#ph fanfic

[sunniskyies]

𝐎𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a haunting nightmare, you seek the only person who brings you comfort 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧���: Finnick Odair x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Wounds, blood, burns, nightmares, implied trauma, cursing 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff, angst(?), plentiful clichés, boyfriend!finnick 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: Omg I am so bad at writing anything except violence. Bear with me while I learn how to write fluff :,)

You’re halfway up the slick ladder, Katniss at the top offering her hand and Gale right below you. You’re panting hard, the mutts have caught up with the group and are now snapping at the base of the ladder.

“Y/N!” You hear a blood-curdling scream. You freeze, searching frantically in the darkness for a sign of him.

“Finnick!” You wail, and you’re replied to by another scream. You thought he was already at the top!

Above you, Katniss shines a light down on the pool of writhing bodies, and you can make out the golden skin of Finnick, three mutts tearing at his leg while he clings to the bottom rung.

An unearthly sound slips through your lips, and you begin to desperately climb back down the ladder. However, Gale shoves you roughly back up, Katniss and Cressida hoisting your thrashing body onto the platform. “Stop! No! We have to go back!” You sob, trying to wriggle out of their grasp.

Finnick’s head resurfaces from the tidal wave of pale bodies, his hands gripping two rungs as he begins to pull himself out of the mutts’ clutch.

“M’ sorry,” Katniss mumbles, half to you, half to Finnick. Hissing ‘nightlock’ three times, she drops the Holo over the edge and into the melee.

“No! He was just getting out-” Your shriek is cut off by the bomb going off, a blast of hot air searing your skin.

Clutching damp bedsheets, you jerk upright. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, your lungs taking heaving gulps of air. The room is still, the air is cool, and morning light streams in through the sheer curtains. No trace of the dank, dark tunnels you were just in.

You scrabble at your clammy skin, relieved to find none of the burns that once were. You sigh, letting your quivering frame fall into the nest of pillows and sheets.

You’re at home, lying in the bed you and Finnick share. It’s okay, you’re safe, it’s okay, it’s not real, you repeat to yourself like a mantra. That’s what Finnick tells you to do. Soon the pounding of blood in your ears quietens, replaced by the comforting silence of the bedroom.

The room actually isn’t completely quiet. A hum of crackling oil and soft singing trickles through the door left ajar, and your legs slip you out of bed and carry you out into the kitchen.

The remaining tenseness in your chest dissolves at the sight of Finnick cooking at the stove, the back of his familiar blond head greets you.

You softly pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You grasp at the loose white shirt he’s clad in, scared that he will disappear.

The sound of his deep chuckle reverberates softly through your head, your cheek pressed up against his back. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. How did you sleep?”

You swallow thickly. You don’t want him to know you’re still having nightmares, not after all these years. “Good. Whatcha cooking?” You say, trying to plaster sweetness over the wobble in your voice.

But of course, he knows you far too well to fall for that. Pausing for a moment as his brow furrows, his arms detangle yours and he pulls you around to face him. 

“Are you- whoa,” he pauses as his sea-green eyes clasp onto yours.

What?- oh.

You’ve got tears in your eyes. How had you not noticed? Are they fresh, or did you wake up with them?

“Sweetness, what’s wrong?” He asks, concerned. His calloused fingertips gently cup your face, thumbs gently brushing your waterline. You open your mouth to ensure you’re fine, but no words come out. Your eyes scrunch up, and you settle for a shake of your head.

Unsatisfied, Finnick's hands travel down to your waist, lifting you up and onto an empty countertop. His body presses close to yours, and your foreheads are touching as his thumbs brush invisible tears off your cheeks.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He murmurs. You still haven’t opened your eyes, afraid fresh tears will fall if you do.

A finger under your chin, Finnick coaxes your eyes open with that unbearably smooth voice he has, his dimples materialising when your eyes finally meet his. They were probably tired and bloodshot, but the way Finnick looks at you, you might as well be a rare and priceless work of art, his features soft and syrupy with adoration.

“Was it that dream again?” He hums, his voice soft and laced with honey. Of course he already knew. He was just doing you the courtesy of letting you tell him yourself.

“Yeah,” you whisper hoarsely. “It’s been coming back a lot lately. I just can’t stop seeing it.”

Soft lips press themselves against that furrowed line between your brows, smoothing out the tension in your face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Finnick murmurs, those endlessly green eyes staring into yours. You flush.

“Because I’m not the one who experienced it! I’m not the one who should be having nightmares!” You know that beneath the brown pants he's wearing, his legs bear teeth marks and his back sports skin grafted over burns. Scarless yes, but similarly to your own, the skin will never look quite right.

There's that heart-melting smile again. “Silly girl. What do you mean shouldn’t?” His voice is dulcet, soothing. “You watched the whole thing happen. I can’t imagine what that was like, and I mourn every day that you have to live with it.”

You shake your head again. “But you-”

“-Went numb as soon as it started happening. My brain stopped registering the pain pretty quick. If I had been up there instead, unable to do anything but watch you die, that would have been so much worse.” Finnick says, cutting you off.

Your eyes swim with tears, and you lean deeper into the man standing before you. If his smile could deepen, it did, a hand cupping your face like a precious jewel.

Salty, warm lips press against yours, his other hand pulling your waist into him. You feel like a kettle of warm water has been poured over you, trickling down into every inch of your body. You melt into him further, the kiss deepening before Finnick abruptly pulls away.

The hurt you feel quickly evaporates when Finnick spins around, shouting “Shit! The omelette!”

He pulls the pan off the heat and slides the omelette’s slightly singed halves onto a pair of plates. He quickly garnishes it, beautifully, and slides one along the counter to you.

“I hope your dreams go away soon. You don’t have to worry about me.” He returns to his spot in front of you, finishing the abandoned kiss with a peck. “I managed to climb out of there okay. Albeit a bit burnt, but okay nonetheless.”

You snort. “Like the omelette.” You take a meaningfully huge bite of your breakfast, making a dramatic satisfied sound. Finnick erupts into laughter.

“Yeah, like the omelette.” He grins. You go to take another bite off your fork, but a finger gently pushes it down and his lips connect to yours instead.

“Attention stealing from a piece of food, Odair? That’s a new level of smitten.” You grin against his lips. You feel him smile back.

“And proud of it, too!”

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[clalog]

Friendly Collaboration pt.11

Paring: hokeyplayer!sunghoon × onlyfan!reader

Genre: social media!au; academical rivals; smut

Worming: only fans use; smut (mdni please); swearing; probably grammar mistakes (not English speaker/dyslexic)

Synopsis: Sunghoon get obsessed with a only fan creator he casually find on a stressed day and he truly believes he is in love with her even if he never see her face. He doesn't know that behind the screen is his university rival and he doesn't know what kind of deal they'll make

Previous | Next

-I come as fast as I can- Sunghoon said all worried, as if something serious had happened. You find it funny, you never through he would be enthusiastic on the idea of meeting you.

You walk in your room without saying anything and he just follow you there, like a lost puppy. -Sit- You said pointing at the bed and he did, again no question, you are liking it, is a good feeling.

-Your face are not going to be showed- He noded. -I decide everything- He noded. -Want to ask something?- -No- Your mind stop for a couple of second. you have an idea of what to do but you are still not sure if you want this. Sunghoon in objectively beautiful, the way every components of his face is positioned in a perfect way as if he was drow on using a grill as a guideline. There would not be anything wrong on wanting that lips on you, nothing wrong.

You just go sit on him, your leg on each side. He was surprise by your sudden action, but he welcomed you positioning his arm around your waist, not holding you, more as if he was resting them there. You look at him, this close you notice a small mole on the side of his nose, the cutest things on his face on your opinion.

You kiss him, not slow, already passionate, already testing the way he decide to react, how he would use his tongue in respond of yours. He have some second of hesitation but he was fast as passionate as you were. His hand now actually holding you, trying to make you closer to him. An electric sensation go from the bottom of your back to your neck and then it extend on the rest of your body. Now was your time to try to get closer to him, as if you weren’t already.

Then you suddenly stop, brutally. That was too much, maybe because it was your first kiss with Sunghoon but it was enough. His lips was a little bit open, as if he was still waiting for yours to come back. -This could work.-

You get up positioning the camera on the floor. You still feel Sunghoon lips and hands on you but you try to keep it cool, is no problem since you would feel that again soon.

-I was think about a little pov. I do a video about masturbating about my tutor so we can play as if you were the tutor in question- You explained to him and the fact that you hear him laughing makes you a little angry. What does he have to complain? You are the expert here, is your only fans, is your channel so your idea, your business. When you look at him with an angry face he but his hand in the air. -Sorry, sorry, is just… “masturbating after a study section with the class nerd” is the fist video i saw for yours. Crazy how destiny work- -More like a causality- You put some book on the floor and point to him to sit there and he did. You prefer him like this, when he do everything you said without any comment or question.

-What do you want me to do?- He ask shyly looking at the camera that just started recording. -Nothing, just trust me, ok?- he noded fast making you laugh.

You start kissing him again, the same sensation of before was all around your body. You know the kiss was not visible in the camera but the closeness of the body would and you need to set him in the mood. That was the reason why your hand goes slowly in between his legs, you did not grap it just position yourself there, breaking the kiss for looking at Sunghoon. -Yes, please- after his confirmation then you start holding his dick on his pents first. He close his eyes let his head go back, leaning on the bad. You like the way he was already loosing himself, you like it that much that you have to change your position for close your legs and give yourself some friction know that you were getting wet. You start kissing his neck carefully not leaving any mark, you don’t want to hear his joke if you did it.

When your hand goes under his pents and boxer he made a loud noise. -Shh, it’s ok, can you let me play a little?- His Dick was hot at touch, you can feel it, long and thin. -Please- He said once again, that’s the only word you want him to said to you. You take his dick out pushing his pents and boxer a little bit down so it would be easier. You start kissing him and do an handjob at the same time so he can moan in your month.

-Take off everything- You make the order and he executed while you keep watching his haste on the act. He was not lying with the photo, his body look like porcelain, sculpted but not like a gym rat, more like selfcare exercise man cause he want to look good for female gaze, for your gaze.

Then he get his hands on you shirt too, making you take a step away, surprise. -What? You said take of everything, you didn’t specify on who so automatically, it’s both of us- His smirk was hot. You should have know that he would make fun of you a little, he always did. Slowly he comes closer to you all naked and needy, kiss you softly and whispering -Can I- While holding your shirt but one finger, only one, was gently caressed you under it, the chills started at that exact point and went to spread throughout your body. Automatically you noded without stop to look at his eyes who you just notice, never look this dark. You helped him getting you naked, wonder when the table turn; you were the one in charge, how dare him?

Once he finish, you kiss him, so he can’t see you start touching yourself, collecting all your wetness in your hand making purposely loud moan on his month. Your little revenge idea was making you even hornier so you where able to collect a lot of your precome.

After a while you stop both action and smirk at him before putting your hand on his tip making him feel you wetness transfer from your hand to his tip. After looking down you just notice he was holding his base, what a beautiful visual your viewers probably had of you two masturbating while kissing, this is really going to be the best video on your channel.

-What is this?- Seunghoon ask without breath. -It’s me, I can’t touch you bare I need a lubricant so I use myself, want some?- You show him your hand and after some moment of hesitation he lick it. -I think you get mixed up with me- He said know that your precome and his get together in your hand. You notice what he was trying to do and you would not make him get power over you again. -Let me taste- you goes take him in your month. The taste was weird on you tongue, you can clearly understand that there was two different flavors, one almost tasteless at first, but you can feel a bitter aftertaste; the other was too salty, you never know come can taste salty.

You keep doing your blowjob while Seunghoon keep cursing and moaning, you look at him cause the way he turn his eyes backward make you want to give him more, make him so addicted to you that when other girls would try to give him a blowjob he would not even get hard.

You don’t even want to know where this feeling of possessiveness come from, but he ask you to starting this friendly collaboration so there is nothing wrong on wanting obedience.

You where giving him small cat licks when something thin enter you. One finger uncontrollably makes you moan, you give the fault to the exiting of what you where doing and feeling. When the second finger enter you stop your mouth action but keep give him pleasure with your hand. He was so attentive on his finger entering you that he almost didn’t notice you where looking at him. He was red, but not red with embarrassment, red as if he was running a marathon.

-I’m close, can you come with me?- His eyes was open fully, begging you for doing this one favor to him and you would, cause he is the one asking you.

You change position, one in front of the other, he now have three fingers inside you and you were stroking him fast. He start kissing under you hear making you moan louder, hopefully he didn’t understood that is your weakest spot. Your body was so close that your nipples was rubbing on his chest and, as if he know that was the only missing things for making you reach your peak, he start circoling your clint with his thumb.

You stop your action while you where coming on Seunghoon’s hand not making any sound if not you full open month.

You basically fall exhausted on his shoulder so you look at him while his finger come out of your entrance and he use your come for touching himself coming only a couple of second after you.

Seunghoon help you lie down on the ground, breathless but with his arm under you head and his come all over you belly. You close you eyes; you did all of this with Seunghoon? Pain in the ass Seunghoon? And it was fucking good.

You where getting wat again just thinking of it. You want more, but not today, for today it was enough.

You heard him move, turning towerd you, feeling his breath on you face. -Do you want me to clean you up?- You shake your head. -No, I’m dying here, thanks you very much- You keep you eyes closed but the sound of his small laugh was cute, even without seeing his smile with it.

Then the memory of the camera hit you, not that it was a problem, you would edit the video later, cuting eventualy moment where your face was seen end modifying the voice a little, but you can’t have like a 4 hours of you just try to breath again.

-Can you stop the recording, please- he makes a sound of disapproval but his arm left the back of your head. You feel him moving in your room, then you get picked up bridal style, now was your time to make sound of disapproval. -You need to get cleaned up- He said walking out of your room.

There was only one bathroom on your apartment, but for today it was not a problem since none of the girl was there utile later on. You open your eyes when your butt check touch the cold surface of the side of the sink. He ask for a towel for himself first then another one for you later. You looks at him be complity delicate while cleaning you. His pale body was worthy the name prince of ice, full of moles, but you find yourself keep thinking that the nose one is your favorite.

That was the moment when you have a reminder of his previews action he need a smole punishment so you use your long nails and hold a peace of his sholder on two of them before hold tight. After some second he jumps in pain, touch where you left two half moons bleeding. -What was that for?-. -I tell you I was in charge and you agree- After understanding what you mean his shocked face become a grin. -I do everything you say- He justify, butting himself between you legs. -You change my word known exactly what I mean-

-You let me do it-

-Then you try to steal the dominance-

-Me? Never-

-I know what you where doing with the all taste thing-

-You misunderstand me-

-And you touch me- He position himself better, straight his back. -I was couch in the moment, I should have ask consent for that. I’m sorry- You was not talking about that you were just thinking about the way he was trying to steal you dominance with that action too, trying to making you needy for him and not the other way around. You hold his face with your hand. -If I didn’t want that, I would have not let you continue that. But want to makes clear one thing, I make the rules-

-As you wish- He said before kissing you, again you let him be, you like his kiss anyway.

When the kiss stop you start making the rest of the rules clear -Rule number one is like the fist commandment; you would never have another God other then me.- -So we are exclusive?- -If you want to date or have sex with other people, then we broke our friendly collaboration, as you like to call it. I don’t want to be involved in some drama cause of good sex- -Good sex already? We don’t even have sex today- You position your nails on the same spot of before and hurt him again, he fast remove your hand. -Ok, no joke, jesus- -Guess the second rule- -You are the boss?- -Exactly- -Other rules?- He ask showing you a smily face. -Not for now- You stop looking at him. He would challenging you like this all the time, he would fight for the dominance making you do what he want and you know that, even if he agree now he is faking it, and you can’t wait for it, you want this, the idea just exited you.

-Then we have a deal?-

-We have a deal star-

Serie Masterlist | ClaLog Masterlist

⚠️This is a work of fiction, every reference of character sexuality or personality are from the mind of the author for plot purposes and DO NOT describe the real life person

⚠️Everything on this fiction is from the mind of the author, the stolen of the story or parts of it is punishable by law

All banners made by @cafekitsune

Tag List Open

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[kalolasart]

Illustration for chapter 59. The commitment from Paper Hearts Black Clover fan fiction.

[i4nmura]

(★) atriz de cinema; heeseung

♡︎ indisponível / don’t repost

✎ 30.08.24 | cr. @nishimurallery

[stuckinamok]

I wrote it down how I picture it happening

Okay because I've been recently hooked on the webtoon, Purple Hyacinth, and I was just listening to some music while I was working--

The song "More Days Like This" by Asleep at the Wheel came up and I was just imagining an animatic of Kym singing this to Williame, and Kieran singing this to Lauren, as a duet, teasing them endlessly, emphasizing certain lyrics. Like, imagine a karaoke night-it would be glorious

[carnalasada]

T’hy’la.

Something more than anything, something made of everything. And if that was what Spock wanted…Jim’s entire body shuddered with the aftershocks of one final thrum of the glowing golden cord inside him. He could feel himself calling out to Spock, beckoning back, just as sure, just as hungry, just as ready. He was crying out to be caught, mid-fall, dead center of his spiral into the open plane of the starry sky. To be caught just long enough for him to plant his feet and hit the ground running on this new, uncharted terrain, the forever of the place where their minds met and mingled and the twin cords of their uttermost selves unraveled and twined themselves back together. He was already fraying when his arms wrapped around Spock’s neck, gasping as the motion pulled Spock’s lips back against his neck. Everything. T’hy’la. If Spock wanted everything, Jim wanted more. If Spock wanted everything, Jim wanted whatever there was beyond it. If Spock wanted everything, he’d have to claim it, or he wouldn’t have anything at all.

- (1) New Message by TokyoRose_2006

[bawdza]

"I'll take abandonment issues for 100 Alex"

[e-adlirez]

Actually made a drabble this time

Summary says all, haha

If you need a bit of context, Professor Plotfur is a character from the Thea Stilton Mouseford Academy books, as part of the school's new Performing Arts department :3

[kanouseis]

let me read to you your defeat

📜 pandora hearts

📜 elliot/oz

📜 highschool au, silly fluff, repressed feelings

📜 rated g

📜 1.7k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52651852

[libidinous-weeb]

“he loves to cum inside your walls” what the fuck is he doing in my walls? the insulation in this apartment is already piss poor. if he wants to cum in my walls he better start paying the motherfuckin rent

[fivekrystalpetals]

My thoughts for Retrace XLVII - Retrace XLVIII

Okay, so after these two chapters, I had a sudden realization that Oz is actually super smart. To say, I knew he was smart but to ad-lib or basically bullshit his way into the mansion in the possession of an influential guy from a neighboring country is just... wow lol.

I was cheering for him all along because he really, efficiently managed the whole Isla Yura business all by himself. The very reason everyone got to get into his secret castle was Oz. Isla Yura, being a person of another country, meant Pandora can’t even have a seize-and-search sort of warrant either.

The plan went something like this—

a. Jack Vessalius No.1 fan, Isla Yura would extend an official invitation to Oz to visit his mansion (where they suspect the third seal is hidden) if he brings out his inner Jack from within him.  

b. Oz does a perfect personification of Jack and recites a poem he had memorized from the papers given by Ryatsu (hold on, this means they had really formed a cult revolving around Jack??? I wasn’t wrong?!) Even their emblem is based on the description in the poem. 

I believed it was Jack, okay? I really believed Jack had popped out when Oz tried to stab himself. But then—

—he got me good grrr! I love his expressions here, and yes, Rufus Barma you too did your part (sigh he is needy for attention lol)

c. But the next problem is that only Oz has been invited to the mansion and he needs to get everyone in there so that they can hunt for the Seal together. A problem which he once again handles resourcefully. Well it isn’t exactly a lie that his first Coming-of-Age ceremony had been interrupted by the Baskervilles and that he never got to the end. 

d. Isla Yura offers to organize the second Coming-of-Age ceremony at his mansion (for his own purposes too ofc) 

e. annnnd Mission Complete!

I had the same expression as Gil here lmao—

2] When Alice sniffed at Elliot, my first thought had been—ooooh, more evidence for my Elliot being next Glen theory???

(unfortunately that theory is debunked now ofc) but this too was quite a bit of foreshadowing.

It’s a neat detail that Alice, a chain, could detect the presence of an illegal chain inside Elliot that he himself was unaware of; however, she couldn’t place it right away (had she figured it out earlier, could the tragedy have been avoided, I wonder? But the hand will continue to move whether they like it or not, right? Maybe, they could have killed Humpty-Dumpty before the hand moved back to the starting point? idk. Just me still sad that this too-precious-for-this-world boy was to meet with such an end *flips table and jumps out of the window*)

3] What a beautiful picture!

Somehow it makes me more worried about what’s coming up for them for the future :(( already one down, ten to go lol 

Oz is the only one smiling properly at the camera; Gil and Alice bickering as usual. Sharon wants Alice to call her Mom Big Sis. Break is trying to act cool and failing. Reim, smile properly at the camera, what’s with that :> smile lol? Uncle Oscar has adopted the entire town by this point, I am sure. Somebody pat Echo's head please! Elliot, cut out your tsundere act and join the others!

Well, let me end this small post with this picture of Elliot and Oz nostalgic fist bump TT_TT me sobbing over all the what-could-have-been-s

[natsumeisu]

Why i have this intense urge to seek out for stupid gay love at night

[philsmeatylegss]

There isn’t a topic that just briefly discussing it will bring me to tears except for pet death (especially dogs). I’m reading a fucking dan and phil fanfiction from like 2015 where there’s a fake dog called brownie who dies and I’m in fucking tears. If a see a ten second video on tiktok about a dog who passed, water works. If I feel like I need to cry, that’s what I look at. Every time it never fails. Do you know what that’s like??

[edenslice]

heylo ☾ and ✌(for the ask game)

haiii ^_^

☾ (favorite word from your language)

- hiwatig + nagpapahiwatig ; hiwatig means 'hint' and nagpapahiwatig means 'indicating' in tagalog! idk i just like how mystical it sounds

✌️ (favorite proverb/saying from your language)

- mamamatay rin naman tayong lahat (we're all gonna die anyways)

not a saying anyone should be using in a daily basis nor it is a proverb but it does serve as a motivation 4 me n my classmates LMAO

[morimess]

I knew I was coming up on my 1 year anniversary of my Linebeck obsession- but I think this is the exact day I actually started writing fanfiction for him...

So happy 1 year anniversary of me being in the PH fandom specifically for that wet, rat bastard of a man.

[sunniskyies]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Here !! 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: More than a year after your unexplained disappearance, Percy finds you again on a rainy Christmas night. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson  x Calliope!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of grief? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff, Reunion trope, kind of established relationship 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: IT’S BEEN OVER THREE MONTHS SINCE I GOT THIS REQUEST I'M SORRY— SCHOOL. I’ve ended up changing this rec quite a bit, but I hope those reading still enjoy it <3

It’s not that Percy didn’t like the rain, it’s just there was so much of it. Fat droplets hung from his skin and hair, Manhattan lighting him up like a disco ball. His jacket and shirt were saturated, and his fingers were so frigid they struggled to remain clutched around his skateboard and the brown paper bag. Percy Jackson, Son of the Sea God, thwarted by winter weather.

He should have been back at home half an hour ago, well before the Christmas rain had come. But his route home from the skate shop passed by a bakery, and the smell of fresh madeleines had stopped him in his tracks. A ripple of emotion sank through his body at the familiar scent, one he hadn’t smelt in well over a year. His neighbourhood didn’t have any proper pâtisseries, so he’d never had to smell the baked good, as they were never made. This batch must be some kind of Christmas special.

He slowly turned to look in the window, the warm light cutting through the twilight and sinking into his tan skin. He took a deep breath and pushed inside to the toasty interior.

The bakery was contentedly full; a mother grinning as her two young children excitedly pointed at items in the cabinet, a businessman buying holiday treats for his family, two teenage girls hip-to-hip sipping hot cocoas and kissing chocolate mustaches off eachother. Percy’s green gaze drifted behind the counter where a young baker held a tray of sugar-encrusted madeleines.

The picture of a girl his age slipped uninvited into his mind, as the memories always did. She was curled up in a nest of duvet and quilt, nibbling a madeleine with a book propped up on her knees. Percy’s nose was buried in the hair around her neck, reading lazily over her shoulder with sleep-heavy eyes.

“They’re the best! They’re hand-sized and not messy, so you can eat them while reading!” The sweet-toothed girl had told him once. Ever since then, Percy had made the effort to ask for the little cakes from the camp kitchen and sneak the contraband back to her. He was rewarded with kisses that tasted like brown sugar and lemon, and gooey eyes that left the pages for a moment.

The haze of remembrance cleared, and Percy Jackson was standing in a hole-in-the-wall Manhattan bakery once more. The room was oven-warmed, but he now was cold from the inside out, a hunger that couldn’t be satiated even if he ate every baked treat in the shop. 

The mother and her sons passed by him, their laughs disappearing back into the evening, the open door cooling the space a fraction. Percy took another steadying breath and approached the counter.

“Four madeleines, please.” For old-time’s sake.

The detour had cost him his dry clothes. The rain had started coming down pretty much as soon as he left the bakery, and here he was, soaked and clutching a brown paper bag of sponge cakes he wasn’t even sure he would be able to choke down.

He held the parcel beneath his damp jacket, not wanting to lose the precious smell. Most shops in this neighbourhood had shut for Christmas, so he was surprised when he turned a corner to find the dark street bearing a pool of warm light.

The light belonged to an old, second-hand bookstore. He’d never seen it here before. Similarly to the bakery, its glow was enticing. Percy’s jaw clenched, and he looked up to the sky, thinking. The raindrops seemed fatter still. He was almost home, but this weather was miserable. Surely he could step inside for a moment, dry off and then walk the rest of the way? Something about the shop was drawing him in inexplicably.

He really hoped this shop wasn’t a trap, and that he’d just simply never noticed it before. He didn’t feel like fending of monsters tonight, but his fingers still danced over his pocket where Riptide was nestled as he jogged up the door and walked through the door with a cheery ‘ting’ of the bell.

It smelled like old paper and that scent you find when you press your face into a woollen garment and inhale. Like home and libraries and textbooks. The air was chilly, only a rattling little heater sat in the corner trying to warm the space. A space that seemed… bigger on the inside than it had from the street. Percy drifted over to one of the towering shelves, lined with old tomes. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he ran a calloused finger along a bevelled spine. It read:

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡; 𝐀 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Except the title was written in Ancient Greek.

Percy could read it fine, the question was what was it doing here? As he looked at the rest of the shelf, he realised every single one was written in Greek. They had classics like Homer, but also creative pieces and essays and thesis’ and novels. It was identical to a normal indie bookstore, just in Ancient Greek.

Percy was so absorbed in examining the spines that he didn’t notice someone coming up beside him.

“How can I help you?” A girl's voice spoke. “Oo! Are those madeleines? I adore madeleines!” Percy jumped and whipped around to see a young girl with a sparkly smile and warm, sugary eyes. When their eyes met, however, both faces slackened. Who recognised who first one couldn’t say, but both felt that familiar ache erupt alongside a chariot-full of unidentifiable feelings.

Her hair was different, and she wasn’t wearing that too-big orange shirt, but he’d recognise that girl anywhere. In a heartbeat. For the rest of time. Undoubtably, wholly, you.

You.

A squeak slipped from your lips, your e/c eyes as wide as the moon. Distantly, Percy heard the thud as the skateboard and paper bag slipped from his hand, but all he could comprehend was the sight of you standing in front of him. For the first time in his life, it felt like his ADHD brain shut off, everything around him dimming into a blurry vignette, your face in stark clarity. You were saying something, he knew that. Your lips were moving fast, eyes flickering. An explanation, maybe. An apology for running away without a word. But Percy couldn’t care less at that moment, only thinking about how you’re alive, you’re alive, you're alive.

He could feel his feet taking him closer to you, and yours carrying you backwards.

“Please, Percy! Say something!” He heard you plead, your fingers twisted together painfully. “I’m sorry I did it, but you understand right? You have to un—”

Rain-cooled fingers slipped amongst your hair, flushed lips crashing into yours. One arm cradled the small of your back, battle-strong and intent on holding you close to him.

Explanations can wait. Apologies can wait, the arguments can wait. All that mattered was that the ache was over, Percy thought giddily. That grief that had stained every inch of him was washed off with one glance of you. 

Even without the madeleines, you still taste sweet. Like citrus and sugar. Your skin smelt like parchment and enchanted Greek ink, a scent lingering from hours pouring over a typewriter. His face pressed so close into yours, he could almost smell every word you had written.

What were you thinking? Is this okay? His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could feel it, but your arms were around his neck and your breath was pooling together, damp clothes pressed against dry. Twin flames flickering together.

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