#(please give us bus driver skin)

[cheollipop]

calico

navi | taglist

pairing: ex!yoon jeonghan x bartender!reader

w.c.: 3.1k

tags: fem!reader, smut, angst, past infidelity/cheating, this is really toxic.... hate sex though....

the heartache from a past game of cat and dog—leaving you with nothing but a stained bed and a broken heart—came back tenfold when freshly-chopped hair and a sly smirk greeted you through the cracked-open, tinted window.

warnings: car sex, so semi-public sex, hate sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, some cockwarming, degradation (mentions of past cheating, both reader and jeonghan refer to the other as "slut"), reader is also called a cockslut at one point, hair pulling, pussy slapping, nicknames (hannie; darling), jeonghan is really toxic (and a big asshole), past infidelity, seungcheol is mentioned a few times *wink wonk*

A/N: this is for the anon who requested jeonghan ages ago. I might be 5 years late to writing it, but it's here hehe~ I'm so glad I finally got to write more for svt! this was really fun to write~ please consider leaving feedback/reblogging if you enjoyed! ^^ happy reading~~

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Frosty air cooled the sweat sticking to your exposed skin, heeled boots clacking over the pavement as you stumbled out of the creaky, metal door at the back of the club. You were way too sober, you thought, eyebrow twitching at the memory of your fight with the new manager. ‘No alcohol after you clock in,’ the high-pitched sound repeated in your ears. You worked just fine with a shot or two in your system; you’d argue you worked even better, able to drown out the slurred pick-up lines and simply pour drinks. Friday nights were the worst, and having to deal with clingy men who didn’t understand rejection—most of which not even your type—without alcohol had you considering a career change. So the second the clock hit eleven, you hurriedly wiped your station before another batch of college freshmen crowded the bar, grabbing your stuff and scrambling out the back exit.

Your legs carried you out of the small alleyway and onto the lit main sidewalk, thankful that the council finally replaced the flickering light bulb. Your eyes zeroed in on the bus stop down the road, and you quickly made your way towards it before the last bus could arrive.

A sudden horn blared to your right, cutting through the stillness and sounding over the distant music from the club behind you. Your fingers dug into your pocket on instinct to circle around the tube of pepper spray, your body tensing defensively as you faced the Jeep parked in front of you. The driver’s tinted window rolled down, a head of short, brown locks peeking through the gap. Your hand eased around the spray when you met with familiar, downturned eyes, hooded with what seemed like amusement. A shot of pain seared through your chest, your heart pounding against your ribcage as Jeonghan stared back at you blankly, a simple “hey” reverberating in the air between you.

“No bitches to cheat on tonight?” You spat, tightening your fingers around the jacket in your hand.

Why was he here? After you’d finally stopped looking for him in every corner, hoping he’d pull you out from behind the bar to give you a tearful apology? After the scent of his misdeeds had faded off your bedsheets, your slumber no longer interrupted by dreams about your heart being used as a plaything?

Jeonghan's eyebrow twitched, his amusement blending with irritation. “Seungcheol’s taken now, whose cock would they jump on if I did?”

Resentment seeped into your chest, and you considered pepper spraying him just to erase that smug smirk off his face. But you turned away from him, sucking in the cool air while scheming eyes bore into your profile. You willed your legs into motion, your footsteps sounding to the beat of the muffled club music as you continued your journey down to the bus stop. A car door slammed somewhere behind you, and you picked at the side of your index finger while you walked, hoping it was just a clubber who’d been running late. A firm hand wrapped around your upper arm and twisted you around, striking out the previous possibility when Jeonghan’s hot breath brushed against your face.

“Let me drive you home,” he mumbled, his hand relaxing around your arm but not quite releasing it.

You couldn’t help but pity him in this moment. A man who’d broken your heart and left you to mend it alone, curled up on your bedroom floor while he stuffed his belongings into a worn-down duffle, not even an apology or a goodbye, only the loud clang of his spare key landing on your console before the front door slammed shut. That same man, two years later, parked in front of your workplace—for God knows how many hours—only to drive you home? A part of you was curious why that was. The other, though, wanted to get the fuck away from him.

“Why? So I can hear more about how not sorry you are? No thanks,” you tugged against his grasp, now tight around your arm again.

“(Y/n), please. I won’t say anything, I just wanna drive you home,” the subtle hint of desperation in his voice alarmed you. It didn’t make sense, and yet the unanswered question overshadowed your confusion. The anger that had been simmering in your gut was beginning to boil.

“So you actually don’t feel guilty?” You didn’t mean for your voice to crack, and yet the ache in your chest nearly made you double over the further his silence stretched—the same one that had robbed you of sleep, kept you away from all potential love interests, had you curled up in the same sheets the reeked of adultery and betrayal while Jeonghan continued to jump from woman to woman, a trail of his sins dragging behind his indifferent figure. “Let me go, Jeonghan,” your tone was weak, defeated, once again faced with agonizing reality—he’d moved on long before that day.

You missed the way his eyelids fluttered at the delicate roll of his name off your tongue, the sound sparking a memory into the front of his mind, a collage of smiles and easy laughter echoing in his ears. His hand raised to grab onto your other arm, possessiveness laced with concern slowly overtaking him at the sight of you—shoulders slumped, eyes glassy and your fingers shaking where they curled into fists at your sides, the mere mention of his indifference reducing you to the same, hurt woman he's left behind.

“It’s late. Let me just-” He paused. Jeonghan never paused, not even when you stood at your doorway, looking him in the eye while he soiled your bedsheets with someone else. “I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

You blamed it on the quiver in your legs, the loss of willpower to move yourself away from him, but this time, you didn’t argue.

--

‘I thought you would be okay,

You thought I would be the same,’

Dpr Ian played through the speakers, the volume on low despite the silence stretching between you and the man in the driver’s seat. You realized you hadn’t needed to give him directions, a relationship of three years enough to engrave the way to your apartment into his mind forever. Your eyes flitted over to the side every now and then, taking in the shadows cast over Jeonghan’s cheekbones with every passing streetlight, his fringe fanning over his forehead in a way unfamiliar to you. Looking back to the front, you decided you preferred his longer hair, and missed the innocent glimmer in his dark eyes. Though despite all the changes—new car, new hair, new attitude and style—Jeonghan still used the same perfume, one that you’d bought him for the first birthday you’d celebrated together. Something in your gut stirred at the thought, but you were unsure whether it was pleasant or not.

‘it’s just another show,

Don’t want your world no more,’

Jeonghan cleared his throat, “I got promoted to manager,” he spoke, breaking the silence.

“Good for you,” your tone was cold, uninterested.

“Yeah.”

Dpr Ian continued to play, ‘You’re so addicted to my bad decisions.’

“How’s bartending been?”

“It’s okay.”

He hummed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as he took a right turn. “Mm, I worry about you sometimes. People can act crazy when drunk.”

Your eyebrow twitched, irritation creeping into your tone, “you don’t get to be worried about me.” You felt the urge to slam your fist into his unnecessarily sharp jaw, to watch bruises paint his face until the rage embedded so deep within your soul dissipated.

A few seconds of silence passed as Jeonghan parked parallel to the empty sidewalk in front of your apartment building, sighing while turning off the engine and twisting in his seat to face you. “You know, I’m just trying to be nice here.”

Your fists clenched, mirroring Jeonghan and turning around to look at him with hooded eyes, your muscles clenching and relaxing in an attempt to calm yourself down. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought to do that before you fucked a random girl in my bed,” you spat, content to have watched his face fall before turning your back to him and reaching for the door handle.

A hand flew over your shoulder before your fingers could reach their target, his index and thumb grabbing your jaw and forcefully forcing you back into your prior position. “And you thought sleeping with my best friend was a good way to handle it?” He pulled you closer to him, your lower belly digging into the console as he bent you over it, his face mere inches away and his breath blowing warm over your cheeks.

“You don’t get to blame me-”

He was quick to interrupt your defense, “you think I didn’t notice you acting like a slut to get his attention? Way before anything even happened,” his grip on your face tightened, inching his own closer as he spoke, each word falling off his tongue making the knot in your stomach wind tighter. “The looks,” something in his eyes glimmered, and while that once made butterflies flutter in your stomach, it now grew the lump in your throat until it restricted your airway. “The touches,” his breath fanned over your face, small beads of sweat pilling over your skin at the humidity, and perhaps at the rasp in Jeonghan’s voice as he laid out your sins before you. “The pictures.”

Your fingers gripped the console, slipping off with streaks of sweat staining the black leather. Heart pounding in your ears, you hoped Jeonghan’s hearing somehow declined during the years you’d spent apart, the ringing in your ears fogging up all thoughts. You blamed the nerves on his accusations—a dark past you thought you’d buried without trace—and yet the proximity, the lack of space between your face and Jeonghan’s, the mint lacing his breath and the rasp in every word he spoke, you found hidden tinges of arousal mixed in with your anxiety, dousing your panties as you tried to escape the man’s grasp.

“Why are you here, Jeonghan?” Your voice wavered, but this time, you didn’t miss the wave of what seemed like relief painting his face when his name rolled off your tongue.

“Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”

The ache in your chest returned, your eyebrows furling until you appeared wounded by his words. “Not for a second,” your voice remained firm, though, sparing him no glimpse at your heart.

Jeonghan only scoffed, amused by the contrast between your tone and expression. He leaned closer—as though your indifference urged him to prove himself to you—pressing his lips the corner of your mouth, whispering his next words against the soft skin, “you’re not entirely wrong… but I did miss one thing.”

‘I thought you would be okay,

You thought I would be the same.’

--

Your lower back dug into the steering wheel, the leather beneath your knees creaking as you adjusted your position over Jeonghan, your pants shamefully thrown over the passenger seat. Teeth clacked against each other, heavy breaths mingling between your open mouths as your tongues pressed together in a battle of lust.

Two fingers spread you open, curling between your sopping walls until your eyes rolled back, his other hand holding up the window switch, waiting until the darkened glass closed fully before moving it to your hip.

Squeezing the supple flesh, Jeonghan groaned into your parted lips, “still so fucking tight, did Seungcheol not fuck you well enough?”

Heat flared up your chest, “shut up.”

You’d thought two years and countless hookups would’ve blurred Jeonghan's memory of you, but his fingers fucked into you with purpose, as though every inch of your body, every motion that drove pleasure up your spine had become second nature to him.

“I bet he didn’t know how to satisfy my pretty slut,” he pressed his lips to your cheek, using the hand on your hip to guide you over his fingers.

“Sh-shut up-”

He slipped out of you, gliding his digits down your cunt and over your clit before landing a harsh slap over the nub, your body jolting over him and a broken cry sounding in the humid car. The wet clap of his hand on your drenched pussy repeated, and you mumbled incoherently through a breathy moan.

“What was that? Speak up for me, darling,” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

The urge to punch the playfulness off his face dissipated when skilled fingers brushed over your clit, “fuck, again-”

And he conceded, bringing his hand down on your pussy once more to watch your back arch into the steering wheel behind you, lips parting as pain mingled with pleasure, your cunt throbbing under Jeonghan’s palm. That same hand swiftly moved to your face, fingers digging into your jaw and smearing your arousal over your skin while his other worked over his zipper, quickly undoing his pants and pushing them down far enough to take his cock out. It leaked precum over his black button-up, the vein lining the underside throbbing at the sight of you above him—eyes glazed over and fixed on his hard length, your tongue digging into the inside of your cheek.

His fingers tapped against your clit, once, twice, before landing another rough slap over it. He grabbed himself around the base, groaning at the sudden contact as he positioned you over the leaking cockhead, “be a good girl for once and- fuck-”

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence, sliding down his length unprompted until his cock was sheathed entirely between your fluttering walls. You rolled your hips to adjust, forcing your chests flush as you moved and pressing your lips to the shell of Jeonghan’s ear.

“You talk as if you’ve done nothing wrong, but you’re just as much of a slut as I am, aren’t you, Hannie?” Trailing feathery kisses over his jaw, you slipped his cock halfway out of your cunt before sliding him back inside, squeezing your walls around him to feel the stuttered rise and fall of his chest against you. “You fucked me that morning, then brought that bitch into my bed a couple hours after,” you pecked the sharp edge of his jawline, moving your lips back to his ear to whisper your next words, “didn’t even have the decency to take her to your apartment-”

Rough fingers tangled in the hair at your nape, tugging your face back until you met with unfocused eyes. Jeonghan readjusted under you, digging his feet into the clean mats and thrusting upwards experimentally, scoffing at the moan you tried to suppress. Your neck craned uncomfortably, gritting your teeth as Jeonghan eyed you silently, a hand on your hip keeping you still and leaving you helpless to do anything but warm his cock.

So you commenced your taunts, desperately trying to wiggle out of his grasp while you spoke, “how many hours have you been waiting outside, huh? Just to get your dick wet-”

“I have you on my cock now, don’t I?” His fingers tightened around your hair, and he leaned back in his seat, fucking up into your clenching cunt before you could think of anything to say—assuming you were still capable of processing anything but the smooth drag of his length between your pulsing walls, his nails digging thin crescents into the flesh of your hip. His breathing grew heavy, and yet his words remained clear, contemptuous. “You may hate me, darling, but whether you like it or not, you’ll keep coming back to me,” the hand in your hair eased, fingers scratching soothingly at your sore scalp and pushing your head closer to his, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “because you’re my pretty cockslut, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan nuzzled his nose into your cheek, planting a tender kiss to the heated skin while you frantically nodded your head. A staccato of moans and repetitions of his name rolled off your tongue as he brought you down to meet his relentless thrusts, his own grunts adding to the stuffiness in the closed-up car. He pounded into your dripping cunt, taking in the jolts of pleasure shaking your body every time he drove his cockhead into your g-spot, your moans growing needier the closer he pushed you towards the edge.

With one final slap to your throbbing pussy, your vision darkened and your body curled in on itself. Jeonghan’s fingers rubbed quick circles over your swollen nub, watching you writhe on top of him as waves of pleasure seared through you, your moans high-pitched and desperate as he guided you through your orgasm with unrelenting fingers, spark after spark of simmering heat blinding you to everything but Jeonghan.

He felt his own high approaching at the tight squeeze of your walls around him, his thrusts slowing down when you tumbled over the edge, but returning to their frenzied pace to chase his orgasm. Your fingers closed over his upper arms, tinges of overstimulation blending with the ecstasy of his cock slamming into your used cunt.

“Fuck- where do you want me, darling?” He rolled his head back over the headrest, eyes lidded with burning arousal and his thighs beginning to cramp up at the pace he was going at.

“Inside, Hannie, hnngh! Please, inside,” you said, words slurred and interrupted by a harmony of moans, disregarding the soreness between your legs while you begged Jeonghan to come inside you.

He laughed at the desperation, the sweet noise—airy, gravelly with the lust clouding his every sense—was cut short, interrupted by a throaty grunt as he emptied inside you, hot ropes of cum pulsing out of him to paint your walls. Cupping your ass with both hands, he sunk his fingers into the flesh and guided you over his cock in slow rolls of your hips, breathing in the air the other exhaled, eyes locked as the last spurt of cum warmed your insides.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but now, with your head resting on Jeonghan’s chest, his steady heartbeat echoing in your ears and cum slowly dribbling out of you while his cock remained sheathed deep inside, you realized you’d let your walls down for the man who’d caused them to go up, sinking into the pleasure he so generously poured into you. The walls you’d been holding up for two years, the pain he’d left you with sparking fear in your heart every time someone tried to get closer. And yet, the same man who’d planted that fear inside you somehow breached past the infrastructure you’d spent so long strengthening.

While you laid there in the faux sense of security Jeonghan so easily provided, you realized he was right: you will always find your way back to him.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen fanfic #yoon jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan imagines

[bamdelune]

I heard requests were open!

May I request Scaramouche/Wanderer with male reader, just some fluff please! Thank you and have a good day \o/

hellaoo ! ofc, ofc !! everyone likes a good fluff fic from time to time so here it is ^_^ I've been thinking of a bus au for quite a while now so this gives me an opening <3 tysm for the request and of course, feel free to ask for more hehe

Scaramouche x (Male) Reader — Modern!au

notes: fluff, high school!au, first time writing with a male reader so bear with me if this ends up a bit stiff but it would be generally similar to how I write gn!reader, slowburn (?) but the burn isn't burning the way i want it to — sort of plotless as well (?) scaramouche crochets here

Monday, 7:00 PM

"Excuse me! Wait!" You call for the moving bus as it was just about to start moving. It halts after the driver hears you and the double doors hiss open. Your feet hop onto the steps, swiping your bus card against the scanner before moving through the aisles of seats before taking a seat on one of the spots near the second set of doors in the middle.

Exhaustion creeps up on you as your back hits the seat's rest, your back muscles start to relax when you release an exhale of relief. You throw your head back and the bus starts moving after the last passenger boards at the last minute. Truthfully, you were sort of glad that you weren't the last to get on.

As you re-focus on the movement of the bus, you manage to lay your eyes on the last person who boarded the bus. The boy looked strikingly familiar but you were far too worn out to think about it further. Before you knew it, it was finally your stop and you reluctantly forced yourself to get up and exit the bus. You would have opted to slump in your seat and let the vehicle take you anywhere but it would've been hell to walk from the last stop back to your area—which was 3 stops away.

Once you hear the lock of your front door click open, you take of your work shoes and make your way your bed. You couldn't be bothered to change into pajamas and allowed your exhaustion carry you off to dreamland.

Tuesday, 7:05 PM

The second time you ride the bus this week, you see the familiar guy again in the exact seat again. This time, you're not tired out of your mind to recognize him. On the seat across you sat the vice president of the your high school's student council, Scaramouche. His purple strands of hair fall stray on his porcelain face as he turned his head down to look at his phone, he had headphones that hung above his head.

Now that you think about it, maybe his popularity within your batch was reasonable. He was unfairly pretty for someone who was apparently too snarky for his own good. That sounded mean—you haven't exactly interacted with him enough to agree with those rumors.

You catch yourself staring too long when he suddenly feels eyes on him and raises his head up slightly to look in your direction. You immediately busy yourself with your own phone and desperately ignore the heat that made its way up to your face and the pink that the tip of your ears.

When you finally get off on your stuff, Scaramouche pays no mind to your leave and simply focuses on the pages of his novel.

Wednesday, 6:55 PM

You reach the bus stop absolutely soaking from head to toe. The necktie that came with your uniform hung slightly loose under your collar and your hair was drenched. Little could be done to avoid the pouring rain, only using the shelter of your backpack as a pathetic attempt to shield yourself from the harsh raindrops.

The bus hasn't arrived yet, and unlike the other stops, the one nearest to your school does not have any type of roofing that could cover yourself so you had to bear with standing as the cold water pricked at your skin.

You thought the rain had stopped for a moment when you feel the rain over your head stop but as you look up, a white umbrella hung over your head as an arm brought it up. You turn around slightly to reveal Scaramouche holding it the base.

"Oh— uh." You stammer in surprise, eyes going wide

Scaramouche shuffles closer to your side to find shelter under his umbrella. "You know, I think it's pretty stupid not to bring an umbrella when the forecast said so," he huffs as he observed the flow of the rain as it poured down onto the road.

"Didn't get to read it— or rather I.. don't read it." You scratch your nape, an awkward chuckle escapes you afterwards. The purple-haired boy only hums before the bus pulls up at 7pm. You both get on and sit on your usual seat. You would be lying if you said you were slightly disappointed with this arrangement but you quickly forget about it when the pitter-pattering of the rain on the window lulls you to sleep on the bus.

✦

You wake up when you feel a gentle hand shaking you awake. Eyes fluttering open, you turn to see that Scaramouche was the one responsible for your return to a lucid state.

"It's your stop soon." He curtly states, he was standing up beside your seat's row with one side of his headphones behind his ear.

You look around the bus and out the window to see the familiar buildings of your area, feeling that the bus was slowing down as you pull up to the stop.

Your lips form a small 'o' before muttering a soft thanks to him before standing up with your bag slung over your shoulder. You wipe the small trail of drool that dripped from the side of your mouth, praying to the archons Scaramouche didn't notice it.

The bus comes to a halt and you slightly jerk forward from the intertia, the familiar doors hiss open and you walk over to leave. You don't know what possesses you to do so, but you raise a hand up to wave at Scaramouche just as you leave. He raises an eyebrow in surprise but luckily, he reciprocates the action.

By this time, the rain had stopped and you watch as the bus left to the next stop.

Thursday, 7:01 PM

To your surprise, Scaramouche was seated before you today.

You ponder at the entrance of the bus for a while. He's had you acting out of your usual routine and demeanor now so why not take it a step further? You plop yourself down on the seat beside him, placing your bag down on your lap. You sneeze in the other direction to avoid spraying on Scaramouche. A cold was already starting to build up from standing in the rain yesterday.

After a few minutes, the bus begins moving. You feel a cold sensation on your hand and see that Scaramouche was nudging a small bottle of drugstore medicine into your hand.

"You look like shit," Scaramouche says as he looked back at his book. "Drink this."

You were taken aback but respond with a quick chuckle before taking it out of his hand and opening the cap to drink out if it. "Classy choice of words. Thanks." You nudge his arm with your elbow playfully. He only responds with a scoff and the rest of the ride is spent in comfortable silence.

You went home that day in high spirits, you were slowly getting to know Scaramouche. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, perhaps just a little rough around the edges.

Friday, 7:00 PM

You take the seat beside Scaramouche again, who had his headphones on again. He acknowledges you with a nod snd turns his focus back to the item he seemed to be crocheting.

Getting the cold definitely took a toll on your energy. You went through all your classes today half-asleep. Fighting a virus knocked you out the moment you sat on your seat. Before you could catch yourself, you fall asleep and your head rests on Scaramouche's shoulder. He stiffens at the contact for a while before relaxing. A 'tch' leaves his lips but he proceeds to adjust his position and your head's placement to make sure you don't wake up with a stiff neck.

Now it was his turn to look at you up close. As much as he's reluctant to admit it, he finds it slightly.. subtly .. cute how peaceful you looked when you slept. You often participated in class, something even he doesn't tend to do as student council vice president, and wonders whether you actually rest given the slightly dark eyebags under your eyes. His instincts get the better of him and his fingers reach to swipe the short stray strands of your hair away from your face to get a clearer view of your face prevent them from making your face itch too much. You gently stir from his action but never wake up, to his relief. He'd rather die than have you find out what he just did. A pink hue dusts over his features and he tries to turn his focus back to his book. He only wakes you up as gentle as he did last time when the bus pulls up at your stop. You say a quick thanks before leaving again, this time he peers over his shoulder at the window as you walk away from the bus stop.

From that week forward, the feeling of looking forward to bus rides together was a mutual thing that the both of you felt. Scaramouche felt more inclined to hand you little items that he made from crocheting everytime you sat down beside him. You often walked to the stop from school together and it was filled with conversation (mostly you talking and him listening, but he liked it that way). This became a little treasured routine between the two of you. It doesn't take long for the both of you to start warming up to each other and give fleeting touches that makes the other feel a blooming sensation in your chests. It drives you a bit crazy to think how much can change within a week, and probably from stolen glances in between class lectures.

Each time you fall asleep on the bus, you could rely on Scara to serve as a comfortable shoulder to lean on during rides home &lt;3

© bamdelune may 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

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[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Cupid's Curse

Chapter Three

Warnings: attempted rape, stalking, stripping, Señor Jake, Aphrodite's questionable tastes

A/N: Please remember this fic is exploring dark themes

Taglist: @gingermous

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

Eros was not your name when Aphrodite selected you as her avatar. Your prayer was to be able to love life to see what she saw in the world. In her temple, she gifted you with her eyes, her ears, her heart; you were given the ability to love life and spread the words of the Goddess. Sung praise, shared stories, you did your job with a joyful heart.

Her Agape. You loved everyone, everything, and Goddess with all of your heart.

And because of that love your heart broke painfully.

The death of the Olympians by the hands of Hercules had left many of the avatars of the Greek Gods to lose faith. Without faith, it became the final nail in the coffin. Hades and Gods of the underworld lived for death and fear of the underworld will never fade; love is not the same. Aphrodite was dying as love started to become less genuine and more transactional. Then when you started to cast doubt… Hercules uses swords to show how weak the Olympus was, and with a sword is dug the first seeds of doubt.

You grieved, in her temple whaled in anguish, your Goddess loved you… Loved you so much she became part of your heart. Though you curse it, at times wish to rip it out, you never want to part from your Goddess. She lives on through you.

All forms of love.

Because you feed on love, sort of speak, you work at this gentleman's club as a waitress. Serving drinks, cleaning tables, helping the ladies with changing clothes. It's a classy strip club and the owner makes sure it stays that way.

The club is also where you saw the final man. Everyone at the club calls him Lockley, he's a cab driver and gives amazing tips to the strippers. Twice his gaze, cold and dangerous, has landed on you. The bartender says he isn't a bad guy and the most decent one who comes here regularly. The bartender's Cockney accent was thick as he spoke to you about Lockley a few months ago.

Gods above, Aphrodite please stop doing this to my heart! You beg in the employee bathroom to the silent Goddess.

You do your usual waitering tasks serving drinks and taking orders from the old men or bore younger men. The strippers doing their jobs, the music is loud, the energy of lust thick in the air. Sometimes you bask in it when on break, hiding from the sight of mortal perception. You get off on it more these days with Aphrodite than you did before your union, sex was never really high on your list of needs.

Eros and Mania have worsened since the three men you found fascinating crossed your path. Mania is the dangerous one and you fight to keep it in check.

The gentleman's club, you off balance it with Eros but the dark side of Eros is how you crave physical attention. You wear a dress shirt with sleeves and pants, you make sure there is no way a person can touch your skin.

You don't serve Lockley his drinks. The last thing you need is to touch him and end up being overcome by lust.

The curse, a Cupid's Curse, your touch or aura can alter the emotions of those around you. Like on the bus, expect your touch is far more potent and can last for how long you have contact with a person.

You rather not use it on Steven or Marc or Lockley, it would hurt them and you refuse to do such a thing!

"(Name)." You were at the counter when your boss called you over, "I know this is irregular but can you cover for a lass on the stage? She called in sick."

You nod. Not the first time you stripped up there or did something erotic as a performance.

"Thanks, I can always count on you." Tapping your shoulder, "Same routine as before." In emergencies you made a routine to fill in for or to stall for time until the next performance.

This is also another way to be given attention and make an extra few bucks.

You head to the unaware of those sharp dark brown eyes following you.

*

"See you tomorrow!" Waving goodbye to the bartender as you leave the club. The night air is always great to feel after work, it's hot and the lights with music blaring in the background can get to you. The silent night in London is peaceful, dangerous, but peaceful. Your shoes click against the pavement as you walk home since the buses do not run this late. Walking at a fair pace, you realize something is off. Glancing over your shoulder a few times.

Being watched. Being followed. Wow, not the first time the reverse happened to you. You are worried but all you can hope is to get this over with quickly.

You keep walking then you feel something sharp pressed against the middle of your back, a hand grabbing your arm quickly bringing it behind your back at an awkward painful position.

"Keep your eyes forward and don't fight back." You recognize this voice. "Got it?"

You nod then are pushed towards an alley.

To say this is your first time being in this short of situation, avatars of Gods of indulgences were seen as weak and objectified; they easily forget how Medusa was created because of such cruelty. You have killed many who sought to use you in such a way.

"Be a good girl for daddy, put your hands up on the wall." Your hands go to the wall, he kicks your legs open. This will not end well, "Gonna give you my cock, slut." For him.

Love as easily can be given, it can be taken away. Leave someone hollow with no ability to feel anything. Your eyes glow a bright pink as he attempts to take off your pants.. The second he touches skin will be his doom—

Crack!

You gasp and turn around seeing a man with a flat cap suckerpunched the man from the club you recognized. He picks up the knife that was used against you, it fell out of the other man's hand when he was sent flying into a pile of trash bags and cans.

"Pedazo de mierda." Twirling the knife in his gloved hand.

You stand there surprised to see Lockley here and viciously beating the hells out of the man who attempted to have his way with you.

Aphrodite's heart skips a beat at the sight of blood and sounds of begs for mercy, the apologies and the way Lockley is merciless. You recall how Ares was when he was around the love Goddess. Scary stuff.

"Señorita?"

You ran away for his sake you had to run.

#tw attempt rape #tw stalking #moon knight #reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #moon knight reader insert #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven with a v #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader

[howaboutcastiel]

Does It Show Again?

Summary: Steven is injured and Marc underestimates his strength. Layla doesn’t have cell service. Gus and Fish get a sister. 4.1k words

Content: angst. Lots of other stuff? This chapter is plot heavy but also feelings heavy. Hurt/comfort? Canon-typical injuries, Layla talks some more about the trafficking ring, with some details that might be upsetting. Marc talks about Randall. FWMS Masterlist. 

They named the dog Nadine. 

As it turned out, Layla was still in love with the staffy she had come across after her impromptu date night with Steven. She had loved the sweet puppy so much that she was convinced she had to have her. After several hours of talking it over with Steven and Marc, she had made a trip to the store to buy everything from food to a kennel to squeaky toys, and then another trip back to the shelter. They charged her next to nothing to adopt the stafford terrier. She had been waiting for months for an owner and no one had chosen her. Well, Layla was happy to give her a home. 

Except, she still had work to do for Taweret. So Layla’s dog quickly became Layla’s and Marc’s and Steven’s dog, and the boys agreed to stay at Layla’s with the pup when she traveled for work. That’s what Marc was meant to be doing now, as Layla was halfway across Europe in a place so removed from cell reception that she hadn’t gotten a word out to him in days. He was meant to come home from dinner with Mrs. Bamford and greet Nadine with a walk and a night-time play session. 

Her little tail wagged frantically as Steven stumbled through the door, covered in blood. 

Making it home was a blur. After Mrs. Bamford had convinced him to evade the police, he had run mindlessly in the direction of central London. He couldn’t exactly catch the bus in the state he was in. Eventually, he managed to hail a cab to Layla’s flat. The driver didn’t ask any questions about his appearance. Just as long as he got paid, Steven supposed. So he handed the man some cash and mumbled out the address of Layla’s apartment complex. It wasn’t until he was settled in the back seat that the adrenaline began to wear off of him. By then, the pain in his body radiated from more than his fists. 

That’s when he discovered that the switchblade hadn’t missed his skin afterall. It wasn’t a deep wound, but it was broad and solid. Steven had pressed against his chest to keep the blood from spilling out onto the leather seats.

Nadine wasn’t very pleased with the way he ignored her. Steven made a B-line for the guest bath, tugging his shirt up over his head. He felt ready to faint at any moment, but he tried his best to focus on his breathing as he rinsed the blood from his hands. Steven was grateful that his hand wasn’t broken, but his knuckles were certainly raw. 

‘I’m sorry.’  Marc’s voice rang desperately. His shame was palpable. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

“‘S alright,” Steven slurred. He pulled a towel from the cabinet and pressed it firmly to the wound between the ribs on his right side. 

‘Let me deal with that,’ Marc offered. ‘I’m the one who got us into the fight. You shouldn’t be the one in pain.’

Steven shook his head. He leaned back against the wall for support, breathing shallowly. “I don’t mind it so much.”

‘C’mon, man. We got stabbed. I know it hurts like hell.’

“It’s a graze at best.” Even though he felt Marc trying to push his way to the front, Steven stayed put. He had never been in physical pain like this before, Marc had made sure of that. He had always assumed he was too weak for it, and Marc had always assumed Steven couldn’t handle pain like that. 

But Steven felt just fine. 

There was something harrowing about the wide gash in his side. Something calming about the rings of broken skin around his bruised knuckles. Steven might have even leaned into the feeling, except for the black spots that formed in the corner of his eyes when he did. Not to mention how much Marc Spector found his serenity to be disturbing, given the circumstances. Still, Steven was handling the pain just fine, and he had no trouble at all keeping Marc from the front as he continued cleaning his wounds. He had just finished bandaging his non-dominant hand when Nadine ceased her whining at his heels. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” Steven could feel the weakness in his breath as he cooed to the puppy. She only turned her head and left the bathroom, moving to sit patiently at the front door. “I’m sorry. I have to finish this before we go on our walk.”

But Nadine perked her ears and wagged her tail at the door. Steven shook his head, remembering that saying the word walk would only make her more excited. He turned his attention back to his hands, which were swimming in his vision by now. The wound in his side was still bleeding steadily and he was covered in a layer of thin, cold sweat. He kept working as tunnel vision started to creep in. He struggled to unfurl the wrappings that he was trying to put on his other hand. Again, he propped his weight against the wall, swearing. This time, he leaned into the pain, even though it was weakening him. 

There was a scratching metal noise outside, like the rattling of keys against a lock, and Nadine had started whining again. Steven closed his eyes. He needed to focus and get through this, quickly. The door opening registered somewhere in the back of his mind, but the front of it was focused on his hands and his side. He moved his bandaged hand up against his ribs. 

“Hello, gorgeous!” A voice rang from the door, high-pitched and tired and singsong-y. Steven smiled, still not having opened his eyes. Some clattering let him know that Nadine had jumped up into Layla’s arms to greet her. “Are you here by yourself?”

And then a beat of silence. The entryway light wasn’t on, but the one in the bathroom was. The door was still open and Steven was just out of view of the front door. 

“Marc?”

When Layla spotted him, he could hear the way she frantically ran to his side. Her voice was dripping with worry and her hands cupped his face. Steven struggled to open his eyes. 

“Marc!”

He scoffed lightly. “Not Marc.”

“Steven?” Layla’s eyes flashed across his body, surveying his wounds. “What—Why are you…? What happened to you?”

Layla guided him to sit on the couch. Steven didn’t protest as she did it, not that he had the energy if he wanted to. His breathing had gone from steady to shallow to labored. He hardly had the strength to hold the towel to the wound on his side anymore. 

“Just a home invasion,” he quipped. Layla didn’t find it funny. “At Mrs. Bamfords. Don’t worry, she’s safe. Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“Let me help you with that.” She gestured to his ribs. The towel covered the wound and the blood streaming from it. 

He shook his head. “I can do it myself. You should go walk Nadine. She’s been cooped up all day.”

“She can wait a little longer,” Layla insisted. “You can barely open your eyes, Steven. Let me patch you up.”

He sighed, leaning back against the cushions. Steven hoped he wasn’t bleeding on the couch. 

“Alright.”

Layla didn’t say much as she bandaged his hand, except to point out that his left one was certainly sprained. She made sure he still had relatively free use of his fingers. It was only when she pulled Steven’s hand away from his ribs—laying her eyes on the blood-soaked towel and the wound in his side that was still streaming red—that she found her words again. She tried to keep her voice calm, but she wasn’t used to seeing him bleed. Not without the suit there to heal him. 

“This is going to need stitches.” She tilted his head in her hand, making sure he was listening. “You might want to let Marc take over for this. They aren’t very fun.”

Steven smiled at her, like he found her suggestion amusing. “I can handle it.”

Layla wouldn’t admit what that look and those words made her feel. She just nodded at him. 

“Go ahead and lay down for me, then. I’ll be right back.”

When Layla returned with her needle, thread, and bandages, Steven was sprawled across the couch. His work pants and boots were still on, but his chest was exposed. He kept his eyes open and on her, an adoring expression on his face as she entered the room. The puppy was at his side, her head resting on the couch just beside his face. Layla settled on the floor opposite his chest.

“I can turn on the TV, if you’d like,” she offered to him. “It’ll go easier if you have something to distract you.”

“No, that’s alright,” he replied. He stared at her for a moment. “Tell me about your trip, love.”

She scoffed. “I’m not sure that’s the kind of distraction you want.”

“I’d still like to hear about it,” he shrugged. “You know we get worried when you’re away. Especially when you can’t get to a phone.”

“Yes, I know.” Layla wiped as much blood from the wound as she could. Steven barely flinched. “Every time I get service again, I read the novel Marc sends me while I’m away.”

Steven tilted his head. “You did ask him to open up more. It would help him a lot if it worked both ways.”

“It does work both ways,” she interjected.

He grinned. “Then tell me about your trip.”

Layla folded. Steven was convincing, and he knew he had caught her. That was one thing Marc was never good at—convincing. He usually got his way by throwing punches, which he would never throw at Layla, of course. Steven used his words, and Layla found his method surprisingly effective. But she also found it irritating. She had gotten used to winning arguments with her husband. So, Layla made sure to wait until the first stitch was done before she started her story. 

Not that it made a difference to Steven, of course. 

“I spent the last few days in New Delhi,” she began. “Taweret started by sending me to Munich, but there’s a problem with the higher-ups in the—”she couldn’t bring herself to say the name that they called themselves. 

“In the ring.”

Steven nodded at her, so invested in Layla’s feelings that he appeared to not even notice the needle weaving in and out of his chest. Layla, on the other hand, seemed doubly affected by the combination of the blood and her own recollection of her trip. Steven knew how serious this job was, which was why he pushed her so hard to talk about it. He was afraid of how Layla would be affected if she bottled it up. 

She continued. “So I had to follow the team to India. Anyway, there’s a rival operation there that they wanted to merge with. Or, if they couldn’t merge, they wanted to destroy it. Obviously I wasn’t complaining about that idea. Taweret helped me keep tabs on both rings while my team captured one of the big guys in their rival gang.”

Layla’s hands had stopped moving. Steven looked up at her, seeing the hesitation on her face. 

“You’re not hurting me,” he offered. “You can keep going.”

But he knew that the hesitation was not for the stitches. Layla was struggling with her story. She didn’t say anything else as she wove the next stitch in his side, focusing on keeping her hands from shaking. 

Steven changed his tone to be more gentle, more deliberate. “It’s okay if you’re not ready yet. If something really bad happened, I mean. You don’t have to tell me.”

But Layla shook her head. There was fear in her eyes. “It isn’t that something bad happened.”

“No?” He didn’t understand what was upsetting her. 

She bit her lip. Layla couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“It’s that I did something bad.”

Steven was quick with his response. It was second nature to him, this sort of thing. “We knew this was going to be hard, right? I mean, going undercover was bound to have some tough moments. Some tough decisions. I’m sure that you only did what you had to, love.”

Layla’s face and neck flushed with something akin to shame. Steven reached out weakly to cup her face, but she turned her head away from his touch. She went back to stitching him up, nearly finished now. 

As she continued—hesitantly—her eyes never left his chest. “They wanted information out of him, but he wouldn’t talk. He didn’t think that merging the rings would be a good idea and he was loyal to his own people. He told us to just kill him and be done with it, that he would never betray his operation, and that we would never work together. I thought we were going to shoot him and dump his body somewhere the rivals could see. I could have almost come to terms with that. 

But my boss wasn’t satisfied. 

He wanted to know everything that man knew, and he wanted it as quickly as possible. All the guys on my team, though, they’re hasty. They’re impulsive. Not to mention, they’re not too bright. They wouldn’t have the patience or the wit to get information out of him.”

Steven understood what she was leading up to. 

“But you would.”

She nodded. 

Steven thought that there was nothing else to be said, so he didn’t say anything. Layla wasn’t eager to speak up, either. She finished the last stitch on his side, wiping the wound clean one final time before covering it with some antibiotic cream and a layer of bandages. When she picked up the soiled rags and medical supplies and headed toward the laundry, Steven pulled himself up against the cushions in a somewhat-sitting position. Layla came back with a glass of water in her hand, instructing him to sip on it. He grabbed at her, a silent plea for her to sit at his side, and she reluctantly did. 

They sat in silence. Eventually, Nadine moved up onto Layla’s lap and Steven moved to lay his head on her shoulder. He was almost asleep by the time Layla’s voice rang out, small and meek as ever. 

“I was really good at it, Steven.”

He blinked at her a couple of times, his brain foggy from the blood loss and adrenaline crash. “Good at what?”

Her voice broke around the words. “At making him talk.”

Steven had nothing reassuring to say to that. What could he possibly say? He only weakly stroked her hand as she cried into his hair. Whatever was running through her head, it wasn’t a feeling that he could imagine. He didn’t know how to help. 

They were both so tired. Steven and Layla sat still, holding each other weakly until her breathing evened out again. They could have fallen asleep there, enveloped in one another’s pain, if it weren’t for the stafford terrier that hadn’t gotten her walk for the day. 

Nadine hopped down from Layla’s lap, whining and scratching at the front door, and Steven didn’t even have a chance to stand up before Layla was by her side with a leash in hand. 

“We’ll be right back, habibi.”

Steven simply nodded and watched as they walked out the door. 

Marc wasted no time speaking up once they were alone. Steven already had a fair idea of what he was going to say. “I knew something like this was going to happen. That fucking hippo is no better than Khonshu after all.”

“It was Layla’s choice, Marc. Taweret didn’t force her.” Steven took another sip from the glass of water, struggling to swallow it. 

Marc wasn’t convinced. “Khonshu never forced me, either.”

“He was manipulating you. It’s different.” 

But Marc was angry. “No, Steven. This is different. Khonshu only used me for what I already was. A killer. A soldier. Layla isn’t like that. She would never torture someone. Not even some sex-trafficking bastard who deserves it. Layla isn’t like me. She’s too good. Taweret is doing something to her, I’m sure of it.”

Steven shook his head. 

“Maybe you just don’t know your wife as well as you thought.”

~~~

Layla was home all week. Marc and Steven had taken the weekend off from Mrs. Bamford’s, and she had happily informed them that the intruder had been arrested without much questioning. After Layla had managed to stitch Steven back together, he had allowed Marc to take the reins and spend some quality time with his wife. Marc needed it, and she needed it, and Steven was happy to spend some time on the inside, or just silently watch from the sidelines as they rebuilt their marriage piece by piece. 

It had been a long time since Marc had had to heal from a fight without the suit. He had forgotten how sore his hands could get. How hard it could be to move around with a row of stitches in his side. Marc tried to hide his discomfort as much as he could—it was his own fault after all, wasn’t it? Did he really even have a right to complain? 

He continued to talk with Layla about the details of her trip. She was getting close to the head of the ring, they both could feel it. But Layla was understandably reluctant to talk to Marc about it. She felt far too guilty about her new and improved role in the whole ordeal. Layla couldn’t bring herself to tell him all the gory responsibilities she had come to adopt. She couldn’t talk to him about the way she had that poor man begging for her to stop. How she had him spilling his guts about everything he knew of the ring he served. 

She especially couldn’t tell him the worst part of it all. How that small part of her, deep down inside, had enjoyed making him suffer. How she was proud of herself for being so good at it. 

And how he hadn’t been the only one. 

Layla wasn’t a fool—she knew everything that those people had done. She knew they deserved everything that they got, and she knew she grew closer to the head of the snake with each monster she cut through. Layla knew that her heinous actions only strengthened the trust that the ring had in her, only gave her more power within the group and more opportunity to peek between the cracks in the operation. None of that justified it, though. She also knew that. Nothing changed the fact that she was hurting people, and that she enjoyed it. 

She was beginning to understand why being an avatar had broken Marc so completely. 

Marc finally found himself able to talk to her. Really, truly talk to her. He’d already shared so much since they first arrived home from Cairo. Now, though, he was almost completely unrestrained. Tiny piece by piece, he had warmed up to her enough to share the parts of his life that he’d hidden from her. The ones he’d hidden from everyone. Marc was finally finding a way to share himself with Layla. 

Some things were harder to share than others. 

“I can’t remember him that well,” Marc explained. “We were so young, you know? I only got bits and pieces anyway, but it was such a long time ago. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he was ever real.”

Marc was sitting on the floor, the dog in his lap, while Layla sat behind him on the couch and brushed his hair for him. He still couldn’t lift his right arm because of the stitches, and his left hand was sprained too much for fine movement. It was easier to talk to her like this, he supposed. He didn’t have to look her in the eye. 

“I only really remember that day. Everything before it is a blur, but I remember everything about that day. Steven had to explain it to me. I used to just think that it was Randall’s tragedy. That I was just a bystander. A witness who should have saved him. I was the one who did that to him—”

Layla couldn’t help but interject. “You weren’t. It wasn’t your fault—”

“It was an accident, I know.” Marc scoffed. “But I felt responsible. Most of the time, I still feel that way. It’s hard for me to really believe anything else, it’s just been my fault for such a long time. But Steven explained it to me. He—he gave me permission, I guess, to not just be a witness. I was there, too. I was just a kid, too.”

Marc cleared his throat, blinking away tears. 

“And I almost drowned, too.”

“Is that why you can’t go under anymore?” Layla was almost whispering when she asked. 

He shook his head and bore a lopsided smile she couldn’t see. “I don’t know. I guess I did fine with all of the training as a Marine. I don’t really remember. And I can swim just fine, the water doesn’t bother me. It’s hard to explain.”

His smile dropped. 

“But when I look up, and all I see is water? Or when there’s no one around and I have to go under? It’s like…

It’s like I’m right back in that cave.

I was taller than him. Just a few inches, and I was thinner. I guess I could squeeze through the rocks? I could keep my head above the water just a little longer? I don’t know. I just know when they pulled us out, I still felt like I couldn’t breathe. I looked over and my mom was doing chest compressions on RoRo. I just remember thinking, “I must already be dead. That’s why no one’s doing CPR on me. I’m already gone. That’s why I can’t breathe.” I was just lying there, alone.”

Marc stopped when he felt a tear run along his upper lip. He hadn’t realized that he was crying, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. He had never told anyone about those moments afterward. He hadn’t even told Steven. 

“There was water in my lungs, is what my dad told me. I spent a couple days in the hospital. Almost missed his burial. My dad barely left my side the whole time I was there. He was worried, you know? I guess my mom was worried, too. But when I came home… that was the end of it. It was Randall’s shiva, and I was still alive, and it was my fault.”

Layla was crying, too. “And no one was there for you? To make sure you were okay?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think they were supposed to be.”

She was almost done with his hair. Layla had managed to convince Marc to add curl cream to his routine, now that she had to do it for him. She was almost positive that he would abandon it as soon as he regained his full range of movement. But, it was fun while it lasted, and his curls were bouncier and wilder than ever. Layla ran her hands through the mop of hair one last time when her fingers suddenly dug into his scalp. 

“Ow!” Marc yelped. He turned his head to see her staring off into space. “Layla?”

She nodded her head like she was listening to someone. Her eyes focused on thin air. On something Marc couldn’t see. 

Someone Marc couldn’t see. 

“You’re sure?” Layla said, eyeing the space beside the TV where Marc assumed Taweret was standing. “That’s halfway across the world from our last lead. Why would they be there?”

“What’s she saying?” Marc asked. Layla shook her head, still listening. 

“What if that’s really it?” She hummed nervously. “What do we do when we get there?” 

Layla nodded and turned her attention toward Marc. Her voice was low. 

“Taweret says there’s a lead in Jacksonville. That this could be the head of the whole trafficking ring.”

His eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to Jacksonville,” she said decidedly. “And I’m going to finish this. I’m going to kill them all.”

Marc didn’t know if it was really Layla talking, or if Taweret had twisted her sense of justice into something else. Either way, Marc knew exactly what he was, and he knew exactly what Layla wasn’t. 

And just like Layla, he understood deep down that he needed this. That he was meant for this. 

“I’m going with you.”

~~~

@n1ght5h4d3-24 @magicwithaknife @rmoonstoner @nervouslaught3r @unavoidabledirewolf @kbakery @mccn-bcys @gingermous @avatarofseshat @damreonsgirl @dragons-are-my-favorite @k8esilver @competentpotato @theconsultingdoctor10 @rayrlupin @moony-artemis @nerdory10 @valkyrieace

@ahookedheroespureheart @mt2sssss @loki-hargreeves @starfirette @celeste4121-blog @avengersinitiative2012 @sifinskies @unspokenmoon @maplemind @mainstreambitchlife @hot-mess-express1 @toracainz @zarahbronstein @daughterofthequeen @am-3-thyst @romanarose @wand-erer5 @jake-g-lockley @alexismm @moonmoonboys @bitchyglitterfox

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #layla el faouly #fire within my soul #moon boys #marclayla #Masterlist

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Play By The Rules (Part 4): Ken Ryuguji x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You've met with Brahman and gotten your wish. But how does it line up for you when you realize that you've landed right in Ken Ryuguji's lap?

wc: 1.4k

tw: smut

previous part 📝 masterlist 📝 next part

As soon as you get off the bus, you rush back to the motel, key in hand. You're hovering even though it's a warm, sunny day, and there's no reason to be in such a panic.

Unless you'd just met with a gang member and a poacher, that is.

"Come on, come on," you hiss, trying and failing for the third time to get the key into the door. By some minor miracle, the key jiggles in the lock, and you shove the door with your hip, practically tumbling inside. "Fuck!"

"You're a promising young woman," Draken said, eyes scanning your entire frame as you shook hands with him. "Hopefully, we'll see more of you soon, should Brahman accept your terms."

The way Draken smirked at you, the way he addressed you... You hold your right hand up and look at your fingers, the same fingers he'd gripped less than an hour before. Had they changed at all? Did he leave something behind on them that gave you such an adrenaline rush?

He hadn't given a single inch while you stated what you wanted from Brahman and what you'd be willing to give. Not a blink, a sigh, or a shift in his demeanor. So why did he switch to being so charming at the end?

You stand in the bathroom and take your clothes off in a hurry, stripping down to your bare flesh and then hopping into the shower. The harsh stream of hot water makes you shiver as your skin reddens. And then you do something you never thought you'd do - something you'd never even consider if you'd been level-headed.

Your right fingers find your clit, and you press your other hand against the shower's tile to hold yourself up. You rub at yourself furiously, rapidly, trying to release any and all tension still in your bones. Draken's eyes, hair, face, and dragon tattoo all materialize before you as you squeeze your lids shut.

You're kneeling in your fever dream, holding your mouth open as he strokes himself with the same hand he used to shake yours. Draken says nothing as he grips his cock in one hand and holds your mouth open, a thumb pressed to your bottom teeth. And you're needy - you want this, this signal of dominance - begging him to either push his member past your lips or cum on your face. Either one will do, and either one will satisfy.

"Open wide," he finally breathes, his deep voice bringing you to the edge.

"Oh, fuck; oh, fuck; oh, fuck." And as he cums, you cum, the shower head's sound fading into reality. You pant, attempting to catch your breath in the steamed-up shower. You look down at the same hand you used to shake Draken's hand, then grab your soap bar to cleanse it.

When you emerge from the shower, you're barely dressed for the night when your phone buzzes to life. "Unknown caller," you murmur, reading the screen. You hesitate to pick it up, fear making you stand still as the phone continues to vibrate in your hand. It could be anyone; why take that chance?

Once the phone stops vibrating, you throw it back down on your bed, slip your shirt on, and turn to the TV for a distraction. While ignoring your phone isn't new, waiting for voicemails from an unknown number is. And it takes everything in you to leave the phone where it is and not obsessively check it to see if it's your ex.

You break after brushing your teeth, approaching your phone with trepidation but swiping on the voicemail notification.

"Hey." The voice on the other end shoots pangs of adrenaline to your stomach. Draken. "I just got done talking with the others, and they said they'll accept your request. Come to Calypso tomorrow at three p.m." The voicemail cuts off. You relax your shoulders, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and crawl into bed, pulling the covers over yourself before attempting to sleep.

"Club Calypso, please." The cab driver looks at you in the rearview mirror, frowning.

"You sure, miss?"

"Positive," you answer. He says nothing more, driving out of the motel parking lot and turning up the radio. Pop music floods through the speakers, and you relax into the picked-at leather seats, letting the inner city pass by. The ride to the club isn't long, maybe only ten minutes. But each second brings you that much closer to Draken.

Your hand tingles, and you hope Draken will be the one to greet you at the doors and invite you inside. But the more you stare at the exterior of Calypso, the more you feel a sinking feeling dragging your confidence down. Two bouncers stand outside, dressed to the nines in suits and earpieces.

"It's just a job, it's just a job..." you whisper to yourself, stepping out of the cab after paying the driver. You walk past the two bouncers without any acknowledgment. Once you're inside the incredibly fancy club, you're greeted by a male attendant.

"Lola, right this way." There is an abundance of chandeliers in the main room, each reflecting off the other. If the furniture wasn't black, you're confident you wouldn't be able to see anyone due to the brightness. "This is where we host the clients," he begins, and you nod silently, letting your eyes roam around the plush surroundings.

You continue to follow the man up a flight of stairs and to a more exclusive lounge, which he dubs the "VIP lounge." "You'll be working here if you get a high-paying client."

"Of course," you answer, taking note of the curtained-off sections, each belying a sense of privacy for those who would pay a pretty penny for a fraction of your time.

"And the dressing rooms are downstairs." As you both make your way toward the empty dressing room, you hear someone coming down the carpeted hallway. "Oh, Mr. Ryuguji! It's a pleasure to see you again." You look up to see Draken coming your way, dressed in a blue suit covered in red dragons and gold floral accents. Your heart skips a beat at seeing him in something other than his black sweater and grey pants.

"It's good to see you, too." Draken looks over at you, raising his chin and offering you a small smile. "How does everything look, Lola?"

"It looks nice," you state, giving him a grin. And so do you.

"Glad it's to your liking." Draken inhales, and you both stand there, eyes barely meeting in the silence. 'You have no idea that you were in my fantasies,' you want to reply. But it's inappropriate. And this is just a job to you and to Draken.

"W-well..." your guide butts in, trying to ease what he perceives as an awkward silence. "I can show you the employee entrance if you'd like, Lola."

"Let me show her," Draken interjects, slinging his suit jacket over his shoulder. "We have to open in an hour. I'll take her off your hands so you can return to your duties."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Ryuguji," the man rushes out, bowing a little. The man scurries off, and you turn to Draken, mouth drying up as he approaches you.

"You gonna come with me or what?" When you don't move, he chuckles. "I'm not going to do anything to you. You're an employee now."

"I'm not worried about what you're going to do," you reply, following him down another hallway adjacent to the dressing rooms. I'm worried about what I might do.

"The entrance is guarded by a passcode," Draken tells you as he opens the door to the outside. A cold breeze rushes past you, and you step outside, letting him shut the door. You turn back towards the door, and he motions toward the handle. "Just punch in..." He reaches past you to tap the numbers, standing behind you as his fingers move slowly over each one. You want to watch him press the keys, but you can't help but notice his scent envelop you. The freshwater, almost rainy day scent overpowers your senses, and your mind travels back to your fantasy immediately. "One, three, six, nine." The door opens with a beep, and he pulls the handle toward you, nearly pressing you between his chest and the door. "Did you get that?"

"I got it," you exhale, feeling a shiver run down your spine. "I think I can remember that."

"You're a smart girl," Draken notes, holding the door open for you to walk through. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of everything very soon."

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji smut #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji

[kirklandsheartsecrets]

Hello, i love how you write! It's so detailed and precise.

Can i ask about N. Ireland in your style please?

Thank you!!

:3

Northern Ireland x reader II Elation to be held

'Ballybeen – Dundonald City Centre 4a' Connor reads quickly from his phone map.

He knew that outside of the office, the temperature was way different than inside but he didn't think it would be this bad. The wind crashing against his face makes his skin almost numb. He curses in his head about the temperature making things worse.

He puts back his phone in his jacket pocket just like his hands who slightly grip the warmer inside of the jacket. The bus stop is pretty crowded as usual at that time of the day. He sighs as he sees the teenagers from high school walking to the bus stop from afar.

His hands play with his transportation card, the damage done on the small plastic piece meeting with his frozen numb skin.

Most people are focused on the side of where the bus should come from, their heads turned to one side. Connor wondered how could they stay looking to the side for so long. He could feel the pain connected to his neck and shoulders as he slightly tried to also look on the side.

He turns his body as more people turn their heads to catch the illusion of the bus finally coming.

Connor regrets immediately his choices, he listened to the voice in his head instead of listening to his own body pain.

Another wave of cold air slammed against his face, he curses silently again the weather even if he knows he is the only responsible one for not taking his scarf, gloves and beanie this morning before leaving.

His red hair gets messed up and reaches to put it behind his ears, forgetting the cold air his hands were trying to get away from.

Those 4 minutes of waiting for the bus became for Connor longer than waiting for his brothers to get ready for a summit. His shoulders aches, his back too, his neck feels heavy, and now his hands burn from the inside, the pain in his finger bones quickly makes them shift back into his pockets.

The people around him gather near where the bus usually stops and this depends of the mood of the driver scheduled that time. Let alone the fact that sometimes the bus would never even come or stop.

He stops himself from cursing another thing, as his right hand grips the 1 year old transportation card he takes out again, praying his hand will survive the 20 seconds it takes to get in and find a seat.

He got in easily as the bus chose to stop a few more steps further than usual. Connor slides in and gives his card to the driver, normal people wouldn't, they either use tickets or something else, he never asked. But, as a nation, for some random reason he is asked to give it to the driver.

The driver in question was not his favorite, he merely heard him when entering the bus, adding to that he is currently wearing headphones. Connor is too tired to even comment on that right now, when the said driver gives him back his « special » card he walks to the back quickly taking a random seat.

The sigh that left his mouth when he sat down turned into pressure in his head, being tired and the cold outside were making his tired body suffer. Not to add that when he sat down his rarely closed blue long jacket felt extremely uncomfortable against his body.

Both of his hands reach to open the said long-jacket, he is not spending more seconds feeling this uncomfortable. Connor could never understand how Arthur spends his days with closed vests and even a fully closed long-jacket. This was the peak of uncomfort, the same goes for Dylan, under the plain and neck-tied shirt, he often wears a thick sleveless jumper, Connor imagine himself suffocating wearing the same outfits.

However he looks around as people are gathering into the bus and chosing their seats.

'No one will seat next to me great.' Connor thinks, the bus was crowded but not enough to force people sitting next to each other or stand up, 'could be worse' he thinks.

During the bus journey he feels heavily sleepy, probably the overheating of the bus against his left leg and the bus engine vibrating through all the vehicle. Connor cannot keep his eyes open for longer and choose to close them, still keeping his consciousness for when he arrives home.

Those micro bus naps as he likes to call them are the best ones in his opinion. He never slept better than in the bus ride back home.

Connor always wondered why those power naps in the bus he had, felt so great..

Perhaps, he is just tired like everyone else. Or is it the white noise coming from the engine ?

He tries to recall what could be the cause of his tiredness then, it clicks.

It clicks to his mind suddenly.

Connor has slight anxiety, he is overwhelmed by events and such.

Whenever he plans a night out or something with you he always have to get there an hour before, he doesn't sleep at night. He craves the moments with you so much that he feels the excitment forever after. He craves spending time with you, it makes him feel so intense. He feels so much that he doesn't feel anything else, like his body exhausted from the day.

When his final destination appears on the screen showing off the bus journey he questions for a second if he should actually just stay in the bus and keep sleeping.

By the time the mid november night sky made it impossible to look at anything from the bus window. He gathers the leftover energy he has to pull himself out of the bus. He'll have another nap tomorrow on the same ride back home.

His bag in hand, not any power left to have it on his shoulders anymore, Connor makes his way home. Walking there he remembers that he has Dylan over for a week.

They lived and live together more than often, it is no big deal to Connor. Nothing changes.

His mind switches back to you on the few steps left through the neighborhood.

He feels ethereal switching his mind on the one he loves so dearly while walking.. But this feeling stops as soon he sees the familiar door and porch.

Back home, Connor just take off his shoes, put his bag down and lay flat on the couch.

Dylan heard him and left his desk to go greet his brother. They exchanged quickly about their days, and Dylan choose to stay with Connor on the couch.

'Still thinkin' about it ? '

The sentence sounded weird to the red head as it came out of nowhere but straight to the point, and he knew that point. He chose to only nod in response.

'You should sleep more tho-' Dylan continued still staring at the TV playing news. He expected after taking that tone and taking that common english accent a reaction from his brother. He got it immediately after.

'Shut yer mouth with that accent.' Connor sounded offended.

Dylan clapped back quickly, mimicking his own brothers accent and slang,

'Look at ye, don't ye dare tellin' me you ain' makin' this a big of a deal huh ?'

He knew exactly what he was doing,

'I've neva' seen a lad bein' so exhausted from feelin's-' Connor had too much as he bursted out laughing.

'I am tellin' that to them'

'Ye won't dare.' Dyland crossed his arms smiling.

It always worked, he knew about Connor's anxiety. He always knew, but being anxious over someone you love, because they make you so happy ? He chose to help him where Alistair or Arthur would have bothered him over it.

'No' so fast.. what' did ye' do with her today huh ?' Two pairs of green eyes met after, the red-head turned his head back to his sibling.

'We had lunch together.' Connor stared at his legs hanging from the couch, his brother saw the smile reaching lips from thinking of it. Same smile trying desperatly right now to leave the face of the Northern Irish boy. He was already planning in his head their next lunch or talk. He questioned everything you two exchanged about, how you looked at him, and especially how you would hold his hand.

Connor's hands always needed to be hold, growing up no one ever did. He feel the need to hold things when he talks, touch objects when he walks past them. He has now someone who hold his fingers and palms.

Holding hands with the red-head made him overpowered inside. He just wanted to hold and be held.

He absolutely love having his thumb in between your index and middle finger, while the rest of his palm was wrapping around the rest of your hand. He could feel every fiber of your skin and this made him weak.

He secretly craves for you to hold his head from his cheek bones to his red hair where the tips turn slightly lighter.

'That sounds lovely' smiled Dylan, interrupting Connor's thoughts but not the alluring feelings you made him feel on the moment.

-

♡ Well, thank you so much for the resquest! I hope you're gonna enjoy this one.

♡ I don't know what took over me but i decided to play with the detailed thing you mentioned..

#hws northern ireland #aph northern ireland #hws northern ireland x reader #hetalia x reader #hetalia world stars

[halothenthehorns]

How Do You Say Gods

Chapter 18: WE SHOP FOR WATERBEDS

Will, apparently, was a lot more stubborn than Nico would have given him credit for as he persisted, "Hey Nico, you haven't eaten since we've been down here." He hadn't even taken a cookie when Magnus brought them in! He did his level best to sound casual, and unlike Tethys, his clinical tone was pure warmth of concern. "Sure we shouldn't take another break? Hell, we must have been at this most of the day, I sort of want some sleep myself-"

"I said I'm fine Will," Nico said sharply. "We all need to get out of here already."

He expected the son of Apollo to look away and let it go. Instead he was frowning right back and watching him with a very intense expression.

Thalia was sort of worried if she didn't keep reading Nico was going to cut the guys head off, and they were all so busy watching the exchange nobody noticed Alex's guilty look at the bag as Thalia read the chapter title. "That is going to be Percy's idea," she accused.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Percy gave her a pout, "who doesn't love sleeping on those? Maybe we get a free nap that isn't in a venus flytrap and a time-redo."

"Um, sane people who don't want to get seasick in their sleep," she scoffed before starting.

Will acquitted, for now. He'd let this book finish, they did need to get out of this Titan's palace and Percy back to camp, but he'd take the book away before it was done so that he could talk to Nico and make sure he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. His healing touch worked best skin to skin, but you didn't need the gift of Apollo to sense the darkness coming off of him. He would tell Nico once and for all he did belong at camp and make him promise to get his butt there from where ever he was to give it a real shot, one whole summer, and a checkup at minimum that wasn't administered from Tethys.

It was Annabeth's idea.

"That sentence would never get a chance to end badly if you read it like that," Alex laughed at how proud Thalia sounded for such a start.

"And yet I don't disagree," Percy was still smiling along despite the sarcasm.

  She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."

"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."

Annabeth handed him her green LotusCash card.

"Zeus's socks, that whole thing was actually useful if this works," Thalia said mildly.

Nobody agreed with her, even she wasn't so convinced her status would leave her immune to try and risk such a reward for that price.

He looked at it skeptically.

"Swipe it," Annabeth invited.

He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.

Jason let out a throaty whistle, the magic of that casino really was beyond comprehension.

The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.

'Guy was trying to outstrip Apollo's bus,' Thalia grimaced to herself at the thought of being in that car, but she was still trying to read robustly, the only one trying to put on a cheery attitude as the last chapter had still seemed to upset all of them for one reason or another.

On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. I told Annabeth and Grover about my latest dream, but the details got sketchier the more I tried to remember them. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew.

"Wait, what! You didn't mention that!" More than one person shouted at Percy.

He tapped his temple a few times, really trying to concentrate, but ultimately shrugged and said, "sorry guys, if I did in that dream, it must have been distorted by the time I woke up. It just sounded flat, general, male or female, I got nothing."

"Damn Crooked One is right, being able to mess with that," Alex sighed.

"Thalia sounded off too," he tried to explain. "She sounded, younger, different, it might just be the dream or because of time, I don't know," he spread his hands in apology.

"It's okay Percy, nobody blames you," Thalia assured.

The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord" ... some special name or title...

"The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."

Jason smiled absently, Pluto didn't seem so out of character at least.

"Maybe ..." I said, though neither sounded quite right.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."

I shook my head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit ... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

Annabeth's eyes widened.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh ... nothing. I was just-No, it has to be Hades.

Something about this obviously wasn't right. Magnus wished his cousin would trust her instincts more, because this question definitely needed a new angle of approach.

Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong-"

"Like what?"

"I-I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt."

I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale.

"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," I said, "why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"

"To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back."

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat."

"As oppose to the non-evil thoughts of regular goats?" Jason asked.

"Look into the square eyeballs of those things and tell me they have mercy," Percy had seen one on a school trip to a petting zoo, and he wasn't taking it back.

"Why, thank you."

"Compliments?" Will muttered, but hey, whatever worked for him.

"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," I said. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?"

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified.

Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silently willing me not to ask it.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" I asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

"Percy ... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades ... No. It has to be Hades."

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

I got the feeling I was missing one simple, critical piece of information. It was like when I stared at a common word I should know, but I couldn't make sense of it because one or two letters were floating around. The more I thought about my quest, the more I was sure that confronting Hades wasn't the real answer. There was something else going on, something even more dangerous.

"More dangerous than facing down the god of death?" Magnus confirmed.

Nobody answered him, because it existed all around them. If a Titan could hide them away from gods, than clearly even Zeus wasn't the top of the power chain.

Percy was starting to sweat, he had his head in his hands and was shaking it slowly side to side as he longed to hear the obvious out loud, but his friends weren't obliging. Will was fidgeting with guilt, Nico would have loved nothing more than to be the person to explain to Percy for once, but Thalia was stubbornly going on and determined to read this as cheerily as possible if she had to threaten a laugh out of her friend on every page.

The problem was: we were hurtling toward the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt.

"You know what I've yet heard," Jason pointed out, "a strategy on how to get it back from him! Ask nicely?"

The sarcasm slipped out of Alex without restraint, "I'm sure if they just confront him, the lord of the underworld will offer it back with an apology."

"Annabeth kept mentioning Persephone might help us," Percy shrugged, speaking to his lap. Not that this idea had ever gone past praying for guidance, it being summer. "In case you hadn't noticed, we were kind of making it up as we went."

"Remind me to never go on a quest with you," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Aren't we technically on one now?" Will grinned.

"Oh gods no, don't even joke about that," Alex scoffed. "This was far from voluntary!"

"We didn't even get our own prophecy," Nico agreed blandly.

Will sighed in relief Nico was still just talking at all while Thalia finally got back to ignoring them properly.

If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin.

"The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured me. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."

She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject. And believe me, I'd done that enough times.

Magnus had no clue what he was talking about there, he missed school and spent most of his time in the library when he could just to pretend he still had some normal kind of schedule.

The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice.

At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

Jason swallowed such a feeling of homesickness it should have been palpable. The sense of wrongness for all of this had never truly left him, even after all this time, and now more than ever as he tried to inhale and catch just a tiny wisp of a memory. Nothing, as blank as ever.

Grover, Annabeth, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea.

Hearth smiled at such a small comparison, when he'd had the same thought traveling the world tree. Yggdrasil left no doubts it was all connected.

How could there be a god who could control all that? What did my science teacher used to say-two thirds of the earth's surface was covered in water? How could I be the son of someone that powerful?

"You're really still questioning this, after all you've done so far?" Magnus chuckled.

"Hard to let go of your past," Percy whispered, head still in his hands. He missed his mom like a physical ache, he wished Annabeth were here now to call him a seaweed brain and promise him he hadn't been the cause of the end of the world. He enjoyed Thalia's company, all of theirs, but it wasn't the same.

I stepped into the surf.

"Percy?" Annabeth said. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

She called after me, "You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic-"

"I'm sure it wouldn't make his head any more dense," Thalia smiled like Annabeth was here, she could perfectly imagine that aggrieved look on her face anyways.

"I will find a way to make acid rain chase you," Percy promised, finally looking up with a casual smile. He asked her to pause and went to fetch a coke. He came back with a glass full of blue soda and took several sips before waving her on for whatever was next. (How the beverage was staying in the glass and not being mixed with the ocean was not a question any of them were going to ask anymore than why the food was perfectly cooked and didn't taste like salt before.)

Will watched Nico watch him critically now, actively trying now to figure out what that expression on the son of Hades's face was. Not quite longing, not quite hatred, just something like he was demanding a question Percy was unintentionally ignoring as he sorted his own past out.

The son of Poseidon was a roll with the punches kind of guy, he could laugh and shrug anything off so long as he was the one in danger. Nico most definitely needed to get something off his chest about him though. Will now at least had the start of a suspicion Nico was trying to pretend otherwise and it wasn't working so well for him.

That's when my head went under.

I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally.

I walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together.

"Wow," Alex said in appreciation. She'd turned into ocean life plenty of times and swam around in Massachusetts Bay, but that was nothing comparable to the notion Percy was connected to the whole sea like this.

I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark.

"I'd say cool, but also, gah," Jason pointed out.

"I'm just sticking with cool," Percy grinned.

But the thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin.

It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. I grabbed the fin with both hands. It took off, pulling me along. The shark carried me down into the darkness. It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there.

"Thank you, I now never want to visit there," Jason frowned all the more at falling such a height with no clue when you'd impact.

The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure.

Alex opened her mouth but Thalia was still reading.

Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe.

She nodded and closed her mouth back while Percy rolled his eyes.

I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific.

"We're not actually sure where Oceanus's palace is," Thalia said, "but we think it's somewhere in the Mariana Trench. Of course you could just be under the same protection as us, but I think the answer is just yes," she finished with a shrug, not divulging she was so confident of this because he'd been in Poseidon's palace as well, and as far as she knew, his father had done nothing to increase his gift to safely be down there.

Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, like my mother's, called: "Percy Jackson."

As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk.

The nereid was back, and Percy leaned over Thalia's shoulder eagerly to find out how much she'd share with no catfish and garbage to interrupt the message this time.

She pushed his face back away and threatened, "you try peaking ahead mister and I'll give you a nose piercing, I'll even let you pick the arrow."

He huffed and greatly considered taking the book back just to prove his point, but he also wouldn't put it past Thalia to manage to shoot him before he found out anyways.

Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding.

"You seriously make being the son of Poseidon sound like the coolest thing ever," Magnus sighed.

"I don't think we can trade dude," Percy chuckled.

Jason bit back the snide comment nobody would ever ask to be the son of Neptune, just the idea made him smirk, and yet he'd only heard of Percy in combat and knew him to be a formidable foe without the extra of seeing such creatures. It was the utmost disconcerting.

She dismounted. The sea horse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done."

I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed.

"Always a safe place to start!" Jason looked relieved he'd finally showed a normal response, and it wasn't even to a god!

"You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River."

"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court."

"And ... you serve in Poseidon's court?"

She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest."

Suddenly I remembered faces in the waves off Montauk Beach when I was a little boy, reflections of smiling women. Like so many of the weird things in my life, I'd never given it much thought before.

Alex was rubbing her temples at this boy. "I swear if we weren't reading your thoughts I'd be questioning if you had them."

"Not everybody can have the magic of Cosmo and Wanda," he snipped right back.

"And you accused me of making bad references," she raised a brow at him.

"You do have sudden-memory-itis quite often," Magnus sided with her.

Thalia cleared her throat heavily while Percy turned to her in betrayal. "I'm under attack and you want to read!" If she was trying to impersonate Annabeth she was doing a great job of it!

"I have faith you can withstand the barrage," she chuckled.

"If my father is so interested in me," I said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?"

A cold current rose out of the depths.

"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told me. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism."

"Even to their own children?"

"Especially to them. 

Jason was staring down at this tattoo again, but he had a feeling like this wasn't really news to him. Just a sense, and not a reliable one since he'd woken up here and hardly anything matched up with the way he was 'supposed' to feel.

The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."

She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm.

"I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"

"Urn ... no, ma'am."

"Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to man-hood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave.

'Ironic, since he doesn't want his own son there,' Nico clenched his hands up, spirits of the drowned made a wailing noise only he heard but they all felt a sudden cold rush. He exhaled slowly and carefully though and it all settled back down to be forgotten again.

He felt Will's eyes on him this time though and studiously ignored the nosy boy.

 Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson."

She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.

"Wait!" I called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?"

"Good-bye, young hero," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of glowing green, and then she was gone.

I wanted to follow her down into the darkness. I wanted to see the court of Poseidon. But I looked up at the sunset darkening on the surface. My friends were waiting. We had so little time...

"What does it say about my life when Ares was the better interaction!" Percy burst out in frustration, he felt like slamming his head against a wall to get rid of this headache. How was it possible river water had cured him of chimera poison but his head was pounding so hard in his own domain!

"I know Percy, I'm so sorry," Thalia sighed, she would find some way to get revenge on whoever had done this to him.

I kicked upward toward the shore.

When I reached the beach, my clothes dried instantly. I told Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"At least you were handed them and didn't have to hunt those down too," Alex offered.

"I'd still keep the receipt," Jason grumbled.

Magnus had a bad feeling about them though, as he more than anyone vividly remembered what Percy was going to the Underworld to really fetch. There were three pearls, and he intended to come back with four people...

"They were free."

"No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

"The one prize Annabeth will not win is most cheerful award," Will chuckled.

On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea.

With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. I showed the driver the Underworld address slip I'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"Which is really saying something since recording studios have to be a dime a dozen out there," Percy frowned.

"I get the feeling this won't be the kind mortals can find," Thalia kindly reminded.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told me. "You a child actor or something?"

"Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors."

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book.

Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars.

"Can I veto out of my own future quests?" Percy groaned for every part of this being as hard as it was possible to be.

"You wouldn't even if you could," Thalia chuckled.

I froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar-my stepdad, Smelly Gabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters-I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife ... my Camaro ... I-I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"If I can have one good thing come out of this," Percy found himself saying not to anyone in here, "let it be this guy taking a plunger next!" He did not mean the kind with a toilet. He found himself actually thinking of Poseidon, whatever faith he had in his father after that meeting with the nereid, despite his hopeless brain, seemed to have been brought out. His dad hadn't broken a vow in almost seventy years before meeting Sally, surely he must have some care for what his son and beloved mortal were putting up with now that he was taking even the most minor interest in their life?

For just a moment, the water warmed, like dipping your toe into a hot bath as it washed around him. Percy smiled softly, and then blinked in surprise to see nobody seemed to have experienced the feeling. 'Thanks dad,' he grinned for the soft feeling of a promise.

"C'mon," Grover told me. He hauled me away before I could punch a hole in the appliance-store window.

"At least save that for Gabe's store when you get back," Alex agreed vindictively.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid.

"Only if you grew up there," Jason argued at once, "sounds more like a map to a deathtrap between every alley." Enemy territory, his mind was whispering, he knew he'd never traveled there before and didn't want to now.

"I'll always take the big apple over the city of angels," Percy said, "considering this mess." He didn't even have all of his memories back and he had uneasy feelings about California, especially as he glanced at Thalia and was very convinced this was not a welcome state for more than this quest.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too.

Jason still looked grumpy for some weird reason, why he would take an attack on this state as personal as Percy had gave a bit of a clue where he might be from at least.

It only made Thalia's skin crawl as she again glanced at that oddly specific scar on his lip, and now he was apparently from California!

She glanced at Nico and wondered if she should be worried about a ghost haunting them thanks to her.

I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice.

We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Like an idiot, I stopped.

"Admitting to your idiocy doesn't make you less idiotic," Alex frowned.

"So much for New York smarts," Magnus agreed.

"Don't make me separate you two," Percy grumbled inaudibly while they grinned at each other.

Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all-white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids at Yancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys.

'Are they going to offer to sell him a water bed?' Hearth smiled.

Magnus rolled his eyes, he knew his friend wasn't that naïve, but he was curious how that was going to play in at this point.

Instinctively, I uncapped Riptide.

When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

I made the mistake of swinging.

The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the ..."

I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger. "Run!" I screamed at Annabeth and Grover.

We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner.

"There!" Annabeth shouted.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated.

"Ha, it was Annabeth's idea," Percy jubilated as he finally got a shot back at somebody here, even Thalia.

"You started it by stopping, you didn't win anything," Thalia wouldn't give in.

It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified.

"Running from mortals qualifies as an emergency?" Will confirmed.

"World War Three is on the horizon and you're on a deadline, but sure this is the priority," Thalia agreed.

"Let's see you two at this!" Percy sighed, but he had an annoying feeling they would just fine. He really wished Annabeth was down here to argue with them properly, but she also might spend the entire time on a presentation with slides he thought fondly.

We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped.

Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit.

"Hang on!" Magnus raised his hand, paused for a moment with his eyes completely glazed over, before nodding and dropping as he finished processing. "Okay, I'm good, continue."

Alex was laughing remorselessly while Hearth was regretting having asked about dinosaurs right now as odd as that seemed to him too.

He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck-I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are.

"Explain to me again how you mouthed off to Mars but not wana be mobster number five?" Jason asked.

"No, you guys lost your rights during this chapter," Percy scoffed. "You'll get them back when you stop criticizing the twelve year old's."

"Oh, so, never," Alex shrugged without concern.

"Sorry to barge in," I told him. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom.

There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"And none of them would still contain some people's inflated egos," Thalia smirked, imagining Hera for starters as someone she wished she could drop from the pantheon for such misfortunes.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.

Nico's mouth ticked, just the smallest hint of a smile as he couldn't deny how cool that kind of sounded.

Will let out a sigh of relief he'd deny he'd been holding as his demeanor finally relaxed even just a bit from the cold aura he'd gone back to giving off from back at the start.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way.

"Um," I said, "I don't think ..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."

"I'm gunna kill Grover," Jason frowned, this had trap written all over it, and not just because it was the chapter title.

"Nobody kills my satyr but me," Percy defended, but it was half-hearted at best as he wanted to smack him for this too.

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

Crusty, the named nagged at something in Nico's mind, something to do with beds, he was sure he had a card over that- not that he cared.

"Almost what?" I asked.

He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

Annabeth said, "But what-"

He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter.

Thalia's smile was flickering like a bad reception, that bed sounded awesome and something she'd put into her tent, she might even need it as she tensed up again feeling another fight coming. Annabeth had never mentioned this place at all, which meant nothing too important had happened here...

When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.

That snapped everybody to attention, Magnus's hands balled into a fist as he now easily imagined locking this guy in a freezer no matter what he looked like!

Percy's hand was now fisted around his pen, but his fingers were trembling to much to take the cap off. They hadn't seen how fast this guy moved, he'd never get Riptide out in time. He needed Annabeth for this one!

"Hey!" she protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!"

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress.

"That's not what that means!" Magnus yelped in surprise.

"This is not time for a vocab lesson!" Thalia snapped back.*

Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down.

"N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"

The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and grinned. "Almost, darn it."

I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."

"What do you mean?"

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit."

"Procrustes," Nico realized. Ugh, what a useless card, it was only available in the water deck and leveled out the playing field to- he forced his brain to stop, again. Why did such childish thoughts have to keep lingering.

"Mythomagic?" Will confirmed. Nico flushed and didn't answer, but he was sure he recognized that now familiar rise and fall of excitement. "You might have to teach me how to play, sounds like this game could be a lifesaver."

Nico didn't answer, but he was side eying Will again as each wondered of the other what his problem was.

Annabeth and Grover kept struggling.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!"

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends.

"Don't worry," Crusty told me, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?"

"Percy!" Grover yelled.

My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant water-bed salesman alone.

"Not with that attitude!" Alex groaned. "You're surrounded by water in those beds, try drowning him!"

"He might charge me for popping them," Percy said with a straight face, not at all blushing for not even thinking of this.

He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out.

"Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" I asked.

"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.

"The Stretcher," I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens.

"I'm suddenly thankful Oceanus hasn't tried that tactic," Magnus muttered.

"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that."

"You're right. It's got a good ring to it."

"Procrustean does not mean pandering Percy," Magnus sighed.

"You can read the dictionary to me later," Percy lied.

His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely," I said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"

"Not too many."

"That's right!"

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," I told Procrustes. "She's impossible."

"You're lucky she's being strangled or she would have drop kicked you to that bed," Thalia said confidently.

"She still might if I don't rescue her in time," Percy nodded. 

The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."

"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."

He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."

"That is a terrible sales pitch!" Jason yelped.

"I agree, let's see if I get through to him," Percy groaned.

"Ah," I said, swallowing hard. "Sensible."

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose.

"A true noise of terror I'm sure," Will nodded.

"So, Crusty ..." I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"

"Absolutely. Try it out."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress.

"I am almost insulted he fell for that," Magnus frowned.

'Monsters still have the same essence we all do, to be seen,' Hearth smiled.

"No waves. See?"

I snapped my fingers. "Ergo."

Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Center him just right," I said.

The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"What a hypocrite, I was imagining him being six feet perfectly at least," Magnus frowned.

"We don't question the monsters faulty logic of not following their own rules," Percy shrugged.

"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."

I uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments ..."

I had no qualms about what I was about to do. If Crusty were human, I couldn't hurt him anyway. If he was a monster, he deserved to turn into dust for a while.

"You drive a hard bargain," he told me. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'"

"You've got to admire he's still trying," Alex said.

"I'm almost tempted to take that deal and still lop his head off," Thalia agreed.

"I think I'll start with the top." I raised my sword.

"No money down! No interest for six months!"

I swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers.

I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot.

"You look taller," I said.

"Puberty," Will said tragically, "girls are always taller than us when we need it least."

"Yes, I'm so sure that was it," Percy laughed in relief.

"Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

"You're welcome," Percy smirked like she was here now to roll her eyes at him again.

I looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters-"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map.

"It's the little things about this mess that get me," Jason nodded, "you guys have almost literally stumbled into everything helpful."

"Never underestimate the power of the fates," Thalia shrugged.

"We get none of the credit here?" Percy pouted.

"Three percent," Jason mocked.

"Come on," I told my friends.

"Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death.'"

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said. "It's only a block from here."

"I wonder if he gave discounts for mileage," Thalia said while looking around at Nico curiously. He'd offered to take the book from her last time, but she didn't want to force him back to talking if he didn't want to yet.

PJOPJOPJO

*Now is the time for the vocab lesson. Ergo means therefor, but in Greek, it means work.

#Percy Jackson #PJO #Thalia Grace #Reading the books #fanfiction #How Do You Say Gods #big three's kids #Nico di Angelo #Will solace #solangleo #solanglo #jason grace #alex fierro #magnus chase #Gods of Asgard #Hearthstone

[hinatastinygiant]

Chapter Sixteen

Epidermolysis Bullosa

Pairing: Haikyuu!! x Fem!Reader

previous | next | 2099

After endless bickering between Atsumu and Osamu, the former finally decides to stick with his brother. Tsukishima then arrives with Kenma and Kuroo. Apparently, he wandered the building but couldn't find Osamu- most likely because they ran out just after he ran in.

"So both of you are going back with us then?" you ask Osamu.

"Yes, and then we'll both be out of your way, I promise," he replies.

"Thank god," Tsukishima and Bokuto both whisper.

It takes about a day, but finally, you reach home. Tsukishima drives the bus down your familiar streets until he turns the corner and you can see your covered garden in the distance. However, just outside it where you left your makeshift first-aid kit, you find three people laying on the ground.

"The hell is that?" Kuroo curses as he leans forward in his seat and squints his eyes.

"Two women and one man. They look...dead," Tsukishima adds.

The two brothers approach where you stand behind the driver's seat. "I know what that is," Atsumu adds, "they've probably got that virus that's been goin' around."

"Either that or they actually are dead," Osamu shrugs.

"There's no virus," you sigh. "Kiyoko heard of it, too, but I haven't seen a single case of it this whole time. It's just a rumor that's been spread around. I hate to say it but I think they're gone. Maybe some kind of falling out over the supplies."

"Or maybe the supplies didn't work," Kenma adds.

"Hang on, who the fuck are you acting all high and mighty about the goddamn virus?" Atsumu spits.

"Tsumu, chill out. She's the one who let you on this damn bus, remember?" Osamu attempts to calm his brother down.

"I don't give a shit. Why do all of you just blindly agree with everything she says like she's some kind of brain surgeon or something," he continues to shout.

"Well, I'm not a brain surgeon but I am a doctor so I'd like to think I'm still well qualified to determine a person's condition," you smile politely at him just to piss him off that much more.

Atsumu finally shuts his mouth and lets his brother pull him away from his spot towering right over you. Knowing you won, you just ignore him and go back to figuring out just who is laying in your front yard.

"Tsukishima, can you pull over here so I can get out? It'll be best if one of us goes to see what's happening before we all get out."

"With that logic, shouldn't someone else go?" Kuroo interrupts. "I mean, you're a doctor. If something happens to you-"

"But I need to make sure the three of them are alive. I'll know how to help if they are, too. And if it is some imaginary virus, I'll know how to keep myself safe from it."

Tsukishima and Kuroo exchange a look just as the bus' door opens up. You thank the two of them and rush out to check on the three people on your lawn. You also take note of how Tsukishima parks the bus in the same spot he always puts it in. 

When you arrive at the three bodies in your front yard, you recognize them as some of your patients: Yachi, Alisa, and Lev. They're all alive, thankfully, but what's strange is that they have blisters and tears all over their skin. Their clothes are perfectly intact, but their bodies are bloodied and all scarred up.

"Y/N," Yachi calls out in a hoarse voice. "You're finally back. We've been waiting for you for two days."

"Two days?! Haven't you eaten since then?" you ask as you rush to her side, placing her head in your lap. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine," she coughs out. "I think Alisa and Lev are asleep right now though. I hope they're not..."

"What's going on?" you ask her. "It looks like you were in some kind of accident?"

"Haven't you heard, Y/N? There's a virus going around. We caught it."

When her words hit your brain, you immediately place her head back down in the grass and back away. "Shit, Yachi, why didn't you mention something sooner?!"

"I thought you knew," she explains weakly. "Please help us."

"I don't even know what this is," you try to explain. "I don't know how?"

All of a sudden, Kuroo and Kenma start running over. When you see them drawing near, you call for them to stop.

"What is it, Y/N?" Kuroo asks.

"Are they alive?" Kenma questions as well.

"They are but I'm not sure what's going on. If I didn't know any better I'd think it looks like Epidermolysis Bullosa but that's a genetic disease, not some random virus."

"What is, uh, whatever you just said?" Kuroo continues to wonder aloud.

"It's a condition that makes a person's skin so fragile that it can blister at the smallest bit of contact. Kind of like a butterfly's wing. But I don't know how something like that could transfer into a spreading virus. Whatever you do, though, don't get too close."

"What should we do?" Kenma asks helpfully, showing you a different side of him than the pie thief you once knew him as.

"Let's set up a tent. I'll do what I can and then quarantine them for a while," you suggest.

"Got it. C'mon, Kenma, let's go. I'll show you where the tents are," Kuroo says before the two of them run off.

"Let me take a look at what's left in here," you then tell Yachi as you reach for the first aid kit. "Hopefully I can find something to help."

"It's still full. I don't think anyone was here before we came and I'm sure we scared anybody else off afterward," she tells you as though she was about to fall asleep as she spoke.

You then begin to rummage through the contents of the kit. You find some petroleum jelly and Vaseline gauze which you pull out and leave to the side. You've got absolutely no idea how to treat this so-called virus, but hopefully, you can ease and control the symptoms until they go away like viruses usually do.

When you reach Yachi again, you rub the jelly on her burns. Her skin still blisters and bleeds as you gently touch her skin, but once she's wrapped up, you can hardly tell anything was wrong. Well, besides the blood still seeping through the gauze and the look of death around her face.

A little while later, Kuroo and Kenma return. They both offer to carry Yachi into the tent, but you explain the concept of quarantining and staying away from Yachi as much as possible. They still put up a fight, wanting to be of some more use, but eventually give in to allowing you to help Yachi on your own.

Once Yachi is all set up in her tent, you wake up Alisa and Lev for their own treatments. Meanwhile, Kuroo and Kenma explain to the others what's going on. When you get back from giving your three patients some food and closing up the quarantined tent, you hear the racket from inside the bus only grow louder.

"Why the hell is she helping them? They're only gonna get us fucking killed?!" Atsumu protests. "Samu, we need to get the fuck out of here before Y/N-" he shouts before he notices you walking into the tent. "Don't you think you should be quarantining, too?" he then scoffs.

"If you're gonna be such a goddamn dick all of the time, why don't you both just leave?" Kuroo shouts back.

"That is what you said, isn't it, Osamu?" Tsukishima agrees.

"I wanted to," Osamu sighs. "That was my plan, but Atsumu didn't tell me..."

"He didn't tell you what?" you reiterate calmly once Osamu trails off and stops talking. "What's going on?"

"Tsumu got in some fight with one of his friends. The reason he's acting like this is 'cause he's concussed," Osamu admits.

"I'm tellin' you, I'm fine! It was well over two weeks ago at this point," Atsumu grumbles.

"Concussion symptoms can last up to several months, especially untreated," you explain.

"Yeah, and, well, he's got a dislocated shoulder on top of it. I was hoping maybe you could help him out, Y/N. I know we don't deserve your help anymore, not after everything we both said and did, but I'd really appreciate it if you would even consider giving us the chance."

You look over at Tsukishima, whose face screams 'not a chance in hell', but you know better than to just let the two of them walk away untreated. It wouldn't sit right with you, either. 

"I'll help him but I'll need to make a trip to get supplies at my old office first. I'll go right now before it gets dark. Is that okay?"

"Yes, thank you so much," Osamu nods furiously. Atsumu, however, looks way more surprised than his brother. He looks at you curiously as you give him a slight smile and nod before walking off to get your inevitable ear-chewing-off by Tsukishima over with.

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[mariolandavid]

Pai

We departed Chiang Mai early one sunny morning; heading to the town bus station to catch one of the many connections that take you over and up the snaking hills into the sleepy little town of Pai.

Pai is a landmark destination round here. It's billed as being an unspoilt piece of trannquil heaven in a bustling busy world. A place left preserved and relaxed in the midst of stunning Thai hills, verdant landscapes and buddhist zen peace. Backpackers have trekked here for years and it's an infamous kind of "come for 2 days, stay for 2 months" kind of destination.

Getting there however comes with its own challenges. Firstly, there are a set amount of buses a day, if they're all full, you're a bit stuck. When I say 'bus', please don't think of National Express. This is a van. You are not really treated differently to the luggage except that mercifully no one will try strapping you to the roof. A guy crosses you off a list, you get in the van, strap yourself in and buckle up for the 4 hour ride.

And I mean, you buckle up.

The road to Pai comes paved not with hopes, dreams or gold, but with bends. Twists and turns. 762 of them to be terrifyingly precise as many people were to us. And you're also told "you will feel every single one of them" I guess given that you are in effectively a Ford Transit Van without a ton of suspension, that makes sense, the other thing not going in your favour on having a restful journey is the dramatic lack of patience the drivers of these vans have for any stopping, waiting, basic traffic etiquette or pity.

Two spaniards joined us (obviously) with the bravado to attempt sketchwork on this journey. 762 bends. Unless they had forearms made of weighted granite, or were drawing meandering rivers and lightning bolts, I didn't see how this was gonna work out.

A pair of German girls, tried to appeal to the sensibility of the driver. "Can I sit at the back or the front please, I get car sick" came the perfectly reasonable request. "No time for that here I'm afraid girlie. Buckle up and bring a bag" was the abridged response from the driver, giving the luggage he had already spent his valuable time strapping in precedence over the safety of remaining vomit free of the rest of his passengers.

We watched one of these girls gradually shed the pallor of her skin minute by minute in this van, clutching a paper bag in anticipatory dread as the moment never came to break the nausea. The sketchbook too, slowly ruined, as we lunged at terrifying pace into 180 degree hairpins before it was quietly put away. Instead you saw a van full of young 20-30 somethings intensely staring out of the window or at single points on the floor. Clutching at a bag, a headrest, the ceiling, or another human as intently as a newborn baby clutching its mother in an attempt to not be flung to another seat.

Mariola popped a couple of seasickness pills and settled into a quiet stupor. I retreated into Series 4 of the Wire. The two breaks for snacks and the cursory 'customs check' (bribe stop) passed by happily before we arrived at our destination a full hour an 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Yes, I was not kidding when I said we were hurtling through those bends. Take the damn seasickness pills anyone reading this.

Arriving at Pai you appreciate why it's had such a roaring backpacker trade for so long. It's a sleepy little town. A couple of long main streets with side offshoots. A host of bars with a combination of old traditional thai looking wooden shacks and new "distressed" but clearly well funded western aimed eateries and boozeries; the place bristles with Gap Yah energy. You can fondle crystals & try on elephant pants while you wait for your coffee & browse an astonishing array of mediation & yoga retreats. At any moment someone could take your flat white order and enquire about your Chakras. It's 100 Baht for a motorbike if you want to see the surrounding area. There's worse places to learn to drive a bike than Pai. Traffic's minimal and the roads are wide and open. The whole place just oozes a relaxed feel. You can choose your own pace and rhythm and get all life's little enjoyments.

Oh and marijuana is legal and ubiquitous. That's the other thing about why this place is a hit with the backpackers. Historically unique to Pai as being more 'laid back' with the laws, since June 2022 Marijuana has been a legally regulated substance evrywhere in Thailand, so now you can find it in the corner shop next to the Mentos. The culture in Pai hasn't changed though, it seems pretty fundamental to the way of living here.

We were staying in Rim Pai Cottage, a peaceful quiet little place with its own pool down by the river. Greeted by a receptionist of indeterminate fluid gender we were shown to our rooms (an upgrade over the Nolo Hub in Pai, after the scarring experience of our hostel in Phnom Penh). Opposite us a terrifically passive aggressive sign lay in front of the cafe stating how much their patrons didn't like wifi because it meant people didn't talk and that drunk people were not welcome and they had no toilet suggested we were staying opposite the most boring cafe in Thailand, but the hotel was nice at the least.

We settled in and started to explore the town. First grabbing some lunch in Charlie and Lek, some absolutely delicious pad kra pao and chicken mince laab, stunningly fresh and herby. On our way back, we saw a sign propped up outside a desk listing PAI TOURS. For the couple of chickens too scared to get a motorbike, this was what we needed. Guided organised fun. We sat ourselves down, had a quick chat with the owners and quickly found something for us. Tubing down the Pai river and a sunset trip to Pai Canyon, the local beauty spot.

What's tubing you say? Well, picture yourself in a boat on a river. Now picture yourself being hurled from that boat with nothing but a car tyre to keep you afloat as you drift down a, not inconsiderably fast, flowing river clutching a plastic bag of booze. Sounds fun right?

It's harder than it looks.

Jumping in the back of a pick up truck with four young french boys we sailed through the countryside before joining a bigger convoy of, largely israeli, people in front of a huge pile of rubber tubes by the river. Everyone got a chance to buy beers at the local shop before nestling into our tubes and being pushed into the current.

Almost immediately, the brave were separated from the rest. Anyone willing to just throw themselves their arms and limbs into anything simply pinballed off each shore, any rocks and each other merrily down the river. Anyone with a fear of using their hands and feet for propulsion and steering, or in the case of one girl, her eyes, as she couldn't bear to look in front of her, was left behind.

It's basically a lot of spinning and bumping. Like open water dodgems if in the dodgems, most of your floor had given way beneath you and was rapidly flooding. Saying you're in control is a heady bit of arrogance. Sure you can spin a bit, but basically you're left to the current and you're gonna spin a lot and bump into stuff. You can 'usually' get yourself unstuck from the shoreline if you hit something like a rock, tree or local villager, but if not a master tuber was patrolling the convoy laughing at us and spinnning everyone back in the right direction. This guy, unlike us, could move in any direction he chose using two tubes as if they were just his legs. So maybe you can get there with the control one day... respect tube man.

A blissful journey of bumping, saying hi to local people whose fishing traps we tried not to ruin and me singing Old Man River to myself in the middle of some rapids, we floated back to Pai town and got back in a van to head to Pai Canyon for the sunset.

Pai Canyon is a stunning rock formation up a few carved steps that puts you in mind of the Grand Canyon. It's stunning colours, with lush huge trees dotted around and a stunning view over the mountains as the sun sets. It was full. Every person in the village seems to come here for sunset with most in flip flops attempting mountaineering that Havaiana probably never anticipated and many get halfway through before giving up in fright.

It's worth it to get a good spot. Glinting around the landscape seems like it changes colour. You'll see the orange of the floor glimmer and glow as it shifts through a spectrum of red, brown and orange. The flaming burning sun gradually getting smaller and smaller as it nestles behind the mountain peaks, peaking past the soaring trees as everyone around you pauses and holds for breath as the last drops of light squeeze from the sky. Nature still kicks ass at letting us pass the time.

One snappy ride back later we went out to dinnner at Nong beer, getting a whole raft of local thai dishes from sizzling peanut satay, the classic Khao soi chicken which Mariola's raging addiction to was becoming worrisome & a delectable Burmese hanglay curry which just melted in the mouth. All around us the evening markets were hitting their full stride, with everything on offer to buy from t shirts, to momo's, & everything inbetwee, even tea sold in a bamboo tube by a guy in a damn Viking helmet. The place really came alive at night. It felt like the whole town came out to sell, to eat, sing and dance and the streets lit up to greet the night. Not everywhere was open yet, you could see a sizeable going out street basically still shut post Covid, but there was a really nice buzz for such a small town.

As we walked back we thought, hell, lets give a couple of bars a visit. Dropping by Jikko & the Bottle and Cat's whiskers, we'd spend the evening plotting out South Korea, talking to the owners and fending off being peer pressured into more beers and browsing through the Bottle & Cat's Whisker's Ipad menu at the array of bafflingly named blends on offer.

My memory starts to fade a bit at this point as Pai kind of shifted into a blur. It stopped being a list of activities done and places visited. It was enjoyment of being in a place. You can understand why people might lose themselves here, why they stay more days than they mean to, because this whole town invites very little pressure. It meets your basic needs, it's not trying to grab your attention in every second, it doesn't make you feel inadequate for not doing 'the next thing'. It leaves you options, it lets you be present. You choose what to do. You enjoy.

I'll mention two other places we went to deserving of a small mention and leave you there:

Pedlar - Decked out like we'd stumbled back into Bishopsgate or Hackney, distressed instagram steel, concrete and pastel paint everywhere. Black orange coffee, overnight oats & breakfast wraps were all enough to override the guilt of basically going to a London coffee shop while you're in a small Thai village

Ganita - Delicious vegan food that unforrtunately, on account of being the main billed vegan restaurant in town, attracted the most awkward people in town demanding late serving, the provenance of every single ingredient in every dish and that what they want was made even if it was off menu... enough to make you think no wonder these places clientele gets a bad wrap, but the did a mean Gado Gado and falafel!

Oh and the journey back was no better. Take the damn seasickness pills. Back to Chiang Mai!

[triplethreatt]

You did it! Thank you, bus driver. 

#fnite #fortnite battle royale #galactus #fngraphics #fortnite x marvel #fortnite #ch2 s4 #the devourer of worlds #the devourer of worlds event #fortnite gif #my gifs #(please give us bus driver skin) #flashing lights #flashing images #fortnite animation

[rommahh]

{Harry….this show…the purple…I am a changed woman. Also this is a tame fic. More soft. Nothing flashy.}

Harry was quick to rush to his dressing room after sending his fans off with multiple air kisses and waves. He was ready to be back in his hotel room so he could call his love.

Tonight’s show left him feeling extremely confident and happy. The fans energy fed him to be louder and rowdier on stage. He read so many funny signs and sang happy birthday to some girls who, now that he thinks about it, probably didn’t actually have a birthday today.

He waited for his band to come off stage before giving them all a small hug and running to leave the venue before fans started crowding outside. His driver waited outside the venue waiting for Harry to exit. Harry couldn’t be more grateful for how quickly the driver was able to get Harry to his hotel.

Inside his hotel room, he closed the door behind him before letting out a long sigh. Walking into his room he was met with a beautiful bouquet of purple flowers. He knew they were from you which made his night even better.

He pulled his phone out to send you a quick text.

Just got back to hotel, you mind if I shower before calling you?

You do whatever you need to do my love. If you’re too tired, I can wait to talk to you tomorrow.

Never too tired for my princess, I’ll be quick in the shower then I’ll call you!

By quick he really meant a 45 minute shower to get the sweat grime off of his body. Harry lambert also requests that Harry has his outfit of the night hanging on a hanger right after the show to air out.

With his body clad in his favorite sweats and hair clipped back with one of your pastel hair clips, he climbs into the lush hotel bed. Your soft blanket you used on the tour bus sat beside him. He often snuggles with it because he like that it smells like your perfume.

You awaited your call from Harry clad in your own sweats, cuddled on the couch in the living that sat in front of the big windows that showed you the big ocean outside. The sun was finally coming down on your part of the country, three hours behind Harry.

The familiar FaceTime tune rung from your phone and you wasted no time answering.

“My bubby!” You exclaimed with excitement. His exhausted face pulled into a large smile, a soft blush smattering his cheeks.

“I’m so happy to see your face.” He comments. You were looking better than you did a few days ago. Your skin had a shine and you looked more at peace.

“We just talked a few hours ago silly boy.”

“A few hours too long.” He grumbled cozying into the blankets on his bed. You slipped a blanket of your own over your legs. “What have you been up to?”

“What do you mean? I’ve been watching you all evening.” Harry’s eyebrow shot up in surprise.

“You watched the show?”

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss it for nothing. You’ve got some really amazing and dedicated fans who live-streamed the whole thing. I watched you dance around on stage, quite scantily if you ask me.” You joke with him. Harry’s dancing was the highlight of your night. He shimmied and shook his butt for the audience and it was hilarious.

“Im never inappropriate. I put on family friendly shows.” He jokingly scoffs with his nose turned up.

“Mmm…right. Anyways, I saw you pick up some fun stuff as well. People were really throwing a lot up tonight.” You got worried watching people throw things at him on stage but you just had to trust that no one had any ill will or intentions.

“I did catch some fun stuff. Caught a pretty sunflower, a few boas, and some flags. That’s it. The usual things.” You saw the way his eyes were fluttering with sleepiness.

“Oh ok. Could’ve sworn I saw you play with some handcuffs on stage.” You chastise with a small smile. Harry’s eyes opened wide as he started to laugh.

“Oh yeah! I forgot about those. That was a weird one.”

“Well did you at least keep them? I could’ve found a really good use for them.” Harry tsks at you.

“You naughty, naughty girl.” He lets out a large yawn sinking further into his pillows. You could see the way he turns to lay on his side and grab the soft blanket beside him. You thought he would cover himself with the blanket but instead he brought the blanket just under his nose. He snuggled the blanket into his face- melting into the softness.

“Ok baby, I can tell you’re tired. Would you like me to leave you to rest?” You whisper softly. You wish you could be in bed with him, caressing his cheek to lull him asleep.

“No please don’t hang up. Just- just tell me about your day.” You could hear him drag his words as he struggled to stay awake. He needed a moment with you to feel grounded.

You listened to him though. You only got through a few minutes of your day before his hand went dead weight with sleep and the phone plopped on the bed beside him. You giggled quietly.

“Goodnight Bubby. I can’t wait to be with you again.”

#Harry styles fic #harry styles love on tour #Harry styles love on tour Washington DC #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles #hslot

[frostedfaves]

Naive (2)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You quickly discover that Wanda is different during the night.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, mental manipulation, smut: oral, fingering, overstimulation, edging, penetration, sex toy use, dom/sub dynamics, biting, slapping(? just a lil)

A/N: no more thoughts except please share your own after reading this! writing this slutty shit kept me sane today so enjoy

Previous part

-

To your surprise and relief that eventually transformed into disappointment, Wanda didn’t make an appearance at all for the rest of the week. You spent each shift for the next few days anticipating her return, watching for her over the heads of shorter customers and through the shelves on your way in and out of the bookstore. You were starting to think that she was simply passing through your town and you were just lucky enough to cross paths with her.

“Hi there.”

“Wanda!” you yelp after looking up from your phone hidden behind the register, clearing your throat as you tuck it in your pocket. “Um, can I get you anything?”

“I’m surprised you remember me,” she laughs. “I’m sure you get hundreds of customers a day.” 

“You left a lasting impression,” you admit before you can stop yourself and she grins.

“So did you.”

There’s a brief pause before she adds your name to the end of her sentence with a flicker of something unrecognizable in her eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you go to ask again what she’d like in the same moment she places a bottle of water on the counter.

“I got a really good recommendation the last time I was here, and I’d like to have it again.”

“Coming right up.” You ring up the exact same order, letting your gaze wander to her hand again as she inserts her card. “I never got to tell you how much I love your rings.”

“What?” She lifts her hand after removing her card and chuckles breathlessly. “Oh yeah, thanks.”

A frown appears on your features when you notice the way she grabs the receipt from you, almost as if she’s actively avoiding brushing fingers with you in the same way she did during her last visit. You’re able to replace the frown with a customer service smile, but you can’t shake the feeling that you experienced rejection before even posing a question. 

“I’ll bring it out to you soon,” you tell her before moving to the glass case, grabbing the food items and frowning again when you find her staring at you from the other side. “Is there something else I can get you?”

“What time do you get off today?” she asks in a rushed fashion.

“What?”

“I mean do you have any plans when your shift is done? I meet people all day long and you’re the first person that I’ve wanted to have a conversation with that lasts longer than a few minutes,” she explains a bit slower. 

“I only have an hour left,” you tell her as you slide her food into the oven. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe you could show me what fun things I could get into in this area. I’m a bit further away, Lane County, but I’m starting to enjoy it here more.”

“Well there’s a fair happening on the other side of town, if you don’t mind a long bus ride. I’m guessing you don’t since you live in Lane and you somehow ended up here.”

“Oh, I have a car.” She holds up her car keys with a grin and you laugh.

“Well then…” You pause and look over the counter to see that she’s wearing pants today. “I hope you’re not afraid of rollercoasters.”

-

Aside from the occasional flirting when you have no customers, Wanda waits patiently at the same table as before, standing and joining you the moment you reappear on the other side of the counter without your apron. Her rings are tucked away again, and she dares to brush her knuckles against yours as the two of you leave the bookstore.

“Let me get that for you,” she insists, jogging ahead of you to open the car door and you laugh.

“Is this a date? Should I be nervous right now?” you ask in a joking tone, well aware that you’re genuinely wondering.

“Only if you want it to be.”

You take a deep breath while she crosses to the driver’s side, offering her a casual smile once she’s seated next to you. She denies your request to give her the address, insisting that she’ll be able to follow your directions better instead of admitting that she just wants to hear your voice as much as possible. So you lead her to the expansive fairgrounds on the other side of town, feeling excitement build in your heart the closer you get to your destination.

“This place must hold some memories for you,” Wanda acknowledges your wide grin as she parks.

“No, I just haven’t been in a while,” you admit as you both get out of the car. “Friends are too busy and I try to avoid nighttime bus rides as much as possible.”

“You know, I don’t mind giving you rides at night. I’m well aware that public transportation isn’t the safest form of travel.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that! You live too far.”

“Okay then.” Wanda meets you near the fair entrance and grabs your hand, sliding her fingers between yours. “I won’t give you the chance to ask.”

The two of you are latched onto each other, fingers intertwined the whole night aside from being secured on rides or bathroom trips. You’re walking into the games area, each holding a drink when you suddenly pull Wanda over to a booth. 

“Sorry, I just saw that huge giraffe and wanted to try to win it!” you explain as you release her hand to grab a ticket from your pocket. “Can you hold my drink?”

While your back is turned, Wanda sets both drinks on a nearby table and slips her rings onto her hands, returning just in time for you to finish the game. She hands your drink back to you carefully and reaches out to grab the small stuffed toy you’re offered, brushing her fingers against the attendant’s hand as she did so.

“She wants the giraffe,” she threatens, retreating with a pleased smile when he immediately pulls it down for you. “Thank you!”

“How did you do that?!” you question as she hands it to you. “I mean thank you so much, but wow. I’ve never seen anyone give in so easily.”

“I’ve spent most of my life figuring out how to get what I want, love,” she tells you in a low tone, and a shiver travels down your spine when her hand makes contact with your hip. “What do you think about getting out of here?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you agree quietly, starting to feel as if every other thought that enters your mind is incoherent. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m taking you home.”

You assume she followed up on her word because you find yourself outside of your apartment building, and her hand closes around your wrist before you can leave the car.

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.”

“Me too,” you admit, unable to prevent the smile that appears. “I guess this means you’re interested in more than friendship with me.”

“Is it that obvious?” She chuckles quietly as she raises her free hand to your jaw, watching you silently fall against her palm. “I’d bet you’d be a wonderful partner. My best girl.”

“I’d be so good for you,” you reply without hesitation, beginning to feel fuzzy and warm the longer she holds onto you.

“Yeah?” 

Your wrist drops onto the center console as the hand that isn’t resting on your jaw slips under the elastic waistband of your pants and underwear. You gasp when her fingertips begin teasing your entrance, bucking your hips slightly when you feel pressure on your clit.

“Wanda--”

“Shh, it’s okay, darling,” she assures you, slipping her thumb between your parted lips and grinning when they close around her without a fight. “I want to see how good you can be for me.”

She uses her middle finger to stroke slowly over your clit, eyes flickering over to your hips occasionally as they follow her movements. Her thumb slips further into your mouth, and your eyes flutter open when her ring touches your lips and a new sensation follows.

“You’re fine,” she soothes you when you let out a muffled whimper, sighing when she notices a group of people turn the corner at the end of the block and begin heading your way. “Let’s go inside. I don’t need an audience.”

Her fingers are removed from your underwear and in her mouth in seconds, and she practically growls as she cleans the bit of mess you left behind. You hurry out of the car and lead Wanda to your apartment, even in your haze able to remember to get her inside before Ruth sees you. In a few blinks, she’s hovering over you on the bed, and just when you think you can’t handle any more overwhelming sensations, she kisses you.

It’s breathtaking, quite literally you feel air leaving your lungs as if she’s stealing it herself. Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut and the grip she has on your waist is almost painful, but you can’t bring yourself to complain when she’s guiding you to grind on her thigh. Her lips are replaced with two of her fingers as she begins making her way down your body, carefully undressing you with her free hand and biting and kissing the skin she exposes.

“You’re unbearably wet,” she comments from between your legs, dipping her tongue inside you while stroking yours with her fingertips and humming loudly so you’ll arch into her more. “So fucking good.”

Her tongue is replaced with her fingers, and she begins slowly pumping in and out of you while sucking on your clit just to get a reaction. She grabs your hands as they go for her hair and hold them together by the wrists, readjusting so that her thumb can circle your clit when she pulls her head away.

“Being good means not touching unless I tell you to,” she scolds.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly through moans as she picks up her pace while adding another finger.

“You’ll have plenty of time to learn. I’ve decided to make you mine.” She continues to finger you as she brings herself back over you, ignoring your gasp when you notice her darkened eyes and pinning your hands above your head. “I can’t wait to make it official.”

Her head dips down and you fall over the edge just as she sucks your earlobe into her mouth, thrusting into you forcefully as she continues you fuck you well past the end of your orgasm while her other hand pushes your pinned wrists into the mattress as hard as she can. You’re just about to cum again when she pulls away entirely, quickly unzipping her pants and freeing a toy she had tucked away.

“That’s really big,” you comment with wide eyes that immediately flutter closed when she pushes the head of the toy inside you. “Fuck.”

“Watch your mouth,” she warns you with a quick slap on your cheek, lowering her hand to hold onto your neck just below your jaw while thrusting into you more. “If it’s so big, why is my pussy swallowing it so easily?”

“Because I want it,” you whine, releasing a loud moan when she slams her hips against yours. “Please please please, I want it.”

“I know you do, love.”

Her other hand pins your wrist against the mattress again as she leans forward and begins fucking into you as hard as she can. She slips her thumb back into your mouth to reduce your screams to muffled whines, grinning to herself when you sink your teeth into her flesh a few times.

“Begging for something you can’t even handle,” she teases, prying your mouth open with her thumb as she lowers her head closer to yours. “Perhaps we should start over.”

She waits until you start to cum and slips her tongue into your waiting mouth, and everything goes dark.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics #frosty's smut

[macnevercries]

Hurt me? You could never (Kirishima x Plus F!reader)

Warnings- face riding, oral(receiving), plus sized reader, female pronouns/body, alcohol use, (slight dub con?)

Word Count- 2k

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The sway of the music was heavy as you moved with it, lost in a mob of people. Your hips circled drunkenly, dancing the night away in a pit of sweaty people enjoying themselves as much as you. As the room rolled and jolted you started feeling hot, the sudden flashes of temperature overwhelming you. You started to tug at your top, trying to get it off to relieve yourself of the burning sensation in your body. The fabric clung to your skin and you started getting angry. Just as the shirt started to give way it was tugged back down by a pair of large hands. You almost screamed in annoyance, turning around to see your boyfriend standing behind you, holding your drinks and trying to have you keep your dignity. Your annoyance turned to a soft smile, then a giddy laugh when you spotted the alcohol. Swiping towards the drink in his hand, you almost feel over with the motion. Kirishima dragged the cup away from you, steadying you on his muscular arm.

“I think that’s enough for tonight sweetheart” Kirishima consoled you, smiling at your cute pout.

“Kiri it’s sooooo hot in here, help me cool down” you mumbled, slumping into his chest. A deep chuckle erupted from him, your childish antics humourous.

“Were gonna go home now, okay babes? He asked, pulling you up into his arms, discarding the drinks in the nearest trash can. You mumbled an okay as he pulled you towards the exit, the blaring sounds of yelling and bass fading the further you got from the crowd. Kirishima nodded at the bouncer as you exited the club, pushing the heavy door open and out into the dark rainy parking lot. Clubbing was fun for you two but somehow it always ended in him taking care of you. Your weight had fluctuated over the years but you were always a little fuller than the other girls you knew. Despite your weight, you could not hold your alcohol. Kirishima had seen your drunken state many times and while it could be a hassle, he loved the way your soft body clung to him, you were a needy drunk.

 The rain soaked through your white top, exposing the pink Lacey bra you were wearing. Kirishima felt his pants tighten a little, looking at you in the rain, smiling brightly and lighting up his world. You had always shined so bright to him, even on your worst days. Kirishima ushered you into the car, leaning over your full breasts to buckle you in. He held in a breath at the touch, he could sense you sobering up and he was definitely in the mood. He got in the drivers seat and started the car, handing you some water to sip on for the drive home. For 15 minutes Kirishima was silent, only occasionally looking over at you to check and make sure you were fine. Every time he peeked at you and you had your lips wrapped around the straw of the water bottle he gulped, speeding up slightly, his anticipation building from within.

When you guys pull up to your shared home the red haired man practically runs around the car to open your door. He offers to help you walk but you’re almost sober now from all of the water you drink. Kirishima walks behind you up the driveway and steps to the door, watching the way your hips sway in your skin-tight clothes. Kirishima’s love had boosted your confidence a lot since you guys started dating and he was glad because tight clothes were definitely a blessing to his eyes. He had always had a thing for bigger girls, your soft figure brought him comfort when his own body and quirk wouldn’t allow it. Taking off your shoes at the entryway and locking the door, you headed to the bathroom to use it before slumping on the couch. The clock on the wall read 2am, it was too late to be awake. You leaned your head down on the pillows, resting your eyes momentarily. The catnap did not last long because after around two minutes you felt heavy gaze scanning your body. 

Sure enough when you opened your eyes, Kirishima was in front of you, gazing at you lovingly with half lidded eyes. Your top clung to your chest in all the right ways and the way you were laying accentuated your curves, to Kirishima you look delicious. Kirishima started towards you, crawling onto the couch beside you and snuggling himself between your thick legs, having his head rest on your plush chest. The slow up and down of your breathing both calmed him down and spurred him on more. You look at his flustered face, amused at how heated he was. Had you done something while you were drunk? Pushing that thought aside you accepted Kirishima, softly petting his head and running your fingers through his hair, making him sigh. His barely audible mumbles of praise and ‘I love you’ made you smile. He buried his face into your chest as you rubbed away his tension. 

Slowly he tugged at the neck of your shirt, pulling it down slightly so he could kiss up your collarbone. His kisses made you shiver, you could feel the lust and need oozing out of him. He rotated so that you were on top on him, pressed against him in the most tantalizing way. His lips traveled up your neck and your jaw until they reached your lips. He met you with a passionate kiss, hungry and desperate. He hiked your thighs around his waist, standing up and walking towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. No matter how heavy you were, Kirishima was stronger. He never had an issue lifting you and the way he did it made it seem so easy. 

He set you down on the bed and then crawled around you so that he was laying down behind you. You glanced back at him questioningly but the look on his face frightened you. He had a lazy grin and a mischievous glint in his eye, something enjoyable on his mind. 

“What is it Kiri?” you asked hesitantly, afraid of what you were about to find out. At your question he grinned wider, his sharp teeth sparkling in the dimly lit room. He pulled you close to him and leaned into your ear

“I want you to ride my face” he purred, happy with his idea. At his words you turned beet red, shaking your head aggressively and backing up slightly. This was definitely not what you expected. He pouted at your discontent with his idea.

“Baby please, you would look so good on top of me and you taste so good. God I want you in my mouth” He assured you, tugging you closer to him again.

“What if I hurt you? Eiji you know I’m too big for this.” you sighed, disappointed too. Maybe in a different scenario but this could never happen.

“Hurt me?” he laughed. Your eyes popped open, shocked by his change in demeanor. 

“Do you know what I would give to suffocate in these thighs?” he asked, squeezing your leg with love, but his grip was a little hard. 

“Just get on top of my face, if it doesn't work then we’ll stop, I promise” he reassured, stroking your back and coaxing you on top on him. Your will broke at his words, after all his idea was appetizing to you too. You took your pants off, tossing them in a far corner before situating yourself on the red head’s shoulders. He grabbed the back of your thighs, drawing you closer to his face. You couldn't help but turn away, despite the number of times you guys have had sex, Kiri’s pure love and devotion to you made you squirm. 

He licked a wet stripe up your panties suddenly, causing you to gasp. On instinct, your hips rutted back into his face and he chuckled, you muttered apologies, embarrassed by your lack of composure, You went to climb off of him, ready to go hide away but not before Kirishima could grab your hips with a bruising grip. Your head snapped back in his direction.

“You're not going anywhere kitten, we haven't even started.” He pulled your panties to the side and the cold air against your exposed core made you shiver. At the sight of your glistening cunt he licked his lips and got to work.

His tongue pressed flat against your cunt, licking heated and hungry stripes up you. He’d go down to tease your entrance and then up to circle your clit, sucking lightly and grazing it with his teeth. The pattern he created left you on a rollercoaster of feelings, moaning, mewling and dragging yourself against his face. Every time your hips stuttered and you got close he’d pull away to focus somewhere else. You whined, aggravated by his teasing. Some time passed and he kept his rhythm, never letting you finish. By now you were fuming, boiling over with rage.

“Eiji what the fuck” you spat when he changed stopped again for the umpth time. He looked up at you with the most innocent eyes, trying to convey his confusion with his mouth still buried in you.

“Why won’t you let me finish? I want to cum, please Eiji, make me cum” You purred. If he was gonna be like this then you would play his game. At your words something sparked in his eyes. His hips rutted up from the bed, your affect washing over his entire body. He curled one of his hands away from your thigh and prodded your entrance with his thick fingers. Slipping two in easily he watched in awe as emotions flashed past your eyes and you ground yourself down onto them.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, just like that baby” He murmured, causing you to go faster. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking with all of his might. His tongue flicked over your sensitive bud, teeth grazing it. His name flowed from your mouth as you humped down onto him, trying to snap the tightly wound coil that has been building up since you guys began. He pushed his fingers in a little deeper, twisting them and curling them right where you wanted him. This sent you flying over the edge, cussing and moaning as your orgasm hit you like a bus. He coaxed you through it, slowing his attack and letting you come down gently.

You slide off of his face, laying down in the bed beside him, still panting. Rolling over on your side, you nuzzle in his neck, placing your hand on his broad chest and basking in your post-orgasm glow. A nice familiar haze settled over you, happiness and lust blurring together.

“Thank you Eiji, that was amazing.” you breathed. He laughed lightly when he turned to you, a pleased expression on your face. 

“Of course, I don’t know who enjoyed it more, me or you.” He smiled, fond thoughts of you racing his mind. You kiss his neck, flitting around and placing butterfly pecks all over him. He giggles at your antics, rubbing your back encouragingly. 

“I love you, you know that right?” he asked, kissing your forehead and tilting your chin up so you would meet his eyes. You beamed up at him.

“I love you too”

#bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #kirishima eijirou #kirishima #plus size #chubby reader

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Is there somewhere - BTS royal / bodyguard au Drabble part 4

So after this I was thinking of writing some prequels to the Drabble series before moving ahead with time and the challenges these lovely characters would face ongoing. Same with the CEO drabbles, as always let me know what you think {angst and fluff ahead}

Prev | Next

————————————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t seen them for a month. You told yourself you were glad, that it didn’t hurt you that they gave up. You asked them to leave, you would stick by that, and this proved you right.

These things happened for a reason, you tell yourself, and while life was still a dense cloud hanging over you, it didn’t rain. Since that night trouble stopped following you, no one approached you in the clubs, the paparazzi stopped following you, you felt safe again, by yourself without any bodyguards.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Y/n,” your childhood friend sat across from you at a little quaint cafe in the town closest to your castle. You would have invited her to your place but the mess increased tenfold, that being said, you think your father must be sending people to clean while you were out. He hadn’t said anything about it, you were grateful he hadn’t, you weren’t ready to have that conversation with the King. He was always too busy for you, so this gesture came as a shock.

“I’ve missed you Y/n,” Sana says taking your hand in hers and squeezing it earnestly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry I’m okay,” you say reassuringly.

“Y/n it’s a cloudy day and you’re wearing sunglasses,” you take by her sarcasm she doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve got a headache that’s all,” you bury your head behind the brunch menu, pretending to look over the options as she hums in response. It had been years but she still knew you well, and this was nothing like you were.

“Who hurt my friend?” She asks reading through your behaviour like she read the newspaper articles about it online, hence the impromptu visit from half a world away despite her own busy schedule.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past,” and yet it’s still so present. The wound might be healing but it was leaving a red swollen scar in its place.

She lets the subject drop noticing how your shield goes up.

“Your bodyguard is really hot, if you wanted to invite him in to join us I wouldn’t mind,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood but her words have the opposite effect on you.

“My what?” You breathe, you don’t have bodyguards. You turn to face where her eyes are set behind you and sure enough, outside the glass windows trying to look conspicuous is a man in a suit you’d recognise anywhere. You hate how your heart starts to ache as it beats faster, how there’s a hum of electricity starting to burn under your skin.

“Is that not your bodyguard? You used to talk about them so much, that’s....” she squints her eyes at the male, who bows his head in panic realising he’s been caught. “Jin! Right?”

Every time you FaceTimed Sana one of the boys would be with you, not on the screen unless it was Jin or Jimin but professionally standing out of the cameras range staying with you trying not to smile as you gushed about them with her, begging one of them to say hello. Yoongi and Taehyung were the only ones to ever give in. They would say hello shyly before standing at their post, Jin and Jimin on the other hand would sit on the bed or sofa with you. Jimin would make you blush and tease you while talking to Sana, Jin would tell her all your bad habits and complain about you playfully. Namjoon and Hobi never gave in, you were close to breaking Jungkook’s resolve before he left.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to her, rising from your seat to walk to the guilty looking male who’s ears have turned red. He says something in his sleeve and you realise the others must be close by or at least contactable. It all suddenly makes sense, you hadn’t seen them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The house, your father was far too busy to burden himself with your mess, the sudden calm around you where normally there’d be a bustle of cameras and people.

“Princess,” he greets you bashfully, embarrassed for getting caught and complicating things. “Funny seeing you here, I was just waiting for a friend...”

“Liar,” you whisper, but it’s loud enough to shut him up.

“I can explain,” his cheeks are going red like his ears, you don’t know what you feel. There’s an emptiness that presents its self in his presence, like your body is trying to protect itself by going numb, even though your heart is begging you not to.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you close your eyes at the wave of sadness that overwhelms you. “I think you need to leave.”

You repeat your words from a month ago and it still cuts through him the same as it did then.

“I can’t...” he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Jin you’re not my bodyguard anymore, this is harassment,” your cold eyes pierce through him but he stands strong against your onslaught.

“Actually...” he tries to chuckle but it dies as soon as it leaves his mouth. “Well you see, w-we- no your father... the king,” there’s a pause as he clears his throat and his hesitation irritates you.

“We’ve been reinstated as your bodyguards by order of the King,” a new voice behind you saves the stuttering man in front. You can’t help the fists form at your side as your mouth sets itself in a line. You turn to face Namjoon with a stern expression.

“No.” He knew you’d be stubborn, he knew it was a little underhanded of them, but after that day they couldn’t leave you like this. They would give you space, hope they could redeem themselves slowly, but they also had to keep you safe. They didn’t care you were next in line for the throne, they didn’t care their feelings for you were inappropriate in their line of work, you meant the world to them, you were their friend, and they couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m really sorry Princess, but the decisions been made,” he answers you sincerely. “We won’t get in your way, you won’t know we’re here, bu-”

“I said no,” your lips are tight, eyes enraged as you clench your jaw. He sighs, but he knows it would take time to heal the rift between you and the seven men.

You were right when you thought the rest of them were close behind, Yoongi and Jimin walk into your field of vision behind Namjoon, blazers buttoned, Jimin’s hair jelled back, Yoongi’s hand in his pocket. The sight takes you back and it knocks your confidence a little.

“Well that’s treason Princess,” Yoongi reasons with a small smirk forming on his face. “I guess that would get rid of us for you, being beheaded by the King.”

You shake your head is disbelief, a big sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes to gather strength.

“I can’t do this right now,” you walk away back to your friend who’s eyes haven’t left the interaction. “I’ll deal with this later.”

——————————————————————————

You wonder what happened to their promise to stay out of sight and out of mind the following Saturday.

Maybe you walked through the bad part of town on purpose, maybe you wanted to piss them off or put yourself in danger, maybe you just wanted some control. A man that looks like trouble wolf whistles as you walk in his direction, and you smile like he’s your salvation. You don’t make it another two steps as a hand grabs your arm forcefully. You turn to find an angry Hoseok glaring at the man now cat calling you before turning his glare to you, nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

You physically have to stop yourself from gulping at his aura, you know if pushed Hobi would cause harm to anyone that disrespected you. His grip on your arm tightens as the man doesn’t stop yelling profanities at you, he’s obviously intoxicated not that it excused his behaviour. Hobi hadn’t spoken a word, you can see him trying to ground himself and his anger, starting to lose his control, trying to regain his cool.

The guilt washes over you at his gaze, your smirk long gone as you struggle to keep eye contact. He hasn’t seen your face soften like this in so long, a glimpse of the old you coming back with concern.

“Hobi I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.”

His eyes are shut and he’s shaking with fury, at the man, at you, at himself.

“Hobi please,” you cup his cheek with your palm, stroking your thumb against his skin, feeling panic rising in yourself. The man is in front of you both now and you feel shame for making such a stupid decision. You press your forehead against his jaw as he stares daggers at the man.

“Your boyfriend giving you problems sexy?” He wears a shit eating grin as he speaks. “You looking for a bit of fun?”

Your touch calms your bodyguard enough to clear the haze of anger that threatens to attack the man where he stands. He releases a big breath before taking your wrist and walking you both away, pace unforgiving.

He still doesn’t say a word as you both get to the car, he pulls open the backseat door aggressively, looking at you expectedly. You don’t argue, you don’t scoff, you don’t walk away. Your eyes are round, looking up at him, begging for forgiveness. How the tables turn.

You get in without complaint, flinching as he slams the door shut. He gets into the drivers seat, putting his seat belt on before staring at you through the rear view mirror, jaw still clenched. You look lost, he hasn’t started the car and he hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“The seatbelt Y/n,” it’s a low growl and you quickly move to lock yours in place at his tone. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s trying to escape. You don’t blame it, your hands are curled on your knees like a child ready to be scolded and you can’t look ahead as he pulls off.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t say a word the whole journey, scared a single sound would set him off. His grip was unrelenting on the wheel, you don’t think he cooled down at all even though he made sure he wasn’t driving recklessly with you in the car.

He doesn’t take you back to the castle, he takes you to their place. They rarely used to be at home when they worked for you, the castle was large enough for them to stay and they had no reason not to. You hesitate to leave the vehicle when Hobi opens the door for you, he’s patient even through his fury. He holds a hand out for you to take like they used to.

You want to ask him what you’re doing here, why he’s brought you, but you decide to take his hand and let him lead you indoors.

“Princess?” It’s odd to see Jungkook in his normal clothes, to see any of them in their casual wear, it looks homely. They all stare between you and Hobi, looking confused as you both walked into the living room.

You were staring at the floor as he explained where you were when he was on duty, the others now looked at you in shock and disappointment. It was hard for you to hear too, like he was talking about someone else, another girl, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Princess this really has to stop,” it’s Jimin that breaks the silence after Hobi’s speech. His usual sweet disposition was wiped away with worry. “I get it, we messed up, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself Y/n.”

You don’t raise your head to meet his words, you stay with your eyes down and feet cemented where you stood. There’s a finger under your chin but you move your head to the side to avoid it bringing your face up.

“We’re really sorry,” Taehyung whispers beside you.

They blamed themselves for everything you had been through since the moment they left, but how could they undo it, how could they make this okay? His words don’t comfort you, they hurt you, they bring up the night they left all over again. But you feel the sincerity in his words, how hoarse it sounds, filled with every desire to turn the clock back. It brings tears to your eyes, it makes you choke on the emotion rising in your throat. You want it to be okay too, but you couldn’t erase the abandonment they left you with.

There’s a hand rubbing your back soothingly as your bottom lip trembles and your shoulders shake trying to keep the sobs down.

“It’s okay,” the hand on your back moves to your hair, and Taehyung rests his lips on your temple as he speaks. “We hurt you Princess, shout at us, let it out, cry, just stop holding it in.”

If you did as he said it would make you vulnerable again, you’d be letting them in and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. But he wasn’t wrong, holding all the pain down without a healthy form of release was making that gaping hole in your chest erode the rest of you away.

“I’m-m s-so a-angry-” you struggle to get your words out, having to take a shallow breathe with each word as they came out in a sob and it physically hurt you to speak. “At all o-of you.”

Tae’s crying too, Jungkook’s behind you but you can hear him sniffle. You lean into the Taehyung, pushing your face into his neck as you close your eyes and break down, he doesn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you when you think you’re about to fall.

“You had each other,” you wail, not caring at how deranged you sounded. “I had no one, you left me when I was injured!” Your head drops to his chest as you bang your fist against Taehyung’s chest finally letting it all out, and he takes it without bracing himself for each hit. “I needed you and you guys broke me.

Who was I supposed to talk to? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to the people of my world. My bodyguards abandoned me, so fucking what? Get new ones.”

You grip his top that’s stained with your tears, you’re so angry, so heartbroken and the only people that would listen and help where the ones to cause you this pain.

“But you weren’t just my guards, you were my friends and I thought you all felt the same.”

There’s a whisper of “we do” but you ignore it.

They’ve never seen you like this, not when Taeyeon revealed her true colours, not when Sana moved away, you had said goodbye to people before, it was a part of life but nothing compared to when they left you, and you knew why, you just didn’t want to admit to it out loud. You didn’t want their pity, the pathetic Princess who had no friends who fell in love with her knights in shining armour, the people who were employed to ensure your safety. Misplaced feelings because you had no one else, you could hear Namjoon’s lecture already. They had never see you that way, if they had they wouldn’t have left.

If only you knew the thoughts running through the rest of their brains, how could they tell you they were compromised, that they broke your trust by falling for you, that every protocol dictated to them in their training stated they couldn’t keep a charge safe if they had feelings for them, they had to resign. Looking back it was the worst decision they ever made, but at the time it seemed like the most appropriate.

You scoff through your tears, “if you felt the same you would’ve at least come to see me, but you didn’t, you would’ve at least called or texted but you blocked my number, I tried to contact you everyday for the first two weeks and it was like you all didn’t exist anymore.”

There’s a grasp softly pulling you out of Taehyung’s hold and he whines as you’re taken away. Namjoon’s eyes are red, he looks like he’s on the brink of tears himself, but he holds it together.

“We’re so sorry Y/n,” he could never stop saying it, even if he did earn your forgiveness it could never assuage the guilt that weighed on them. “We honestly thought it was the right thing to do, if we kne-”

“On what planet was that ever the right thing to do Joon?” You cut him off, you didn’t want excuses.

“We made a mistake, leaving you was a mistake but we made one before that,” you frown at his words, what mistake? He contemplates his words but there’s no way mince them, no way to make what he’s about to say any easier. He’s not trying to make excuses, he’s not trying to justify his behaviour he just wanted to be honest. “We fell in love with our charge, the biggest offence we could commit, the biggest threat to your safety was us.”

He watches your eyes go wide as tears streamed down your face, he waited for your disgust, your displeasure.

“We are so in love with you Princess, it killed us to leave you but you have to believe me when I say we thought it was for the best.”

You can’t breathe. He wants you to say something, he needs you to say something, anything. You just stare at him in disbelief until you find the words to speak.

“Are you so stupid?” You gasp, gaze flickering to all their faces, theyre holding their breaths. “Are you all so blind that you couldn’t see that I was in love with you too?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to stare at you in disbelief, their jaws dropped.

“How stupid could you be Namjoon! Did you even think for a seco-” your voice is muffled by his chest as he pulls you into him, and he finally lets himself cry. You were right he was so stupid, he always prided himself on his intellect but look at the mess he made. He holds you like he’d never let you go, tight like you’d disappear in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and it breaks your heart, you’ve never heard the leader sound like this. You sigh deeply in his arms, warmth finally starting to fill the hole.

“It’ll be alright Joonie,” you hug him back and he’s so grateful for you in that moment. “We’ll work through it.”

You have to believe that you will. More arms wrap around you both, tears of relief, tears of hope mixed with apologetic whispers, words of comfort. You feel the warmest you have in months.

#bts au #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts fic #bts x reader #bts scenarios #taehyung fanfic #bts poly #bts polyamory #bts poly!au #poly bts #bts ot7 x reader #bts royal au #jimin au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #hobi au #seokjin x reader #jungkook drabble #BTS imagine #BTS scenario

[marvelous-harry]

Harry getting bent over and spanked for being a tease at one of his shows

For the blurb night ❤

"Did you like it?" Harry asked as once we entered the tour bus. "You've barely said a word," he added as he dropped his bag onto the floor and closed the partition between us and the bus driver.

I continued to ignore him as I walked all the way to the back of the bus and into the little bedroom.

"Mama?" Harry asked quietly as he followed me like a lost puppy. "Are you mad at me?" he fiddled with his fingers.

I took a seat on the bed and scooted back a bit. "You were very naughty tonight, baby," I told him as I looked at him, trying to keep serious as his face fell.

"Noo, I wasn't!" Harry protested and whimpered.

"Yes, you were. Very naughty actually. Showing everyone your tits and shaking your little butt for them. Being a right tease all night," I tilted my head to the side.

"Get undressed and get your paddle out," I ordered him.

Harry closed the door before he quickly stripped out of his sweaty concert clothes, letting them fall to the floor. As he stepped past me and bent over to get the paddle that we kept in a duffle bag under the bed, I couldn't help myself and gave his bum a little smack with my hand.

"Hurry up! You're not stalling, are you? That would be very naughty," I tutted.

Harry let out a little grunt and quickly grabbed the paddle. "Not stalling!" he said flustered and when he straightened up and handed the paddle over I could see that his cock was growing hard.

Taking the paddle, I moved a smidge to the side so that Harry could lie down with his chest on the bed as he had his legs over one of mine.

Putting the paddle against his bum, I stroked it back and forth before raising it and bringing it back down hard. "Who were you shaking your bum for hu? Such whore behaviour right in front of everyone to see. Very naughty," I brought the paddle back down.

Harry grasped onto the bedsheets as he whined. "Was for you, Mama. Wanted to give you a good show," he licked his lips.

Spanking him hard with the paddle several times in a row, I smirked when he started to squirm and his bum was turning a delicious red colour. "So you admit that you were being a tease?" I asked him.

Harry whimpered. "Yes," he replied quietly with a slight blush in his cheeks.

"Made all the people in the arena want you, giving them a taste of what they can't have," I said as I gave him smack after smack. "Doesn't matter in the end cause you're my boy," I said as I gave him an extra hard paddle.

"Fuck! Mama, please!" Harry yelped as he thrust his cock against my leg.

Putting the paddle behind me, I gave him a few smacks with my bare hand before digging my nails into his burning bum cheeks and dragged them over the red, sensitive skin. "Get on your back," I ordered.

Harry moaned and scrambled to comply, moving to the middle of the bed - panting as he looked at me, his eyes brimming with lust while his cock lay hard against his stomach.

Standing up, I took off my clothes before straddling his hips. Rubbing my wet pussy against his cock, I smirked as he let out the most pitiful noise as he arched up against me. "Please, Mama," he begged.

Reaching down between us, I held his cock up as I slowly lowered myself down on him. My smirk grew as he moaned. "Time for me to show you my moves,"

#harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fiction

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Good night, Mr Cavill

Part 2 - The journey begins

06/07/2021

Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,105

Warnings: rpf, cringeworthy use of youth slang (I tried my best here to translate all the terms my students usually use into English 🤷‍♀️), flirty Mr Cavill (I think that is worth a warning), language

Summary: The group is setting out on their school trip early in the morning and while his students are eager to get a few more hours of sleep, Mr Cavill is quite in a flirty mood.

A/N: After almost a decade of teaching and countless trips with my students, I'm now providing you with a best of compilation in this and the future chapters of the story. At least 90% of student interaction that is depicted from now on happened exactly like this.

Picture by Annie Spratt via Unsplash

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

“A wonderful good morning to you, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard the Sunshine Express,” Henry chirped into the microphone.

“Please, Mr Cavill. It’s not even six yet, give us a break.”

“Yeah, can you turn down the cheerfulness a little, we’d like to sleep here in the back.”

She couldn’t suppress an amused chuckle when she saw his enthusiasm wither away in an instant. Shrugging helplessly, his right eyebrow cocked like it was so often, he looked over at his colleague for help. But instead of coming to his aid, she just mirrored his expression, her smirk growing even wider.

“You’re lucky you find me in a good mood this morning, guys. Otherwise I wouldn’t forgive such outrageous impoliteness easily.”

As an answer, there came only more groans and even an irritated grunt, probably from Steven, who seemed to be the sleepiest of them all.

“Alright, I won’t bother you for long, I just wanted to welcome our special guest Miss Y/L/N in our midst, who so kindly volunteered in accompanying us on our excursion on such short notice.”

Surprisingly, that seemed to wake them up a little, at least some of them, who felt called to shout their welcomes through the bus.

“Welcome, Miss Y/L/N,” Vivianne squeaked in her usual high pitched voice, before Silvio took the trouble of rising from his seat, obviously mistaking the bus for a football stadium, and whooped, “Best teacher! You’re GOAT, Miss Y/L/N!”

Shaking his head in disapproval upon the lack of composure, Henry fixed the boy with a stern look and it didn’t need one word from him for Silvio to take the hint and sit back down, raising his hands in a silent apology.

“Terrific, so I wish everyone an enjoyable trip and now, may you sleep peacefully until we reach our destination.”

He handed the microphone back to the driver, before he, as she supposed, made to return to his seat, only that he didn’t. And she could do nothing but sit and watch as he let himself sink into the free seat beside her, effectively squeezing her in between his impressive body and the window.

“You should have seen their faces when I told them you would take Miss Myrtle’s place. They were over the moon.”

“Yeah, right,” she dismissed his story with a roll of her eyes.

“No, honestly. They genuinely like you.”

“That probably just shows I’m not strict enough with them.”

“Believe what you want,” he stated with a gesture of resignation, “but I think you’re a much better teacher than you give yourself credit for.”

Once again, she could feel white heat rush from her stomach to her cheeks, like it did so often when she found herself in his presence. And the beaming smile he shot her didn’t help either, his tanned skin covered in a golden hue by the early morning sun. These were going to be the four most trying days of her life so far.

“Should we maybe go over the schedule of activities again? I mean, you hardly had any time to prepare for this trip, so - “

“No, I’m good. Today is solely reserved for the journey and settling in, followed by an exploration of the surroundings. Tomorrow morning we’ll visit ‘Dialogue in the dark’, which I’m actually really looking forward to, and then the students will have the afternoon off. Day three is entirely dedicated to some team building activities at the beach and the next day we’ll go home after breakfast.”

Impressed by her immaculate knowledge, he clapped his hands in an impromptu applause and she couldn’t help her eyes from falling to his large biceps that was straining against his sleeves, threatening to tear the blue fabric that matched the colour of his irises perfectly.

“Well, you really do know your onions, don’t you? Except—”

“Except what?” she snapped out of her trance making him chuckle as he noticed what had caused her disarray.

“Except you forgot the clubbing on our last night.”

Yes, the clubbing. She had meant to have a word on that with him anyway.

“Ah, right. By the way, do you actually think it is a good idea to take a bunch of sixteen-year-olds who are constantly fighting a battle with their hormones to a night club? I still don’t know how you got Mosley to agree to that. I mean, how are we supposed to ensure they don’t drink or take drugs or lose their virginity in one of the bathroom stalls?”

Another deep chuckle rolled from his chest, his pecs bouncing to the rhythm of his amusement, and for a second, she lost her train of thought.

“Are you speaking from your own experience here?”

“What? No!” she stammered, “I just thought…ugh…never mind.” Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she turned away from him, pointedly staring at the world that flew by outside.

“Gosh, you’re really cute when you’re flustered.” And even though she couldn’t see it, the smug smile on his lips was more than evident, riling her up a bit more than he already had. Stupid cocky jerk. “But don’t worry. The club offers a special student experience every Thursday evening. There will be no alcohol and it is only open for student groups. I’m not as stupid as I might seem, you know.”

His last remark made her spin around so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash.

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” She really didn’t. He might be a bit too confident for his own good, obtrusive at times and even a little priggish every now and then, but never had she thought of him as stupid.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Casually, his hand landed on her thigh in a slight smack. An innocent gesture really, even though a bit too friendly given that they didn’t know each other very well, but it was enough to coax all kinds of inappropriate thoughts from her corrupted mind. Especially when he let it rest there for a few more seconds, the heat of his large palm slowly seeping through her jeans, the intimacy of his touch only intensified by the blatant manner in which he had his eyes fixed on hers. “I suggest you try to find some rest as well before the little gremlins become conscious again. I’ll keep an eye on them in the meantime.” His fingers squeezed her supple flesh encouragingly, before he pushed himself out of the seat and with a wink that made her very thankful she was already sitting down, he was gone.

Part 3

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