#he put fruit in the cabin after you stayed there

[femboyishcharm]

thought it was Very Interesting that someone said laceaga wasn't sweet in the slightest when u romance him

[scwheeler]

— how to get a girl’s attention

luke castellan x fem!daughter of demeter!reader

warnings: near-drowning experience…

summary: as the daughter of demeter, you’re the first person that everyone turns to when injuries need to be tended too, questions need to be asked, and any type of advice is required, however what’s going to happen when you’re the one in need?

a/n: this one’s quite lengthy guys! i really just got derailed like ten times and love adding details and the ending is kind of basic but whatever; don’t mind me making up random camper names btw lol 👼👼

waking up to the sound of constant bickering was just a normal tuesday morning as your younger half-siblings were already at each other’s throats about some stupid thing. yesterday it was borrowing boots and the day before it was who had to take the trash out.

you groaned, wishing that you could still sleep in peace and quiet but your cabin clearly suggested otherwise. so you gradually got up and put on your little slippers, approaching the main fighters who continued to argue with each other.

“hey hey hey, what’s going on now.” you had to physically get between the two children, separating them with your arms.

“he slipped paint all over my skirt and now it’s ruined!” the young girl cried, holding up her stained skirt to prove it. you took the clothing in your hands and knelt down to face her.

“why don’t i go to the river later today and try to get the stain out myself. it seems washable to me, what do you think?”

with a slight frown, she nodded her head to comply. you were relieved to say the least before turning to the boy, “how about you apologize and come with me to the river after breakfast?”

the boy stayed silent with his arms crossed, trying to avoid your insisting stare. but intimidated enough, he looked to the floor and whispered a small “fine, i’m sorry��� with a glare.

you smiled as the situation was deescalated and told the rest of the kids surrounding the pair to hurry and make their beds in order to head to breakfast.

holding hands with the now puffy-faced girl, you tried to tell her about all the fun activities she could do today to forget about the unfortunate morning incident.

before reaching mess hall, the child already had a a bright smile just thinking about the bracelet making and embroidery you promised for the later evening. pleased with your peace-making skills, you sat with the rest of your campers and half-siblings that you were in charge of.

as the eldest sibling and one of the camp counselors, you took on the responsibility of looking after the young ones and caring for almost everyone at camp.

thus, when most of the camp half-blood children had troubles or dilemmas of any sort, they would disregard their own counselors and go straight to you. your kindhearted, yet sociable personality rooted from your mother: demeter.

you were often found laying around in the fruit fields or by the river listening to the water flow through the ground and hit the rocks. like your mother, nature was where you felt at peace, especially with the lack of quiet in your own cabin.

but you still loved your fellow campers and half-siblings, except for one boy who would not leave you alone.

luke castellan.

he liked to push your buttons and see how far he could take you until you’d explode. of course, you always kept your calm until either you just left the conversation or it would be interrupted by a camper in need who was like a knight in shining armor.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like the guy. you liked everyone at camp, including mr. d for gods sake! but something about luke was different. you occasionally saw him with his campers or his friends, he would joke around but never act like he does with you.

when you least expect it, he sneaks up behind you and gets close enough to whisper something in your ear. it could be just a random comment or sentence started but in an alluring voice as if you were friends or even more.

he knows what he’s doing. the moment he finishes, you flinch and get flustered, cheeks heating up and instantly standing up to avoid making eye contact. as you walk away, luke only watches and smiles to himself.

he knows how much power he holds over you, as with just a few words he can make you nervous.

“okay so once everyone’s done, we’ll first go to the archery range and you’ll stay there with counselor clarisse while damien and i go to the river to get that nasty stain out.” you explained and first looked at the boy who begrudgingly agreed to helping you earlier and then winked at the little girl you promised to help.

“counselor clarisse…!” one of the boys exclaimed.

“oh no she’s the mean one!” “yeah, she’s a bully!” your campers all started to agree and mutter remarks about their fear in staying with clarisse.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at their scared little faces, “clarisse? oh gods no! clarisse is not scary, she loves you guys and she’ll take good care of you.”

the children stared at you in disbelief while chowing down their eggs and bacon. “why can’t we just come with you to the river?!” one of the girls begged and began to pout alongside the other ten kids beside her.

you sighed and pursed your lips into a thin line, trying to come up with a compromise but you couldn’t.

“please it’s only for a couple of hours and then i’ll be back for the rock wall and some capture the flag!” you persuaded, trying to lighten up the mood.

but the kids still looked dissatisfied, now poking their breakfast around with their utensils in objection.

“well—” before you could plead another case why clarisse is a perfectly reasonable and responsible counselor and guardian, you were cut off by the one and only.

“aw don’t worry guys, you should listen to your counselor. plus i’ll be there too so if counselor clarisse gets even just a little too scary, you can come and hang with awesome counselor luke!” a voice announced from behind you.

you nearly choked on your food, startled in the surprise voice cutting you off. but the campers were overjoyed to see their second favorite counselor appear. there were an overwhelming amount of comments from the once so silent children, mostly regarding “luke!” and “yay!”

you whipped your head around to face the boy, standing right behind you with nothing but a smug grin on his face. then he leaned in just as he always does and whispered a quick, “you’re welcome” and turned to leave just as fast as he came.

“can we please hang out with counselor luke instead of clarisse?!” all the campers plead with their hands put together and lower lip puckered. left with no other choice by that damn castellan again, you inhaled deeply and slightly nodded which was shortly followed by an array of cheers and excitement.

after dropping off all of the campers in the hands of luke, you put a hand on damien’s back and led him to the river. but before leaving, you had to make sure luke would actually clock in as a responsible counselor.

“so i can count on you to keep them safe for the next couple of hours?”

“wow you sound like you doubt me!” luke said and took a step back with his hands up in fake surrender.

“enough with the games, castellan. are you going to make sure they don’t kill each other and stay unharmed until i return?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment.

luke tried to hold back his smile after you called him by his last name. most of the time, his sparring partners or other counselors would use his last name rather his first. however, when the way you let the ‘n’ slightly my drag after saying it sent chills throughout his entire body.

to hide his delight, he lightly scoffed and crossed his arms at your hesitation. “i assure you that i will protect them with my life. i mean i am the best swordsman at camp,” he added as the corners of his lips just couldn’t help themselves to lift a little.

you rolled your eyes at his self-confidence and how he kept complimenting himself. luke only did it to impress you though, something that hasn’t been very successful.

“okay well alissa has a nut allergy, georgie has a bee allergy, and please keep thomas and will away from the poison ivy. i do not want to spend another summer knee deep in tomato juice.”

luke could only watch and admire as you kept expressing your deep concern for all the kids. he loved how much you cared. but a few more seconds and you would be driving yourself crazy over all the possibilities of something going wrong.

that’s when luke stepped in and softly grabbed your right arm.

“hey, it’s fine. go do whatever you have to do and i’ll come running down to the river if anything goes wrong but i doubt it, i’m pretty responsible y’know.” he reassured and stared straight into your eyes, indicating his sincerity. his smile wasn’t conceited or to drive his ego but rather held a tender emotion.

you looked up into his hazel eyes and suddenly the worries stopped and your nerves were calmed, other than the ones beginning to stir in your stomach. but this was far from the regard about the kids.

this feeling was something else. something new.

“are we going to go already?” the young boy you almost forgot about, whined and rugged on your orange camp t-shirt.

snapping out of your trance and back to reality you answered, “o-oh yeah, i think counselor luke’s got it from here.”

with that you turned away from luke and immediately headed for the river alongside damien but the paint-stained skirt was farthest from your mind now. you tried to shake the new feelings and thoughts out of your body and replace them with your past ones of the kids.

until, “is that guy your boyfriend?”

you quickly looked down to the boy asking the question, with such seriousness in his eyes.

“counselor luke? gods no! i wouldn’t even call him a friend!” you answered swiftly, picking up your pace and hurrying damien in front of you.

“geez…i was just asking!”

as soon as you two got to the river, settling on a few rocks by the edge, you started rubbing the blue-stained skirt with the clear water. damien sat next to you, fiddling his thumbs and staring at the water’s constant movement.

“so are you going to tell me why you did this or not?” you began, keeping your eyes on the skirt.

“i just wanted to.”

“damien.” you urged and this time, you stared directly at him with your eyebrows raised.

he sighed in defeat and gave up on lying to you.

“okay…well i just didn’t know how else to get clara’s attention,” the boy admitted and refused to look at you.

his response warned your heart and prompted your to smile to yourself.

“so you did this, just to get clara’s attention?”

you held up the now drenched skirt and demanded damien to look at you. for a moment, he did and nodded quickly before instantly going back to staring at the rock he was sitting on.

you stifled your laughter at how adorable the young boy you were with was being.

“damien…there are a lot of different and more efficient ways to get clara’s attention. may a suggest one that doesn’t destroy her belongings and ends up with her being angry?” you insisted and squeezed the excess water out of the skirt.

he looked up and nodded again but this time he continued.

“what should i do?”

“why don’t you make her a bracelet when we go back and sincerely apologize.” you suggested while laying out the wet skirt on the rock to dry.

he smiled at your suggestion as you went to sit closer by him. before speaking again, he pulled out a small daisy from his pant pocket and presented it to you.

your eyes focused on the blooming flower that lost a few of its petals due to being stuck in the boy’s pocket for a while now. but the remaining petals still standing were enough to maintain the flower’s beauty.

“when did you become such a gentlemen?” you nudged his shoulder and took the flower from his hands.

“oh, i’ve been giving him some lessons.”

alarmed, you turned to see the familiar face that had been surprising you all day.

“what are you doing here?! how about the kids—who’s watching them?!” you immediately stood up and marched towards the too calm figure standing amongst the trees. but he caught you with both arms, preventing you with ease.

“woah woah, take a breather, they’re with clarisse.” he said and stopped you before you ran back to the mess hall.

reading your expression, luke could tell you were not convinced nor pleased so he had to fix his answer.

“—and annabeth and chris.”

with that you stopped fighting against his grasp and stepped back, finally exhaling.

“you haven’t answered my first question.”

“oh! i just uh wanted to um come and tell you that they’re asking for damien back at camp. they were practically begging me to come over here and get him!”

you narrowed your eyes after he finished, easily indicating the lie.

“okay…you can go damien but remember what i said,” you smiled and patted his shoulder before sending him off back to camp.

the young boy ran off without a care and ready to make that bracelet with a formal apology. luke stood there, quite surprised that his lie that chris helped him think of in fact worked.

“soooo do you need help with whatever that is?” luke pointed at the skirt laid out on the rock.

“no.” you shortly responded and walked back to your rock but luke followed like a lost puppy.

“are you sure? i mean as head counselor for cabin 11, i can cook up a mean batch of laundry,” he insisted and trailed behind you.

unbeknownst to him, you rolled your eyes and cringed at his wording.

“your words don’t even make sense.”

caught in a lie, luke decided actions spoke louder than words and walked past you to the skirt. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he picked it up and crouched down near the water before dunking it back into the water.

shocked and a little annoyed, you hurriedly ran to him.

“what the hell are you doing?! i just washed that! i’m waiting for it to dry dumbass!”

“oh she curses!” he exclaimed, finally getting a real response from you.

you reached for it until luke raised it a little higher, just out of your reach. using his height as an advantage, he held out the clothing as far as he could and to the river.

fed up and exhausted, you went on your tippy-toes and lunged for the skirt. swiftly, luke pulled it close to his body just as you reached leading you to accidentally lean too far.

with a splash, you fell straight into the freezing cold water, unknown to how deep the river was. luke’s eyes widened, he thought you falling in would be funny but once you hadn’t resurfaced within a few seconds he became worried.

without a second thought, he dropped the skirt, pulled off his camp shirt, and dove into the biting waves. as soon as he saw your bright orange t-shirt in contrast to the clear water, he put his arm around your waist and swim towards the surface.

pulling you out to the rocks and laying your body on the ground, he waited for you to gain consciousness. luckily, you started to gasp for air and spit out gulps of water as you sat up.

luke sighed in relief at once. you wiped your face of water and blinked repeatedly until your sight returned to normal. then your eyes were fixated on something else, rather someone. his bare chest stood directly in front of your face, it wasn’t like you were trying to stare!

“i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do that and i’m really sorry.” luke recited.

“i-it’s okay.” you stuttered, the cold water chilling your body.

“here take off the wet one and take mine.”

luke grabbed his discarded camp shirt and handed it to you. if you weren’t on the verge of frostbite you would’ve refused, but without another word you agreed and luke turned to face the trees as you pulled the wet shirt over your head and put on luke’s.

“thanks. for saving me and the shirt.”

luke turned back to face you and smiled, “i mean i was the one to make you fall into the water in the first place, it’s the least i can do.”

“aren’t you cold?” you signaled to his bare chest.

“no, i’m okay don’t worry. but your jeans are still wet so let’s head back to camp.” he reassured and helped you get up.

you nodded and let him take the lead. with your wet shirt and skirt in one hand and the other grabbing onto luke’s arm, you two finally made it back to camp. before dropping you off at your cabin, you had to ask.

“why did you come to the river anyway?”

luke awkwardly put his hand on the back of his neck and looked away.

“oh. i just uh wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, ultimately facing you.

you stopped attending to your dripping pants and looked up at him. he had a genuine smile, now with both hands shoved into his pockets.

how was it that you had never noticed the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes? or the way the orange hues of the sunset highlighted the amber shade his eyes would turn?

“y’know, there are a lot of other ways to get my attention in the first place, that doesn’t involve us falling into freezing cold water.”

luke laughed at your comment which eased the awkward air.

“i had this almost exact same conversation with a little boy of about seven years, and gave him some valuable advice.”

“what was the advice..?” he carefully asked.

“to make her a bracelet and apologize, one of…you’ve already done profusely.” you raised your eyebrow to imply his previous attempt in apologizing nonstop.

“ah, a bracelet you say, okay got it,” luke said and nodded his head.

with that, he bid you a good day and you asked to meet him later at the campfire to return his shirt.

“alright you two sit there, i don’t want to see anymore fighting over the dinosaurs, you can sit here with him, and you three over there—” guiding the campers for the campfire that was just about to begin, you made your way to an empty bench.

smiling to yourself, you watched as your campers finally calmed down and enjoyed the music, giving up on fighting and arguing with one another. someone jumped over the bench and leaned back to sit right next to you, and you had a feeling who it may be.

“luke?”

“yes ma’am.” he replied with a tilt towards you and two fingers from his head.

the campfire lit up his face and highlighted his sharp features that you had somehow missed until this moment. his charming smile urging his dimples alongside his dark curls freshly washed with a new scented shampoo was enough to make you realize you were hooked. damn.

“oh i have a little something for you, give me your arm and close your eyes,” he spoke up and put his hand in his pocket.

raised eyebrow, you reluctantly closed your eyes and gave him your right arm. suddenly in fear of some bug or scary animal on your hand, you slowly retracted it back to yourself until he gently got a hold of it.

he pulled your arm towards him slightly and slipped something on around your wrist. waiting for his approval, you sat questioning what the mystery item could be.

“okay, open.” luke did a little ‘ta-da’ motion once you flickered your eyes open, adjusting to the dark yet orangish lit surrounding.

you looked down at the intricate, handsome bracelet that appeared on your wrist. it was similar to the camp necklaces but the beads were translucent with flowers imbedded into them. except for one bead that was painted a heavenly green, your favorite color.

astonished and at a loss for words, you observed the bracelet, moving around the small beads on the string.

“i’m sorry.”

snapping out of your trance, you instantly stared up at luke after his words in confusion.

“what?”

“you said earlier, ‘there are a lot of other ways to spend time with you that don’t involve us falling into freezing cold water, for starters make a bracelet and apologize.’” he repeated your words from back by your cabin. he remembered.

“so you made me a bracelet and apologize just like i said?” double-checking, you glanced once at the bracelet and back to the dashing boy who looked as if he had stars in his eyes, waiting for your reaction.

“not only for you, i also helped damien make one for that girl he’s got a crush on,” he continued and looked over to the little boy doing the exact same hold-out-your-arm-and-close-your-eyes trick on the girl sobbing about her stained skirt earlier.

she opened her eyes to a freshly washed skirt and matching bracelet, along with a smiling boy who was apologizing and waiting for her reaction. she leapt into his arms with a bunch of ‘thank yous.’ the boy then briefly peered at luke who proceeded to wink and give an approving nod.

happily surprised, you sat gaping at the boy you thought was so infuriating just a couple of hours before. luke knew exactly what he was doing. he knew how much you cared for the campers and your half-siblings, how you would always chose their safety and happiness at the expense of your very own.

it was one of the traits he admired the most about you. even when in a bad mood or not feeling your best, you would put on a brave face and make sure to put their needs in front of you own.

he witnessed it first-hand last week when your campers wanted to go rock climbing but there were dozens of poison ivy already there. thus, to not disappoint the kids, you stayed up all night removing the dangerous plant and relocating them to another area deep in the forest for them to grow.

even with your plant manipulation abilities, with the large amount of the poisonous plant, it took you quite a while. afterwards, you went as far to replace them with lovely daisies you summoned from the gardens in front of your cabin.

during the move from the rock climbing course to the forest, luke had spotted you while some late-night sword practicing because he couldn’t sleep due to apollo cabin next door.

he debated approaching you and settled on only admiring you from afar after you almost finished anyway. he didn’t want to disturb you or aggravate you further than you already were. but leaving you here in the forest during midnight would be wrong.

what if a monster were to come? how were you to defend yourself if you were distracted! therefore, it was just common sense that luke had to keep watch, i mean he even had his sword with him after all.

but once the sun peeped from the tall mountains, he came to a realization that he had just sat and watched you for more than a couple hours. so in order to not get caught, he ran off back to his cabin before anyone would wake up.

only a little after luke headed to bed, morning arrived and you were the first one to break the happy news to your campers that today would be the day for rock climbing. greatly proud and feeling accomplished, you even invited other cabins to join and have a spin at it. including luke’s.

now he was the one to show you how much he cared for the campers as well, focusing on a feature you had great respects for. your shocked expression softened and now leapt into his arms.

“thank you, castellan. really.”

blood rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his excitement, but you felt his genuine smile on your shoulder. before pulling away, he stopped by your ear and whispered.

“do i have permission to kiss you, counselor?”

you could’ve giggled at his words and how close his lips were to your ear. without wasting another breath, you pulled his face closer to you and put your lips on his.

feeling the warmth of his breath, you could taste the sweet taste of strawberries he must’ve eaten earlier. only centimeters away, your bodies were attracted to each other almost pressing. the kiss wasn’t long but not short either, somewhat leaving a lasting impression on the other.

yet again you felt a small grin of his lips during the kiss, making you pull away for air. but your eyes were still glued to his, moments away from repeating the act but you both realized where you were and how irresponsible it would look as counselors. so instead he grabbed your hand, now giving you the absolute cutest puppy dog eyes before asking.

“do i have your attention now?”

[angel1010xx]

ｎｉｇｈｔｍａｒｅｓ

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Pairing: Zoro x Reader

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Nami, stop!” Running with as fast of a pace as you could manage, you chased after Nami, crying out for her to stop. She was heading straight into a trap—but why wasn’t she stopping? Why couldn’t she hear you? And God, why did your side hurt so fucking bad?

A jolt of pain caused you to fall to your knees, scraping them and your shins against the rough cobblestone road. Your hands went to your side, pressing down hard, and you looked down.

Red. There was so much red.

Tears fell from your eyes as if they were a waterfall, and you shrieked in utter agony and fear. You didn’t have the strength to stand. You didn’t have the strength to move at all. 

Barely managing to lift your head back up, you gazed on as Nami got overpowered by the devil fruit users that attacked the crew. You glanced to your right—there was Chopper, laying in a pool of his own blood, body small and misshaped. You glanced to your left—there was Franky, lying still, limbs missing. 

Dazed in shock from what was going on around you, and from the pain in your abdomen, you hardly registered when two hands fell on either side of your head. Someone was standing behind you. However, you did feel when they twisted your neck, and with a quick ‘snap,’ the pain was gone.  

Thud.

You gasped and wheezed, pushing your upper body up off the floor. Sweat was dripping down your face, and your body was soaked in it. Slowly, you managed to piece together that no, you weren’t dying in battle. You were in your cabin, you had just rolled off of your bunk, and you were in your underwear—no bloody clothes and no fatal flesh wounds. 

Your shoulders hurt from the fall, but this was much better than a nightmare.

Groaning, you began to stand up. It was hot. You were thirsty. Why did the kitchen have to be so far away? I need to ask Franky to put some mini-fridges in the rooms, you mused. 

You grabbed a robe off the hook on the wall, and wrapped yourself in it as you left your cabin quarters. It was cool outside, and it was a welcome change. You took a few deep breaths.

In… out. In… out. Someone please make my heart stop beating so fast.

“Can’t sleep?”

You squeaked in surprise, stumbling a bit while you whipped around to see Zoro. He was sitting while leaning against the main mast that led up to the crow’s nest, a slight flush on his face that was a little damp. You eyed the bottle at his side. “Yeah…” you muttered. “Are you training? This late at night?”

He just shrugged. “Can’t become the greatest swordsman if I don’t make time to train.”

“Training? With booze?”

“Mind your business. Gotta practice being battle-ready under any condition.”

You huffed, pulling your robe tighter around you while you moved to sit down beside him. Zoro silently picked up the bottle and gestured it towards you, and you chose to take it. You put the bottle to your lips, took a gulp, and groaned as the alcohol burned down your throat. “I don’t drink much.”

“Oh yeah?” Zoro mumbled as you handed him back his liquor. “Good. It’s not good for you.” A few silent moments passed while the swordsman placed his attention on your heavy eyes. He gestured towards your face, hand still holding the bottle. “You’re tired. You look like you’ve been crying.” You sighed, then placed your head on his shoulder. “Bad dreams. I’ll be alright.”

Zoro tensed up slightly, but didn’t move to get you off him. Mr. Rough-and-Gruff had a soft spot for his crew, and maybe more so for you. “I have strong friends,” you whispered. “I don’t have to worry about any of them, especially not the king of hell right here.” Zoro chuckled. “No, definitely not.”

You two stayed there, quiet, and comfortable in the moment. Neither of you remember when you two dozed off to sleep, lying against the mast.

*_______*_______*________*

Nami yawned and stretched, still shaking off her sleep as she left her quarters as the sun rose. She had to go find Robin, and Robin had been on night watch, so Nami was heading towards the crow’s nest.

What Nami was surprised to see, was you and Zoro sound asleep on the deck. Your head was still on his shoulder, and your legs were up against the side of him while his arm was around your waist. She smiled. 

Nami turned her head as she heard the door to the kitchen slam open. There, in the doorway, stood a very pissed off Sanji. Wasting no time, Nami rushed him, placing her hand against his mouth and pushing him back into the kitchen. She listened as Sanji shouted a bunch of obscenities—“Damn that mosshead! Defiling a princess! His hands shouldn’t be on such an angel! It’s a crime against humanity!....”

Nami laughed at him. What a sore loser. 

[frogchiro]

The Hunter and the two Bunnies

Day 3!! Yay! I won't lie I was super excited for this one so I hope you guys like it too!

Warnings: heavy nsfw, fem!Reader and Graves are bunny hybrids, Simon is a hunter, mentions of murder and gore but not much at all, Simon is a possessive and obsessive man, it's implied that both reader and Graves didn't have much choice to stay with him at first but it's really up to you ^^

Autumn was near, it was clear as day. The leaves started turning all sorts of oranges, reds, yellows and started to fall, the warm summer days turned to cool and bleak weather with a chilling howling wind and cold rain hammering against the wooden roof of Simon's cabin. Despite the bleak and unforgiving weather outside, the inside of the wooden house is a picture of warmth, coziness and pleasure.

With the roaring fire in the hearth, the leftover uneaten honey-glazed ham, fresh bread and fruits and of course the two warm, glistening bodies of two lovely bunnies currently warming Simon's weary muscles.

"Ahh...Yeah, that's right...Use your hips more-Perfect, fuuuck...", came the low, growly voice from the scarred, blond man sitting in his well-loved, warm armchair as your pretty, soft body continued to move above him, your whines and moans like music to his ears, your soft tits pressed tightly to his sweaty, hairy chest and all Ghost could do was let out a groan as he felt his swollen tip hit your cervix, potent cum leaking out and he could feel his balls tighten at the delicious fantasy of his sperm being right in your most intimate place, doing its job and breeding you with his baby.

"S-Simon please-it-it's too deep! Ah-! Si I feel it in my belly..." came your whined response as you gently ran your hand over your lower belly and pressed, both you and Simon moaning out at the intense, pleasurable feeling of him right there inside you and you couldn't help but tighten up, your cunt squeezing the large male like a vice making him let out a loud moan and thrust his hips up more roughly.

The wonderful, pleasurable scene was lazily watched by Philip, another bunny Ghost managed to catch last winter. The blonde male hybrid was laying on his back on one of the numerous fluffy furs in front of the fireplace, surrounded by more pelts and pillows arranged in the form of a nest. Philip continued to watch the display with a warm smile, happy that his mates both can feel all the pleasure in the world in this little cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere, the three of you can calmly and safely mate and be happy, not to mention the possibility of making your small family a little bigger by next spring. The blonde couldn't help but wince at your high pitched whine as Simon let out a matching loud growl, he probably was right up against your cervix bruising it and making you sore for the next few days, and Philip had to lift hips own hips slightly, the achy feeling settling in his hips and he let out a quiet whine as he felt Ghost's cum leaking out of his hole and wetting his thighs but he quickly used his fingers and stuffed the precious semen back inside him, nothing could go to waste...

After finally cumming deep inside you with a triumphant roar, his balls squeezing and twitching along with his dick lodged deep inside, he held you close to his hot, bulky body and caressed your back and ass, gently palming at your floppy (H/c) ears and fluffy tail before finally gently lifting you up and putting you down into the prepared nest, Philip gratefully accepting you back into his strong arms and immediately getting to nuzzling and licking at your tear-stained cheeks, muttering something sweet making you giggle tiredly and nuzzle into the scruffy stubble on your mate's cheek.

Simon sat back in his armchair with a cigar and a glass of whiskey and just watched you in a comfortable silence, not even bothering to put any clothes back on, only throwing a warm, silvery wolf pelt over his shoulders. He was a proud man, not afraid to show his body to his loved ones, especially you and Phil, it made him happy to be able to shed everything and just let loose, not to mention that sooner than later both of you will recover and want to go for another round and any layer of clothing would be torn off anyway with your small, but sharp claws.

It's a good thing that Simon won't have to go out anywhere for the next two or so days; your supplies and pantry is overflowing with herbs, spices, dried meats, forest fruit and vegetables and anything else you'd ever want. It's also a good thing that he dealt with that pesky little visitor who wandered a little too close for him liking to his territory. Was the guy a lost tourist who wanted to just get back on the trail? Or was he a filthy little thief who wanted to steal his bunnies away...? Well it's doesn't matter now anyway, at least not to Ghost.

The guy's head was basically shot off with the military grade rifle Simon still kept from his military days and now he was probably dragged away by the neighbouring pack of wolves deeper into the dark forest. It will be just Simon's dirty little secret, after all it's no use for him trouble your pretty little bunny heads with something like that.

The rain continues to patter against the cabin, and everything fell silent once again.

[psychesalcove]

„ we both like apple cider, but your breath is smellin' like fruit punch

𝜗𝜚 jason grace x daughter of poseidon

+ platonic percy jackson x sister reader

synopsis ; you and jason had just started dating. neither of you were ecstatic about telling your brother, percy, about your relationship. so, you did the most reasonable thing two demigods could think of;try to pretend your just friends around him.

⚠️ ; reader is a tad dramatic ab how protective percy is, percy being a good older brother, not proofread, iris camper gets targeted bc i didnt know who else to put 😭, piper n jason didn't date in this fic, reader was kinda a bitch to percy (not in the end tho!!), don't go much into how reader n jason pretend to just be friends, reader is a tad out of tune with her emotions, mainly reader and percy centered, kissing, percy being incapable of doing his laundry, percy being a drama queen twords the end

requested ; yes, by anon !!

jason and you had only been dating for around two weeks. and it was rough. not being with jason, no, that was amazing. you had been crushing on him as soon as he arrived at camp with leo and piper. you had never been happier for your relationship change with him.

percy was the problem. you loved your half brother, you really did. but he has a tendency to be a bit overprotective of you and tyson. most times, you don't mind at all. it means the ares cabin tries to pick fights with you less, the hermes cabin doesn't target you as much, etc.

but, percy and you dating don't go together very well. you had only dated one other camper, a child of iris, before you both decided you would work better as friends after a couple months.

percy had been there for those months, and he was not a happy camper. he consistently hovered over you and the child of iris, never letting the two of you be together by yourself, let alone in your cabin. he got better the longer you stayed together, but the underlying protective side of him was always present.

which is why you're trying to hide your relationship with jason from percy. you know percy means well, but you learned he can be a bit suffocating at times. even though jason and percy were friends, you know he'll still get protective.

so, both you and jason had mutually agreed to try to keep your relationship a secret from percy until you felt comfortable enough to tell him.

༉‧₊˚.

"so when do you think he'll catch on?" piper asked you as she laid down besides you on her bed. you were having a sleepover in the aphrodite cabin, piper wanting to share the latest gossip with you as usual.

"hopefully after we tell him," you chuckled, flipping through the pages of a vouge magazine you found on the floor. "i know percy isn't dumb, but i'm hoping that with us not being all lovey dovey with eachother in front of him pays off."

piper nodded her head. "yknow he might not mind you dating jason as much as that iris kid you dated a while back. i mean, the two are pretty good friends with eachother," hehe said as she scooted closer to you to view the magazine.

you sighed lightly. "i guess, i just don't really know," you said. "i don't want percy and jason to not be friends just because percy doesn't agree with me dating," you countied, looking at piper for advice.

"babes, i don't think percy doesn't agree with you dating. he just wants what's best for you, so he has high expectations for whoever you date." she mused, giving you the advice you were seeking for, even if it was going against what you had said.

"and, that iris kid was not cute; i can see why percy didn't want you dating them." drew added as she walked by the two of you.

༉‧₊˚.

it was a couple days after your sleepover with piper, and you were laying in your bed in your dad's cabin. you had thought over pipers (and drew's light commentary) words and realized that you were being a bit dramatic for how percy acted.

it was natural for him to be protective over you, just as you were of him. thinking about it, you would have been weary of annabeth if you were at camp before they started dating. and, drew was right. that camper you dated before was not the cutest, and also wasn't the best partner.

which percy had probably picked up on; which explains why he was so weird with you dating them. suddenly, the idea of telling percy that jason and you were dating didn't seem that bad, now having reasons for percys past behavior.

him and jason were friends, i mean they did go on a world saving quest not long ago, and they seemed to get along just fine together. (minus when they fought over a chair, piper told you that as soon as she could).

and, percy was probably really confused now thinking about it. both you and jason had tried to spend as little time as you could with him since you started dating; worried that one of you would slip up and accidentally tell him. whenever you saw percy, you tried to walk the other direction, and anytime he said something to you or tried to hang out with you, you made an excuse of being too busy.

you were brought out of your train of thought as the door opened to the cabin, percy walking in. he looked like he just got done with training and taking a shower. his hair still looked slightly damp, and he wore his orange chb shirt with his cargo jean shorts.

it seemed that he didn't notice you at first, lightly humming a tune while walking over to his bed. he started folding the pile of clothing that was on his bed, and that had been for about a week now.

you lightly coughed to alert him of your presence in the cabin, causing him to pause in his humming and turn around.

"hey, you." he said. "you tryin' to avoid me in here? yknow it isn't as affective because it's also my cabin," he tried to joke, but it just fell flat. you sighed lightly, sitting up on your bed and making eye contact with percy.

"i've been a bitch to you," you stated. his eyes widened and he laughed at your statement. you rolled your eyes in response. "i own up to how i've been acting and you laugh?" you said with an annoyed tone of voice.

percy quickly shuts up and sits on his pile of clothing bed and mirrors your position. "i wasn't laughing at you, i was just surprised that you said that instead of something else." he defended, smiling over at you. "have anything else to say?" he asked.

"me and jason are dating."

"i know."

you stared at him in surprise. "you know?" you asked with genuine question in your voice.

percy chuckled. "yeah, i do. pretty easy to tell when both of you start avoiding me and i see you two sucking eachothers lips off behind the zues cabin." he mused, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"and, you don't care?" you asked, still in shock with the information percy had just given you.

"why would i?" he said. "i mean, i know jasons good for you, i've seen it with my own eyes. he's a good person, has good morals, knows how to treat a girl right, i mean he might've been raised by a wolf but that guy is good." he says, getting up and taking a seat on your bed next to you.

he wrapped one of his arms around you and brought you closer to him. "i love ya kid, and i only want what's best for you. and jasons exactly that." percy said as you leaned into his embrace.

"but i also want you to know that if i do find jason n you making out again, the zues cabin might become flooded. just a warning in advance," he joked, but you wouldn't be surprised if that was a true statement.

you only hummed in response, bringing an arm to wrap around percy. "sorry i was such an asshole, i just wasn't expecting you to be okay with it," you said in a timid voice, not used to being so truthful with percy about these topics.

"apologie accepted," he said. "but, if you date another person like that iris kid, i'm gonna be the bitch, deal?" He asked, pulling away from the embrace and holding up his pinky finger, wiggling it lightly when you didn't move.

you rolled your eyes, but brought your pinky up to his.

"deal."

༉‧₊˚

it was friday night, which meant campfire night. after your conversation with percy, you had gone to the zues cabin to explain to jason your talk with percy. jason was more than happy that percy was okay with the two of you. (he would never tell you but he might have jumped around his cabin and im'd thalia as soon as he could to tell her).

jason and you sat at the camp fire, with the rest of the seven. even if you weren't apart of the prophecy, you still became friends with all of them; they like to refer to you as the hoary member of the seven.

jasons arm was wrapped around your shoulder, brining you to lean into his side as you both stared into the fire. one of the apollo kids was playing a song you didn't recognize, but it didn't really matter.

you were surrounded by people who you loved and who loved you back just as much: the main ones being jason and percy. both of them held special places in your heart. jason was your love, the part of you that you were always missing. percy was your sibling, even if only half, and was your partner in crime.

you saw jason make a quick glance in the direction that percy was in out of the corner of your eye. jason moved the two of you so both of you were face to face. he smiled softly at you and you returned the gesture. you saw jason take a quick glance down at your lips, and you got the cue. both of you leaned into eachother, lips softly connecting with one another.

it wasn't your first kiss with jason, but it felt like it. not feeling like it inexperienced and neither of you knew what you were doing. it felt like the first kiss because it was the first one that was happening with your relationship being out in the open.

all of camp had caught onto the fact that jason and you were dating pretty fast, as the two of you could be seen everywhere together: holding hands, kissing eachothers cheek and hands, and jason walking you to your cabin at the end of everyday.

with the warm fire and light storms of gutair in the background, it felt like you finally found exactly where you were supposed to be. you silently sent aphrodite a prayer in your head as you felt jason bring a hand up to your cheek to deepen the kiss.

both of you pulled away slowly, needing to breath for a moment. jason looked at you with such adoration in his eyes, showing nothing but his pure love for you in the moment. both of you smiled softly at eachother, jason bringing you closer so your foreheads could rest against one another.

as the song came to an end, a loud dramatic gasp was heard to the left of you.

"JASON MY LOVE HOW COULD YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO ME?" a voice, that you emideantaly recognized as percy, said. "I THOUGHT WE HAD A LOVE NOONE COULD EVER REPLACE," he countined as both you and jason rolled your eyes, pulling away from eachother.

percy approached the two of you as another song began, "jason, bud, on a serious note, you better treat her right okay? she only deserves the best and i'm expecting you to give that to her," he said in probably the most serious tone of voice you've ever heard.

as you watched jason give a salute to percy, piper and leo gave you a thumps up from behind jasons form.

[darylbae]

hiii, could you write something fluff with vamp daryl and a fem reader that really likes to stay in the sun? and even tho daryl cant stay for long in the sun he likes watching her enjoy herself for afar💕😭 sorry for the bad writting english is not my firt language

my girl and her garden — daryl dixon🩰

in which vamp!daryl just loves to watch you in the sun

note: i dont have a specific kind of vampire in mind when i write this, so none of my vamp!daryl stuff is really the same.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It never took long for you to understand what Daryl was. You'd grown suspicious long before he'd admitted it to you, noticing he'd never eat around you and would always go out to find his own food. He'd find reasons to stay inside if he could, not that sunlight burned him alive, but too much of it was harmful. It terrified him when he finally told you, worrying he'd be go back to being alone again. He didn't want to, but he enjoyed your company, he enjoyed waking up and working around you, surviving with you. So now the pair of you were stuck together. Of course, you had a lot of questions. "Will you outlive me?" "Will you stay the same forever?" "Will you get sick of me and eat me?" And he answered them all however he could. Daryl loved how different you were to him. He found comfort in staying inside, keeping to himself, and that had all changed when he'd met you. You loved being outside. You loved the sun kissing your skin, you loved gardening and doing everything you could outside. The cabin the two of you shared was fenced in and kept safe, thanks to Daryl. And had a lovely open area of grass, you'd even built flowerbeds, to plant and watch over your food. Even as it had been raining a lot, you enjoyed at least being on your porch, watching your crops flourish in the rain, listening to the heavy thrum of the rain against the leaves and trees surrounding you. It had finally starting to shine again outside and you almost leaped out of bed to get some UV on your skin. Skipping coffee and breakfast, you'd put on a summer dress you'd kept over the years, and off you went. The sun was beaming down onto your skin, onto your plants, fruits, and vegetables. You couldn't be happier as you bent down to admire the growing strawberries. Daryl had only just rolled out of bed, feeling the vacant space beside him and worrying. Only to see the door to your cabin open, and could hear your sweet voice humming quietly in the distance. He'd poured himself a coffee, standing at the door frame and fishing into his pocket for a smoke. He could do this for hours, he could make a profession out of this. Watching you, studying you, the way you smile at every bit of progress your garden was making. If he were to eventually die, this is what his Heaven would be. You looked up, to see the moody shadow at the door frame and smiled sweetly at him, lifting a hand to wave. He'd returned the gesture, flapping his fingers at you and inhaling deeply on his cigarette. You'd leaped up from your squatting position, running excitedly up to Daryl to show him your work. "Dar! Look!" He stubbed his cigarette against the wall of the cabin, not wanting to blow smoke around you. "What is it, honey?" You lifted the strawberry, a large, deep red, juicy looking one, and held it up to his face. "I know it's not to your taste, but try it! Look how amazing it's grown!" You held it to his lips and he'd taken a bite, holding your gaze almost seductively. You wanted to drag him to bed and show him a good morning. But there were more exciting matters at hand, like your marvelous strawberry. "That's amazing. Well done, my girl." He cooed, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you into him. Your stomach tightened quickly at the praise, and you'd accepting the affection from him. Daryl always knew how to make you feel special. "Better get back out there!" You hurried back outside, after handing him the rest of the strawberry, and got back to work. Daryl stayed where he was, comfortably inside and had the perfect view of you. The sun lighting up your skin, making you glow as if an Angel had come and roamed the Earth. A small part of Daryl resented what he was, it limited what he could do, especially with you. If he could, he'd eat, sleep, bathe, and make love under the sun with you. He wanted to enjoy it as you did, but he was content with watching you for now.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

thinking of daughter of demeter reader x luke 🥴

tell me they wouldn’t be so cute!! reader patching him up after his training, and him visiting her in the strawberry fields ! 💝

they would be the cutest.

𝒮𝓀𝓎

“Luke!” You exclaimed when he walked into your cabin, you put your book down. Your eyes fell to his arm, bleeding.

“Nice to see you too, angel.” He mumbled when you grabbed his arm, leading him to the bathroom, he sat down on the closed toilet seat and held his arm out.

“What happened this time?” You spoke as you rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out some large bandages. You grabbed a cup nearby and put some water in it, pouring it over his wound, washing the blood away.

“I was training with this Ares kid and he nicked me.” He shrugged as if blood wasn’t just gushing from his arms.

“Nicked you? He might as well have stabbed you! How’d he even manage to do that?”

“Tis but a scratch.” He joked, a small smile on his face as you put the bandage on his arm. “I looked away for a moment, let my guard down. It was my fault,”

You shook your head to yourself and bandaged his arm.

“Thank you.” He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You smiled, “Why did you come to me and not the Apollo cabin?” You asked him as you put everything back where it was.

“Because, I wanted to see you."

"You saw me 20 minutes ago." You spoke, walking out the bathroom now. He followed.

"60." he corrected, a small smile on his face.

“I would love to stay, but I still have classes.” He said with a groan as he looked at the time.

You nodded in understanding.

“Just take it easy and don’t get stabbed next time, okay?”

“You got it, doc. I will see you later.” He said, a small smile as he walked backwards and pointed little finger guns at you.

You rolled your eyes, he was just like a teenage boy.

You walked through the field, basket in your hand and your hands grazing the grass. The strawberries would be perfect for picking now, you thought.

You wanted to lay in them and never leave. You wanted to live amongst the field and the crops.

You had a small smile as you picked some off, putting them into the basket. As a child of Demeter and the counselor of the cabin, you overlooked the crops and the fruits for the rest of the camp, not that you minded. You liked doing it, like how a Hephaestus kid likes forging.

Silently, Luke came up behind you. You were wearing that dress that he loved on you, you seemed at peace, you seemed happy.

You heard his footsteps when he neared, you turned around and your eyes met his.

“Luke.” You said, shocked to find him here. Your basket was almost halfway full.

“Hey.” He spoke, a small smile on his face as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Missed you.” You mumbled.

“I know, ‘m sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“It’s okay. I understand. You’re here now, though.” You said, he leaned down to give you a kiss. Your lipgloss getting onto his lips, making you smile and laugh as he wiped it off.

"Why are you here?" you asked him, turning around and continuing to pick the strawberries.

"Just wanted to see my girl." He said, putting his arm over your shoulders, giving you wet sloppy kisses on your neck. You gently pushed him away with a smile.

"Well, while you're here, you can help me." you said.

"Just when I thought I would be done with work." he sighed, you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, but strawberry picking wont get an Ares kid to stab you." You bent over to pick one off.

"He didnt stab me. He barely scratched me." He argued, bending down and picking off a strawberry as well.

“Mhm. How is it, by the way?”

“Better, thanks to you.” He said, and when he picked up the next strawberry, there was a little ladybug on it.

“Look.” He mumbled, handing the strawberry to you. You sat down, smiling at the strawberry. He sat down next to you.

“It’s adorable.” You said quietly, it began to climb up your hand then your arm. He smiled as you looked at it crawling up, then at Luke.

You then put your arm to the leaf of another plant, luke furrowed his brows.

“Wouldn’t the ladybug eat it..?”

You smiled and shook your head. “Ladybugs keep the leaves healthy without pesticides. They’re wonderful.” You mumbled the last part, he smiled and nodded. He was happy to see you so passionate about something.

You looked down at your basket, and while you were sitting, picked some other strawberries nearby.

You both sat down for a little, talking and laughing, and somehow, you both ended up laying down on the grass as the sun went down and the stars began sprinkling across the sky.

[mariaxxxxx]

Gods fall sometimes (+18)

Summary: Summary: K'uk'ulkan for You to give him a baby (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, slight degradation, pregnancy, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words

A/N: A sequel, or not, to Dragon Fruit. I feel like the reader and K'uk'ulkan have a lot to tell about the baby.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

PART 1

You woke up at your usual time in the morning. A young maid came to the hammock and gently woke him up. Rested, you sat in the hammock, watching the cabin. It was already daytime, you assumed the sun wasn't present in that cave meters below the sea. So, the room was cold, indicating the presence of salt water around the stones. You stretched, passing your hand over the hammock, something you had become accustomed to doing.

He wasn't there, in fact, he never was. Her husband always slept next to her, but they never woke up together. K'uk'ulkan always woke up early and left the room, leaving her alone to rest. A habitation that You were already accustomed to. Even though, after years of marriage, he was still in the hammock while You woke up, it didn't take long, and he soon returned to Talokan.

You understood. I couldn't stay mad at him. Her husband had ruled for centuries alone, and taciturn habits were hard to shake. Although her days were lonely, her husband made the nights warm. Attempts to make a baby were fun, but fruitless so far. You thought you conceived a baby the day your husband made you pray for him, but the Gods gave you no such gift. The red spot between his legs the following month was enough to make him give up trying.

The Gods, not even K'uk'ulkan, were willing to make you a mother. If not even the divine was able to make you conceive, you thought that an infusion with dragon seeds wouldn't do it either, so you chose to leave it aside. You hadn't talked to your husband about giving up on him, you just continued to let him devour you during the night and cum while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you would look pregnant.

You shook your head to get the bad thoughts out of your mind. He got up from the hammock, noticing for the first time, a box on a small table. A box wrapped in jade green paper. Feeling attracted to that object, and as she approached, she captured a small paper containing the drawing of a celestial goddess generating life in her womb. A faint smile formed on her lips as she noticed her husband's enthusiasm in conceiving a child.

You ripped open the wrapping and opened the wooden box, taking out what appeared to be hair ornaments shaped like your crossed serpents encrusted in gold and jade stone. You smiled a sincere and charming smile. You loved getting jewelry and your husband knew it

“Beautiful, my queen.” Exclaimed the young maid. You hadn't noticed that she was still in the room. “Like the serpents in the hair that adorn the goddess Ixchel.”

“Oh.” You exclaimed in surprise. Only then did he realize that they really resembled the snakes in the hair of the statue of the Goddess Ixchel.

You underestimated your husband, as you always had, he knew you like the back of his hand. It was a not-so-subtle warning that he would continue to try to get her pregnant. He saw her as the goddess of love and the moon herself, this only revealed her adoration before You. Her hands felt for her hair ornament while her mind thought about how You could put an end to her anguish. Then an idea popped into his mind; an idea that could please or upset the gods. It will be her last attempt at conception, if it doesn't work, you will accept that the Gods were not willing to give you the gift of pregnancy. Determined, you turned to the young handmaid and said:

“Cancel all my commitments as queen. Then help me with something

(….)

You were on your knees in the soft reeds waiting for him. As K'uk'ulkan slipped through the curtain, wet from head to toe and richly adorned in gold, he froze at the sight of her figure sitting on her knees in the reeds. With the outfit, or almost none of it, more erotic than he had ever seen. He left him speechless and his cock hardened just by the sight. You looked like the Goddess of the moon herself. With her breasts uncovered, a huge black pearl necklace around her neck, a thin transparent petticoat that covered her intimacy, her perfectly styled hair held back by the hair ornament received in the morning.

 K'uk'ulkan didn't say a word or make a sound, like he could have. He just allowed himself to enjoy the most beautiful sight. It was You who dared to break the silence.

“My devotee.” You exclaimed in a low voice. “Tell me what You want.”

K'uk'ulkan laughs, realizing his joke and approving the idea. Would it be a challenge? Yes. He would do everything to please the young God who lived in his bed. For You, K'uk'ulkan would bend the knee.

“Ah, my beautiful goddess.” He murmurs, approaching the reed. He placed his knees on the soft padding, getting close to You. “Can I eat You, my Goddess? Put my seed in your blessed body?”

You lick your lips, push your knees up until your lips are close to his.

"Perhaps." You whisper. “Show me how much you want this. Show me how much you want me.”

Before you can react, he reaches out to tilt his cheek and presses his mouth against yours to begin a familiar dance between tongues. You kissed those lips several times, infinite times and it would never be enough. No amount of touching would be enough to satiate her love for this man.

You move away a little to breathe, resting your forehead against his and stroking his nose affectionately.

“Last time, my love.” You say. “If tonight we don’t conceive, know that it will be the last time we try.”

“Don’t say that” he says with a slight tone of sadness in his voice. “We will try as many times as necessary until my seed takes root in your womb.”

You wanted to argue and say how much the failed attempts destroyed you inside. She wanted to tell of the times she cried in secret during each new cycle of the new moon without a child in her arms to thank the goddess. But you didn't say it, you just withdrew that feeling to the bottom of your heart and kissed him again.

This time the kiss became more urgent as a silent promise of comfort and burning desire. He wraps his arms around your waist, until you're sitting on his lap. You snuggle onto his hardened cock, moving your hips just the way he liked it. K'uk'ulkan's desire rose like the rising tide before the full moon.

"Part." You murmur into his kiss. “Ask me. Offer me everything.”

"Yes." He says over moans. “My beautiful goddess. I guarantee that my offering will be satisfactory.”

"Hmm." You lick his lips.

Your husband takes a deep breath as his fingers curl around your hips propelling your movements, his lips pursed awaiting more of your kisses. You put your hands on his chest and push him so he lays down on the soft pillows. It was his turn to be in charge. He tries to get up to pull you to yes, but you push him away again, remaining firmly seated on his covered cock.

You lean in and start placing small kisses on his lips, which go down to his chin and neck. Before you know it, he distributes kisses and nibbles over his toned chest. With an expert touch, you pull the fabric of the shorts down. Her mouth salivates and her pussy tightens at the sight of his hardened cock.

“Oh, is this my offering?” You question, your voice full of desire. “I’m not sure it will be enough to satisfy me.”

You notice your husband's fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you wrap your hand around his cock and massage the damp head with your thumb.

“I guarantee that will be more than enough, my goddess.” He grits his teeth as he groans when You squeeze his dick tightly, just the way he liked it.

“I will taste my offering then.”

Sue husband sighs loudly as her fingers curl around him and her lips close over the weeping purple head. Even with little provocation, her pussy fills with excitement at having the salty taste of his seed on her tongue again. You start by kissing the tip, brushing your lips, then continue to tease him with brief sucks and nibbles, listening to your husband's cry for more contact.

"Do not tease me." He orders through his teeth.

"Silence." You exclaim. “I need to check if this offering is up to me.”

K'uk'ulkan rolls his eyes and moans loudly when You take him almost entirely down his throat. His mouth works well, extracting every drop of your salty essence. Her husband Sue pushes her hips up trying to make her swallow more, alternating between provocative sucks and playful licks on the sensitive skin. You keep him in a state of pure pleasure and he growls loudly at the audacity provoked. You were the only mortal who could have a god like him, so weak in the knees, panting like a whore. Her mouth opens wider, pushing herself beyond the limits of paradise, as if she wants to ascend to the divine status her husband has placed her in. You completely swallow it deeper into your throat. Even as his eyes water from the task, you lower yourself onto his cock until your own nose brushes the black hairs of his crotch and his purple head reaches the back of your throat. Your husband gasps as he feels the outline of his cock in his throat, a sight that makes him almost tear the sheets.

"My Goddess." He murmurs between moans and sighs. “Let me spill my seed inside You.”

You take it out of your mouth but wrap your hand around it to continue massaging. Making the provocation even more torturous.

“My worshiper” You tease with a quick movement of your hands, “What do you offer before me?”

"All. I offer everything. My body, my spirit, my nation. Just let me spill my seed into your pussy so that life will be nourished.”

You line yourself up, with your knees around him, to straddle him. Your hand guides the stiff, weeping cock into your wet pussy. You moan loudly as you feel him enter all the way in, your walls welcoming him with sacred heat and divine adoration. Now, no teasing or games. It was time to conceive the much-desired baby.

His cock sinks deep inside her pussy caressing every sensitive spot on her walls. Your hips gain momentum to ride him; rolling and jumping to extract all the lust.

"How many?" You question breathlessly without missing a beat. “How many babies do you want, devotee? Tell me and I will give them.”

“One, two, three...all of them, my goddess. Give me them all”

Your belly contracted with an indication of the approaching orgasm, but You refused to finish before it, as tonight would squeeze out every drop of your seed. K'uk'ulkan lifted his hips to meet his thrust, making it even harder to keep the ecstasy away. Her husband seemed not too far away from his own orgasm, to bring him even further to the brink of pleasure. You made circular movements with your hips as you bounced on his dick.

“Spill your seed!” You demand with the tides of your own release rising within your body, “I'm close, so close…”

Your pussy clenches around him, sobbing his name as you reach your orgasm. The rhythmic spasms of your walls dragging you to the edge along with it. K'uk'ulkan moans with his head against the pillow, his hips stutter briefly, but he continues to pump his seed deep inside her pussy. He holds her hips to keep her trapped and only lets go when all his cum has been emptied. You held in place feeling his penis soften inside You. His breathing was still labored, his head was spinning and his ears were ringing with the powerful orgasm given to You by the divine.

You got off of him, leaving his softened penis lying on his left side. She lay down next to him enjoying the little world of pleasure that surrounded them.

“Tonight, my love.” Her husband said, breaking the silence. “Tonight we will conceive a child.”

And he was right. It was that night that the first baby was conceived. Two months after that night the symptoms started; the swollen breasts, the nausea, the sleep. An old woman confirmed her pregnancy when You came to her to report about the illnesses. When You told him K'uk'ulkan spun her in his arms as she rejoiced promises of love and joy at having a fruit growing in her womb.

For a long nine months you were pampered and fawned over by your husband. No request, no matter how ridiculous, was too small or difficult for her devoted husband. When her belly and breasts became swollen, K'uk'ulkan massaged her body with scented oils for hours, tending to each aching muscle. And when the baby was finally born with its big cheeks and webbed ankles, such devotion also extended to the conceived child. It was no secret how deep K'uk'ulkan's love was for his wife and child.

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in July 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #64 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

🌊 don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 83k, trans Louis) the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

🌊 The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus

(M, 39k, dragons) Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism.

🌊 let me carry your weight by @soldouthaz

(E, 28k, trainer Harry) louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

🌊 Rewriting the Melody by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 26k, canon divergence) Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.

🌊 Peeping by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 16k, roommates) Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.

🌊 It's halftime. Are you ready to go? by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry

(E, 12k, body worship) football is gay and Harry is trying to cope.

🌊 Be Mine? by @softfonds

(E, 12k, famous/not famous) Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it.

🌊 The Checkout by @silverstuff50

(E, 12k, omegaverse) Omega Harry is a bit obsessed with one of the workers at the small supermarket around the corner from his flat.

🌊 every day and tomorrow night by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 8k, high school) “You know the rule, Z,” Harry answers, still not pulling his eyes away from this unexpected Adonis. “If I lick it, it’s mine.”

🌊 Standing On the Edge of Falling by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 5k, famous/not famous) It’s Harry’s first security gig, and somehow, he landed Glastonbury. Unfortunately, he’s been tasked with telling a very gorgeous man that he can’t stream the football match. Things go … much better than expected.

🌊 Body Stay Vicious by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 5k, pwp) the one where Harry is feeling himself in the gym and gets a little carried away. Of course his gym crush just happens to walk in. They work it out

🌊 Unspoken by Speechless / @smokingluckiesalltheway

(E, 5k, exes) Harry and Louis broke up when they were nineteen. They see each other after six years.

🌊 Figure This Out by @haztobegood

(E, 2k, age difference) Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.

🌊 sandwiches on the shady shore by @juliusschmidt

(T, 2k, summer romance) And then, because he’s already showed up embarrassingly early in the day and made Louis a cheese sandwich, he adds, “I wanted to.” Part 3 of Cabin on the Bluff

🌊 Irrumabo by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(E, 2k, sex pollen) Harry’s plane is delayed. He buys a plant.

🌊 coming home by @nouies

(E, 2k, canon Euros 2024) It’s coming home, one way or another.

🌊 Tastes Like Violets by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, famous/famous) Louis has a death metal band, Harry doesn't mind public challenges via Twitter, and Lottie thinks they're both hopelessly chaotic.

🌊 It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16

(E, 2k, silver fox Louis) Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

🌊 If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, famous/not famous) Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

🌊 For you i would lose my mind by @dreaminrainbows

(E, 1k, pwp) Louis is a total menace on stage and Harry has had enough of it

🌊 Salt On My Tongue by @homosociallyyours

(E, 649 words, incubus/witch) Harry is a witch who's been dabbling in summoning sex demons for a while now. He's become especially devoted to one incubus in particular, a blue eyed demon called Louis.

- Rare Pairs -

🌊 Four, Five, Finished? by @beanno28 , @lalalaartje

(E, 45k, Zayn/Louis/Harry) Now that they've all settled down in their relationship dynamic, Zayn, Harry and Louis agree it's time for the next step. They're having a baby! As usual for the three of them, nothing goes as planned. Part 3 of You Only Fall In Love Twice

🌊 Pay It Forward by @reminiscingintherain

(M, 3k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn's agreed to be a sperm donor for his lesbian friends. Louis' his best friend, and he supports Zayn's decision... right?

[monpalace]

ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, fierce deity/reader.

content .. the boys (separately) with a reader who feeds them well, and the fruits of their loving labor.

warnings .. unedited. no pronouns used (you/your). reader is implied to have more meat on their bones (vaguely). reader is in their housespouse era and they aren't even married (legally). non-graphic vomit and forgetting to eat mentioned (link). link and fierce deity are taller than reader. fierce deity is named aram for writings sake. reader is implied to be a god of sorts (fierce deity). fierce deity is literally my oc at this point.

notes .. my schnookums thought they could have big cheeks and get away from me? my cutie patooties thought that i wouldn't write about them eating right? my pookie bears thought that i wouldn't fulfill my duties as their #1? my baby faced sweethearts thought i wouldn't spend 2hrs looking for pictures like those? my favorite white boys? my honeybuns? my hollywood stars? my sugarpies?

i'll eat them. omnom

LINK has always been rather thin. That was especially the case when he was a child. Something about a Kokiri child's diet not fitting what a Hylian needed always kept him frail.

When you both were children, he had quickly gotten used to you plucking his arm when it was idle to compare his lack of fat to your surplus.

(He never minded. He always looked forward to being reminded why he put one foot in front of the other every day during his fight against Ganon, or repeated cycle after cycle when it came to Majora.)

(Funnily enough, you had always made fun of him for being shorter than you as a child as well. You always mentioned he needed to drink more milk and eat more cuccos so he'd one day pass you.)

It was when you were able to cook more than simple meals and wouldn't risk burning down your cottage that you would invite (force) Link over more often than you already have.

Link had always tried to limit his visits to when he absolutely needed to. Free food, bed, shelter, care, supplies, clothes, bathes (the list was endless), and whatnot were always appreciated, but he never wanted to become to comfortable lest he wake up one day (or night. Or afternoon. His internal clock was always ruined when it came to sleeping at your cabin) and decide not return to the world outside.

He does his best to turn down any seconds, or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, and so on you may offer him when he does stay long enough for you to finish whatever extravagant meal you made just for him.

Past experiences often make him sick (with trauma or physically) and result in him vomiting his food, but there's always more from you to replace what he had just eaten and the meal before (if he remembered to eat it).

What he can't finish at the table (or on the sofa, or in the bed), he takes with him when he leaves. Link is respectful in all meanings of the word and hates to leave anything to waste.

When it comes to thanks, he either finds ways to help around your cottage or brings back items from new regions for you to cook. Whether it be repairing the busted bathroom door you've been complaining about before fixing your water faucet so the pressure is what you want it to be, or bringing back a spice the Gorons specialize in you've mentioned wanting to try, Link typically feels his gifts fall lackluster when compared to your treatment of him.

(He trusts your skill and creativity enough to know you won't poison him on accident. He never brings back any recipes or instructions either if it's not a dangerous material.)

(He's always excited to try whatever new dish you've concocted, so his only condition is that you wait for his return to cook whatever it is he brought you. "A celebration, of sorts," he calls it.)

A look in a lone puddle had told him his cheeks had gotten fatter. He supposes he now understands why he was refused entry into one of the pubs when he had to retrieve Malon and Cremia's uncle.

He had noticed that the details of his arms were less visible through his shirts when a Goron had pinched one,— not in the same way you did when you were younger— he had mentioned that he had an amount of muscle and fat to be proud of before asking him to join a tournament. Any attempts prior to were quickly shut down.

During a day of horseback archery with the Gerudo, the sweltering sun had gotten to him enough that he had to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath to feel some sort of relief. One of the women who were training him took a look at his stomach and nodded approvingly, mentioning that he should praise his soon-to-be spouse for feeding him so well.

The last nail in the coffin came when he was riding Epona into Castle Town. His tunic felt uncomfortably small and his tights (curse those damned tights) felt as thought they were stretched more across the expanse of his thighs than they usually were.

He's back in your cottage when he finally vocalizes his thoughts, preferring you to any other tailor or seamstress in the country. "I've gotten to big for my clothes," he either sighs or signs to you while eating. His gaze held a thousand yards in them, idly watching his clothes move with the wind.

The tunic, hat, tights, boots hang outside the window on a string connected to your shed. They had to be washed after a (admittedly well-planned— even if they don't think) ambush by a hoard of chu-chus.

You throw a hazy look to them before returning to the bowl you were tirelessly mixing. You were making dinner, he thinks, or maybe it was in preparation for the big breakfast you were making with the variety of bread from the Gerudo he brought back.

You'd already given him a large snack earlier.

The thought makes him look down at the plate in his lap. Every spot of it was filled and piled with bread, and eggs, and meats, and jams. He couldn't see the white bottom of it even as he pushed and prodded around.

He takes a bite of it gratefully.

"I saw you before you left not even three days ago. You fit everything fine enough to me." At some point you had stopped stirring and held the bowl out to him. Link grabs something off the plate and dips it in without a thought, eating it before responding with a hum of approval. "I can make adjustments to then, if you'd like."

You leave the bowl with him before attending to something on the stove.

"Please," he responds, halfway through another bite of the (what he now recognized as) Gerudo bread and cocoa dip you had made. "Different pants would be nice, though. It'd be a nice excuse to finally get rid of those tights." Both tasted sweet by themselves, he realized, but left a calmer aftertaste that he'd like to savor.

"You've always hated the tights," you hum in response, moving from the stove to the coolers that he'd built you after bringing you a large fish that only lived in Zora's Domain. "What would you want to move on to now? Leggings? Shorts?"

Link watches you remove a pitcher from one of the coolers. He isn't sure how long it's been in there (he doesn't even remember watching you make it), but he assumes you took some ice out so the pink liquid wouldn't freeze over into complete ice.

He watches you try to take a cup from one of the cupboards, watching you struggle to grab his favorite one from the higher shelves.

He stands from the chair sat just outside the kitchen (he liked to watch you cook when you had the time), placing the bowl and plate on one of the many cleared counters (you liked to clean as you worked), and grabs the cup for you.

Link lowers his head with his hand when he hands the cup off, head resting upon the crown of yours as he watches you pour the pink liquid into it, idle arms wrapping around your waist as he makes some slick comment about eating enough milk and cuccos for your liking.

You don't elbow him in the stomach like you might have when you were younger and he doesn't hold the cup above your head teasingly like when he was younger to (— then again, he had to climb a counter to get it out of your reach.)

Instead, you wordlessly pass the cup back to him and he wordlessly drinks it despite not knowing what it was.

He likes it, as he does all your works, and notes how it was both sweet and sour. A taste that fills both his childhood need for sweet all the time and his older palate's need for other tastes.

Handing the cup back, Link tilts his head so he can press a kiss to your crown. "Anything you'd think I'd look good in," he finally responds, the flavor of the moment leaving a tooth-achingly sweet taste on his tongue.

ARAM is often humbled in your abode.

He may have acted arrogant to others in his younger years and horrifyingly aloof now that he's a more seasoned god, but he never failed to (willingly) crumble to his knees when in your presence during either times of his life.

He had no need for the sustenance mortals require, prayers and whispers of his name were always good enough for him, but he'd kiss the ground you walk on if it meant you'd bless him with another food you've created (he already does).

Aram is the provider to your fire-lit home, an arrangement the two have been living by for as long as he can remember.

He is the sword to your shield. The arrow to your quiver. The moon to ever burning sun (which he did create for you, after all). The wound for your gauze. The life to your world— and one cannot live peacefully without the other.

Your food had quickly become an addiction to Aram. He'd eat as much as often as he could, giving little response to when questioned why he loves it so much.

("Because it comes from your hands," he once explained hours later when you were sleeping. "Your hands, that create all. That nourish all it touches and replenishes all that is extinct. I am your antithesis, and I must destroy that which I love."

(You never had the heart to ask again.)

He has enough sense to slow his eating around you. One concerned comment about him choking was enough for him to indulge in needless your wishes, but a question regarding its taste had him eating like a mortal.

His relationship with food prior to getting hooked onto yours was brief and filled with obligation. He never ate to feel full, only to make the people he was fighting with shut up and leave him out of whatever conversation they were having.

It never lingered in his stomach like a warm fireplace that others had described it as. It never made him warm and filled with love. It never gave him the energy he needed to keep fighting.

It just went through his digestive tract (why did he even have one?) and disappeared like an heavy smog finally dispersed by a strong gust of wind before he had to fight again.

When a war was over, you always came. You took the battle-shaken soldiers away when it was their time and healed their ailments if they were able to withstand everything. You went through war-stricken cities and set everything as they should have been. You feed and clothe and bandage and sew and reunite and Aram isn't sure why he lingered.

He's seen the effects of what you can do long after you've left. He knows of the good you're capable of doing just as much as he knows the bad he can cause.

He craves your touch when he sees it at its peak. He indulges himself when he sees it first-hand.

Aram understands what the soldiers mean when you beckon him closer and offer him food, uncaring of how he stands tall above all else.

The soup warms his insides. The flavor resides on his tongue hours after he's finished it. His energy, though far from depleted, had made him feel as though he were a youngling again.

He craves more.

The addiction to your presence and your food (and subsequently, you) had started then. It's an event he could easily recall when asked, one he would happily recount to you if you ever forgot where his devotion to you started.

Meeting after a war or battle had become frequent enough that he had finally learned your name; not some silly alias those who followed you often referred to you as. He felt like one of those lovesick children soldiers talk about, tripping over himself and his words.

He's curious to you, an admirer more than a stalker, fortunately. When he wasn't on the battlefront, he was always hovering around as you worked, busying his hands with whatever task you've given him after noticing his lack of mortality.

You treated him well; doing so even after the era of wars were long gone and he was seldom needed. You cared for him as though he were one of the many wounded soldiers with no family to return to once all was done and said— and to an extent, he was.

He's eating when you bring attention to his softer thigh.

You were reading to him, a romantic thriller that held as much of his attention that your captivating voice did. His gaze focused heavily on you, watching as you lick your lips after each page, how your eyes rake over the page to ensure the tone you speak the next sentence in is correct. He notes how you shift less often, how he doesn't have to move you further up his lap so you can lean against his stomach.

"It's not as painful to sit on you anymore." Aram doesn't think that line was in the book, but he doesn't mention it. It dawns that you were talking to him when you look up, using your finger as a bookmark as you closed the book around it. "Have you gained weight?"

He's a big man; it's a fact he's known since the beginning of his existence. He has large arms, muscles well know for how he snatched prey up to bring back to you. His height made it a simple feat to reach into the trees and capture any avian you wanted to experiment with that night. His legs that would stomp on any fish swimming downstream during a day at the lake you suggested.

He was sculpted by the Goddesses themselves. If they hadn't meant for his body to change along with his lifestyle, they wouldn't have designed him to dough.

(He'd never be ashamed in the fact either. He was contented knowing he had someone to dote over him constantly; a sentiment he had gained after recalling a conversation with wedded soldiers.)

(Also, the prospect of defacing what the Goddesses had long since disgraced was exciting, in a way.)

Aram doesn't look at himself, already well-acquainted with his body as his brow raises in amusement. "You feed me well, My Grace," he responds with a peck on your temple, "I would hope to become more comfortable for your pleasure." He refused to stop eating as he indulged you in conversation, the leg you sat on jumping once in place of his busy hands.

You hum that sweet, quiet hum of yours that Aram has come to associate with your contentedness (he aimed to hear to several tomes every day). Removing yourself from his lap, discarding the novel to the side as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks. "It suits you. You look healthy. Happy."

"Did I look ill before?"

You don't fluster as you might have like in your younger years. He's honored to have grown alongside you, reminiscent of the older couples you've both watched and escorted when he was still an active god.

The same filling feeling your food gives him fills his heart. The lingering sense of peace that he felt since meeting you dancing through his body when your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, the softest and fondest gaze anyone's ever given him in your eyes.

"No," you answer in a quiet voice only he'd be able to hear. "Never. You've always looked perfect."

And Aram has never been more thankful that he separated himself from the Goddesses as he preens under your touch. Never been more thankful that he lingered after the war was done. Never been more thankful that he had readjusted his psyche to more readily accept your gifts and affection.

He frees a hand to cradle to back of your head, a threat to all that aren't you, and brings you beneath his chin in a protective gesture. "As have you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "And as you always will be."

[madhattervanessa]

Kill You To Try (Chapter 4)

Summary: Between old and new issues, you let your own health drag. Not everyone seems to be okay with it.

Warnings: grief, suicidal thoughts, gunshot wounds, stitching wounds

Words: 2621

prev. Chapter - next Chapter

Series Masterlist

-

The summer goes by smoothly.

Ignoring the countless hours you spent crying until your throat was raw, the tears stinging your cheeks, and the air burning your lungs from too many heaving gulps of it past your salty, snot-sticky lips.

Everything is fine.

After telling Gabriel you needed more time, a week later, a book about grief had appeared on your doorstep.

You had tried not to feel patronized.

You are fine.

Everything is fine.

You failed.

You hadn’t talked to Gabriel since.

Time had been spent by yourself, crying, in various places, in your new home.

You watch the bear every now and then from your porch. Sometimes you debate crossing into the river. Just to see what happens. To see if you have what it takes.

What better way to find out if you actually want to live?

But then you slip into a shirt and your hat and make your way down to the ranch instead, without fail.

It fills you with a sick sense of satisfaction.

Who is proud about not facing a bear?

Who even debates that?

Down at the farm, everything is back to how it was before you left- you are joking around with the men as you work together to keep the herd safe and healthy.

You spent half a week in the mountains putting up a new fence, wrapping wire with thick gloves on your hands that cook your hands through instead of facing Gabriel.

After work, it’s straight back to the cabin instead of down to the ranch. But as long as you get up and come to work with a smile on your lips, nobody says anything.

Except for the nights when you go grocery shopping with Rip, you keep to yourself. 

You mostly pick out the vegetables for him, some fruit - somehow, half of it always lands in your grocery bags that he carries inside for you afterward “as a reward for picking out all the best produce”.

You start to notice your kitchen cabinets filling up with all sorts of dry ingredients and canned food, even the occasional pre-mixed cocktail. There’s never any moldy food in your mostly untouched fridge.

The cabin is a mess, especially with all the dirty laundry strewn around in piles, the clean laundry staying in its basket until you’ve worn it all. The thick layer of dust that had quickly returned reminds you of your own inertia, daily.

Your writing crawls, but never quite makes it to the walking stage.

You never unpacked more of your moving boxes, finally retiring the duffel bags that had served as your wardrobe.

All you had managed in the past week had been wiping away the dust sitting on every surface and even prying open the vents, exchanging the filters to make sure it didn't come back.

Instead, you start to pick up some decorations on one of your grocery trips. Fall is basically around the corner now, at least according to the supermarkets.

So you had started picking up a few pumpkins, some fairy lights, a little bit of this and that, slowly browsing every aisle while Rip focused on getting food for the bunkhouse.

You turn into the next aisle and grab a candle, cedar, and … cotton?, and close your eyes. It’s too sweet and heady for your taste. You put it back and browse some more, settling on pine and smoke for another sniff.

When you close your eyes and inhale, you immediately get flooded with cinnamon and deep wood smells- the warmth of it immediately transports you back to the heavy perfume Tess, your godmother, used to wear all of the time. Especially on her visits, her smell would linger just like this.

You fight to smile against the heavy frown that settles on your face and open your eyes. You gulp down another breath of air and put the candle back with shaky hands.

“Hey…”, Rip’s soft murmur behind you makes the fat tears roll down your cheeks immediately. He shushes you, turning you to face him. His arms close around you, wrapping you up in warmth.

The squeeze of his arms does its trick. You sob into his jacket as he runs one of his hands up and down your back. He moves his head and you feel his breath fan over your head for a moment.

“You’re okay, honey.”

You feel too hot and cold at the same time as you sob into his chest. 

He keeps holding on to you, his tight grasp never faltering. 

You can hardly breathe like this and as you struggle with your runny nose, you feel one of his arms dropping. Shortly after, he squeezes a pack of tissues into the slim space between the two of you.

Your hands shake as you take the tissues, quickly wiping at the mess of your already swollen face. You blow your nose and quiet down your crying to small, sniffly sounds.

“You’re okay.”

His chin drops to sit on top of your head as you continue sniffling.

He gives you another minute before he withdraws. He holds on to your shoulders, taking a long look at your face. You try your best not to shiver too much but it’s like your body has detached. You shake like a newborn foal, barely managing to stop your teeth from chattering.

“I’ll just grab one more thing and then we can go, okay?”

You don't remember getting in the car.

Everything seems miles away.

Rip's voice is a dull background sound, melding with the low crooning coming from the radio as your eyes stare out of the car window without focus.

It's like you've blinked and you're back at square one.

What is truly happening in your life?

Nothing is moving forward.

You graduated, you worked, you got the fiance, you moved in, you visited the families, he cheated and here you are. 

Back like a ten-year-old left after she cried blood at the cash register. Left after just enough warning, you came back. Desperate, hurt, looking for something to cling to.

Maybe you shouldn’t ever have left.

Pathetic.

To be precise.

But apparently looking healthy enough for someone to hit on you.

It makes you queasy.

What if you're just clinging to the next best thing?

Worse, what if it's just because you're vulnerable right now?

What if you look desperate?

Oh god, what if-

"-doll. Come on."

The quick raps of Rip's knuckles against the car door make you jump out of your reverie.

He is leaning against the truck, pressing down his hat with his palm before looking out at the ranch.

You sniffle and get another tissue out to quickly wipe away any remaining wetness on your cheeks.

You push the door of the truck open and let yourself fall onto your feet. 

Immediately, dark spots line your vision and you sway.

“Woah, hey-”

“I’m fine-”

You barely feel Rip touch you, before the world faints to black.

-

When you wake up, it's dark outside. 

Your sheets are firmly tucked underneath your body and you detangle from your hug with your pillow to lift your head.

There's light on in the living room.

"Hello?"

You swing your legs out of bed- the dizziness returns immediately and with it, a dull pounding behind your eyes.

A faint light illuminates the living room. You let one hand skate over the wood of the wall as you approach- you can see the top of Rip’s hat from over the back of the sofa. 

He sighs loudly. A faint grumble follows. His face is covered by his hat, a green blanket half covering his body. His boots hang over the edge of the sofa as he dozes.

“Rip?”

He jumps, a surprised grunt escaping him.

“Fuck, h- Bones. Y’scared me.”

You hold on to the back of the sofa.

“Sorry, I don’t know what happened-”

“Did you have a panic attack or something?”

“A- what?”

He sighs and slowly sits up.

“What do you mean? I’m not- It’s not like I am mentally ill or something- I-”

“Honey. Please, just, sit down”, he grunts, sitting upright.

There’s that pitying tone again.

“I’m fine! I don’t need your fucking pity, Rip!”, you bite, despite your voice cracking. You hold your ground against the worrying look.

He bites his lip and averts his eyes. He gets up, the blanket left behind carelessly, and grabs his hat off of the arm of the sofa.

"I should leave-"

"Yeah. I think so, too."

Your face feels hot, burning up, as you flick between rage and shame.

He stands in front of you for a moment before turning to leave.

You stay where you are even as you hear him opening and then violently shutting the front door.

You perk up as you hear yelling outside, your hand immediately reaching for the gun next to the door.

You hear a faint growling, another yell, as you tear the door open.

"Get out of the way!", you scream before pulling the trigger-

Five shots ring out and you hear the bear growl, yelp, and scurrying off but your eyes are on the blood spraying from Rip's side.

He groans and his arm shoots out to hold on to the wooden beam next to the entrance of the cabin.

"Oh my god, Rip-!" You leave the gun on the table next to the entrance and run out towards him as the blood starts dripping down from his side.

"I'm so sorry- oh my god, I-", you press down on his bleeding side as you glance up towards the river.

There's a trail of blood left but no bear in sight.

"Let's get you inside. Come on."

He's spitting curses and you press your hand against him, trying to stop the bleeding.

It's a tumble to get him inside and to sit. The blood is slippery and the cabin hallway is barely big enough to fit the two of you through.

Getting to stitching him up is much more calming.

At least to you.

It's a familiar routine to tend to a wound. You grab your utensils one by one, preparing a kidney tray, some swabs, and some synthetic string with a needle, amounting to a little pile of sterile packaging while Rip gets out of his shirt.

"Put some of that on the wound", you murmur and point toward a bottle of iodine. "Take a cotton pad. It's gonna stain."

He just grunts and reaches out- it's the last thing you watch before you concentrate on pulling on your gloves.

"Clear it up."

He throws the pads into the spare bowl you had set out. You reach out to him and press at the edges of the wound.

All grazes. No clear shot wound. You hum as you try to figure out how to best stitch him up.

Another loud groan and another slam of his hand next to you don't deter you from continuing your probing.

You're used to the men writhing when you have to stitch them up after another accident. This is no different.

It's no different.

Just an accident.

"Got anything- fuck, Bones-"

You look up from the wound.

"Anything for the pain?"

"You can have a stick to bite on. No hand holding."

He groans and reaches out for one of the wooden spatulas to jam in between his teeth.

You stay curled up in front of him, waiting patiently until he sits back again.

"You good?"

He nods but you can see him twitch in his seat when you place the first stitch.

"C'mon, stay still. We've done this song and dance."

"Y'Haven't been the one shooting me, yet, honey."

"Good thing my aim is alright then and I didn't sink a bullet into you."

It's easy to fall back into the banter. Like after a hard reset.

After all, this is Rip.

Rip who has the blood of most of your ex-lovers and affairs on his hands, plenty of branded men and farmhands.

He’s knee-deep in the pool of your combined mistakes, every bruise, cut, broken bone, and tear, always side by side. Misplaced trust and the smell of hay in the sunshine, beating down on the two of you when you had had nowhere to go. The crackling fire in the stove of the bunkhouse when winter came and neither of you had any family to go home to.

You're both all but drenched in the collective of both of your past mistakes. One way or another.

“Almost there, hun”, you murmur halfway through, fully concentrating on stitching the skin together in a tight, neat line. The table creaks miserably next to your shoulder as you push through another part of his skin.

He bites down hard on the stick in his mouth as you place the last pair of stitches, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

You look at his unclenched hand that now lays flat on the table before twisting the thread around the needle. You look back down as you neatly tie it up, snipping it quickly.

Rip inhales sharply through his nose, eyes finally opening again. You discard your instruments into your kidney tray before grabbing the wound disinfectant again.

“Just gonna bandage you up now and then we’ll be done”, you murmur, more to yourself than to him, before you pour some clear antiseptic over the fresh stitches. You don’t jump at the loud bang next to your shoulder, completely undeterred by the twisting of the man in the chair in front of you.

“Settle down”, you murmur and grab some more gauze to dab at the residual blood pouring out with the liquid. As the wound settles, you reach for a big adhesive plaster. You carefully place it, going over the edges a second time with your fingertip to make sure everything sticks.

When you look back up with a short “all done,” Rip lets his head fall back, throwing the stick he had been biting down on into the corner of the room before letting his arm fall. His chest is heaving with harsh breaths and you can’t help but look, his head still thrown back, a bit of sweat pooling in his clavicle. You swallow and turn back to gather your utensils up.

“Let's get you into bed, big guy.”

He grunts and you try a reassuring smile before hoisting him up.

“Going through all the nicknames tonight, huh, Bones?”

You look up at him from where you’re squeezed under his arm, furrowing your brows at him.

He laughs quietly, a little too flat for your liking, as you help him hobble through the door frame of your bedroom.

“You got a real sweet bedside manner, is all.”

You grunt as he bears more of his weight on you to get down onto the mattress.

“There you go”, you murmur, softly letting your hands swipe over his shoulder. “You okay with sleeping like this?”

“It's fine, Bones. Really.”

“Yeah- yeah, okay.” You back off of him, wringing your hands. “I’ll be on the couch, just call me when you need something, yeah? Doesn’t matter what.”

You look him up and down again.

"Do you need something to drink?"

He just looks at you again, a silent reprimand. When he leans back, he grunts loudly and you bite at your lip. Instead of reaching out to steady him, you pull the blanket over to cover him.

He takes it out of your hand and when you turn your head towards him, he averts his eyes.

"Goodnight. Don't bleed out."

He chortles before grinning.

"Goodnight. Don't fucking say that shit to me again."

You smile and leave the bedroom.

You doubt you'll catch any sleep. But you can try.

-

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[watermelonsugacry]

❄ Wonderful Christmastime ❄

A/N: SINCE 2010 ficmas day 4!

SUMMARY: Here is how YN and Harry were throughout the past couple of years during the Christmas season.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // ficmas 2022 masterlist

—2011—

After a little more than a year since becoming One Direction, the band wanted to have a little hurrah before going their separate ways to spend the holiday season with their families. While they were all relatively close to home as they reside in England for the time being, the band rented a small cabin in the country for a couple of days.

As soon as Louis parked the van in the gravel driveway, they all didn’t waste another second as they all practically shove each other out of the way, out of the vehicle and ran out to the spacious backyard. With sweaters and puffer jackets, beanies adorning everyone’s heads and snow boots, everyone didn’t hesitate to scoop up some snow and chuck it at one another. 

The boys gang up on YN and ambush her with flying snow. She squeals, trying her best to shield herself with her arms and everyone laughs. 

“Oh, wait, wait, wait,” YN drops to her knees and puts her hands to the side of her face. 

“Shit, y’alright?” Niall comes down to her level, already out of breath from the altitude. 

“Yeah, it’s just...feel my wrath, Horan!” She quickly scoops up some snow to smash on top of the blonde lad’s head before laughing and running off to throw more snow at the other boys.

Forgetting all about their luggages in the car, the boys scatter around the yard as Niall and Zayn search for sticks and rocks while Louis and Liam roll snow together in attempts to make a snowman. All the while Harry and YN lay side by side as they make as many snow angels as they can. When he’s about to get up to go to another empty spot, Harry turns his head to find YN laying spread out in the snow with a content smile on her face. He smiles fondly at his band mate as he watches her stick her tongue out to catch the falling snow flakes.

“You look so cute,” Harry hums.

“What did yeh just say?” YN’s eyebrows slightly pinch together, her breath can be seen out in front of her from the bitter winter. He’s stunned, he didn’t even know he said that out loud.

“I said you look like a fruit,” He quickly covers up.

“Are yeh calling me fruity?” YN raises an eyebrow, a smile threatening to break out on her lips.

“No! No, I meant, I meant that your cheeks are red and-and that you kind of look like a red fruit. An apple or strawberry, morelike,” He rambles and can practically feel his cheeks burn a flame. It only seems to worsen when she lets out a giggle and reaches over to pinch at his reddening cheeks.

“Who looks like a strawberry now,” She teases before turning her head to her other two band mates. “Lads, yeh need a strong base or else the snowman isn’t gonna stay upright.”

YN pushes herself up to go help the guys before they break out into an argument. Harry just lays on the ground and lets the falling snow cool down his face, grateful that she got preoccupied with something else for the time being. 

He’s got to be more careful with what he says around her. As cool as she is whenever a compliment slips out, he cannot bare the thought of something else more embarrassing falling out of his mouth.

—2014—

Spending a couple of days before Christmas on the road wasn’t ideal. Usually, their busy schedule allowed the band to have at least a week or two before the Holiday came up to spend the much needed time off with their family and into the new year. This year, the band had some last minute interviews, holiday promotional videos and studio time that apparently couldn’t wait until after their break.

In hopes to lift up the mood, YN’s invited everyone over to her hotel suite for a last minute Christmas party. Aside from the rest of the band in attendance, there were a couple close members of their tour and press teams as well as their significant others who were able to be within the area for the Christmas season. It was safe to say that the little party has lifted some of the morale as the room is filled with laughter, story-tlling and mingling among the minimally decorated hotel’s living room—the little decorations YN’s PA was able to pick from the local convenience store at the last minute. 

YN was more than happy with the strings of tiny, colorful Christmas lights around the perimeter of the room, handmade paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and the tiny but mighty tree in the corner of the room.

Harry can’t help his eyes from drifting from the speaker in the group he’s in over to the hostess. YN has a tray of glasses of eggnog in her hands with a grand smile on her face as she offers them to their tour’s technicians seated on the couch, glasses they gladly accept with excited smiles. He can’t hear what she says to the older men there but whatever it was, he smiles at the sight of them laughing.

Harry thinks she must be the finest angel from heaven for her to do all of this. She looks golden in the soft lights of the hotel room, her hair down and when she reaches up to push it behind her ears as her nose scrunches up in laughter, she couldn’t look any more beautiful. 

The corner of his lips quickly drops when he sees a hand come up to rest on her shoulder and how she smiles up at her boyfriend standing next to her. Harry quickly turns his attention back to the group he’s in, and when it pains him, he looks back at his bandmate one more time only to wish he didn’t. The second he sets his eyes on them again, Matthew catches her lips with his. Even if it was for a quick peck, it has her beaming and Harry crushed. 

Moreso when little, baby Lux comes wobbling up to her legs and makes a grabby hands motion to get picked up. YN gladly takes the toddler in her arms and Harry practically sees red when Matthew taps a finger to Lux’s nose with a smile. As bad as it sounds, Harry tries to hide his smile behind his glass when the toddler quickly hides her face into YN’s neck, not wanting any part of the man beside his bandmate.

After a few more minutes of mingling, YN makes the announcement that it's time to open up some of the gifts people brought. Along with the last minute idea of the party, YN organized a small Secret Santa for everyone who planned on coming. Since everyone randomly picked names out of a hat a day or two before the party, she reassured everyone that the gifts don’t need to be extravagant at all, that this was a silly little game for shits and giggles to lift up the mood.

Everyone gathers in the living room to watch and laugh as everyone opens a present from their Secret Santa. Nancy, the band’s tour nurse, cackles when she reveals that behind the green wrapping paper she got a small box of puppy band-aids, their hairdresser Lou sarcastically smiles when she unboxes her own hair-spray bottles, and Niall pretends to cry when he pulls out a Dr. Pepper bottle from his little gift bag.

“Alright,” Emma, YN’s stylist, looks at the small wrapped box in her hands, “This next gift is to YN from her Secret Santa.” 

The room cheers and whoops, making her laugh from her seat next to Matthew on the couch as she reaches for her gift. Harry stands off to the side with some of the lighting crew from their tour team and he begins to fidget and pinch at his bottom lip.

YN playfully shakes the tiny box by her ear and pouts when she doesn’t hear anything rattle.

“I don’t think it’s the puppy I asked for, lads,” She teases and the room chuckles. After ripping off the Santa cover wrapping paper, she lifts the tiny paper box and her smile drops in a small gasp. The room grows quiet as they wait for her to reveal what she received and Harry’s practically shaking in nerves.

Matthew furrows his eyebrows, “Y’alright, babe?” When he leans over to look what’s inside, he’s surprised to see a ring. Not just a ring one can pick up from the nearest dollar store, but a proper jewelry store. The ring is made up of small butterflies consisting of tiny diamonds filling the small shapes. 

YN takes in a shaky breath before speaking, “It’s a ring. A beautiful one um, sorry I kinda dunno what to say,” She lets out a nervous chuckle, not expecting such a beautiful, expensive present.

“Say thank you to that boyfriend of yours for one-upping the rest of us,” One of the band’s social media team lifts his drink, making the room laugh in agreement before moving on to the next person. As Emma reads off the next recipient, YN doesn’t look at Matthew (although she feels him burning a hole at the side of her head) but keeps her gaze on the ring. The second before he lifts his gaze to her closest band mate, Harry quickly flicks his gaze from YN to Emma as she hands off the next present.

As the night progresses and the party guests begin to get tipsy from spiking the eggnog, Harry sees YN in the kitchen as she moves her hand as she talks with her boyfriend. He sees Matt shake his head and barely lift his shoulders like he doesn’t believe what she’s telling him. He watches as he grabs another couple of glasses of eggnog before walking out of the kitchen and to another guest. YN rolls her eyes before going back to preparing another plate of gingerbread cookies Nacy brought.

Harry runs a hand through the top of his shoulder length hair before dismissing himself from the rest of the people on the couch. Before he can make his way down the hallway where the bathrooms are at, he feels a hand on his wrist.

“Harry,” His name sounds like an angelic song coming from YN’s lips, “Hey, I can talk to you for a sec.”

“Course,” He says with a reassuring nod although he’s not too sure why she would when she’s been running around making the party the best it could be. “It’s a great party you’re throwing. Everyone seems to be enjoying it. We all needed this.”

“‘Fanks. Although I’m the one who should be thanking you,” She huffs out a chuckle.

“Why?”

She gives him a pointed look and it's then that he notices that she’s been twisting at her newest piece of jewelry among her usual set of rings on her fingers.

“You know why,” She says quietly. “It’s gorgeous. And thoughtful and...it, it just means a lot to me.”

“I think you should tell your Secret Santa that,” Harry tries to hold back a smile. He had that ring saved up for a couple weeks now and had racked his brain on how to give it to her without making it seem like too much, especially since she has a boyfriend. He was greatly relieved when she announced that she wanted to do a secret Santa gift exchange and thanked heaven when he saw her name scribbled on a tiny piece of paper once he picked from the bunch in the hat.

“I believe I just did,” She softly smiles at him and how can his knees grow weak when she looks up at him like that?”

“Oi, look who’s under the mistletoe!” Jenny, her manager, tipsily calls out with a point of her finger. Everyone’s eyes immediately go to the two of them and confusion takes over their features. They both look up and sure enough, the tiny plant she hung up merely hours ago hangs above their heads. YN had hoped she would have caught her stylist with one of the sound technicians she’s been eyeing under here, but it backfired on her.

Harry looks around the room at everyone’s watchful and eager eyes, and sees a couple of people take out their phones as they begin to chant kiss, kiss, kiss when they begin to take too long to pursue the tradition. 

He sees how their band members peek up and around their position on the couch. He sees Louis look at his childhood best friend and it's then that Harry sees YN looking at a very timid Matthew. His arms cross over his chest as he waits for her to act.

The chanting and lights from recording phones almost drown out when he looks back at YN as their gaze locks. He can’t make out what she’s feeling, he’s usually so good at it and he surely must be wrong when he sees her patiently wait to see what he’s going to do.

Harry takes her chin in between his thumb and index finger and if it wasn’t for the chanting, he’s sure she could hear his heart beating out of his chest. As he leans down closer to her, he sees her take in a deep breath and flutter her eyes closed. 

Was it silly of her to feel disappointed when she feels him plant his kiss to her cheek instead of her lips?

The crowd playfully boos and dismisses the two with a wave of their hands before going back to their previous conversations. Their band members all give each other tipsy looks of concern.

As YN’s feet stay planted in her spot, he can’t stand to watch her blink up at him like that and with her oh-so kissable lips parted. He removes himself from her and continues his way down the hallway without another word.

As much as he would love to kiss her, he knew it wouldn’t have been right. For as long as he can remember, he’s thought about how her lips would taste, how they would feel against his, but it wasn’t the right time. When he kisses her for the first time, it’s going to be special and romantic after a candlelit dinner because that’s what she deserves. 

Not this, not here. Not yet.

—2018—

“Sorry to interrupt,” YN expertly keeps her smile at bay at the sound of her secret lover’s voice over her shoulder, two warm hands being placed on the tops of her shoulders, “But I have to whisk my friend away for just a second. Phone call from home.”

The two were currently at a massive Christmas party YN’s friend Abel was throwing. The mansion they were at was ginormous and it seemed like The Weeknd's guest list surpassed the number of people her and Harry knew combined. The only reason Harry even agreed to go was because she had said that he was her plus one, meaning he was her official date to the Christmas party. Even though the two weren't necessarily an official couple or anything and anything associated with their feeling for one another was strictly underwraps from the public eye, any occasion where the two could make a public appearance together was an opportunity to be taken.

So after getting dolled up for the night in the red velvet dress, he gifted her, the two headed over to the lavish estate with the label of friends, close friends who were once band mates in the world's most famous pop band. 

So to carry on this image for themselves, once they arrived and greeted their host for the night, Harry reluctantly had to pull away from her side to let her mingle with guests.

But after almost two hours of pretending to listen and talk with others, watching YN laugh and talk with her friends, Harry politely dismisses himself from the group of ladies who are practically throwing themselves at him and head over to her.

“Ah shite. Forgot to call me mum,” YN scrunches up her nose. “She’s gonna have my head because of it. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

“Of course! Tell Penny we said hi!” Her friends laugh and tipsily lean against one another before waving happily at another party guest walking by.

Keeping his hands on her shoulders, Harry guides them through the packed house to navigate them both through the spacious living room and towards an almost empty hallway—except for drunk couples either walking into bedrooms to get lost into one another while others apparently can’t wait as they have their mouth suction cupped together. Before she even has time to blink, Harry’s grabbing her wrist and pulling her into an empty room. It’s only when Harry flicks the light switch by the door that she registers that they’re in a coat closet. It takes her another second for her to look up and see that the thing he’s holding up in between their heads is the infamous plant that comes out this time of year.

“Is that rosemary?” YN teases, “Steal that from the kitchen, did you?”

“It’s mistletoe, actually,” He remarks with a tilt of his head. “Huh, funny how that got here,” Harry asks in faux confusion, a cheeky smirk already tugging on the corners of his lips.

“Quite funny, yeah,” YN doesn’t even try to hide her smile and playfully shakes her head, “You’re so cheesy, Styles.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” He points out as he leans his head down to bump his nose with hers to make her tilt her head back. He doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes fall to her lips and slowly back up to her eyes.

“Unfortunately,” She sighs before quickly wrapping her arms around the tops of his broad shoulders and leaning up to connect their lips. The mistletoe is mindlessly dropped somewhere by their feet when Harry wraps his arms around her back to pull her incredibly closer. 

The two are closing in on almost two years of this confused and untitled situationship. One month they act like they’re a couple in love and the next they’re best friends and nothing more—all behind closed doors, of course. A state of affairs that neither one of them has the balls to confront head on in fear of losing what they have. After five years of forced, suppressed feelings, this just felt too good to ever think of messing up with a confrontational discussion about what they are, what they want long-term or if any of this was remotely healthy (yet both have some idea that that last point was far from the truth).

Especially in moments like this where one of his hands leave its position from running over the velvet fabric of her dress and onto the back of her head as he backs them up against the wall. She huffs out a small laugh against his lips when she feels his hands already tugging up the bottom of her dress.

“Are we really doing this?” YN’s giggle turns into a soft moan when his kisses turn feverish as he goes down her jawline to her neck. This isn’t a new thing for the two of them to partake in; sneaking around the public to have the tiniest bit of time together to indulge in actions like this has practically become their norm. 

“Want me to stop?” He heavily breathes against her neck, pressing a kiss just below her ear. He gets his answer when her hands slip from tugging on his hair down to hurriedly unbuckling his belt and she can practically feel him smirk against her skin, “S’what I thought. Now gimme these thighs.”

In a second, he’s lifting her to wrap her legs around his hips and in the next he's hushing her whimpers, moaning into the crook of her neck as she grips tightly to his shoulders while he pushes into her.

—2020—

"It's not holding," YN’s shoulders lift up to her ears in a giggle.

"You put too much frosting on it," Harry chuckles, getting up from his seat at the kitchen island to take his place behind her. "Here, I think you need an extra set of hands."

Her laughter only grows when her boyfriend obnoxiously reaches over her shoulder and places his hands on top of hers that are holding the walls of her gingerbread house upright.

This is their first Christmas together, just the two of them. Since the pandemic hit everyone particularly hard this year and travel has been very limited. Which means that with everyone having to go into lockdown for the good part of the year, going back home wasn't a solid possibility.

As devastated as they were at the news, they both knew that it was for the best as they didn't want to expose their family to anything. 

On the other hand, however, the two became excited at the realization of spending this holiday together. Even though they felt a bit homesick, it soon eased itself away by knowing that they were each other's home.

"Look, look! It's working. Here, take your hands off of it really slowly. See, look at it standing," Harry cheers at the sight of her tiny, editable home upright. Messily covered in frosting but standing nonetheless.

"It looks awful," YN shakes her head with a scrunch of her nose, her frosted covered hands held up in front of her.

"It just needs some candy shingles, some bushes in the front and, you know, some Sour Patch kiddos to live in it," He vaguely waves his hand at the house.

"Ooo, I nearly forgot we had those," YN perks up, sticking a frosting covered thumb past her lips, "Where did yeh put them again?"

"Pantry, I think."

With that, YN shimmers her way around her love before toeing the door open. After strategically grabbing the share size candy bag in between her elbows, the second she comes out from the pantry room, Harry quickly comes up to her and presses his lips to hers.

“Well what was that for? Not like m’complaining,” YN smiles when Harry rubs his nose against hers.

“You were under the mistletoe.”

YN looks up and laughs at the sight of the tiny plant hanging above them, "Did yeh put it under every doorway in our house?"

Our house.

Harry doesn't think he could ever get used to the sound of that and how it makes him feel all warm inside. He's in their house, sharing one roof as they make gingerbread houses together only two days before their first official anniversary since they became a couple. It all seems too good to be true, like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

"I sure did," He nods with a boyish grin. 

"If you wanted to kiss me a whole bunch all you have to do is ask," YN points out and smiles when he shakes his head.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

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[writtenjewels]

Mirage part 4

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

After Salim got cleaned up, Jason brought him back to the main room and made him finish the sports drink. He stayed close by until Salim was finished.

“I'll put this away,” Jason told him, indicating the rest of the fruit. “You just sit here and rest.”

“I've done so much resting,” Salim pointed out. “I would like to do something more active.”

“Well, if you're feelin' up to it, you could take a bath.” Jason wrinkled his nose playfully.

“That actually sounds like a wonderful idea.” Salim moved to stand up again but his legs were weak from lack of use.

Jason was by his side in a moment with an arm around him, keeping Salim upright. Salim noted how strong the man was before, but was more aware of it now that he felt Jason holding him. He was not a small man, but Jason was supporting his weight easily. It made Salim wonder if Jason had carried him to this place using only his own strength. Salim's heart beat a little faster as he imagined it.

He was left alone in the bathroom. Salim happily stripped off the clothes he'd been wearing for the past few days and turned on the water. There was no radio in here or scented oils or anything to make this a real bath, but just lying in the water would be enough after all Salim went through.

Salim let his thoughts drift as he soaked. How long had he been in this small cabin? So far he hadn't seen any time pieces around. His own body couldn't provide clues: he was still recovering, and he hadn't eaten in so long he wouldn't have cared if it was midnight. If Salim had to guess, he would say it'd been at least a day, maybe two.

He got out of the bath and toweled himself dry. His old clothes lay in a pile. The thought of putting those sweaty, sand-caked clothes back on made Salim shudder. He opened the door just enough to peer out. Jason was seated on the beanbag chair, deeply engrossed in a sketch. Salim found himself staring. Jason had a very nice profile. Salim's eyes followed along his brow, knitted in concentration, down the slope of his nose to his lips, corners lifted in a faint smile.

Jason paused in his sketch to turn toward the bathroom. “Salim, are you all right?”

“Yes.” His face felt a little warm. He hoped Jason hadn't noticed Salim staring at him. “I'm just not really looking forward to putting on these dirty clothes.”

“Well...” Jason cocked his head to one side. “It's either that, or wear somethin' of mine. Sorry.”

“If you don't mind.”

“Wait there.” Jason got up, disappearing into another room. A few minutes later he was back with an armful of clothes. He deposited them in front of the bathroom door. Salim stepped back, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. Jason barely glanced at the crack in the door before turning back to his beanbag chair.

Salim waited until the other man was engrossed in his drawing before grabbing the clothes. He dressed, having to do a fair bit of wiggling and tugging to get it all on. He and Jason were roughly the same height, but Salim was more broad. The clothes felt tight around his chest and hips in particular. Salim briefly debated on the possibility of staying in the bathroom.

Why was he feeling so self-conscious? Jason had found him on the brink of death and just watched him vomit in the toilet. This should be nothing. And yet the idea of Jason seeing evidence of Salim's bulkier size made him very nervous.

“Salim?” Jason called out to him. “You okay?”

“Yes, I, ah... I just need to... use the bathroom.”

This turned out to be true. It gave him a few more minutes to pull himself together before venturing out of the bathroom. He finally stepped out. Jason rose to his feet, presumably ready to help Salim should he need it. But he seemed frozen, his gaze locked on Salim. Salim could feel that gaze slowly traveling over his body. His face got warmer and his heart beat a little faster. Was Jason admiring him?

“You're standin' on your own two feet,” Jason observed. The comment, for some reason, made Salim's heart sink in disappointment. What was he hoping for, a compliment on his figure? It was ridiculous.

“I'm managing.” He placed a hand on the door-frame and leaned against it. “My legs still feel weak.” Jason was crossing the room in a moment, putting an arm around Salim to support him. Having him so close made Salim even more aware of how the clothes pressed tight against his skin. He prayed Jason wouldn't notice the blush.

“C'mon, I've got you. Go slow.” Together they moved to what had become Salim's spot in the room. “How's your stomach?”

“Less troubled.” Salim's eyes darted to Jason's face briefly. “I appreciate all of this.”

“I just wanna make sure you're okay.” Jason met his eyes and for a moment they were locked. Salim wanted to say or do something to get the man to smile. Jason looked away first, directing Salim to sit down. “I've got some saltine crackers,” Jason mentioned, “if you wanna try eating again.”

“I'm fine for now, thank you.” He felt the loss when Jason's touch lifted away. “May I see what you're drawing?” he requested.

“Not much to see yet. Maybe when it's more filled in.”

“I'll hold you to that, Jason.” Salim pulled his legs up to his chest and propped his chin on his knees. Jason returned to his chair once again and picked up the canvas he was working on. “You don't have much furniture,” Salim observed after a moment.

“Don't get many visitors,” Jason responded. He glanced up from his sketch to look at Salim. “It's just you and me.”

“Just you and me, huh?” Salim dropped his gaze, feeling fluttering in his stomach. “That's all right. Honestly, I'm just happy to see a human face.” It didn't hurt that Jason's was nice to look at.

“Yeah.” Jason's response was quiet, his focus turned back to the sketch. “Me, too.”

Salim's insides responded with more active fluttering. Good grief, he was acting so flustered around the man. Certainly he was grateful for everything Jason did, but to feel this way... It was silly, wasn't it? To notice how handsome and strong Jason was, to enjoy his voice and hope for his laughter, to still feel the ghost of his touch and want it again...

Maybe if he didn't acknowledge it, he could ignore these growing feelings.

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 86

Sam had driven into town to grab some necessities—groceries and cleaning supplies—leaving Steve and me alone at the cabin. After watching the sunset from the pier, we headed back inside. We both sat on the couch, unsure how to pass the time.

The evening chill had set in, and I rubbed my arms to stay warm. Noticing me shivering, Steve spoke up. “I can try to get the fireplace going if you’re cold.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, though my voice was far from convincing.

“It’s no big deal. Let me take a look,” he said with a small smile, getting up to crouch in front of the fireplace. The whole exchange felt awkward—like two strangers making forced small talk.

“It should warm up any minute,” Steve said, turning to me after coaxing a small flame to life in the fireplace.

“Thanks,” I replied with a smile, pulling my leg up onto the couch. Steve stood there, hands on his hips, returning the smile.

“Sam should be back any minute,” he added, and I hoped he was right.

As the room gradually grew warmer, I tried to get comfortable, but the couch was stiff and uncomfortable, even just sitting on it. The thought crossed my mind to ask Steve if he wanted to share the room with me, but even a simple conversation felt awkward right now—never mind sharing a bed.

Finally, the front door creaked open, and Sam walked in, carrying two large bags of supplies. Steve quickly stepped forward, taking one of the bags and carrying it into the kitchen, placing it on the table. I followed behind them.

“Any issues in town?” I asked as Sam took off his cap and sunglasses.

“No, everything went smoothly,” he replied, starting to unpack the groceries. I nodded and quietly stepped in to help.

Sam had brought an assortment of fruits and vegetables, a bunch of ramen packets, pasta, various cheeses, and plenty of chicken and beef. “We can freeze the meat, but leave some out for dinner,” Sam instructed. I nodded and started dividing the cuts, sealing most in freezer bags while setting aside some chicken breasts for tonight.

This all felt strangely domestic, almost enough to forget that we were hiding out from the government. Once everything was put away, Steve began cleaning up the dust-covered cabin while Sam and I started cooking.

I was chopping potatoes when Sam broke the silence, slicing the meat as he spoke. “How are you two getting along?”

“It’s a little awkward, but... it’s okay, I guess,” I replied, placing the potatoes into a casserole dish.

“Well, you're stronger than me,” he said with a laugh. “No way I could live in a secluded cabin with my ex-girlfriend.”

I paused, confused, mid-chop. “I mean, technically we’re on a break. Does that make him my ex? Did he tell you we’re broken up?”

Sam turned around, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “No, no, he did say you were on a break. But does that really make a difference? What would you call him if not your ex-boyfriend?” he asked.

I froze, my eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “I don’t know...” It was all too confusing. With a shrug, I resumed chopping the vegetables. “I don’t know, Sam. I really don’t,” I repeated, feeling exasperated.

I added the chopped vegetables to the casserole dish, and Sam followed with the meat before we placed it in the oven. Steve emerged from the bathroom, his hair disheveled, sleeves rolled up, and looking surprisingly good for someone who had just cleaned a toilet.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a grin. “Everything’s squeaky clean, so if nature calls, I suggest heading into the woods—I’d like to keep it that way,” he quipped.

“Very funny,” Sam replied, shaking his head. “Dinner will be ready in 40 minutes.” With that, he plopped down on the couch.

Steve approached me with an awkward smile as I removed my apron and hung it up. “Did you tell Sam we broke up?” I asked, my voice tense. His smile faltered, replaced by confusion as he shook his head.

“What? No, I didn’t,” he replied, clearly caught off guard.

From the living room, Sam’s voice rang out over the sound of the TV. “I can hear you guys!”

Frustrated, I huffed and grabbed Steve’s arm, pulling him into my room and shutting the door behind us. “What are we, Steve? We haven’t even been here a full day, and I already hate how things are.” I crossed my arms. “The politeness, the forced smiles—I hate it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So, you don’t want me to be polite? Or smile?”

“Not like that,” I replied, my shoulders tense. “Not when it feels fake.”

“I wouldn’t call it fake,” Steve said softly. “Things are just complicated. I’m just trying to make things feel normal.”

I nodded, still uncertain about what we were, but I didn’t want to press the issue further. If he didn’t want to answer, then so be it.

“Your room looks nice,” Steve said, glancing around as he sat down on my freshly made bed. I had unpacked the few clothes I brought a couple of books, the Alpine plushie, and the ladybug pin on the dresser.

“You can sleep here if you want,” I said, sitting down next to him. “The couch is way too small and uncomfortable.”

Steve raised a hand in a defensive gesture. “Oh no, that’s not why I said that—”

But I cut him off. “If you want things to feel normal, then you sleeping on the couch isn’t normal. So, sleep here. I don’t mind,” I said with a smile.

“If you’re sure?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s fine. The bed is big enough, and there’s plenty of space between us.”

He perked up at that like a kid permitted to eat sweets before dinner, though there was still a hint of disappointment in his expression that I couldn’t quite place.

We headed back out and settled in to watch TV in silence until dinner was ready. We ate at the kitchen table, with Sam doing most of the talking. I was grateful for his chatter; it filled the space and spared us from awkward silences.

After we were full, Sam opened a small dresser in the living room, revealing a collection of old board games. I had never really played board games before, but I was up for giving it a try. We decided on Monopoly, where the goal was to become the richest player.

After Sam explained the rules, we spent hours on the living room floor, laughing and playing. The cabin was filled with the lingering aroma of our delicious dinner, and the fireplace crackled warmly. For a moment, it almost felt like I could get used to this.

The moment of ease faded as bedtime approached. Sam had already retreated to his room, and Steve was in the bathroom. I paced around my bedroom, already dressed in sleep shorts and a shirt, feeling inexplicably nervous. We were just supposed to sleep, after all.

When Steve returned, he had a shy smile on his face, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white tank top. He still looked effortlessly handsome. “What side do you want to sleep on?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t mind either way.”

When he didn’t move, I walked over to the side closer to me. “The left side is fine,” I said, sitting down.

He sat down on the other side and slipped under the blanket, turning to face me. I followed, pulling the blanket over myself and breathing in the scent of freshly washed sheets.

Steve's gaze flickered to the Alpine plushie on my dresser, but he quickly looked away. “You still have it,” he said, his voice neutral.

“Of course I do. Did you expect me to throw it away?” I asked, frowning. I’d put it aside when he once shared his insecurities, but I would never get rid of it.

“No, no, of course not,” he replied, sounding sincere.

I got up, tossed the blanket off, and walked to the dresser. I picked up a small box next to Alpine and returned to the bed, handing it to him.

“I kept this too,” I said, urging him to open it. His expression softened as he recognized the box—it held the ladybug pin he’d given me on my 16th birthday. Slowly, he opened it, his smile growing at the sight.

“I remember that day like it was yesterday,” he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “I was so nervous when I gave it to you.”

Back then, I had thought it was just a friendly gesture, but in hindsight, I realized it meant so much more.

“It’s lost a bit of its shine, but it’s still beautiful,” I said, smiling to myself. “It was the first gift a boy ever gave me.”

“Really?” he asked, perking up in surprise. His reaction tugged at my heart, making me a little sad. So many of my firsts had been with Bucky—maybe this was one he was glad to have for himself.

The moment felt so tender and sweet that, for a second, I forgot everything else. “You’re special to me, Steve. Never forget that,” I said with a sad smile. No matter what had happened between us, he would always have a place in my heart.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek softly before he handed the box back to me with a gentle smile.

“Good night, Steve,” I said, placing the box on my nightstand and turning away to sleep. He switched off the light, his voice soft in the darkness. “Good night.”

Next Chapter

[tonberry-yoda]

Hi! How about Sir Crocodile from One Piece and their hard-working secretary (somebody needs to take care of all that paperwork! xD) Headcanons or a short story. Up tp you! Thanks!

Business - Crocodile

notes - I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY! Like I have been planning on how I wanted to write this and it all clicked one day, so the planning for this fic was a lot, I'll have you know that. Literally though, thank you so much for this request, I loved it so much!! I hope you're doing well and have a super day and don't forget to stay hydrated!!! <3

word count - 1,054

When Crocodile left to go out for "business", you were left with stacks of papers, all needing a signature from him. You had completed every single one, surprisingly, and now you were so bored at your desk that you began highlighting where Crocodile needed to put his signature in brightly colored ink.

You had expected him to be back way sooner, but for three weeks now, you've been sitting in complete boredom, having to make coffee only for yourself.

He hasn't done so much as called either, which was surprising. And whenever you tried to call him, he would never pick up and your transponder snail would just stare at you with an unamused expression.

You didn't want to say that you were getting concerned for your boss, as he was a man who could more than protect himself, but still. You couldn't help but hope that he was doing alright.

Well, if you were being fully honest with yourself, you were getting really worried. Almost in panic mode. If Crocodile was ever out this long, he would always make sure to call or send someone to tell you that he was okay, but you haven't heard a single word from anyone and it was eating away at you.

So, as a normal, and perfectly sane secretary, you slipped on a long jacket, put all of the paperwork into your bag, and went after Crocodile.

Did you know where he was? No. He had given you a small idea of where he could be, so you took that as enough and left.

And quickly, you regretted your decision.

Crocodile had told you that he wasn't going to be more than one island over, so you took a boat and ended up on a small island. And you had no clue where you were.

You thought it was a remote island, with nothing more than a couple of small cabins and fishermen, but when you travelled further, you ended up in not just any small town, but a whole city.

It was filled to the brim with people. People from everywhere, too. There were Marines, pirates, gamblers, bounty hunters, and dozens of other people you didn't feel like getting to know more than a glance.

You looked so out of place, wearing your work clothes of only a button up and slacks, while others around you looked like mafia bosses and dressed like they were going to a ball or something.

If Crocodile is here, you thought, sighing. He's probably got his ass arrested.

That, and he was probably going to be impossible to find.

You didn't want to ask anyone, since he was a literal wanted man everywhere he went, and you didn't want to go around calling his name out either.

He was a former warlord, who wouldn't recognize the name Crocodile?

You felt so lost in the city after what felt like hours, and it probably was, seeing as the sun was beginning to set.

"Dammit, Croc," you muttered under your breath. "Where the hell are you?"

When you got to the other side of the city, you decided to take a seat to try to get your bearings. This side was less chaotic, even if it was still full of people being a marketplace and all, so that was nice.

You took some deep breaths and tried to think if you were Crocodile, where would you be.

Probably in jail.

Dammit Crocodile.

You buried your face in your hands and immediately heard a familiar voice.

"I'll take six of those, please."

Your head immediately shot up and you smiled.

That son of a bitch.

The vendor handed Crocodile a bag of assorted fruits and you ran over to the former warlord, pulling him into a nearby, and surprisingly empty alleyway.

You laughed when you saw the veil that covered his face to hide his scar. You probably saw that bastard seven and a half times and didn't notice.

"y/n?" He tilted his head. "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure your ass was okay." you told him, poking his chest to emphasize your point.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Well I know that now! I wish you would've called or something, though."

"Sorry." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've just been really busy."

"It's fine." You lightly shook your head and got a good look at the man in front of you. "You know, you look pretty handsome like that. Good way of hiding."

"Thanks." he chuckled. "So, was that all you needed? Just to see if I was fine."

"Nope," you said slyly, opening your bag to reveal the giant stack of paper that needed his signature. "I brought work."

"Oh boy. Well, let's go back to my hotel room, then. Sorry again about not calling. How was the ride here?"

"Not bad," you admitted, pulling your bag over your shoulder and following Crocodile through the crowd of people, which was pretty easy considering how tall he was and very easy to spot. You still couldn't believe that you didn't find him sooner. "Finding you was the hard part."

"Sorry about that, too. I was planning on going back soon and even calling, but I've just been so full of work that I guess I forgot."

"I understand. And by work, you mean hiding from these Marines, right?" You gestured to piles of Marine officers getting drunk and shouting random numbers over a gambling table.

"Don't say that so loud!" Crocodile hissed before shaking his head and leading you into a small building.

You two were greeted by the hotel staff and you two quickly made it to his room. This island was so fancy, how have you never heard of it, let alone been here?

"So why did you come here?" you asked Crocodile, running your finger over a cabinet, no dust coming off at all.

"I needed to see an old friend."

"I'm guessing you're not going to tell me who that old friend is?"

"Nope." he chuckled, taking a seat on his bed, finally able to free his face from the veil. "Do you have a pen with you, y/n?"

You pulled out the giant stack of paper and three pens with a bright smile on your face. "Always!"

~~~~~

one piece masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[queer-little-demigod]

small things you do (percy jackson)

summary you spent your entire life protecting him, but when the time came, he couldn't protect you.

fic type angst/hurt

pairing percy jackson x fem!sister!reader

word count 1.5k

warnings tw! major character death, no happy ending, sibling death, sadness, reminiscence, mentions of percy hallucinating, it's just really sad, keep tissues around.

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune! be sure to check them out!

note flashbacks are all in italics and blue, your ghost speaks in bold. This is set before Sea of Monsters, but after Lightning Thief.

The day was bright, it was the week he was allowed to be home from boarding school. The sky was cloudless, cornflower blue, and the sea was just as vivid. The cabin was warm, it felt like home to him. He heard his mom in the kitchen, making blue cookies, he heard you singing horribly into a ladle pretending it was a microphone.

"Y/n, stop, you suck at singing!" He'd said from his perch on the kitchen island.

As usual it earned him a playful noogie and a laugh from you.

"I know I suck, Perce," you'd said. "But what kind of sister would I be if I didn't annoy you from time to time?"

Here he lay on his bed in an empty cabin, staring at the ceiling. That was a whole summer ago. It was a whole summer ago that he had teased you about your ridiculous singing abilities. He'd wanted to do it this time, too. But he couldn't.

He was dying on the inside. He was numb, he was hurting, he didn't know what was going on. He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Yet at the same time he felt like he was drowning in them.

A child of Poseidon can't drown, but the sea he was thrashing around in, trying to stay afloat, was his grief.

'Let it go,'

He heard your voice in his head, he thought he saw you sitting on the bed beside his, he could've sworn on any god to name that he saw you in that dark blue flannel you adored, the one your girlfriend Janine had given you, sitting on the bed with that lopsided smile on your face.

He felt like he was going crazy.

'I can't,' he thought. 'If I did, that would mean I'm letting go of a part of me,'

"Perce, mom said I need to get groceries for her, you wanna come with?" You'd said, knocking on his bedroom door after he'd gotten in trouble at school again.

"No," he'd said, clearly in a sour mood. He chucked his baseball against the wall and caught it again, looking utterly dejected.

You didn't take his 'no' as an answer. You instead heaved him up off his feet, ignoring his protests, and dragged him to the store.

"Honestly, I hate bananas," you'd said randomly. "Bananas are such brainless fruits,"

He'd tilted his head in confusion. "What?"

"Like, think about it, they have skins that peel away completely, they're uninteresting, bland, and they're exactly like that trashy science teacher of yours, " you'd nonchalantly said. "Characterless, stupid, and plain outdated,"

That had made him laugh. You alway sknew one way or another, how to brighten his gloomiest days.

"Let's grab some nice blue food colouring and vanilla ice cream," you'd said, putting in as many candies as he'd liked into the shopping cart. "And then we can go home and make our own type of sad-day sundaes, and be sad together. How does that sound?"

"I like that idea," he'd grinned broadly. "How'd you know that's what I had in mind?"

"I'm your sister, Perce," you'd winked at him. "I always know."

He was back to reality, in his cabin, maybe seeing your ghost beside him. Cruel mind games, of course.

"Why'd you have to take the fall?" He asked, staring at your silent 'ghost'. You shrugged, leaning your elbows on your knees, hands clasped together.

"I have to protect you," you said. "Always. No matter the cost."

"I could've saved myself, firstly, and the cost, was your life!"

"I know. And because of that cost, you're here today, alive,"

The first time you'd come to his rescue was way back when he was around five years old on the playground, and you were ten.

A few nosy twelve year olds had decided that picking on a random kid on the swings seemed to be a good idea.

Till Y/n Jackson made them regret it.

"You gonna cry?" One of the 12-year-olds had asked Percy after having shoved him off the swings. Taunt after taunt till he was reduced to tears.

However, just as you had noticed him on the sandy, disgusting ground, you stood up and marched over to the boys with a look of such fury on your face that it rivalled even Sally Jackson's.

The dialogue for him was a blur, because he was having trouble focusing in the moment with the amount of shouting and yelling.

All he remembered was you grabbing one of the boys' hair and slamming their nose into your knee before the punches rained down on you.

He stood in the kitchen, icing his head where he'd hit it on the ground after being shoved off the swings, while his mom patched up your bleeding nose, cut-up knees, and bloodied knuckles.

"--Twice your height, two years older, what were you thinking?" Sally asked, in her usual tone. No anger, just curiosity. She always sought to understand rather than reprimand.

"I wasn't," you said in the plain way you always did. "I just knew they hurt my brother."

"Don't you know how much you're hurting me now?" He asked, glaring at you. "I can't sleep, because I see you screaming at me and Grover to run. I can't think properly without hearing your stipud voice in my head, I can't even live peacefully because I know that you didn't make it past the barrier that day because you had to distract the minotaur. The minotaur that wanted me."

He was angry now. He was burning with anger like the fire that burned in Ares' eyes, like the fire that melted the metal in a forge. He wanted to hit you, he wanted to claw out your eyes, he wanted to grab your wrist that day and make you run with him.

"I know, Perce, I know," you smiled calmly. "But regretting that day, playing it back over and over like a broken record won't make me come back."

"I hate you for that," he said. He felt the tears, he felt his dam breaking. He felt himself start to go under. "I hate you so much for just standing there in the rain, screaming for me and Grover to run. I hate you for not being able to block the minotaur's hit. I hate you for leaving me here alone!"

A small smile spread over your ghostly features. "Honestly, I know you do. You're angry, Perce. You're angry with me, and you have every right to be. But think: if I had made it that day, would you have figured out how to make a name for yourself here at camp on your own?"

That day was the worst day of his entire life, hands down.

The rain was coming down in sheets, the minotaur was roaring loudly, having already crushed Sally Jackson's body into golden dust.

"Percy! Grover!" Your voice came through the torrential rain's loud rush, and the deafening claps of thunder overhead. "Run up the hill! I'll hold off the minotaur!"

"No! I'm not leaving you!" Percy had said indignantly. "You're coming with us!"

"If I do, then all three of us are just about as good as DEAD!" you'd exclaimed, prying his hand off your wrist.

You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his head quickly. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me! Just GO!"

"Y/N--"

"I'll meet you in the morning!" You'd winked, before shoving him back towards Grover and charging at the monster, your fierce battle cry echoing through the rain.

You didn't meet him that morning. You didn't see him at all, because you were carried in on a stretcher with a white cloth draped over your body. Red bloodstains showed on the spotless cloth, and you lay motionless on the bed in the infirmary while one of the older Apollo kids prepped you for cremation.

Percy's heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.

He tore his throat open screaming, he made his palms bloody and knuckles red with the amount of times he clenched his fists and beat at the ground or wall.

His whole heart felt odd, beating at a rhythm which was unfamiliar to him. He felt like his arm had been chopped off, like one of his organs was missing.

His heart was beating, blood flowing, his pulse in his neck, but he wasn't alive. Not really.

His skin tingled with the weight of your hug, he felt the ghost of your lips against his temple. He hated the feeling, but he wanted it to linger.

"You always protected me," he whispered to your ghost. "But the one time I had to protect you, my sister, I couldn't."

"Because protecting me wasn't your job, Perce," you said. "You loved me, that was enough."

Before he could reply, he blinked and your ghost had vanished.

He didn't have you to hug him, tell him it was alright, then take him for ice cream. He didn't have you to dust him off and patch your own wounds up later. He didn't have you to tease about horrible singing, he didn't have you.

He just had the small things you'd do.

hi! it's me, lea! i hope you enjoyed this oneshot, and feel free to request! i apologise for how sad this was, i'm in my sad writing era now, tee hee :> i love you all!