeted, his voice rougher than usual.

“You okay?” you asked, noticing the tired look in his eyes.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep much,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck to avoid meeting your gaze. “You heading to class?”

You nodded, studying his face. Something about him seemed off, but you decided not to press him. “I’ll see you at Hellfire. I’m tutoring for an hour after school. But I’ll be early like usual.”

“Mhm,” Eddie answered, offering you a tight-lipped smile before taking another drag from his cigarette. After a long pause, he added, “Guess I’m still a bit wired from Lover’s Lake.”

At the mention of it, your heart fluttered. You enjoyed last night, but you’d already made up your mind. You want to talk after school because if you don’t get the answer you want, you can just go home. Instead, you let your voice turn cool and detached. “I can’t be late for class. See you later.”

He hesitated, eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding, but you maintained your even tone. Deep in your chest, you were anxious to discuss it, to share how much it meant to you. Did he regret it? Did that kiss even mean anything to him? Was he just acting weird because he was trying to act like nothing happened?

“Right,” he murmured, a hint of disappointment flickering in his gaze. “Don’t be late then.”

You met his eyes briefly, the coolness in your reply a thin veil over your anxious excitement. “I won’t,” you said flatly then you turned and walked toward the double doors. You needed a few hours to think on what exactly you wanted to say anyway. 

The day dragged on. You found yourself distracted in every class, replaying Eddie’s distant demeanor over and over in your head. The knot in your stomach tightened with every passing hour.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him as it did to me. He hasn’t said anything. Did he even want me to stay?

During your free period, Diana had cornered you in the library.

“You look like a sad puppy sleepy puppy,” Diana said, shoving a soda across the table toward you. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Eddie,” you lowered your voice. “He’s been acting weird since…”Diana’s eyes narrowed. 

“Since what? Dress shopping? What happened after you dropped me off? Spill!”

You shook your head and whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Last night after we dropped you off, we kissed. Well, more than kissed. It was crazy Di, the kiss turned into making out. I ended up in his lap.” You leaned in really close. “His hands were under my shirt.” You leaned back, speaking normally. “Then a knock at the van door and the words ‘Police open up.’”

Diana’s eyes widened, her arms gripped the table. “No way! 1st and 2nd base. And the cops showed up. You’re a bad girl now.”

Your heart fluttered hearing her say that out loud. “No, not really. It was Gareth, Grant, and Jeff trying to scare Eddie.”

Diana sighed. “Ohhh. Well, it's still a bit bad. Kissing in a car with a boy at Lover’s Lake. What happened after?”

“I kinda clammed up and asked him to take me home after they all left. He wanted to talk about it, but I shut him down. Then this morning he seemed off, and I am worried he regrets it. I mean, he still doesn’t know Silas isn't real.”

Di gave you a look. It was her signature “you already know what to do” look.

“You’ve got to tell him the truth. The longer you drag this out, the worse it’s going to get.”

“I know,” you murmured, staring down at your blank homework sheet. “But what if he hates me for it?”

“He won’t hate you. He might be mad at first, but you’re his best friend. Just… rip the Band-Aid off.” Diana squeezed your arm.

“I hope you’re right,” you smiled at her. She always knew just what to say. You felt so lucky to have her.

Eddie was grappling with his own confusion. Ever since Lover’s Lake, you’d been distant. Just barely saying anything to him this morning, and then shutting him down. For the second time. He’d tried to bring it up, but you shut him down. It stung, not knowing how you felt. Is Silas still a contender in all this? Did the kiss mean anything to her? His brain looped all these questions over and over.

Did she like it? Was she just embarrassed by it? Maybe she only kissed me because she didn’t want to leave things awkward, and now she regrets it. I can’t shake the feeling she’s pulling away from me. Does she even want to talk?

Gareth approached, breaking Eddie’s spiral. Gareth with an apologetic grin. “Hey, man, about last night... If I’d known you were with someone, especially her, I wouldn’t have pulled that prank.”

Eddie waved it off, though his jaw tightened at the reminder. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, trying to sound casual.

Gareth wasn’t done. “Seriously, let me make it up to you. You’re going to the Cupid’s Ball, right? I can get my sister to give you a quick lesson. She’s a pro at all that dancing stuff.”

Eddie snorted. “Dude, I don’t need a lesson. I’m more of a rock-and-roll kind of guy.”

“Yeah, but slow dancing?” Gareth raised an eyebrow. “You want to impress her, don’t you?”

Eddie hesitated, picturing her in that dress from the mall, and finally relented. “Fine. But if she laughs at me, I’m blaming you.”

Just then, the 3rd lunch bell rang.

Gareth’s face perked up. “Finally! I’m starving.” He started walking and yelled at Eddie, “C’mon Munson!”

Eddie laughed at his friend’s enthusiasm for borderline prison food. “Nah, I think I’m gonna skip, but you go ahead.”

Eddie wanted to take a few minutes to himself and think about last night and what he wanted to say to you before Hellfire.

After school, before Hellfire, Eddie met Gareth’s sister, Julie, in the theater room. She was bubbly and quick to laugh, easing his awkwardness as she showed him a few simple steps. As they swayed to the music, Eddie couldn’t help but gush.

"You know, she’s… different," he said, smiling faintly.

"Different how?" Julie asked.

"Just… everything. She’s my best friend, but she’s more than that, too, you know?" Eddie chuckled, his voice softening. "She’s got this way of looking at me like I’m the only person in the room. And when she smiles? It’s like the sun came out just for me."

Julie grinned. "Sounds like you’re head over heels, Munson."

"Yeah," Eddie admitted, spinning her clumsily. "I think I am."

By the time your tutoring gig ended, you had decided to take Diana’s advice. Your stomach churned as you walked toward the theater room where Hellfire Club met. Eddie always got there early to set up, and you figured it was the best chance to catch him alone. You needed to talk to him. Today was too much. 

The hallway was quiet as you approached the heavy double doors. The faint music playing and Eddie’s unmistakable laugh filtering through the crack in the door. You pushed it open just enough to peek inside and froze.

Eddie was in the center of the room, holding a girl by the waist as they swayed to the beat of a song playing from the cassette player. You didn’t recognize the girl, but the way Eddie’s head tipped back with laughter and the ease with which he held her felt like a punch to the gut. 

For a moment, you were unable to move. Your chest tightened, and the feeling in your legs felt like they might give out. Eddie spun the girl around playfully, his grin as wide as you’d ever seen it. A grin you thought was usually just for you. 

The heavy door creaked slightly as you pulled it shut again, you bit down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound. Your heart pounded out of your chest. You turned and walked quickly back down the hallway, tears threatening to spill over. By the time you got to the parking lot, you were practically running home. 

Diana’s words echoed in your head: The longer you drag this out, the worse it’s going to get. But now it felt too late. The kiss really hadn’t meant anything to him. You were just friends. Or worse Eddie didn’t even think about you like that at all and it was just the weed making him kiss you. Both times you kissed you had smoked. For you it was that it made your anxiety loosen up. But maybe for him he just felt like kissing and you were there. The thought ate you up inside. Maybe Eddie was being so weird because he didn’t want to tell you the truth. He just doesn’t like you like that. 

Eddie couldn’t help but notice your absence from Hellfire. Hell he even saved you a seat next to him. He hoped he would be able to talk to you after about what happened at lovers lake. It was all he could think about as he sat through the game, trying and failing to focus. He kept replaying the kiss in his mind, the way it had felt so right, so natural, like it was what you both been waiting for. But now, with you not there, with the cold distance between you, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Was it the prank? Was it his fault for not handling things better? He kept wondering if you regretted what happened, if maybe it had been a mistake to you. Maybe you were just embarrassed, or worse, maybe you didn’t want him the way he wanted you. 

It was a painful thought, but one he couldn’t escape. He just couldn’t understand why you’d shut him out, why you weren’t talking to him like you used to. 

Was this it? Was this the end of whatever the two fo you had been? 

The uncertainty gnawed at him, and the thought of losing you, of whatever connection you two had, terrified him more than anything else.

You locked yourself in your room, pulling the sheets tight around you as you replayed the kiss over and over in your mind. The heat of it, the softness of his lips against yours, followed by the awkward tension that lingered afterward. And then his smile. His laugh. The way he danced with that girl, so carefree, so comfortable. What the hell were you thinking? Eddie was just your friend nothing more. Even if, deep down, you wanted him to be. You tried to remind yourself of that, but the thought twisted inside you. Was it all just a moment of convenience? Were you so easy, so willing to kiss him, to give him more if he asked? Now everyone knew and had their own idea of what happened. The self-loathing clawed at you, choking you with the realization that maybe you’d never really had a chance. You had lost him. And the thought of it hit harder than you could’ve imagined. The phone rang, cutting through the storm of your thoughts. It was Diana’s voice on the other end of the line. “Hey, what’s up? How did the talk with Eddie go?”

Your voice cracked as you tried to answer. “We—I didn’t talk to him, Di,” you said, the weight of it breaking you. Tears started to fall before you could stop them.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just talk to him tomorrow,” Diana said gently, trying to soothe you.

But you couldn’t hold it in. “No, Di. I saw him. I saw him dancing and laughing with some girl in the theater. I left and went home.” Your voice cracking, “God Di The kiss… it didn’t mean anything to him. I know it. I’m such an idiot,” you were now full of blubbering.

Her tone shifted, turning to pure disbelief. “Oh. My. God. He has to be the king of jackasses to do something like that! He can’t just put his hands all over my best friend and then go canoodle with some bimbo the very next day. Who the hell was it?”

Her words made you laugh through your tears, a bitter chuckle. “I don’t knowowow” you boohooed, and then in the smallest voice said, “Di, I really thought he liked me.”

Her tone softened, full of understanding. “Oh sweet girl, I was sure he did too. Hell, I still think he might. But boys? They’re stupid. They don’t get it. You don’t need to worry about him not caring. He probably has no clue what he wants.”

For a second, her words gave you a small glimmer of hope. Hearing her confirm that maybe, just maybe, Eddie didn’t hate you made the tension in your chest ease a bit. “I’m so mad at him. And I’m so scared. He doesn’t know Silas isn’t real. Do you think he’s thinking badly of me? Like, because I kissed him while I was still supposed to be all into Silas? Do you think Eddie hates me? What if I was just there ya know like a makeout out of convenience? What if he doesn’t even like me?”

“Slow down. Listen, I don't think he hates you, not at all. Now for the kiss of convenience, that's not impossible. BUT after having spent the entire day with the two of you before your lover’s lake rendezvous, Eddie did seem super into you. I don't think he could just turn that on and off. But I will say one thing for sure, babe, you have to talk to him about it. You can’t avoid it. And it needs to be in person, so you can see all his body language and get the truth, the full picture.”

Your heart skipped at the idea of confronting him, but you knew it had to happen.

“I know you’re right Di.” you sniffled As the conversation lingered, Diana’s voice softened again. “You’ve got this, okay? You’re stronger than you know. Just talk to him, and whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes, “Thanks, Di. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Right back at you,” she said warmly. “I love you, girl.”

You smiled through your tears, the familiar comfort of Diana’s voice wrapping around you like a blanket. “I love you too. Thanks for being here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” and you hung the phone up. You laid looking at the ceiling and the thought of Eddie with that girl reignited some anger in you. You were definitely sad. But also pissed off. Who was he to- 

The phone rang again, breaking through the knot of thoughts tangled in your mind. You hesitated before picking it up, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice was hesitant, as if searching for something he couldn’t quite find. “You weren’t at Hellfire. Are you okay?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to say so much, but the words were all wrong. “Yeah, just tired,” you replied quickly, your voice a bit hoarse for crying.

Eddie’s pause stretched a little too long. “You sure? You don’t sound okay.” Why isn’t she talking to me like usual? Eddie thought, his stomach sinking. She sounds... off. Something’s wrong. I don’t know why, but I feel like it’s me.

You could hear the concern in his voice, and it felt like a weight pressing down on you. “I’m fine,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut, the lie tasting bitter in your mouth. “Gonna try and get some sleep now Eddie.” the way you said his name coming off a bit more mean than you intended. Why does she sound so distant? Did I screw something up? Eddie’s mind raced. He couldn’t get the image of you walking away from him that morning out of his head. It had been a small thing, a moment that seemed insignificant, but it had stuck with him. You hadn’t been yourself since the kiss.

“Okay... well goodnight, sweetheart,” the confusion in his voice was clear. His confusion left an ache in your chest. 

He thinks he can do whatever he wants? He thinks he can just act like dancing with another girl after being all over you the night before is totally normal? Hell no. You thought.

Your finger hovered over the receiver, and without thinking, your hand moved on its own. You slammed the phone down onto its base with a sharp, decisive click.

The line went dead, and the feeling of finality hit you all at once. The weight of your decision hung in the air, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not yet. 

On the other end, Eddie laid there, looking over at his Garfield phone in confusion. The bright orange plastic seems absurdly out of place in the moment. He blinked, his throat tightening as he tried to make sense of the abrupt end to the conversation.

“Hello?” he said aloud, his voice unsure, but there was only silence followed by the trill of the dial tone rang through.

He looked at the phone, his chest tightening as the reality settled in. You’d hung up on him.

His stomach dropped. He didn’t understand what happened? Why did you shut him out like that? Had he said something wrong? He felt that familiar unease creeping up his spine, but it was worse now, because this time it wasn’t just the usual weirdness of his feelings. This time, it felt like he had messed something up, and there was no way of taking it back.

Eddie let out a slow breath, his finger absently tracing the edge of the phone’s receiver, the reality of the situation making his thoughts spin.

Something’s wrong. She’s shutting me out, and I don’t know why. The thought gnawed at him, each unanswered question turning in his mind like a broken record. I thought we were fine. We shared something, didn’t we? Why is she pulling away now? The confusion was like a storm cloud hanging over him. Did she regret it? 

Thanks for reading let me know for Taglist! I promise to release the next chapter this week!!!!!

Taglist: @emxxblog @punkrockmlchael @ali-r3n @g3n3zshack @exploding-bonbon @sheneedsrocknroll92 @punkrockmlchael @api0calisse @callmytherapistplease-blog @arabellagreenleaf @hellmastereddie @am0iur @taniamunson 

[bayeprose]

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3

(warning: contains suggestive text + mentions of kissing) ‧˚⭒

Frank eventually sputtered, “I’m... I’m just gonna try to explain what happened, and you can just tell me to shut up when it’s TMI, okay?” “Okay.” Percy said. He lowered his voice even more. Shadows from the gray sky made it seem like he was about to tell a ghost story. “Last night, things with Hazel got kind of... weird...” “Weird?” “Yeah... weird.” “How weird?” “We... we were kissing.” “Oh.” Percy blinked. That’s not where he thought this was going. “Okay. Uh... do you guys not usually do that, or—” “No, no, we’ve kissed before. But this time, we really kissed. A lot. Like, we were making out. And it was great.” Out of respect, Percy tried not to visibly grimace. No offense to either of them, but Hazel was like a little sister to him, and it felt really strange to hear Frank talk of her like that. It just wasn't something that he wished to visualize. “Okay,” he said calmly. Really. He was trying his best to be calm. “And?” “Well...” Frank twiddled his thumbs. “We’ve never done that before. And it got really intense, and I... I kind of reacted to it too much.” Now, here was some telling information, finally. Percy felt like he was starting to understand what his friend was getting at. But... their first time making out? Last night? Really? Percy’s free time was quite limited, and he spent approximately zero seconds of his days thinking about what other people in his circle did behind closed doors. He’s a--‘That’s none of my business.’--type of guy, to the extent that Annabeth was often irritated by his lack of interest in demigod drama. She’d come to him with fresh, riveting gossip like, “Did you hear? Sherman and Miranda got caught in the Big House together.” and he’d have little more to say than, “I forgot they were dating.”

Like... sure, he figured that the couples he knew of were sleeping together. He could even surmise that the singles he knew of might be sleeping together. But... so what? They’re adults, now; it’s not really all that scandalous or interesting, and in fact, people not sleeping together seemed a lot more noteworthy than the alternative. So to hear that Frank and Hazel had never even made out before... not only was it noteworthy, considering how long they’ve been together, but it was so surprising that he needed to know more in spite of his discomfort with the sordid subject matter. Is this why people like gossip? “... Wait,” Percy started nervously. “What do you mean you ‘reacted too much’?” Frank blushed, which made Percy even more nervous. “Um... Hazel was, well, we were on the couch, and we just finished a movie, and we were just really close, and I kind of— “Oh gods, Frank, you didn’t... do that, did you?”

Summary: In Frank's eyes, Percy and Annabeth are the perfect demigod couple. They're grown, they're engaged, and they've overcome so much together. Feeling helpless in escalating his own relationship to their coveted adult achievements, he seeks out Percy's help. Unbeknownst to Frank, Percy and Annabeth are grappling with some intimacy struggles of their own.

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

[chilschuck]

lilia 🌱 ⛤ she + her. i write and draw what i’m currently fixated on!

currently really into dunmeshi and chilchuck. twenty-four y/o. ꒱

feel free to send me fic or writing requests when they’re open, or even musings and rambles always!! i love writing hcs and x reader stuffs. sfw only for right now!

my requests are open!!

— masterlist. 🪴 my ao3!

꒰ dni if proship or other dni criteria !!! ꒱