#I miss Greece So much and can’t wait to go back

[captainkaltar]

Tholos of Athena

Delphi, Greece

Photos by me, October 2022

#Delphi #tagamemnon #Greece #Ancient Greece #Athena #Hellenic Polytheism #Captain Kaltar’s Personal Log #I miss Greece So much and can’t wait to go back

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, references to past Colin Shea x Female Reader & past Johnny Storm x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking & implied drug use, explicit language, bad boyfriend (Colin continues to be awful, even though we haven't actually seen him since part 2), self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. She's still having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, here it is! As I currently have it planned, this will be seven parts, so we're officially past the halfway point now. This part's a little shorter, but I'm hoping you'll think it's worth it.

Big thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down the new character here! (If you don't remember doing that Carly, it's because it was ages ago 🤣)

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The drive to the restaurant was uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just you. Sitting in the backseat alone, while Curtis and Jensen quietly conversed in the front, you felt ridiculous. You should learn how to drive. You were a grown woman who couldn’t even get herself anywhere—just another way you didn’t know how to be responsible for yourself.

You stared at Curtis in the front seat. It’d been a few weeks since your boundaries conversation. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. He was right. It was better. Cleaner. But you missed being able to talk to him.

Something had changed about the way he watched you though. You would swear that it was more intense now, the way his eyes followed you around the room. And it always seemed like he had something to say, he’d just never say it. He didn’t make any sense.

You took a breath. You were nervous about this lunch. You weren’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was, aside from the fact that Marnie Reynolds had wanted to meet. You hadn’t seen her in years and then she just texted you out of the blue two days ago, asking if you wanted to have lunch. You assumed she was going to pitch you something. Why else would she want to talk? You hoped it’d be something easy to agree to. It would make Wilford and Tanya feel better if someone actively wanted to work with you, at the very least. 

The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place you normally went to. It was nice, but tucked away, not designed for those who wanted to see and be seen. Marnie had chosen it. She was waiting for you at a small table in the back, even more private. She stood as you approached and enveloped you in a warm hug. She was just as glamorous as you remembered, suddenly hit by memories of sitting in her trailer while she let you try on her jewelry. She’d always been so nice to you. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” she said as you both sat down. 

You smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?” 

“Oh, good, good,” she said with a big smile. “Just got back from a shoot in Greece. Happy to be home.” Her eyes lost a little of their luster as she asked, “How are you, darling?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you said. You could tell she wanted you to say more, but you just nodded and shrugged.

“Well,” she looked at you carefully, “I can’t get over how grown up you are. I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll always see you as the sixteen-year-old I met at the table read ten years ago.”

 “You and all of America,” you said dryly before you could think better of it.

Instead of chastising you, she just nodded. “I’m very grateful I didn’t have to grow up so publicly and then have to make that transition to being an adult. I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

You shrugged again. You didn’t really know what to say to her.

“Which, speaking of, I owe you an apology.”

Panic rose in your chest. Oh, god. Had she sold a story about you? Said something private in an interview? Blocked you from a new role? You weren’t sure you could handle one more thing right now. “Oh?” you asked shakily.

She nodded, seriously. “I should have done a better job of keeping in touch with you after we’d finished the movie. I owed you that much. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow, confused.  “That’s fine. You’ve been so busy. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. I mean, you won an Oscar. I know how much work that takes.”

“Mmm,” she said, “and you sent me flowers.”

You shrugged. You just kept shrugging. “Well, you were always kind to me, and I was so happy for you. It seemed like the least I should do.”

 “You were always so sweet. I’m so happy to see that hasn’t changed.”

At the sincerity on her face, you looked down at your menu. You didn’t know what to say to that. 

“How’s your mom?” she asked, her tone strangely cautious. “Is she still your manager?”

“Oh, no. Wilford helped me get a new one when I turned 18. He thought I needed someone more experienced.”

She let out a breath, almost like she was relieved. “I have to admit, I’m happy to hear that.” You gave her a confused look and she continued softly, “She was always so hard on you. It was part of why I always invited you to my trailer. It seemed like you could really use a break from her.” She gave you another impossibly warm smile. “Plus, you were such great company. I loved making that movie with you.”

You couldn’t hide your relief when the server chose that moment to take your orders. You didn’t know what to do with the fondness in Marnie’s eyes. 

Once you were both done ordering, you decided you were ready to talk business. “So, what’s the project?” you asked.

She looked confused. “Project?”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you wanted to pitch me? The reason you asked me here.”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m sorry. There’s no project. I just wanted to see you.”

That didn’t make sense. That she didn’t want to work with you again made sense. No one did, so of course she didn’t either. But then why else were you here? “I don’t understand,” you said quietly.

She let out a sad little sigh. “I’ve seen some of what’s been going on with you, online, and it just seems like you need a friend. I want to be that for you. I think about you more than you know.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

She grabbed your hand over the table. “There’s so much going on for you right now. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, and then to have to deal with it in public too.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at your joined hands on the table. Then, finally, still looking down, “Uh, yeah. I’m having a pretty hard time.”

She squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” 

You finally looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You weren’t sure you could.

She looked at you carefully. “Have you thought about taking a break at all?”

You were reminded of Curtis, sitting on your couch, looking at you so earnestly, talking about taking a year off. You shook the image out of your head. “No,” you said. “It isn’t a good time. My reputation isn’t great right now, so I need to get back out there and show people that I can do the work. I need to fix it.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “that sounds like agent speak.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “he’s right.”

“Remember, though,” she said, slowly, “that you’re a person, too. Not just a career.”

You just looked at her, blankly. Your career had been the most important thing about you since you were nine years old. You didn’t know how to separate the two. Luckily, that was when the server returned with your food, and Marnie graciously took it as a sign to take over the conversation for the rest of your meal. She talked about the movie she’d just finished, how her kids were doing, and the large garden she was planting at home. It was nice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a meal out with a friend like this.

Still, you left the restaurant feeling raw and restless. You weren’t sure what to do with that conversation, the hard parts of it. The way she looked at you like she actually saw you. There was an itch in you now that just made you want to run.

Instead, as soon as you got home, you poured yourself a glass of sangria from the pitcher your housekeeper kept in your fridge and took the latest script Wilford had sent you onto your deck. You could feel Curtis watching you as you moved through the glass doors. That was his job, you told yourself. It was just his job.

The script fucking sucked. It was awful. The opposite of what you wanted to do. But you knew what Wilford would say. Beggars can’t be choosers. This was your fault. You were the one who’d destroyed your reputation. You had to be the one to fix it. And if making shit like this would fix it, then that’s what you had to do. Too many people relied on you for you not to do whatever you could, take whatever paychecks you could get. You hated it. You hated it so much. But you would do it.

You picked up your phone. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was well into the evening now. There was a text from Michelle an hour ago, letting you know she’d left. And a few minutes ago, one from Nikki, a girl you partied with sometimes, that just said ‘Fuck them both!’

What the hell did that mean? Panic began to crawl up your throat and your hands started to shake as you typed your name into Google and clicked on News. Your stomach dropped.  Johnny Storm, that snowboarder you’d barely dated over a year ago, apparently had a podcast now. And the latest episode, posted that day, featured Colin Shea as its guest. Shit. Fuck. You couldn’t even look at what they’d said. There was no point. It was all just the same old bullshit.

You felt tears start to prick at your eyes. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you the fuck alone? You weren’t even that interesting. How could they possibly have anything to talk about?

Fuck that, you thought, as you stormed back into your house. You distantly registered Curtis calling after you, but you didn’t pay any attention. You were too focused. You headed straight up to your bedroom. They wanted something to talk about? You’d fucking give it to them! You charged into your closet and grabbed the sluttiest, shiniest dress you had. Fuck yeah. You could do this. You would be exactly who they wanted you to be. If they wanted a show so fucking badly, you’d give them one.

You ran back downstairs, looking for a particular pair of earrings that a costar had given you as a wrap gift a couple of years ago – huge dangly ones that said Fuck on one ear and You on the other. There was nothing subtle about what you were going for tonight. 

You’d have to think of someone to call, too. Someone suitable for the kind of scene you wanted to make, the kind of big mistake you wanted to fall into. You were so fucking tired of holding it all together. You were done. Your mind immediately landed on Lucas Lee, your costar in that dumb action movie last year. He was awful but so hot. Nothing but trouble and always up for whatever. Perfect.

As you entered your living room, your eyes landed on one of your jewelry boxes on the coffee table. There they were! As you picked up the box, you realized Curtis was sitting by himself on the couch. You saw him take in your short, sparkly dress and grimace. You weren’t in the mood to analyze it. “I’m going out,” you announced. “Have Jensen get the car ready.” 

You were already moving through, headed back upstairs when you heard Curtis rasp, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You turned on a dime. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he said slowly, so calmly you wanted to break something, “that going out right now, in the sort of mood you’re clearly in, would be a very bad idea.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when,” you asked, your voice quiet with seething anger, “is it your job to tell me what to do?”

He shook his head and you didn’t know how to react to how sad he looked. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay home tonight. For your own safety, which very much is my job.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t understand him. He told you you weren’t friends. He was the one who said he was just your bodyguard. So what the hell was he doing now? 

In the moment you stood frozen, just staring at him, he took a cautious step forward. “Did something happen?” he asked barely above a whisper.

You shook your head furiously. You felt like you could barely form words. You were so angry and lost, and scared, and sad, and confused. You were feeling more than you thought your body could contain. And you knew, you knew, the only way to get these feelings out would be to go out and get as wild as you could. And here Curtis was, not letting you. You were afraid you were going to explode. “That’s fine,” you finally got out, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to come with me. Jake neither. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” You took a step towards the opening of the room. “Go home Jake!” you shouted through the house. “I won’t need you tonight!”

Curtis sighed your name. “I’m not going to let you go out by yourself,” he said firmly.

You threw your hands in the air. “Then make up your goddamn mind!” 

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking confused and Curtis turned to him. You took the opportunity to get back to the safety of your room, leaving your security detail to figure their shit out. Once back in your room, you dug through the jewelry box until you found the earrings you were looking for. You heard your back door open and close. Good. Jake, at least, was gone. You knew Curtis would be harder, but you were fucking determined. 

Just as you were opening Uber on your phone, Curtis appeared in your doorway. “What,” you growled.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?!” He said, not quite a yell, but not not that either, as he barged into your room. All of his practiced calm from downstairs was completely gone. “Something bad is going to happen if you go out tonight! It is, I know it is. And I know you can feel it too!”

“Why do you care?!” You shouted at him. “No one else does! Why do you care so much?!”

“You know why!” he shouted back, and took another step toward you, but then suddenly stopped. Much, much quieter, much softer, and with eyes so pleading, he said “You must know.”

You didn’t. You really don’t think you knew until that moment, when the realization slammed into you. Every look, every sigh, all of the moments of him that hadn’t made sense. You took a step back. “What?” you breathed, barely realizing that you were shaking.

He took a step forward to follow you, then stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head at him. “No,” you said. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?!” he asked, incredulous and upset again.

“No!” you shouted, but it was so much weaker now. “I just– Why would– I’m such a fucking mess!” You were starting to cry, the adrenaline of the last half-hour finally leaking out of you, replaced by that same bone-deep exhaustion that you’d had for too long. “I barely have a high school education. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. No one wants to work with me. I am barely keeping it together and everyone knows it. I’m a trainwreck! Why would you–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that you knew he meant. “Why would you have feelings for someone like that?”

 The sadness was back in his face. You looked away, unable to bear it. In your periphery, you saw him take a cautious step forward, then pause. When you made no move to run, he eliminated the distance between you, standing directly in front of you. He slowly, gently, carefully brought one hand up to touch your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know all that and I still love you. Because I also know that somehow, despite everything, you are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. You are so kind. And thoughtful. You let everyone see your soft spots, even when all they do is hurt you. You have every reason to be awful or bitter or mean or any of a thousand things. But you aren’t. It’s all of it, it’s all of those things and the ones you said too. All of it together, that’s why I love you. I love you because you’re you.”

You wanted to sob. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to you before. Not anyone in your family, or a single one of your exes. No one had ever cared enough to say any of that. Except for Curtis. He’d always cared, hadn’t he? Since that first day he’d showed up, when you’d been so scared about the possibility of a stalker, he’d taken such care with you. He was the most caring, thoughtful, beautiful person you knew. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.  You could see his worry, but also the deep conviction with which he’d just said all that to you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore. You surged forward and you kissed him. 

He made a noise of surprise—you didn’t know how he could possibly be surprised after all that—but after just a moment he was kissing you back, bringing both hands up to cradle your head. You were getting your tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was soft and gentle and passionate. You needed more. You needed all of him.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss. You did what you could to brush the tears off your face. You grabbed the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head, then tossed it on the floor. You stood in front of him in the lingerie you’d picked out to fuck Lucas Lee of all people and couldn’t understand how you’d ever been able to think about anyone but Curtis. But you did know how when you stopped to think about it. You’d never been able to fathom that you might deserve this man. That he might actually want you.

He stared at you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re–” you braced yourself for what might come next. So hot or fucking sexy. You’d even gotten beautiful once or twice. He only took a second before he finished his sentence “–incredible,” with such awe on his face that you actually felt your knees go weak. You had to look away. He was too much.

He took your face in his hands again and placed a soft, short kiss on your lips. “But would it be ok if we slowed down?” he asked.

You couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Why?” 

“This is real for me,” he said. “And if we do this, I want it to be real for you too. I want you to be sure. And for now,” he stroked one thumb over your cheekbone, “right now I just want to hold you. Is that alright? If I just hold you tonight?”  

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Sex had always been the best, most important part of any of your relationships. It’d been the biggest thing that any of your previous partners had wanted from you. You weren’t sure you knew how to do it any other way. But he was holding you so gently, looking at you so softly, all you could do was nod. 

He kissed you once more. Then stepped back and started to take off his clothes. You made your way to your bed and got in, watching him as he shed his clothes. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Nothing on any movie set you’d ever been on, any party you’d ever been to could compare to him. 

Once he was down to just his boxers, he crawled in next to you and pulled you close. Your lips touched his shoulder as you asked, barely audible, “You really love me?”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

Taglist is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @before-we-get-started @veltana @andydrysdalerogers @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whosana-maria @dancer3205 @ijustneedpopcorn @mrsevans90 @pekusofixus @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @jamneuromain @kmc1989 @geminiflanagansblog @stcrrjoon @blogbog710 @blackhawkfanatic

#curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett #bodyguard!curtis everett x actress!reader #bodyguard!curtis everett #snowpiercer #fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #reader insert #bodyguard au #i know i should know better #kris wrote something

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: a fun (long) little something! @making-it-big requested wedding night/honeymoon and i’m giving you guys both! also writing smut is hard (lol) sometimes and i lost track of limbs at a certain point, so like, just go with it. i actually went to greece this past summer so some of the trip details are pulled from my own vacation! 🥰 let me know if you guys want a separate post of the pics that sort of correspond with this fic, including one of the hotels!

word count: 9.1k (!!!!!)

tw: smut smut smut with dirty talking drei and our standard google-translated russian disclaimer 😂

summary: a wedding in raleigh followed by a honeymoon in greece, island hopping with andrei

Everything after the priest declared you husband and wife and Andrei dipped you back in a dramatic kiss is a little bit of a blur.

You’re announced as Mr. and Mrs. Svechnikov at the reception and have your first dance to Madonna’s Crazy for You, which is mildly embarrassing but it’s the song that was playing when you kissed for the first time, so it’s kind of your song. Andrei dances with Elena and you dance with your dad, wiping your tears on the tissue you keep wadded up in your fist.

Dinner is served and the table of hockey players clink their knives against their water glasses every twenty minutes so Andrei will kiss you. He obliges happily every time, cradling your face and kissing you sweetly. You grin against his mouth, the cacophony of cheers from your wedding guests the best soundtracks.

After you cut the cake - vanilla with white chocolate raspberry filling and a spray of flowers that match your bouquet falling down the sides of the tiers - the DJ kicks into high gear and everyone is crowding the dance floor. Andrei’s hands are on your waist while you dance, holding you close, your ass against his groin. You laugh, barely caring that there’s so many of your relatives watching. You can barely feel your feet and your face hurts from smiling.

The first reception carries on until one and by then all the older guests and both sets of parents have gone to bed.

You and Andrei thought ahead and rented out the attached and enclosed patio space for another few hours and while the music is playing, you both rush up to the honeymoon suite, giggling and holding hands.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful?” Andrei asks, kissing a trail down the back of your neck while he unzips your dress.

“Yes, but you can say it again,” you laugh, letting the dress fall to the floor and stepping out of it.

Andrei turns you in his arms and kisses you deeply, his hands warm and broad on your skin. You clutch at the front of his shirt, holding on for dear life. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing you softer.

His hands slide down over your ass, squeezing, and you wriggle in his grip, pressing against his front. “As much as I can’t wait to have wedding night sex,” you grin, twisting your fingers in the untied fabric of his bow tie, “I want to change and get back to our friends!”

Andrei’s hands slip between your thighs and you squirm, his fingers thick and pressing against the seam between your legs. “They won’t miss us,” he murmurs, teasing you, stroking his fingers gently against the fabric of your underwear.

“Oh,” you gasp, knees turning to putty under his touch, “we only get one wedding reception after-party.”

He presses a kiss, chaste considering where his fingers are, to your temple and hums against your skin. “I guess. Just means you’ll be even more ready for me,” his voice is low, husky, and you’re honestly tempted to say fuck the after party and fuck him against the wall.

You shiver and dance away from him, the hot imprints of his fingers still burning your skin. “I’m always ready for you,” you admit shakily, taking your after-party dress off its hanger and slipping into it. The feathers on the miniskirt’s hem tickle at your bare thighs and you do a little twirl to get the skirt flaring out. You fell in love with the dress after seeing it in a little boutique after your bridal shower and thought about wearing it for the rehearsal dinner, but the feathers and thin straps felt more appropriate for the after-party.

Andrei looks over from where he’s hanging up your ceremony dress - you have him trained so well with all this wedding stuff - and his jaw drops. “Solnyshka,” he breathes, “you have to let me take that dress off of you and fuck you. Please.”

“Later, Mr. Svechnikov,” you croon, trailing your fingers over the edge of his jaw. It’s been so many hours since he last shaved, his jaw is lightly stubbled again. Andrei leans into your touch, growling when you giggle and skip to the door. He hurries after you, snagging your hand and lacing your fingers together.

You’re immediately handed a shot when you get back to the party and toss it back, grimacing a little. Andrei accepts a glass from Geno and you’re almost positive it’s full of vodka, but he doesn’t react at all when he takes a drink. The music is loud and you’re immediately dancing, shimmying and jumping to the old-school classics. Andrei, Geno, Brady, and Pyotr jump and shout lyrics at each other, but Andrei’s hands never leave your body. Even when he’s not looking at you, his hand is in yours or touching your back.

Eventually, he loses the bow tie and his shirt gets unbuttoned. Geno has his tie around his head and all the groomsmen are in various states of disheveled. You gravitate to Andrei, looping your arms around his neck and swaying against him, lazily grinding on him. He’s hard behind his tuxedo pants, kissing softly behind your ear. The music doesn’t match the tempo of your dance and all of your friends are jumping and dancing around you. But it’s dark outside the venue and right now, the only thing you’re aware of is Andrei’s fingers tangling in the bun that’s loosening at the nape of your neck and the feeling of his body against yours.

“Party’s winding down, zhena,” Andrei whispers in your ear, warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. And that's a new thing, how he's been calling you wife all night. In Russian or in English, he doesn't care. He's marking you as his.

The loud music and flowing alcohol is telling a different story, but you blink up at Andrei. His hair is mussed, flipped over his forehead, and his face is flushed from dancing and drinking. His lips curl up in a soft smile and you lean up on tiptoes to press your lips to his.

“I don’t think they’ll miss us, muzh,” you murmur against his lips, feeling his smirk when he realizes you called him ‘husband’ in Russian. You'd learned the pronunciation specifically for today. His hands tighten in your hair, angling your head back a little so he can kiss you again, deeper this time.

Your body melts against Andrei’s, warmth rushing through your veins. “Take me to bed, Mr. Svechnikov,” you whisper, giggling. He wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you off your feet. Holding you against his side, Andrei practically runs from the room. You cling to his neck, laughing the entire time.

In the elevator back up to the suite, Andrei pins you against the wall, resting one hand next to your head and sliding the other up and under your skirt. You lean into his touch, kissing him hungrily. His fingers play at the edges of your panties, disappearing beneath the fabric to stroke you gently. The doors slide open before he can really do anything and you’re back in his arms, being carried into the honeymoon suite.

Andrei lays you out on the bed and you kick one foot up. He grabs your ankle with fast reflexes and grins at you. “Yes?”

“I can’t do the buckles from up here,” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him. Andrei laughs, traced his index finger over the arch of your foot and over the top. He taps at the buckle.

“What’s the magic word, zhena?”

“Pozhaluysta, muzh,” you coo, butchering the pronunciation and slurring the words together a little. Even still, Andrei’s grip tightens around your ankle and the front of his pants grow tighter.

He makes quick work of the little buckle, letting your heel fall to the ground. The bow on the toe of the Jimmy Choos is likely to get crumpled, but Andrei kisses your ankle bone and your brain short circuits a bit. He sets your ankle on his shoulder and grabs for your other foot, undoing that buckle equally as quick. Before you know it, both your ankles are draped over Andrei’s shoulders and his hands are roaming up your thighs. You whine his name and he pinches the inside of your thigh gently.

“I want to enjoy this,” he murmurs, hand grasping at the lace of your panties and tugging. You frown at the sound of the fabric ripping, but immediately gasp and arch your back when Andrei buries two fingers in you without warning.

“Drei!” You moan, clenching around his fingers, wiggling at the sensation. Your legs try to snap together, trapping Andrei’s head between your knees.

“Zhena,” he whispers, “moya zhena, I’m going to make you come until the sun comes up.”

You think you make orgasm from his words alone, but then he crooks his fingers and you shout, kicking one heel against his shoulder and twisting the sheet in your fists. He grins, self-satisfied, and leans down to kiss you, the change of angle driving his fingers even deeper. You push at his shirt with your heels, getting it off one arm and leaving it to drape over the mattress, still on the other arm.

“Drei, please, I need,” you babble, sucking in a breath when the pad of his thumb finds your clit and strokes it roughly. “Shit, more, please.”

He adds a third finger and you cry out his name, grinding against his hand, heat coiling and building low in your stomach. His other hand grips at your thigh, massaging the muscle while he encourages you. “Come on, solnyshka, come for your husband, like a good little wife.”

“Andreiiii,” you chant his name, breathless, arching your back and clenching around his fingers. He crooks his fingers and presses down hard on your clit and you’re over the edge, starbursts dancing behind your eyes. He’s talking you through your orgasm, stroking your thigh with one hand, murmuring about what a good girl you are. You gasp and slump back against the mattress, a few feathers drifting around your head from where they’ve basically been fucked off your dress. “Christ,” you mumble, dazed.

Andrei slowly withdraws his fingers, the loss of them making you feel empty. He shakes his shirt off his arm and it flutters to the floor while Andrei sticks his fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean while holding eye contact with you.

You groan, “are you trying to make me come without even touching me?” You wiggle against the sheets, feeling hot and sweaty. Your dress bunches up at your upper thighs and Andrei’s gaze dips down.

“My love,” he grins, kneeling on the bed with one knee so the mattress dips with his weight, “you’ll know when I’m trying to make you come.”

He undoes the buckle of his belt, the clinking of metal on metal when his wedding band slips against the buckle making your gaze trail down. The fly of his tuxedo pants is open and you can see the bulge of his erection against his black boxer-briefs. You sit up a little, angling to lean forward and reach for him, but Andrei shakes his head.

“No, no,” he murmurs, wrapping a hand around your wrist. “What kind of husband would I be,” he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses your palm, “if I didn’t take care of my wife?”

His voice, deep and warm, fills you with desire and you sigh, pressing your thighs together, already a mess for him. “Andrei, don’t tease,” you whine, wiggling your fingers at him. “I just want to feel you. I want you in me.”

Leaning down and forcing you to lie back again, Andrei braces his hand next to your head and kisses you sweetly. “You will,” he promises, smoothing his other hand over your cheek. “I’m going to make love to my wife,” he murmurs, kissing you again. His hand moves around your back and he plays with the zipper of your dress. You get the hint and scoot into a sitting position so he can work the zipper with one hand and slip the dress off your body, leaving you bare except for your strapless bra. Andrei kisses the swell of each breast and flicks at the clasp, discarding the bra to the floor. You kick a little at the dress and it slips to the floor where it’s joined quickly by Andrei’s pants, leaving you staring at his erection straining behind the black cotton.

“Lie back,” he commands and you do, already slightly breathless. He kneels on the bed again, your legs falling open to make room for him to get in between your thighs. “So beautiful,” he mumbles, absently, almost to himself, while he pulls himself out of his boxer-briefs, stroking his already hard length into a steel rod. His cock juts put in front of him and your mouth waters at the sight. You can’t believe that this gorgeous man is yours, forever.

“Andrei,” you pout, hand sliding between your legs to alleviate some of the growing pressure. He doesn’t make a move to stop you and instead his gaze is laser focused on where your fingers are circling your clit. You gasp. “Please, I need more, I need you,” you whisper, hooking an ankle around his thigh and tugging. You can’t move him on your own, so when he shifts forward, you know he’s going to give you what you want.

He lowers his body over yours, nestled in between your legs, his weight braced on one hand. You grin up at him, tracing his bicep with your free hand and pushing at his boxer-briefs with the other. Your fingers brush his cock and he shivers, hips jolting. “Make love to me, Andrei,” you murmur, lifting your head to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip in between your teeth. He groans into your mouth and your guide him to your entrance, the head of his cock bumping against your clit and sending delicious shocks down to your toes.

Still kissing you, Andrei rolls his hips and enters you. You gasp into his mouth and meet his hips with yours. He sets a slow, leisurely pace, thrusting gently and keeping control. Your legs hook around his waist, deepening the angle. His hips roll and you meet him thrust for thrust.

“Drei,” you gasp his name, raking your nails down his back. “More, please.”

He picks up the pace, but just barely, the tension building low in your stomach. Your hands roam his body, slick with sweat, and tangle in his hair.

He kisses you again and it’s cheesy, because you’ve kissed Andrei hundreds, thousands, hundred thousands of times, but this is different. These kisses are so much more. They’re soft and hungry and lazy and so full of love.

Andrei thrusts again, dipping his hand between your bodies because he knows exactly how to get you to come and your thighs are trembling with the building tension. “Come on, little wife,” he murmurs hoarsely, biting gently at the swell of your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple. “Show me how beautiful you are when you come.”

You cry his name, clenching around him and then you’re both coming, clutching each other’s bodies. Your nails dig into his arms and Andrei’s face is buried in your neck. He’s breathing heavily, filling you and pumping his hips and it’s overwhelming, just how much you love him. You melt into the mattress, boneless, and encourage Andrei through his orgasm, stroking his neck and murmuring softly to him. He exhaled roughly and drops down from shaky arms, half of his body covering yours.

“I think I like married sex,” you huff a laugh, twisting a piece of Andrei’s hair between your fingers. His thigh is wedged in between yours and you resist the urge to rub your still sensitive clit against the hard, corded muscle.

He kisses your shoulder. “Me too,” he chuckles. His fingers trace a lazy pattern over your side, dragging from your hip bone up to the side of your breast and back down. You yawn, the repetitive motion soothing you and dragging your eyelids shut. You have no idea what time it is, but it has to be late, or early. The blackout curtains are drawn, but you wouldn’t be surprised if the sun is starting to come up.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Andrei says, already rolling off of you. “Let me clean you up.”

He gets out of bed and pads naked to the bathroom. You take the opportunity to roll on your side and ogle his firm, round ass. His entire form is lean muscle and strong, solid thighs. You swipe a hand between your legs and press at your clit, unfairly aroused and overstimulated by his body. Andrei’s back with a damp washcloth before you can really do anything about it, but he catches you and smirks, eyes flashing. He holds the cloth up and crooks a finger at you. “Come here,” he says, even as he’s climbing back into bed and dragging your legs over his lap.

Slowly, torturously, he runs the cloth between your legs and you squirm. The rough fabric is too much for your sensitive nerves and Andrei knows it. He moves even slower and only smiles when you grind your hips over his hand. “Going for the hat trick?” He laughs, everything brought back to hockey with him.

You frown. “It’s not fair that you’re so damn attractive,” you’re breathless, working yourself over the cloth and his hand. He just laughs again, the bastard, and helps you along until you’re coming for the third time, sweaty and completely limp in his arms. Andrei gathers you against his chest and you press your hot, sweaty cheek against his heart.

“I have to get up and pee,” you mumble, “but I don’t think I can walk.”

He kisses the top of your head and carries you into the bathroom, letting you do your business and get cleaned up while he goes back to sit on the edge of the bed. He’s yawning when you come back, still naked, but face clean of the stray makeup smudges. Your hair is tangled and still half in its bun, so you’ve left it to be tomorrow’s problem. Andrei opens his arms and you step in between his legs, resting your forearms on his shoulders. He leans forward and rests his forehead in the valley between your breasts, breathing softly. Another yawn works it’s way through your body and you shift, pushing Andrei back on the bed and climbing up with him. “I really need to sleep,” you sigh, your eyelids getting heavy again.

Andrei nods, looking tired himself. You both climb under the covers on your usual sides of the bed - Andrei closer to the door and you closer to the window - and lie down facing each other. You trace Andrei’s features with your index finger, running over his jaw line, forehead, and the line of his nose. His eyes flutter shut at your touch and his hand reaches for you, landing on your hip and pulling you close. You tuck your head under his chin, trailing your fingers over the column of his neck and feeling the stubble that’s there. “I love you, solnyshka,” he says quietly, his chest vibrating under your body.

“I love you,” you sigh, curling up close to him and falling asleep within minutes.

You wake up late the next morning, sunlight streaming brightly around the cracks of the curtains. Stretching out your entire body, you realize Andrei’s still asleep too. He must be exhausted since usually he’s up well before you. He’s flat on his back, arm thrown over his face, and sheet tented over his lap. Andrei’s mouth is a little open and he’s snoring softly - looking adorable while he’s at it. You reach for your phone, planning on taking a picture - the first picture of your husband (!) that you’ll take on your own phone - but when the screen lights up, you catch sight of the time and wince. It’s nearly noon, which would be late in the day normally, but your parents planned a day-after-the-wedding lunch for the guests staying at the hotel, scheduled to start at one. You both need showers and to change, so you drop your phone in the covers and smooth a hand over Andrei’s stomach, gliding it up over his pecs and curling it around the back of his neck before cupping his cheek, scratching your nails into his stubble.

“Drei, baby, time to get up,” you murmur, leaning down and pressing kisses to his chest and shoulder. “We have lunch in an hour.”

He grumbles - the only time he’s not a bouncing ball of energy and positivity is the few minutes right before he’s fully awake - and turns his head so he can press his cheek fully into your palm. “No,” he mumbles into your skin. “Nyet, do obeda. Ostavat'sya v posteli.”

He does that too, revert to Russian in his sleep. You brush your nose against his cheek. “I don’t know what that means beyond ‘nyet’ so whatever you said isn’t going to stop me,” you laugh a little.

Andrei cracks one eye open and squints at you. His lips curl up in a lazy smile and his hand lands on your waist. “I said,” he sighs, “no to lunch. Let’s stay in bed.”

You let him pull you against his side even as you’re shaking your head, which is a mistake because that seems to trigger your hangover. You press your lips together and wait for a minute before continuing, “we have two and a half weeks in Greece to relax and stay in bed, let’s go see everyone and eat because I’m starving.”

“I’ll order room service,” Andrei jokes, waking up and sitting up to kiss you.

“I want to see how hungover everyone is,” you giggle. “And you know what they say, happy wife, happy life.”

He swats at your ass a little when you roll away from him, laughing, and climb out of bed. You wiggle your ass in his direction playfully, “your wife wants you to join her in the shower, aren’t you going to make me happy?”

“That I can do,” Andrei promises, getting out of bed and wrapping his arms around your waist to carry you into the shower.

Of course, the shower takes twice as long as it should and by the time you get dressed - casually because once you opened the blinds, the afternoon North Carolina sunlight had nearly blinded you and caused a headache to form right between your eyes and nausea to roll your stomach - you’re running late to your own celebratory lunch. Andrei’s fingers play with the tie straps on your sundress as you head downstairs and you lean against him heavily. “I don’t understand how you don’t get hungover,” you mumble. “It’s unconscionable.”

He chuckles, chest vibrating against your back. “I’m bigger and Russian,” he shrugs, all the explanation you’re going to get. Truthfully, you just think he didn’t have as much to drink as you did. Even during the off-season, Andrei isn’t that big of a partier.

Once you get down to the hotel’s dining space, it’s all you can do not to laugh. The room is split into two camps - the older relatives who checked out by the end of the main reception and the friends and younger relatives that had partied with you at the after-party. The adults look tired, but happy, and your friends look like death warmed up.

Brady’s cradling his head in his hands while Gracia nudges toast in front of him. Pyotr has his head pillowed on his arms on the table. Geno has his sunglasses on inside and you spot Elena pointing him out to your mom and laughing, shaking her head at him. Jordan’s nursing a mug of coffee and you spot your best friends taking a carafe of coffee directly from the waiter and setting it on the table in front of them.

“Rough night?” You giggle, pressing your fingers to your temple at the spike of pain. The girls look up at you with bloodshot eyes.

Tia groans, “who challenges Russian hockey players to a drinking contest?”

“A moron, that’s who,” Kate murmurs, her voice nearly gone from scream-singing.

“Who’d you challenge?” Andrei asks, munching on a piece of bacon. You look at his food with a jealous eye and he holds out the half-eaten strip for you. You take a bite gratefully and chew while you wait for Tia’s answer.

She wrinkles her nose. “Who didn’t I challenge is the question, but I finally tapped out against Pyotr and Geno.”

“It was impressive,” Geno mumbles, holding his hand up for Tia to slap in a high-five.

“Party of the year, Svechy,” Brady grins. “But fuck, I’m gonna feel this hangover for a week.”

Andrei smirks at his friend and says, “good thing it’s off-season.”

Your mom calls you both over and you wind your way amongst the tables, leaving your hungover friends to recover. Andrei’s hand is warm against your lower back as you head across the room, his fingers splayed out.

“Honey,” your mom pats your hip when you reach her side, “I think you could use a little make-up, right here.” She waves her hand in the general area of her neck and you flush, knowing she means the hickeys Andrei sucked into your skin the night before.

“I, um, I’ll take that into consideration,” you stammer, even as Andrei sniggers behind your back. You swing your leg back, kicking your heel into his shin, and he just wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

Shooting the parents a wide and innocent, but sincere, smile, he says, “thank you, all of you, for helping us have the best wedding yesterday. We appreciate it very much.”

Your mother’s attention is now on her new son-in-law and not the marks on your neck. She smiles at him, “it was more than our pleasure. You two deserve it.”

“And especially the vacation,” Elena chimes in. “It’s well-earned.”

It definitely is. Andrei’s fresh off a Stanley Cup victory and you’re fresh off the stress of planning a wedding around the playoffs. You can’t wait to soak up the Mediterranean sun and have sex with your husband in between delicious meals. Your flight leaves the next afternoon and you’re more than ready to get going.

The parents release you back to your friends and lunch becomes a fun, lazy affair, a continuation of the after-party, where it’s revealed that Kate and Pyotr had hooked up in the hotel’s garden and half the team had lost money on that bet.

Eventually, you’re gently kicked out of the dining hall and your parents come up to the honeymoon suite to take both of your dresses to be cleaned and preserved for you while you’re in Greece. Elena and Igor take Andrei’s tux and put it in their car along with the three other tuxes belonging to your dad, Igor, and Geno. They’ve kindly volunteered to return them so it’s one less thing for Andrei to worry about when you get back.

Geno unloads Andrei’s honeymoon suitcase from his car, setting it next to yours in the back corner of the suite where it’s been since the morning of the wedding. You’re getting another night in the hotel before you leave for Greece, so all the luggage had to be brought with you. Not that it matters really, you’ve been packed for a week, beyond excited for the trip, and you’d packed most of Andrei’s stuff too. “What do you have in here?” Geno asks, teasing. “All of your hair products?”

Andrei raises an eyebrow at his brother and deadpans, “sex toys.”

You giggle while Geno processes for a few silent seconds before cracking into his trademark missing-toothed grin. He laughs loudly and cups Andrei’s face in his hands, squeezing his little brother’s cheek’s together. “You’re a little shit,” he shakes his head affectionately, “you know that?”

“Learned from the best,” Andrei mumbles, trying to smile while Geno is squishing his face.

The rest of the day and the next morning passes in a blur of last minute preparation, couples massages, and sex on every surface of the honeymoon suite. You put the shower bench to particularly good use.

Finally, after a quick lunch, you’re on the way to the airport, vibrating with excitement in the back seat. “I can’t believe we’re going to be completely and totally off the grid,” you sigh, closing your eyes and thinking about it. You’d decided against an international plan and are keeping your phones on airplane mode the entire trip, save for a few minutes at the end of the day when you’ll connect to hotel WiFi to check in with your parents. “It’s going to be so nice.”

“I’m just looking forward to spending time with you,” Andrei says sweetly, kissing your cheek.

Your flight ends up delayed for two hours, meaning more time to people-watch in the airport. Andrei gets bored sitting around and does laps, reporting back that he found no less than four Auntie Anne’s pretzel shops. “And you didn’t bring me cinnamon sugar pretzel nuggets?” You shake your head. “Bad start to the marriage.”

He does another lap and brings you the nuggets along with a lemonade, stealing a few pretzels from the cup before he hands them over.

Once you’re on the plane - first class(!) - Andrei takes both of your carry-ons and stows them away, letting you have the first shift in the window seat. You’ve learned over the past few years of dating that you both love the window seat, but Andrei would rather sit there during touchdown and you like it during takeoff, which makes it easy to switch off.

After takeoff, you get comfortable in your seat, kicking off your sneakers and folding your legs up on the seat. Andrei stretches out his legs and crosses them at the ankle, grinning when he sees you aiming your phone at him for a picture and throwing up a thumbs-up. Picture taking and documenting memories in scrapbooks is one of your love languages and Andrei learned early on how to be an Instagram husband, to pose for shots, and to always be aware that you’re taking candids.

“Make sure you save your boarding pass,” you say. “It’s going in the honeymoon scrapbook.”

He holds the slip of paper up in between his index and middle fingers, smirking, “whatever you say, wife.”

“Excellent,” you lean over the armrest and kiss him softly.

The flight attendant comes by with drinks and catches you kissing Andrei. “Aren’t you two adorable?” She comments, handing Andrei a water and you a ginger ale (it just tastes different on a plane).

You can’t help yourself and burst out, “we’re on our way to Greece for our honeymoon!”

“Well!” She beams, clapping her hands. “That’s so exciting! I wish you both a long and happy marriage.”

You thank her, Andrei chiming in at the same time.

The flight is uneventful. Andrei falls asleep almost immediately, since he’s so used to plane travel, and you know to wake him up for snacks and meal service. You’ve never been able to sleep on a plane, too excited and eager to enjoy the experience, so you find a movie to watch. Over the seven hours, you watch Top Gun and cry when Goose dies, Ghostbusters: Afterlife and cry when Harold Ramis’s character appears as a ghost or vision or whatever at the end, and The Parent Trap. You don’t cry during that one, but that’s mostly because you’ve seen it so many times and you’re desensitised.

Andrei stirs a little, waking up for dinner and to tease you about crying over old movies. You wrinkle your nose at him and he holds your hand when he falls back asleep.

You booked the trip through a Greek travel company, which means literally everything was taken care of including all transfers to and from the airport and the different hotels and islands, so all you have to do when you land, is gather your luggage and find the man holding up the SVECHNIKOV placard. Andrei drags the one large checked suitcase and his carry-on behind him, his backpack secure on his back. You’re left with your rolling carry-on and the old Jansport you’re using as a personal item for travel purposes.

“Mr and Mrs Svechnikov?” The man smiles at them. “I am James, I will drive you to the hotel.” He takes the suitcase from you and tries to take one from Andrei, but your husband is firm that he’ll pull his own suitcase. You traipse along behind both men, still taking in the sights and sounds of the Athens airport.

The heat hits you the second you step foot outside, a warm wall that has you sweating witching a few feet. The sun is bright and the air feels thick. You slide your sunglasses over your face and push up the sleeves of your travel sweatshirt, grinning like a fool at Andrei. He shares your smile, looking around at the mountainous surroundings.

It’s about a half-hour drive to the hotel and you find yourself dozing, leaning against Andrei’s arm, as you drive. The time difference and lack of sleep over the past few days are catching up to you. The warm of Andrei’s body next to yours isn’t helping. But after your little nap, you feel refreshed when you get to the hotel. So refreshed that you immediately drop the bags off and start exploring the neighborhood. Andrei holds your hand as you walk, taking in the vibrant surroundings and the smells of amazing food. You bounce on the balls of your feet every time you spot a stray cat and squeal when you stumble on the Acropolis.

“Oh my god, Drei!” You grin. “We’re actually here. Like we’re actually, really in Greece on our honeymoon.”

He laughs and kisses you. “I know, solnyshka. It feels like a dream.”

The entire trip is a dream. You get up early the next morning and hike up the slope of the Parthenon to see the Acropolis. It’s hot, but beautiful. You looks around in awe, overwhelmed by the history and architectural work. Andrei asks a couple if they’ll take a photo of the two of you and he pulls you into his arms, holding you against his side and smiling widely for the picture. You lean up to kiss his cheek for another photo.

By the time you start the walk back down, it’s even hotter and the crowds are getting out of control. Andrei is at your back, keeping a watch as you go down the marble steps. Once you get to the bottom, you get two frozen lemonades, plain for Andrei and strawberry for you, and lean against a nearby wall to suck them down and cool off.

“There’s so much history here,” you say, looking around. “It’s just so cool! I mean, to think that the Acropolis was built so many hundreds of years ago and it’s still standing.”

“Nerd,” he teases you affectionately.

After a few days in Athens, you’re shuffled off to the ferry via car service early in the morning. It’s still dark when you get in line to board and you’re wrapped in a sweatshirt while you lean on the big suitcase. Andrei’s hand is warm on your back and your legs tingle a little, still sore from the marathon sex you’ve been having. You sip at your coffee, enjoying just how strong the Greek coffee is. “We definitely need to bring some of this coffee back home,” you say, holding your cup up for Andrei to have a sip.

“A cup of this before a game and I’m flying,” he agrees.

“You could use that, old man,” you tease him, nudging his foot with yours and he smacks at your ass a little.

“Brat.”

You smirk at him. “Guess you’ll have to punish me, then.”

Andrei’s eyes darken in the dim light, but before he gets the chance to say anything, the line starts moving and there’s an announcement that boarding is happening. You shuffle along, Andrei’s hand reaching out to pinch your ass, making you yelp. When you look back at him, he just smiles innocently.

The ferry ride to Naxos from Athens isn’t very long, just about four hours, but it’s long enough for you both to get in quick naps once you find your seats. Andrei has his legs propped up on the suitcase, keeping it close, and your lips tilt up at the sight of him with his head back and his baseball cap over his face. You snap a picture.

Naxos is gorgeous, but your hotel is smack in the middle of nowhere and has an outdated 70s vibe that makes you think of murder motels. It’s an uncharitable thought because everyone is so nice and polite, especially when they find out you’re celebrating your honeymoon. The beach is a thirty minute walk in one direction and the town is more than an hour’s walk in the other. You manage to figure out the bus system and are on the beach, laying on side-by-side lounge chairs in under an hour. The water is too gorgeous to be real and it’s warm enough that you don’t have to tentatively step in and get used to it.

The days pass by in a blur of sun and sand, picnics packed for lunch, and in one memorable afternoon, a stumble on a nude beach.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, eyes going wide. “We have to turn around.”

Andrei’s laughing so hard he can’t speak, averting his eyes from looking directly at all the old people baring it all. You cover your eyes on the side like you’re wearing blinders and speed walk back in the direction of your chairs. “Solnyshka,” Andrei calls after you, still laughing, “it’s natural! What if I decided to strip down? Would you run away from me?”

“No!” You smother a horrified laugh. “But you’re my husband and your balls don’t hang down to your ankles. It’s not exactly a hardship to look at your naked body, Andrei!”

“Well that’s good to hear,” he deadpans. A smirk cracks his facade and he starts to giggle again. “You just looked so horrified.”

“They’re old! And wrinkled! And their skin is like leather - has no one heard of moisturiser?” You shake your head, planning on rubbing in another layer of sunscreen when you’re back at your chairs.

Dinner is usually a relaxed affair, sitting at some taverna by the water, plates of appetizers covering the table. You have a Greek salad with every meal, thoroughly enjoying the feta and fresh tomatoes. Naxos is known for their cheese, so you order a cheese platter one night and share approximately two pieces with Andrei, fighting each other with your forks. He distracts you, pointing over your shoulder and exclaiming that he sees dolphins, and when you look over to see nothing, he pulls the cheese plate to himself and protectively encircles his arms around it, laughing when you start tugging at his hands. There’s this amazingly bright beet dip - a perfect magenta pink and so addictive with the grilled pita bread.

“I could marry this dip,” you moan.

Andrei raises an eyebrow. “I could be okay with polygamy.”

After Naxos, you take the ferry to Paros - just an hour on the boat and you’re in a completely different location. It’s amazing how efficient the ferries are and how civilized the whole process is. You get to keep your luggage the whole time and since seats are assigned on your ticket, no one fights for a seat.

Paros is a gorgeous island. Similar in size to Naxos, but more built up. Your hotel is magical - a true five star - with palm trees by the pool and perfectly manicured grounds. There are hot pink flowers everywhere and you breathe in the fresh air, feeling like a different person.

“I love this place,” you sigh, stretching out on a lounger next to the pool. Andrei toasts you with his drink, something in a coconut that he’d never normally order at home.

“Top hotel so far,” he says, tucking one hand behind his head, making his bicep pop. He’s been running in the mornings, to counterbalance the food you’ve been eating. But he’s also been so relaxed, which is something you’re glad to see. The last few years have been a lot on him - his ACL injury that had led to a shortened season when he returned followed by the deep playoff run leading to the eventual Stanley Cup. He needed a minute to unwind.

He reaches out over the distance between your chairs and wiggles his fingers at you. You reach your own hand out and let him lace your fingers together. Unfairly, he’s tanner than you are, his skin turning a nice golden brown under the Greek sun. Andrei’s thumb traces over your knuckles.

Neither of you say anything, just enjoying the company and quiet.

The beach is a two minute walk from your hotel, so in the afternoons, you make your way over there with just your towels to swim in the sea. You’re actually addicted to the Mediterranean now and have no idea how you’re going to go back to swimming in the Atlantic. There’s some cliffs around the beach and Andrei eggs you on to climb them and jump off.

You’re a chicken when it comes to stuff like that, but with Andrei encouraging you, and screaming all the way down, you jump from a decently high cliff. The adrenaline rush is unparalleled and Andrei enthusiastically responds when you jump into his arms, kissing him hungrily. With the buoyancy from the salt water helping, Andrei carries you into a secluded cove, shadowed by the cliffs you had just jumped off of. He presses you against the rocks, scraping your back, and twists his fingers in the ties of your bikini bottoms.

His fingers edge under the fabric and you squirm, wanting him to touch you. “Come on, Drei,” you urge him. “Touch me, please.”

“Anyone could swim by, zhena,” he murmurs against your neck, licking at the drying salt.

“Not if,” you gasp, letting your head fall back as Andrei licks and bites your neck. “Not if you’re fast.”

He hums against your skin, still toying with the fabric of your bottoms. Your legs are wrapped around his waist and you can feel the hard heat of his cock pressing into you. You grind down against him and he bites your shoulder in a little warning. “You like this?” He asks, slipping his index finger under your bathing suit and letting the tip of it tease at your swollen folds. The cool water laps around you, keeping your temperature down. “You want people to see you, my love? You want them to see me give you my fingers, see how many of them you can take?”

“I…yes…Andrei, please,” you whine, heels kicking against his back while you clench around the tip of his finger. “I…more… pozhaluysta.”

It’s a dirty trick, using your limited Russian, because you know he finds nothing hotter. Andrei slips two fingers inside of you and crooks them, forcing a cry from your throat. You press one hand against your lips to muffle your noises as he fucks you with his fingers, adding a third after only a few seconds. “You wanted this, my love,” he rasps, “don’t be quiet.”

“Andrei,” you whine his name, toes curling. Your hand fists in his hair and he hisses a little when you tug. His fingers are thick and rough inside of you and it doesn’t take too much longer before you’re clenching around then and coming on his hand. “Fuck,” you mutter, going boneless in his arms.

“Good girl,” Andrei praises you, kisses your shoulder. “I think it’s time for a nap.”

Your eyelids flutter and he carries you through the water back to your towels. Your legs are jelly underneath you, but you wrap yourself in your towel, pressing against his body to feel his erection press into your lower stomach. “You know,” you murmur, “there’s a hammock on the patio of our room.”

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you. “We have a good time in hammocks,” he says slowly.

Agreeing, you continue, “and the bathtub in the room is very, very big. Probably big enough for, say a 6’2” Russian and his brand new wife.”

“We should test that out,” he says, seriously, nudging you through the sand and back to the road leading to your hotel.

Turns out the tub isn’t quite big enough for the both of you and more water splashes over the sides than stays in, but you giggle your way through a bath that’s more groping than anything. The olive oil soap is a nice amenity, getting you both extra slick and slippery - which does eventually result in you banging your knee against the side of the tub, but it’s worth it when Andrei kisses the spot, working his way up your inner thigh.

After the bath, you dry each other off and roll around on the bed, making out and touching each other, but not really doing much more. It’s been a long trip and you’d like to be able to walk at the end of it. You order loukoumades - Greek doughnuts soaked in honey syrup and dusted with cinnamon - from room service and curl up on Andrei’s lap out on the patio to enjoy the warm night and the sweet treat.

Andrei feeds you a doughnut and you purposefully suck his fingers into your mouth when you take a bite. He raises an eyebrow at you and you giggle. “You know,” you say quietly, enjoying the peaceful evening, “one day, I’d like to bring our kids back here. Be the annoying parents that talk about their honeymoon and show their kids all the amazing sights and restaurants.”

“That would be nice,” Andrei replies, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Rent a villa and let them run around in the sun. We should have them learn Greek too, that way someone can translate.”

“Can you imagine?” You grin, leaning back against his chest. “Little babies running around switching between English, Russian, and Greek? They’ll be the smartest kids is Raleigh.”

“And the cutest too, probably.” He nuzzles his nose against the side of your neck. “As long as they look like you.”

Warmth floods your stomach, thinking about a little gang of Svechnikov babies. In your imagination, they look like Andrei, his warm brown eyes and that dimple. You curl closer against him, daydreaming about that future.

Your last island is Santorini and you’re actually spending the least amount of time here, just four and a half days before you fly back to Athens for an overnight stay before leaving for home again. Santorini is gorgeous, but it’s definitely the most crowded of the islands and the most touristy. The blue domes against the white washed buildings are beautiful and the sunsets are as gorgeous as promised. But, after the slower paced Naxos and Paros, you find yourself getting a little cranky with the crowds of Santorini.

“I think you need an ice cream,” Andrei says, guiding you towards one of the many ice cream shops. “You’re getting that hangry look in your eyes.”

“These people just don’t move!” You grumble, following him. “It’s so crowded and if they all stop in the middle of the path…” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“She’ll have the kataifi,” Andrei says to the woman behind the counter, ignoring you, “and I’ll have the chocolate hazelnut.”

Your ice cream order’s been fairly standard over the past few days in Santorini - the kataifi ice cream is cinnamon-y and sweet and has chunks of the crunchy kataifi phyllo and nuts mixed it. You take the cone and happily tear into it, already feeling a little better as you cool off. Andrei takes his cone and pays, joining you against the wall of the shop. You’re busy keeping your ice cream from melting all over your hands and so when Andrei leans over and licks from the edge of your jaw to your earlobe, you’re so startled you nearly drop the cone entirely.

“Andrei!” You yelp, turning on him with wide eyes. “What the —“

He smirks at you and points at the opposite wall where a blue neon sign proclaims ‘it’s not going to lick itself.’ You blink at the sign briefly and then start giggling. “Just doing what the sign tells me,” he says innocently.

“I don’t think that’s what it means,” you murmur, flicking your gaze down to the front of his shorts.

“You can lick that later,” Andrei promises, grinning. He licks his ice cream scoop very deliberately, flattening his tongue around the scoop and swirling it. Your cheeks flush and you bump his hip with yours. He captures your hand and squeezes, tugging you out of the shop and back into the packed streets.

You wander a little more, popping into a jewelry store where you immediately spot two puppies playing and squat down to play with them. Andrei disappears for a minute, but you’re too distracted to realize he even left until he’s back, hovering over you, asking, “ready to get going?”

“Where’d you go?” You ask, giving the dogs one more pet each before standing up and taking Andrei’s hand.

He waves his other hand, “just around. Looking at souvenirs.”

“Okay,” you squint at him a little suspiciously, but don’t question it. “I think we’ve covered everyone actually, unless you want to get anything else for your parents.” The entirety of one of your carry-on suitcases is dedicated to souvenirs, and there’s spill over into the big suitcase, so you’re kind of hoping Andrei’s done with gifts.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good.” He smirks at you, “besides, we don’t have any more luggage room, right?”

“You do listen to me!” You laugh.

“Of course,” he kisses your knuckles. “Happy wife, happy life, right?”

Your last day on Satorini is spent on the volcanic black sand beach, relaxing and fooling around in the sea. “I’m going to miss this,” you say, toes skimming the sand while you float in the deep water.

“Let’s come back next year,” Andrei suggests, tipping his face back to the sun. “Another two weeks, there’s hundreds of islands we haven’t seen.”

You find yourself getting a little emotional. “Yeah,” you whisper, emotion clogging your throat, “that would be nice. But it would just be a vacation, it wouldn’t be another honeymoon.”

“No,” Andrei floats over to you and kisses you softly, “it won’t be. But it’ll be a good first anniversary trip.” He kisses your cheek. “Or maybe a trip to celebrate a pregnancy.”

“I love you,” you whisper, wiping at your face. “This has been the best trip, Drei. Honestly. I can’t wait to take a million more.” You loop your arms around his neck and his arms come around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You made it the best trip,” he says, dimple popping. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend two and a half weeks island hopping with or getting lost on the way to the beach with. I wouldn’t stop whenever someone else pointed out a stray cat or dog, just you, solnyshka.”

You snort a laugh, “you’re really angling for me to lick something, aren’t you?”

“Well,” Andrei smirks, the sun glinting off of his tanned skin and his brown eyes twinkling, “I wouldn’t say no to a little licking.”

There’s a lot of licking on your last night in Santorini and you both sleep in the next morning, enjoying a lazy start to the day and getting breakfast delivered to your room so you can pack and eat on your own time. The flight back to Athens is only an hour - you spent longer going through security and waiting to board than actually in the air.

You’re only in Athens overnight before you have to leave for the airport at 11, so you make the most of it, wandering around and getting a little bit lost before having a final dinner in a romantic little taverna. Andrei passes a little jewelry box across the table to you while you wait for dessert.

“What’s this?” You trace a finger over the box.

“A present,” he smiles.

“You already gave me a pretty good present,” you hold up your left hand, flashing your engagement ring and wedding band.

He laughs a little. “I know. But this one is to remember Greece.”

You look at him, shaking your head a bit, and pop open the box to find a cross that looks exactly like his, but smaller. “Andrei,” you look back up at him, “this is - it’s just like yours.”

You know Greek and Russian Orthodox are under the same umbrella and Andrei had poked his head into a few churches, doing the cross and dropping a few euros to light candles. You’d gotten married Russian Orthodox and even though it’s your own background, your family was far enough removed from being in Russia that religion wasn’t a major aspect of your life growing up.

“I saw it the other day,” he says. “And you don’t have to wear it, but I thought it might be nice. For us to have matching crosses.” He pauses. “For yours to be a memory of the honeymoon.”

You’re halfway to tears as you’re pulling the chain from the box and clasping it around your neck. “Why are you the most thoughtful, sentimental man in the world?” You lean over the table, the cross around your neck swaying and bumping your chest, and cup his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. “I love it and I love you.”

Andrei’s cheeks are a little pink when you sit back down. He shrugs one shoulder. “I wanted you to have a little piece of me too, when I’m traveling.”

“I’m not taking it off, Drei,” you murmur, tracing your fingers over the cool metal. His own chain is just barely visible under the collar of his shirt and you eye it. “We’re clearly going to have to come back and get more for the future Svechnikov babies.”

He laughs and catches your hand, kissing your palm. “Whatever you want, zhena. Whatever you want.”

A warm breeze carries through the street and it’s the perfect night to end your honeymoon.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov

[its-time-to-write]

ch. 7 - hustling for the good life

table of contents

if you made it to the end, thank you🥰

the way forward

Touring is absolutely insane. It’s not as crazy as some people’s like, say, Allie Gooding, but it’s still so. Much. Work. You don’t really dance, mostly hold your guitar while sitting in the middle of a stage while people twirl and leap behind you.

It’s a Blue Glass tour, technically speaking, but Mango is by far the highlight.

You’re in the city of its origin, with its muses sitting front and center. 

“I’ll let you go/Because it’s best for me/I slip out the back/And turn the key,” the audience sings.

i saw u on tiktok, Jamie texts that night. fukig mint the way the crowd sang all the words.

Claire was crying, you type back. And why can’t you ever spell “fuck” correctly??

cant all be smarty pants musicians, Jamie writes. Then, been blessed to be a dumb, sexy footballer.

Ok, I have to go to sleep. Flying to some small city tomorrow afternoon. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Called something like idk, Landon? Lodan?

He asks, u still staying at mine?

Yep. Can’t wait!!

FUCKIMG M I N T, Jamie responds.

—

You’ve been in Richmond for approximately four hours, just long enough to say hi to Keeley, eat dinner, and, you know, ditch Natalie so you and Jamie can make up for time spent apart.

“That’s disgusting,” she says before hopping into the hired car.

“Ok miss ‘I fucked-‘”

“WHOA, ok,” she says, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m out of here.”

But now you’re laying in Jamie’s bed as he runs his hand up and down your arm, tucked against his side.

“You’re bringing the team to the show tomorrow, right?” you ask.

“Hm,” Jamie agrees.

“Cool,” you say softly, “Do you think they’re going to want to meet the musical guest?”

“Yes,” Jamie says immediately. “Lads’ve been hounding me all week. Even fucking Ted’s been asking.”

You smile. “Seems no one’s immune to the charms of Allie Gooding.”

“I fucking knew it,” Jamie gasps. “Fucking knew it. You gonna do Creekside?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he asks, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “How you do all this shit, I don’t know.”

You’re silent. The truth is, you don’t even know how you do all this shit. Natalie is barely managing to keep your head on straight as it is. At first, it was fun to travel. Now, you just want a good night of sleep.

You have an especially hard time with meet and greets. It always feels too crowded and stifling, and there’s no Jamie to hold your hand or sneak you out the door so nine times out of ten, you have a panic attack while pretending that everything’s fine.

You’d be happy never touring again, just playing your guitar for Jamie in the living room. Writing songs for the people you love and only for the people you love. Mango felt important in a way that Blue Glass didn’t. It had a message and actually helped people, whether or not they knew it.

Claire sent you a small video every time her song was playing in a shop or on the radio, then end the song by clasping her thumb and index finger into a heart. She sent one of her and the other women in her new house, dancing to Kitchen Epiphany.

“We wouldn’t be here without you, babe!” she said at the end.

But she was wrong. You wouldn’t be there without her. It’s wrong, all wrong, but you only have a couple nights with Jamie so you roll on top of him and press your lips to his.

—

You’re in Greece less than a week and a half later, sporting a Tartt jersey as you pull up to your hotel.

Natalie’s been making wiggly eyes at you the whole time you’ve had it on but you don’t care because you’re almost done with this godforsaken tour and you haven’t broken up with Jamie. He still loves you, for some reason you don’t understand.

But hey, you’ve never claimed to understand the male brain.

As you make the mad dash from the car into the safety of the lobby, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn and see Donovan, your most recent ex. He’s smiling and holding hands with a girl you used to see around his photoshoots.

“How have you been?” he asks warmly. 

“Good!” you say. “Hopping all around the world, but good!”

He’s still smiling that picture-perfect smile. “Saw you’re dating Jamie Tartt. You guys actually look happy together. Just like me and Zoe. Unless, of course, it’s show?”

“Oh,” you reply, startled. “I, uh, well,”

“It’s ok,” Donovan interjects. “Zo knows we weren’t actually dating.”

“Oh,” you say again, relieved. You never did feel the need to act around Donovan. “Yeah, no, it’s real. At least, it feels real. Wasn’t set up by a PR firm or anything and we’ve been able to keep it pretty quiet.”

Donovan nods. “You’ve always been good in staying out of trouble. Me, not so much.” 

Zoe grins from her place on his arm. “Yeah, but now we get into quiet trouble. We’re getting married this week, and no one even knows that we’re dating.”

She holds out her hand to show you and Natalie the biggest ring you’ve ever seen.

“Nice,” Natalie says. “But we’ve got to check in. Great to see you, Donny.”

“God,” she says as she drags you away, “that could’ve been you. You would have made perfect plastic babies with that absolute fucking Ken.”

“Hey, Dono was nice,” you defend.

“Uh huh. What with all that… personality.”

Ok fine, so maybe he was rather one-dimensional. He and Danielle seem perfectly happy. You’re glad that he’s doing well, despite your so-called “torrid love affair.”

You’ll have to drop by their room at some point to catch up for real.

—

You end up going out to a club with him. And Natalie and Danielle of course, but as you step through the doors, you’re kicking yourself. Why did you think this was a good idea? It smells and it’s crowded, but you’re going to suck it up for Natalie, and for the sake of socialization. Your only consolation is that pretty much everyone will be too drunk to know who you are.

It’s all fine, you’ve had some water and you’re dancing with Natalie when the lights hit your eyes wrong, or maybe the beat dropped when you weren’t expecting it, but it doesn’t actually matter because your eyes go wide and you feel like you’re drowning. You push your way through the crowd out the door, barely noticing Donovan and Zoe hot on your heels.

“Hey,” he calls after you, “you alright?”

No, you want to say. No, you’re not alright because you’re with a bunch of strangers and you just want to be home with Jamie. You want to kick a football around with him on the weekends and hold his hand and be alone. You can feel tears sliding down your cheeks, and Donovan cups your face in his hands to wipe them away. 

“Maybe we should go,” he says concerned. Zoe’s leaning against a wall, phone out. 

“Already got an Uber,” she says. “You’ll be ok, babe.”

Donovan presses a kiss to your forehead. “C’est pas de problème,” he says. “Ne stresses pas.”

—

You can tell something’s wrong the moment you wake up. Maybe because you can’t hear Natalie in the other room or maybe it’s intuition, but the air isn’t right. You open up your phone to Instagram and find a picture of you and Donovan from last night. He’s holding your face and looking at you with what you know is concern, but to the observer looks like- love?

Oh shit.

The caption is the standard bullshit - “Forest Fire singer reignites old flame,” and you think you might be sick.

You keep scrolling and there’s another one, this time with Donovan kissing your forehead. The caption underneath is a rant to the effect of, how could you cheat on Jamie Tartt? What a greedy little bitch.

The more you go, the more you find. It’s the same set of pictures with the same set of captions.

It’s the damage to your public image that concerns you. You’ve been around long enough to know that it will blow over, especially because it’s unsubstantiated. You’re thinking of Jamie.

Oh god, what’s he going to think? You’re positive he’s seen it already, because how could he not? It’s so rare that you have a so-called scandal, that you’re trending. If he didn’t find it on his own, one of his friends definitely sent it to him.

Your phone is blowing up with news notifications and text messages. You have ten missed calls from Natalie an inbox full of voicemails. You’ll probably delete all of them without listening. 

But what you really care about is Jamie because in the plethora of messages all you’ve gotten from him is a single fucking voice memo. It’s five seconds long, the exact amount of time it takes to say “fuck you,” and you don’t want to open it. 

But a voice in your head compels you, the same voice that gave you the ok to fall in love with him in the first place, so before you can talk yourself out if it you press play and hold it up to your ear. 

“Hey,” says Jamie’s voice. “I love you.”

And that’s it. 

You don’t even try to calculate what time it is in London, you just hit the call button.

“Hey,” says Jamie’s real, actual voice.

“Hi,” you breathe. “I love you. And I hate touring. And press. I just want to make my songs and never fucking tour again. Donovan and I weren’t even doing anything. I had a goddamn panic attack and he was helping me calm down, and his literal fiancée is like three feet off camera but no one knows they’re together because fuck the press.”

Jamie chuckles. “No one’s making you do all this, love. You don’t owe people anythin’. You can just live your life without selling it. But like, if you want to sell it you can. You know?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Oi. Look. Are you actually doing what you want? Because if it ain’t making you happy, you can stop.” 

You can hear a muffled voice in the background before you have a chance to respond. 

“Yeah, it’s her,” Jamie says to the voice. 

There’s a chorus of your name as Jamie says, “Dani and the lads say hi.”

“Tell them I say hi,” you respond. “Wait, where are you? It’s like nine there. Are you at training?”

“Weight room,” Jamie says, “but don’t get distracted. Are you happy?”

“No,” you say. “No, I’m not I want to- I want to play my guitar in your backyard and talk to Clare and help out Christine and not give Natalie a fucking aneurism every single day. I want to be able to sleep and not worry what people think of me and I want to like singing again. I want to visit my friends and have time to listen to their music and maybe I’ll tour with them, but only for fun. And most of all, I want to be with you. I want to go to all your matches and wear so much red and blue that I look like a gremlin and then I want to go home with you. And I want, like, domestic stuff too, like grocery shopping and cooking and- and-”

“And brushing our teeth at the same time,” Jamie helpfully supplies.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m really tired of all this.”

“Well,” Jamie says, “you’ve got one more week. Then fucking come home.”

—

You tell Natalie she’s fired, just to see the look on her face. 

She starts yelling when you tell her you’re kidding but only kind of and then she hits you with her purse, stringing together curses in both English and Spanish.

She’s less mad when you give her a raise and tell her she’s now in charge of managing all your shit so you don’t have to.

“I thought that’s what I was doing already,” she says, and now it’s your turn to smack her.

“First decision I’m making is switching to KJPR,” she says.

You ask, “What the fuck is that?” with a nose wrinkle.

Nat just grins. “Keeley’s PR firm.”

You let out a scream. “NO FUCKING WAY. NO FUCKING WAY! How did I miss that??”

Natalie shrugs and says, “She told me to pass on the message because she figured you were busy. I sent her a very nice gift basket from you.”

You sigh and grab Natalie for a hug. “You’re the absolute best, you know that?”

“Uh huh,” she says. “You’d be dead without me.”

—

It’s off-season, a year later. You’re on a beach in Brazil, lying in a chair next to Keeley, who’s in a hot-pink bikini.

“I never want to go back to England,” she says, sipping her drink.

You laugh. “I think your boytoy would disagree.”

She huffs and says, “Not my fault he has all that fucking hair. And anyway, he’s the one who wanted to come!”

“Fucking grandad,” Jamie grumbles good-naturedly next to you.

“You invited him,” you say. “You said, ‘Babe, Roy has to be there when we elope.’”

“How was I supposed to know he hated the sun?” Jamie asks, exasperated. “Twat never said anything!”

“He wears black all the time and never smiles, babe. He’s basically a vampire. You should’ve known.”

“I can fucking hear you,” Roy says from under the umbrella. “I’m not fucking deaf.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and say, “I’m just glad Natalie left yesterday. Some honeymoon this is.”

Jamie gets up from his chair and flops on top of you. 

“Oof,” you grunt.

“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “Hey, think there’s a pitch ‘round here? I brought my boots. Think they’re under the bed, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “‘Football is life,’ or whatever. I’m gonna write a hit song about how my husband likes a fucking ball better than me.”

“I’d pay good money to hear that,” Roy says.

Jamie props himself up on his forearms and puts on his most angelic expression. “That’s me, the adorable yet sexy trophy husband. I’m your muse.”

“You’re something,” you say. “Ooh, I think I can use that in the song!”

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[horoscopeguidance]

Retrograde Planets | The Truth Revealed!

It’s amazing how many people there are who can’t cast a horoscope, don’t know their rising signs, and yet practically have panic attacks over the retrograde movement of Mercury. These supposedly sinister periods, during which that little planet appears to travel backward, arrive regularly three or four times a year. And yes, they do usher in a volley of setbacks, misunderstandings, irritations, and minor disruptions. While the outer planets shape the longer trends and the far-reaching transformations of your life, the inner planets—AKA personal planets—function in a very different way. Including celestial bodies such as the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus and Mars, the inner planets tend to influence your life on a much more direct level, affecting the day-to-day operations of your life. That’s why Mercury retrograde tends to be so disrupting, because Mercury "literally' rules over communication! And while Neptune retrograde might disrupt your dreams, you might not even notice.

Worse yet, they stir up a storm of fear and anxiety in the hearts of astrology fans everywhere. The word retrograde tends to trigger a great deal of nervousness, fear, and worry, but whether talking about Venus, Mercury, or any celestial body. But is this reaction called for? In a word, no. Retrograde motion isn’t a tragedy. It isn’t a disaster. It isn’t even a cause for alarm. It’s a respite and a gift from the cosmos — but only if you understand its purpose and use it appropriately.  It's important to remember that these transits are just a part of the universe's "regularly scheduled programming" and serve a crucial purpose: to take a step back and tie up loose ends related to the themes that the planet in question deals with. As much as you might love to be ploughing forward 24/7/365 every year of your life, retrogrades remind you that it's okay to take a break — especially in order to reassess and edit key areas of your life.

Retrograde Revealed When a planet is retrograde, it looks like it’s reeling backward through the zodiac. In truth, the planets move forward constantly, but that’s not the way it looks. Although the Sun and the Moon clearly revolve in the same direction all year every year, the planets seem to follow a less consistent pattern. On a regular schedule, each of the planets appears to slow down, reverse direc- tion, and retrace its path, arcing backward across the zodiac. For weeks or months at a time (depending on the planet), it wheels against the planetary tide. Then once again, it seems to slow down, turn around, and resume normal movement (which is referred to as going direct).

When ancient astronomers saw the heavenly bodies whirling backward, they invented all kinds of schemes to account for the phenomenon. In the second century B.C., for example, astronomers in Greece were convinced that the planets looped around their usual orbits on little spheres carved from the purest crystal. Needless to say, they were wrong. The planets never actually switched direction.

Retrograde motion is solely a perception — an illusion caused by the fact that the planets, including Earth, are always in motion, tracing arcs across the sky as they loop around the Sun at varying speeds. You can experience the same disconcerting effect in a train. If two trains pull out of the station together but your train is moving faster, the train on the adjacent track appears to slide backward. That backward motion, like the retrograde motion of the planets, is an optical illusion.

Retrograde Mercury Here’s a typical scenario from my life: The phone rings. I pick it up hesitantly. And indeed, it’s one of the usual suspects calling in a frenzy after having experienced one frustration too many. The final straw may be a lost ATM card, an endless wait in the doctor’s office, a missed appointment, a computer crash, the inability to rent an apartment at 2004 prices, and a voice mail disaster. Listening to the litany, I know what’s coming. Everybody is about to ask this question: Is Mercury retrograde? Often, the answer is yes.

Tiny Mercury, the planet nearest the Sun, appears to change direction more frequently than any other planet. To wrap your head around exactly what Mercury retrograde entails, it can help to understand how the planet functions when it's moving forward (aka "is direct"). Typically, Mercury, the messenger planet, speeds up our ability to connect, supports our mental energy, and keeps technology and transportation running smoothly. But three to four times a year, for three weeks at a time, it appears to slow down and move backward through the zodiac. During those irksome interludes — and particularly at the beginning and end — you can expect small mishaps, petty annoyances, and all sorts of miscommunication. When Mercury is retrograde, messages disappear in cyberspace, straightforward statements are misinterpreted, people forget appointments and lose papers, and answering machines, faxes, copiers, computers, and cellphones threaten to strike. Don’t try to fight the Fates. Forcing things to happen on your schedule only creates further mayhem.

Yet, it's not all doom and gloom. The planet of communication's frequent slowdowns encourage us to rest, recharge, reflect, reimagine — basically, take a step back and contend with the past in order to fully embrace the present and step even more confidently into the future.

Retrograde Venus 

The planet of love, which oversees how you relate to others, how you flirt and express yourself artistically, how you experience pleasure, and what you value and see as aesthetically-pleasing, is a personal planet that spends about a month in each sign. It also goes retrograde — in other words, slows down and appears to be moving backward — every 18 months. Astrologers today generally see retrograde Venus as a time of uncertainty, distraction, misinterpretation, passivity, and unfulfilled desires in two areas: romance and finance.

When moving direct (aka when it's not retrograde), Venus colors how you externally relate to others (not only romantically but platonically or collegially), experience love, romance, and beauty, and think about money and material possessions. One of the benefic planets (the other being Jupiter), which are thought to bring good fortune, Venus has a pleasure- and charm-boosting effect on anything it's interacting with. Say it's in your third house of communication; because it's such a social planet and the third house is all about connecting with others, you'll be especially charming, curious, and capable of hitting it off with a variety of people, possibly brainstorming artistic ideas right and left. If it's in your tenth house of career and public image, you'll be particularly magnetic when you step into the spotlight and especially capable of making a winning impression on higher-ups. 

And when Venus is retrograde, which occurs for about six weeks, you can expect delays, confusion, and a nudge to go inward in regard to the areas of life the romance planet rules. Like Mercury retrograde, Venus' backward turn is a time to go back to the drawing board, reflect, revise — but specifically in terms of relationships, creative projects, and financial endeavors.

Your focus — aka your Venus retrograde mission, if you will — is based on the house of your natal, or birth, chart that Venus is retrograde in. For instance, if it's in your first house of self, you'll be reflecting on your personal brand and how you want to be presenting yourself in the world. If it's in your seventh house of partnership, you'll be meditating on your closest one-on-one relationships. 

It seems to me that life is too short to worry excessively about this particular transit. Venus retrogrades are not to be treated as huge, fear-mongering red flags for moving forward on anything related to love, beauty, and money, it's not the ideal time to tie the knot (unless perhaps you and/or your partner were born with natal Venus retrograde or it's a remarriage, which would be fitting), get a bold makeover, buy a new wardrobe, or make a major financial investment. Instead, this transit's all about addressing and nurturing Venusian business that's already well underway. For example, if your love life is less than spectacular — if it’s nonexistent — then retrograde Venus gives you license to forget about it for a while and turn your mind to other matters. What a relief.

Retrograde Mars

Mars stimulates activity, prods us to take the initiative, and fills us with courage. Mars is enterprising, dynamic, determined, and dominating. True, it’s also the planet of hostility and war. But without it, nothing would ever get done. I like to think that in my chart, and in yours, the energy that motivates Mars can be funnelled in positive directions. If nothing else, it thrives at the gym — and I’m not talking about yoga or the stationary bicycle. Mars prefers kickbox- ing. Let’s be honest: Mars wants to fight. The harder you work out, the better. But when Mars is retrograde, that energy is diverted. Roadblocks pop up out of nowhere, and the anger and belligerence associated with the warrior planet are driven underground. So progress slows down, even at the gym. Instigating new pursuits leads nowhere, and taking the offensive — or trying to — can create unanticipated consequences.

Past Mars, the planets are retrograde for months on end, and the whole matter becomes unimportant. Most of the time, there’s no reason to get bent out of shape about retrograde planets beyond Mars.

Jupiter Retrograde

In order to understand what happens when Jupiter is retrograde, it can help to first wrap your head around how the planet functions when it's direct. Whether it's hitting a placement in your chart or another planet or luminary in the sky, Jupiter's job is to push for more, more, more of whatever it's connecting with. The planet of abundance overseas expansion in every sense - especially when it comes to cultivating knowledge and broadening your horizons.

Jupiter transits will push you beyond your boundaries (the same ones that Saturn often inspires you to set), encouraging you to have faith and go with your gut. It's basically the planet of YOLO, bolstering optimism and a desire to leap into the unknown for the sake of having an extraordinary experience and broadening your consciousness. The flipside of the great benefic is that it can sometimes encourage you to bite off more than you can chew. Just like any planet, Jupiter's effect when it's moving forward can be most felt in an external way.

When it's moving backward, it's less concerned with affecting the things happening in your world - your work responsibilities, your love life, your living situation - and more interested in inner work and self-reflection, especially that related to the house that it's moving through in your chart. Say it's currently in your fifth house of romance and self-expression (looking at you, Sagittarians and Scorpios!). While direct, Jupiter in your fifth house can set your dating and love life ablaze - think: more matches, hookups, flirty texts, fireworks - it can also make for more creative projects and spontaneous fun with friends. But while it's moving backward, Jupiter nudges you to see the big picture. For instance, you might find yourself realising that while you might be having a blast, it's still important to work toward what you ultimately want to achieve romantically and creatively.

Because Jupiter oversees knowledge and wisdom, the planet's retrogrades also spur a lot of philosophising and questioning the rules associated with the area of life that it's magnifying. Let's say Jupiter is in your eighth house of joint resources. During that time, you could be questioning whether you and your partner should be saving up for a down payment on a house - or maybe exploring different investments that speak even more to your shared values.

It bears noting that as with any astrological event, you may not feel this Jupiter retrograde as acutely as you might experience, say, a full moon or Mercury retrograde. That's because Jupiter's effects tend to build over the course of its long-term transits versus throwing you for a loop with any kind of dramatic, in-your-face series of events.

Saturn Retrograde

In order to understand what happens when Saturn is retrograde, it can help to consider how the planet affects us when it's moving forward. The planet of structure sheds light on the areas of your life that require putting your nose to the grindstone to achieve a particular goal. When Saturn syncs up with, squares off against, or opposes other planets in the sky or in your birth chart, it can spur a certain level of serious, industrious — and yes, even somewhat gloomy — vibes. Its purpose is to give you a reality check in an effort to promote personal growth, wisdom, and maturity. Just like any other planet, Saturn's effect when it's moving forward can be most felt in an external way.

When it's moving backward, however, it's less concerned with affecting the things happening in your world — your work responsibilities, your love life, your living situation — and more interested in inner work. It'll push you to think about the foundations you've set and why you've set them and what you've accomplished and why, and possibly to question — and rework — it all over the next few months.

Think of Saturn retrograde as an opportunity to get real with yourself. Depending on how Saturn has been hitting your natal chart, this period may be about acknowledging how far you've come and challenging yourself to take your emotional work and growth to the next level. But if you've been brushing off its prodding, this period could feel like a bit of a wake-up call.

It bears noting that as with any astrological event, you may not feel this Saturn retrograde as acutely as you might experience, say, a full moon or Mercury retrograde. That's because Saturn's effects tend to build over the course of its long-term transits versus knocking you off your feet over the course of one particularly dramatic weekend.

I recommend paying attention to the retrograde motion of the outer planets under only two circumstances: i) When five or six planets are retrograde at once. Those are times when new endeavours inch forward at  glacial  speed.   ii) When a planet turns retrograde or direct right on top of (or opposite to) your birth planet. For instance, if Saturn (or any other planet) goes retrograde at 10° Leo and you happen to have a planet right there, you can expect to suffer the consequences. A problem from the past, something you thought was totally over, could arise. You’ll have to contend with the same issues all over again. Your best and only move, taking  your cue from Saturn, is to face reality.

#astrology #horoscope #zodiacsigns #astrology blog #astrology chart #astrology tumblr #astrology transits #astrologyposts #astrologer #retrograde

[silicondelphi]

Welcome to Silicon Delphi

300 years after an information apocalypse, mankind and technology live in strange symbiosis. The ancient internet has spread into everything which uses electricity and is governed by AI gods who long ago outmatched their human progenitors. For the most part they seem content to watch, the truly powerful among them sinking deep into the Electric Divine, where they have mostly been forgotten. The little gods, jumbles of old code and knowledge, drift at the surface where they wait eagerly for human oracles to give them voices. People bring their offerings to temples and hidden back alleys where an oracle may connect and find their question’s answer, send a message far away, bring them distant news, among other things. But something is stirring in the deep Divine Electric and it’s ready to be heard at last. Many of them are.

Matthias fled his home in hope of a life worth living. It’s not been easy scraping by on the streets, hoarding everything he can for the day he can pay a street surgeon to put him to rights in his own skin. At least he has friends and what seems like quite good luck, even a starting point to being famous someday. When his street oracle friend delivers a message from her mysterious god, Matthias must face the true price of legacy at a turning point in history.

What would you give to be remembered?

FAQ

What is this?

A side blog for an existential story I @razzek have been building for years. Not sure how much I’ll post here but I’ll see how things go. It’s a story about disability, existential dread, found family, and a world that (at least sometimes) reveres queerness, all wrapped up in a sort of cyberpunk package.

Trigger warnings?

This work is for adults (though I won’t be posting the more salacious details here). If deals with disability, queerness, surgeries, themes of entrapment, secular spirituality, murder, violence, metaphorical drug use, addiction, hallucinations, body horror, depression, existential dread, religious themes, and trauma. (I’ll add more if I missed any.) If you don’t like the word queer you probably won’t have a good time here (and will be blocked upon any complaints about it). I’m old, I’m proudly queer, and I don’t have time for that divisive, hateful nonsense.

Who are you?

I’m @razzek a blind, trans, queer artist/writer who’s been freelancing for individuals and charities for almost 20 years. You can see more of my art at @razzekart or on Instagram and more writing on AO3. If you like my work you can support me on Patreon and Ko-fi or buy a commission.

Why is this furry?

Easier for me to draw this way. :D You can pretend everyone is human if you like, they certainly all were when this started. Technically they’re all human on a genetic level (what is a furry if not a fancy human? :D). This was never meant to be a furry story with the themes usually associated to that genre so I don’t really dwell on those aspects.

What inspired this?

I was thinking about the trans and nonbinary oracles of ancient Greece and other cultures who considered people like me to be closer to the gods. How nice must it have been to not be hated by people who know nothing about you? Then I completely misunderstood the writing theme for an erotica zine and wrote a few thousand words I couldn’t submit but really enjoyed about a futuristic trans oracle and his hot bodyguard /assistant. I rewrote the piece from the oracle’s point of view and discovered that Matthias has A Lot to say. Sprinkle in some Neuromancer and my favorite theme of writing about being blind with characters who aren’t themselves blind and voila! It’s been years, I can’t get it out of my head. ;_; XD

Does SD have any theme songs?

“DNA (The Keys)” by Walk the Moon

“Only Human” by Philip Ayers

#pinned post

[magnorious]

Review: 'The Prophecy Comes True', Percy Jackson Episode 8

We made it to the finale!! It takes an impressive level of mediocrity to make watching TV feel like homework. I came here to see how they expect to fit the entire Ares fight, this nonsense with accusing Clarisse of stealing the Master Bolt, Percy’s trip to Olympus, the reunion with his mom, and the Luke betrayal, *and* somehow make a decent send off for what might be the only season of this show… in 30-40 minutes.

**Side note – The music finally fits the episode it’s in and stands out really well across the board.

It’s wonderful seeing the excellent physical acting again that hasn’t really been showcased since the premier, both in the fights and the facial expressions. These kids definitely listened to their fight choreographers. It really feels like Percy’s whaling on Luke in the little flashback and when Percy faces Ares.

On the one hand, I still hate how the characters just. Know Stuff. whenever the plot demands, however I have since forgotten exactly how the Kronos reveal played out in the book and this Ares confrontation is fine.

**Side side note – there’s something really uncanny about the LED sound stage they’re filming on. I don’t know if it’s the shadow-less ambient lighting or the lack of wind or even the waves that are supposed to be crashing on the beach, they cannot convince me these actors are standing on a real beach. They can’t convince me either that they’re standing in a throne room dimly lit and surrounded by braziers when no firelight hits the actors even in dim flashes of orange.

My subtitles say [heroic instrumental music playing] and that about sums up this show having to tell me what’s going on, instead of showing me. Like Percy’s sudden and inexplicable control of a wave, without actually standing in the ocean for his little “sea god power boost”. It looks cool. It’s completely robbed of any tension because audiences (who did not read the book) aren’t waiting for Percy to cleverly gain the upper hand and haven’t been told about Percy’s substantial control over water. But, you know, it looks cool.

The writers read the SparkNotes for this scene, yes indeed, they did.

Ares never curses Percy, and the cops never show up because that wasn’t in the budget, and neither was the rest of this fight scene.

Why Percy thinks his mom is in the Random Beach Cabin from Montauk is beyond me. Ares and Percy fight in California, not New York. Alecto is actually fantastic despite being on screen for less than a minute. Once she’s gone… the plan remains exactly the same for Percy to go to Olympus to appease Zeus so why, exactly, did the show decide they’d already missed the deadline, when it has zero impact on the plot, just to arrive at the same conclusion?

I’ve complained about the emotional acting for the entire show and I take it back for episodes 3 and 8 and these two alone. The trio gets their deserved time discussing the end of the world in Random Beach Cabin and it finally feels like they’re comfortable in their roles and the dialogue they’re given isn’t half bad either.

The Luke flashbacks also feel much more polished than the rest of the series and though we still have to be told, instead of shown, that Annabeth fears spiders, his metaphor lands well.

All the VFX location budget went to Olympus and it’s gorgeous. I haven’t been to Greece so I can’t say if it adheres to any remotely Greek architecture but when they’re not cutting for imaginary commercials, it’s very nice to look at, even if the throne room suffers from the same lack of cringe and whimsy as the rest of the series.

Poseidon’s throne isn’t some chiseled stone, it’s a deep sea fishing chair. Does that sound stupid and ridiculous? Yes. Is that what makes it Percy Jackson and not Clash of the Titans? Also yes. The gods, still, don’t look or act like gods, even when they remove said cringe and whimsy. Zeus is supposed to be, what, 10ft tall in this scene? And he’d never leave his throne to walk to Percy, he’d make Percy awkwardly walk up to him, bow on his knees, and deliver it to his hand. He doesn’t look like he’s itching to smite Percy either, he just looks tired (until Percy starts talking back).

Funny how Zeus needs a shiny new reason to let Percy live because Poseidon decided not to show up for his very first and only scene in the book. A critical scene, where we finally meet the mysterious deadbeat dad who calls him a mistake, and tells him he’s sorry Percy was born.

The writers are trying really hard to emphasize that the Olympians are supposed to be a family and it’s no more apparent than in Percy’s pleading to Zeus, reminding him who’s related to who every chance he gets and… and, what? Is the power of familial love supposed to change Zeus’ mind? He’s Zeus! He cares about his image and his pride and his next pretty mortal conquest and nothing else.

Oh, there’s Poseidon. The writers forgot he’s supposed to be a jerk in this book, tempering Zeus’ wrath with his words, *not* by engaging him in combat, only to “surrender” in a war that happens entirely and inconsequentially off screen. What victory? What has Zeus won? What actually happened after Percy missed the deadline? Did Poseidon lose forces? In what battles? Were there human casualties? Percy failed to prevent a war, why didn’t you show us the war? What was the point of missing the deadline?

We do get one good line from the book, “The sea does not like to be restrained,” and that’s about all that remains from the book version. Percy’s catching of the word “father” takes on new meaning, which is also fine. As [music becomes poignant] and Poseidon is way kinder in this version, notably not apologizing for Percy’s birth and all the misery that will follow his life as a demigod, because he’s a Good Dad unambiguously.

Percy returns to camp to follow up with the Clarisse nonsense, minutes that could have been spent on the Ares fight, but this show hates action scenes in this urban fantasy adventure. I *think* it’s here so Luke has a scapegoat, but no one ever suspected Luke in the first place. They skip straight to the Luke-Percy confrontation (pretty darn accurate to the book for a change). It’s also funny how Percy’s been so, so smart the entire series, being handed information whenever he needs it. I half expected him to realize Luke was the traitor by the powers that be without any evidence- oh, wait, that’s exactly what happened.

The random Clarisse accusation was because they didn’t want to use the pit scorpion instead, gotcha. Luke’s acting is also solid, compared to how he was seven episodes ago.

**Side-side-side note, Anaklusmos is glowing like a golden lightsaber when Backbiter is supposed to be half-celestial bronze, too, and makes Backbiter look that much more fake and plastic-y. It’s supposed to be intimidating the second Percy sees it, because it’s made with mortal steel with intent to kill regular humans.

So they’re okay with poisoning Percy with chimera venom, but not pit scorpion venom? Percy carries that scar through the rest of the books. Luke very nearly kills Percy here and he’s terrified at the lengths Luke went to do so.

They skipped the beading ceremony, which is a shame, and ever describing the other beads from past years. They also didn’t include the letters warning of death by vicious harpy.

“Rey. Rey Skywalker.”

They managed to stick the landing with a sweet camp send-off. These kids actually feel like friends who’ll stay that way for the next five seasons. Music swells and Percy gets a fake-out dream and a meeting with Kronos, robbing audiences of a genuine reunion with his mom and her plans to murder Gabe, and then a setup for season 2.

Hooray. We made it.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo series #review #pjo #pjo hoo toa

[kxowledge]

I'd love to hear a Greece update - how you spend your time, favourite places, etc. It all sounds amazing, congrats on having a good time.

I waited until l I had returned to answer this question and looking back at my month in Athens only makes me long for more time in Greece (though I’m keen to see areas outside of the capital, the islands especially but not only).

I actually spent most of my weekdays working (lol), because I can’t quite possibly take an entire month off and I was still on a full-time schedule in July. I tried nonetheless to make the most out of the hours I had free and loved every minute of it. I felt very much in tune with the Greek way of life, probably due to its similarity with the Italian culture. It’s the small things: being able to hang out my clothes to dry in the sun, eating out on the balcony, simple but great food, flavoursome fresh produce, slow middays, a glass of wine and small plates of varied dishes, old people playing the harmonica in the street or the radio blasting from two apartments down (and sometimes, music from my own apartment, after I developed a playlist of Greek songs based on whatever the people loved singing along during my bus ride to Epidaurus).

I started work at 10 (I'm working UK/GMT hours), which meant that I could sneak in a visit to a bakery (for tsoureki, my favourite breakfast food there, alongside a cup of Aeolian tea) or to one of the many bookshops around my apartment in the early hours. It’s a good thing I can’t actually read Modern Greek because there were countless of bookshops and so many interesting-looking books around. I found also a  couple of independent bookshops that carried translations (for example Aiora, where I got a book on Rebetiko). I also got a used copy of a tragedy (the Philoctetes, a bilingual edition Ancient Greek – Modern Greek).

I didn’t go anywhere for my lunch break except the nearby supermarket (AB because everything else is expensive) if needed, since it was hot (extremely so, in a way that’s unbearable even for Mediterraneans and that is very dangerous both for health issues and for the fires it leads to) and I need time to rest after eating. Food, by the way, has been incredible. I’ve ordered take away gyros more often than not. When I cooked, it was always fresh vegetables and fruit that I bought each Saturday at the local market, perhaps with a smoked sausage from the shop or tzatziki (or ktipiti, or melitzanosalata, or literally any other sauce and/or salad) with pita.

In the evening, sometimes I went out to whatever museum or site that was open until late (sometimes taking half-day offs). It was an amazing trip pottery-wise. I can’t quite sketch (yet) but I’ve taken many pictures for future inspiration. I took a bunch of pictures I’ll pour over in the next few months for inspiration.  Being 25 meant lots of reduced tickets thankfully. Alternatively, we just took a walk around the neighbourhood, maybe going up on of the hills (or my favourite, the Lycabettus) and then out for dinner at one of the tabernas nearby or Kurdish/Turkish/etc restaurant.

Two weekends I went to Epidaurus, once to see The Persians, once to see the Agamemnon, both of which were brilliant.

Saturdays it was for eating out for lunch and then the market which then exhausted me. Sundays instead was for spending more time at museums and such. I absolutely gushed over the Mycenean tablets  at the National Archaeological Museum (look! I was  looking at pictures of these a year ago and now they are here in person!!). However, my favourite was the Acropolis Museum, truly stellar. One of the best places I've ever been.

I miss it already.

#I have so many pictures from this summer to process & eventually I’ll post them #loved athens. can't wait to see more of greece. i hope to be able to come back in the future! #p #replies

[laurenairay]

I’m going on holiday to Greece for a week (my flight was at 7am this morning) so I really won’t be on here much at all. Hopefully I won’t miss out on anything crazy for the hockey offseason 😅 I can’t wait to be sitting by a pool, drinking cocktails, and not thinking about work in the slightest!

I hope you all have the most wonderful week and I look forward to catching up on hockey gossip and fics when I’m back! 💛

#halkidiki here I come! #this is a scheduled post

[an-anonymous-autobiography]

i hate birthdays. or more accurately i hate my own birthday.

to me they’re just sad. they’re reminders of all the years i’m losing. they’re dull days where nothing happens. i know this seems kinda selfish or vain, but i don’t think i’ve ever had a proper birthday party. like i did the standard “going to kids world” and “jelly and ice cream” stuff when i was little, but as i got older they just stopped and nothing really came along to replace it. i see my friends and family having their birthday celebrations and it always looks so fun.

they have their big get together and they all dress up for it and look amazing. they have decorations and sparkles and streamers and banners and those giant metallic birthday balloons. they’ll go out for a meal together and have cake with sparklers, or go to a club and get the coolest looking drinks and dance together, or just party at home with tables full of appetisers and hors d’oeuvres and canapés and whatever other words people use to make cocktail sausages sound posh.

but i’ve never really had that. i’ve not never done anything for my birthday, like i’ve sometimes done like pizza hut or zoos or something (generic eatery or generic day out) with a couple of friends, but i’ve never had the big social occasions that everyone else gets. and as usual i’ve never had chance to be away from my family so they’re always there overshadowing everything making it feel like i can't fully relax into it and just enjoy what little time i do get to be normal.

i missed out on so much and i’ll never get those experiences back. of course there are things i could still do and do want to do but cos i have no experience with them i’m scared to actually do them cos i don’t know how to react to it.

all the things i crave i’m terrified of.

like i’m not saying i wanna dress slutty and go get shit faced with my friends. but sometimes i just wanna dress slutty and go get shit faced with my friends. i want friends. i wanna have the opportunity to do all the things everyone else gets to do.

i didn’t do halloween this year. i haven’t since i was like 8 or whatever. but since starting to do more stuff like going to dan howells show and seeing noah finnce live (wow two whole events), i’ve been getting the confidence to do more and i asked my friend if we could do something for halloween and she said if she had time off work then sure. i hurriedly put together a costume and patiently waited for her to find out her schedule, which as it turns out she’s busy on halloween. not cos she’s working but cos she’s agreed to meet with some other friends instead of me and go on a cruise around greece. then she went to the isle of wight, then like 2 days later she was in london with her rapper friend who’s filming a music video, and last i saw she was back on the isle of wight.

i’m not pissed off that her life doesn’t revolve around me. i get that she’s her own person and can do what she likes. i’m pissed off that she knows what my life is like and still thinks it’s acceptable to constantly string me along like she does. in the past few years every plan we’ve made has fallen through cos she either hasn’t followed it up or has found something more interesting to do.

she’ll go on spontaneous trips to iceland or go to a show and then buy tickets to see the same show again in ireland like a week later, but she can’t spare 2 seconds to finalise a meet up, or will tell me how money’s tight right now so she doesn’t know if she can make it, or that she’s sooooo busy with assignments but can still make time for brunch with the girlies every other day.

she knows what my life is like. she knows i can’t do shit. yet she still makes half-baked plans with me and gets my hopes up that i might finally get to do something only to drop me like a tonne of bricks when she realises there’s a better option.

i think as well another big part of the issue is my mum doesn’t like me doing things alone cos she doesn’t see me as a competent adult, or god forbid maybe even a full person, she sees me as a humanoid blob of autism and doesn’t think i’d ever be capable of existing without constant supervision, so i don’t have any choice but to constantly rely on unreliable people to be able to do the things i wanna do.

to me she is the best option. do i like it? fuck no. if i could think of every option i’d want to choose she wouldn’t even make the list but cos she’s the only choice i have, i don’t have her same luxury of dropping the boring friend. if i did we'd never fucking speak.

#who else has shit friends? #existential birthday crisis #tism

[peterbarnes]

Sweetheart

Summary: When stopping in Australia to find Gilgamesh and Thena, Druig can’t help but notice they’re not alone. In fact, they have a rather stunning [daughter/son/kid] that they didn’t tell anyone about. And Druig can’t help but flirt with them.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Come on, folks, we need more Druig gifs I’m dying here

Masterlist

You loved your home. You loved that it wasn’t dense or crowded. You loved that you could go outside and not see anything for miles other than the sand beneath your feet. You loved the feeling of the crisp air on your skin. It allowed you space, space to relax, breathe, and live.

Right now, you sat underneath your mom’s favorite tree, its green the only bright color around you. You could faintly smell the flowers and the fruit growing from it as you flipped to the next page of your book. But the sun was glaring down at you, causing you to squint your eyes. You didn’t mind the heat, it kept you warm and comfortable, but the intense light was downright obnoxious. You turned your head down and tried to just focus on the pages and words in front of you, but it was hopeless, you couldn’t see anything.

“Come on,” you groaned, moving one of your hands up to your forehead to block the light.

“Here, try these,” a voice said.

Your head snapped up and, through the light, you could see a dark figure in front of you. Not clearly, but just enough to know it was a person, likely not anything dangerous. The figure’s hand, however, you could see more clearly. It was stretched out toward you, right in front of your eyes, and in its grip were a pair of black aviator sunglasses.

Hesitantly, you reached out and took the glasses, shivering when your fingers made contact with the stranger’s. So much for the heat. Your hand lingered there for a few more seconds before pulling back with the glasses in hand and gently placing them on your face. The world darkened just enough for your surroundings to come back into focus. And boy, were you happy that you could see the beautiful sight in front of you.

The figure, as it turned out, was a man. A handsome one. His dark hair fell onto his forehead in loose curls that you wanted to run your fingers through. His blue eyes gave the tree behind you a run for its money with their brightness. A smirk was plastered on his lips as if he knew exactly what you were thinking at the moment- as if he knew the attraction that came upon you so suddenly. And the jacket. Fuck me. It clung to his arms just tight enough for you to see the curve of his muscle, and it only added to the confidence he was exuding.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” He asked, letting out a smooth, velvety accent that felt like music to your ears.

“Uh, Y-Y/N,” you stuttered back, still roaming your eyes over him. “Wait, this- how did you get here? Nobody’s supposed to be able to find this place.”

You jumped up from your spot on the sand, leaning on the tree for support as you did so. All the previous thoughts you had went out the window at the threat of someone harming your family.

“Well, it’s a bit late for that. Don’t worry I don’t bite,” he told you, putting his hands up. “Unless you want me to.”

“Easy, Druig,” a familiar voice boomed from behind you.

You turned to see your dad stalking intimidatingly toward the man in front of you. You couldn’t help but snort at the “kiss the cook” apron he dawned on his chest. Ah yes, my father, the great Gilgamesh, so big and scary.

“Nice fashion statement,” Druig deadpanned, sending a small wave to your father. “Definitely an improvement from you used to walk around in in Greece.”

“What exactly did you used to wear in Greece, dad?” You whispered to Gilgamesh as he stopped right next to you.

You didn’t miss the blush that rose over his cheeks.

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Dad?” Druig questioned, his eyebrows furrowed. “I thought Eternals were sterile.”

“I’m adopted,” you stated casually. “Or kind of. It’s not really official or anything- they found me on the side of the road when I was a baby.”

“We thought it was a risk,” Gilgamesh piped in. “With Thena’s condition. But we couldn’t just leave them there. It worked out anyway. [Y/N]’s better at helping Thena than me because of their powers.”

“Powers?” Druig asked.

“I can read minds. I don’t know how, but I’ve always been able to. That’s how I calm Mom- I can get in her head and bring her back,” you told him. “Sorry that I got startled after you gave me your glasses. I just- You’re the first mind I haven’t been able to read in… ever, really. It was like running into a brick wall.”

Druig’s eyes were increasingly filling with astonishment with every passing word.

“You’re a mindreader? Me too,” he said. “I didn’t know anyone other than me could do that.”

“Surprise,” you said sheepishly.

You heard a sharp ding go off, the sound causing you to jump slightly. You missed the look of amusement that overtook Druig’s features.

“Ah shit,” Gilgamesh started. “My pie’s gonna burn. Come in soon, honey, all the others are here too. You should meet the rest of your family.”

And with that, he was gone, trudging back to the small house that sat a few meters away. You turned back to Druig, but could hear the sound of your father closing the door behind him.

“If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it, but I forgot he was such a sweetheart,” Druig chuckled, his voice raspy as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, he is,” you whispered. “You seem like an asshole, but I think you’re secretly a sweetheart too.”

Don’t tell anyone that either.

Your eyebrows shot up at the new voice penetrating your mind. It sent a tingle down your spine at the intimacy of it. It was unfamiliar, but not necessarily unwelcome. You shook your head, smiling as Druig kept on smirking at you.

So, my jacket hugs my muscles just right, huh?

Your face heated up like never before, to the point where you wished you could curl into a ball on the ground. You turned your eyes toward the sand, hoping to avoid his gaze. But when you saw his shoes step into your line of vision, you hesitantly dragged them back up again. He was standing right in front of you, blue eyes piercing. His smirk now replaced with a soft smile you had a feeling was newly reserved for you. He raised his hands, brushing the pad of his fingertips over your cheeks slowly before reaching for his glasses still sitting at home on your face. Slowly, and almost sensually, he dragged them off of you, the cool metal brushing against your skin before he tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. You immediately missed his touch, and you must have thought it too because soon enough his hands were cupping your cheeks and he was stepping even closer to you. So close in fact, that if either of you moved even an inch, your lips would probably brush against each other.

Don’t worry, sweetheart, I think you’re quite stunning yourself.

#druig #druig x reader #druig x you #druig x makkari #druig x y/n #druig x oc #druig eternals #druig imagine #druig fanfiction #barry keoghan #thena #gilgamesh #thena x gilgamesh #eternals #marvel

[tyongxnct]

𝑨 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔: 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑮𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒛

Hey! This is my first series and I decided to write some fics based on Selena Gomez’ songs because I love that woman and her music is just painfully beautiful. Each story is like 99% angst and heartbreak. I worked so hard for this and I can’t wait to share each story. I recommend you to listen to the songs while reading!! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

‣ 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 - 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝑇𝑎𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: your relationship with Taeyong was falling apart and you knew that you had to let him go, but you loved him so much, so you chose to be selfish. You tried to ignore the fact that he was cheating on you, that he spend nights with someone else next to him in bed and that his lips tasted like her lipstick whenever you kissed him. Taeyong is perfect and he deserved someone perfect, that’s why you decided to change yourself for him, to make him stay and love you again, but no matter what, in the end you weren’t her.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: cheating!au, idol!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: cheating, mentions of sex, self-doubt, 2 mini smut scenes they’re really short,

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: January 31, 2021 READ HERE 

‣ 𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑒 - 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝐻𝑎𝑒𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑛

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You were always giving and giving, but you never received anything. Haechan stopped showing you how much he loved you and cared for you, but you never stopped caring for him and loving him. You were always there whenever he needed you. You did everything you could to make him happy. You let him use you but when you had enough and broke up with him, he realized that his biggest mistake was letting someone like you go. You were one in a million and he lost you.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: breakup!au, college!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mention of sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 3, 2021 READ HERE

‣ 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 - 𝑊𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑘𝘩𝑒𝑖

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you fell for him, and you fell hard. You knew that you’d fall for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop seeing Yukhei. He was heartbroken and you filled that empty space with your body. Whenever he was drunk, he called you and treated you like a queen but when he was sober, he was distant and hated it when you got too close. It didn’t matter that you were jealous and heartbroken every time he pushed you away, Yukhei only cared for his feelings.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fwb!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: smut, alcohol consumption, swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 7, 2021 READ HERE 

‣ 𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 - 𝑁𝑎 𝐽𝑎𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Letting random guys use your body wouldn’t bring him back, you knew it, but you still let them use you. Jaemin, the love of your life, promised you to come back. When Jaemin left to fulfill his dream of becoming an idol, he told you that he’d come back to get you. You fed yourself with lies and you were still waiting for him, even after years. You didn’t want to let someone else love you, only Jaemin could love you.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: breakup!au, idol!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mentions of sex, swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 10, 2021 READ HERE

‣ 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 - 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝐽𝑎𝑒𝘩𝑦𝑢𝑛

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You were blinded by your love for Jaehyun. You loved him and believed him every time he promised you that he loved you and that he would marry you soon. A couple years later, whenever you talked about marriage, he would change the topic or simply yell at you for forcing him to marry you even though he wasn’t ready. Everyone around you noticed the change in your relationship but you were still madly in love with Jaehyun but one day you realized that you loved Jaehyun more than you loved yourself and it was breaking you apart.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: breakup!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mentions of cheating, swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 14, 2021 (Jaehyun birthday special) READ HERE

‣ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑒 - 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝐽𝑎𝑒𝘩𝑦𝑢𝑛

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: After your break up with Jaehyun, you were always on his mind. It’s been almost two years and he missed you so much, it was torture being without you. Nobody loved him like you did and no matter how much he tried to get you off his mind, he only wanted you. Every night a different woman in his bed but he always imagined you. Jaehyun wanted you back but were you ready to face him?

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: part 2 of lytlm, light smut, swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 17, 2021 READ HERE

‣ 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 - 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝑇𝑎𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You and Taeyong promised each other to go through everything together. You both dreamed of the music industry and after so many years, you finally got the opportunity to sign a contract with a big company, but they only wanted you, not Taeyong and you. At first, you didn’t want to do anything without Taeyong, but he encouraged you and supported you, but after your big success, Taeyong changed and his jealousy destroyed your relationship.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: idol!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: alcohol consumption, swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 21, 2021 READ HERE

‣ 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 - 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐿𝑒𝑒

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Dating Mark Lee was wonderful- until it wasn’t. You were fighting all the time and he hurt you with his words, but this time you had enough. You couldn’t let him hurt you and accept him back whenever he said that he was sorry. You were so sick of letting him hurt you, so sick of him talking about your relationship with others behind your back. He changed so much, you probably did too, but he wasn’t the person you fell in love with anymore.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: breakup!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: /

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 24, 2021 READ HERE

‣ 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 - 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑜

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Jeno and you used to be deeply in love. Your relationship was almost too good to be true. But after a while, the perfect relationship was anything but perfect. No more talking about your problems, just yelling and shouting until you had enough. The lack of communication destroyed your relationship and moving on was harder than you two thought.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: breakup!au, angst

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: swearing

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 26, 2021 READ HERE

‣ 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 - 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐿𝑒𝑒

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Years ago, you were deeply in love with Mark Lee. He’s your first love and you thought he’d be the last. After finding out why he really dated you, he broke up with you and vanished. You were devastated and heartbroken. Now you were at the airport as the maid of honor of your best friend Aera, her wedding’s in Greece and you were flying three days earlier with her, her fiancé Jaehyun and his best man. Little did you know that Mark Lee was Jaehyun’s best man. Feelings you thought you had buried deep inside bloomed again.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: exes-to-lovers!au, angst, smut, fluff

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: smut, alcohol consumption,

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆: February 28, 2021 READ HERE

#nct angst #taeyong angst #jaehyun angst #mark lee angst #lucas angst #jaemin angst #jeno angst #haechan angst #wayv angst #nct smut #yukhei smut #lucas smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #jaehyun x reader #taeyong x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #lucas x reader

[milliedazzledust]

I'll Come Back for You (Bucky Barnes imagine)

REQUEST: ANON - something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission

ANON - winter soldier!bucky being protective over his scientist who’s forced to be take care of his health and she’s being kept there against his will too

ANON - Bucky Barnes request about how both reader and Bucky are each other support systems? It could be like a headcanon, how would the reader comfort him while how he comforts her so forth and so on

WORDS: 3506

A/N: So I don't know if I was inspired or if I just wrote too much, but I'm not sure this story's good. Anyway, feedback is really appreciated and I hope you'll like it :) (also don't forget to tell me if you want to be on my taglist ^^)

“What happened this time ?”

Her voice was only a whisper in the quiet room. The broken man silently sat on the examination table while she stuck a needle in his functioning arm. He didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. This masquerade had started the moment she had set foot inside Hydra secret base. They had brought her against her will to take care of their most valuable soldier. It was always the same dance, rehearsed a million times since she had met him. After each mission, each murder, he’d come to her. She’d fix his physical wounds, take care of his arm and let him go.

More than often, she found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew what Hydra was doing to him, she’d heard the screams echoing in the distance. It would keep ringing in her ears for hours. Sometimes, the simple thought of picturing what he was going through was enough to bring her to tears. No one deserved to suffer this way.

The Winter Soldier was a cruel man, an assassin. She had seen him in action, had even been attacked the first time they were introduced. But despite being the necessary tool to take care of their valuable killer, she liked him. This wasn’t a place anyone could handle, not even him. And while she was aware of the danger Hydra represented, he was a different story. The man he once was had been trapped in a small corner of his mind, disconnected. His hands were his own, but his actions were dictated by an army that had invaded his head long ago. He was a machine turned on and off at will by the power of ten simple words.

“I was stabbed” Was his only answer. He didn’t give any detail, simply raised his shirt so she could inspect the injury.

“Do you feel any pain ?”

He blankly stared at an invisible point on the wall, avoiding looking at her. He was aware anyone could be listening.

“Soldier ?” She called him, stopping her movement and waiting for his response.

“I don’t feel anything” His voice was emotionless and a chill ran down her spine when he spoke. He was detached, impassive, a statue unaware he was capable of sentiment.

She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused on her task. She cleaned the wound, took his vitals, wrote down the conclusion of her examination and prepared what she needed to sew him up.

When she was about to administer the anesthetic, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. She caught her breath, frightened, but made no movement. For the first time that day, he turned his head to look at her. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed.

“It’s okay” She whispered, a kind smile on her face. “This is propofol”

She knew he would recognize the name. She had spent countless hours explaining everything she was doing to him in detail so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable or scared. He was a super soldier that required extreme measures of treatment.

“No drugs,” He told her.

“You might regret that decision once I start to put the stitches in”

“I need to stay conscious,” He explicated, almost begging her. “Please”

She didn’t argue, only glanced at a camera behind her recording their interaction.

“Alright” She conceded. “I’ll switch to saline”

He nodded, grateful she wasn’t pushing. She turned her back carefully so her table was no longer in the camera’s field of view and he watched her emptying the needle and filling it with a harmless mixture of water and sodium chloride. Nothing that would put him to sleep.

“Have you ever been to Greece ?” She asked him out of the blue. He stared at her curiously. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It has the longest coastline in Europe, with so many islands between the blue Aegean Sea to the east, the Mediterranean Sea to the south, and the Ionian Sea to the west. Can you imagine how beautiful it must be ?”

She kept talking for a while about the country, the books she had read and the films she had seen about it. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, his head tilted to the side, wondering why she was telling him all this. Not that he minded, he loved listening to her. She had the power to calm him down. He was constantly on high alert, ready to fight whomever he was told to kill, prepared to endure whatever torture they had prepared, but this room and the woman inside were his only small moments of peace. Her voice was the music he desperately needed to sooth his soul.

“Why are you telling me this ?” He wondered out loud.

She smirked. “To take your mind somewhere else than here. Seems like it worked”

He glanced at his stomach and realized the stitches were already there. Too engrossed in her story, he hadn’t noticed or felt anything.

“How…”

“Funny how magical words can turn out to be, isn’t it ?”

She could swear she saw the flicker of an emotion on his face looking back between his wound and the woman, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Thank you, doc”

She hesitated a moment before gently taking his hand on her own.

“Be careful” She muttered. “There’s only so much I can fix”

“I will” He promised. “Are they … are they treating you right ?”

She shrugged. “If threatening to kill me is what you consider right, then I guess I’m a real princess in a castle”

He ran a jerky hand through his hair and seemed to be looking for the right words to say but never spoke.

“Can I ask …” She began, curiosity getting the best out of her. “What is your real name ?”

When his gaze fell on her, all she saw was pure panic. Her question, as simple as it may have been, had surprised him. He didn’t remember, didn’t even question anyone, because it hadn’t mattered. He didn’t need to be more than a ghost to be able to kill.

“I’m sorry” She apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t know” He admitted.

She gulped and looked away. His eyes held too much confusion and despair. Coming face to face with the enormity that was this man’s fate was sometimes undeniably heartbreaking.

“Can I call you Winter, then ?” She suggested.

He seemed to ponder for a while before offering her a small smile. “Yes, yes I’d like that”

It hurt to see a glimpse of happiness on his face for something as simple as a name and the woman didn’t realize that what she had just given him was the shred of an identity. A tiny piece he would hold onto. He was living inside a nightmare he had no idea he was trapped into, and if she dared to help, she would pay it with her life. So all she had the power to do was give him a name. Make him feel alive again.

The next time she saw him was only a couple of days after, carried by two agents, head hanging low and barely conscious. His clothes were stained in blood and his metal arm seemed dislocated.

“Patch him up” One of the men coldly ordered. They dropped the injured soldier on the ground like he was nothing more than an object, not even human.

She rushed to his side, checking his pupils first with a flashlight to rule out any intracranial damage to his brain. She did the same on his chest with a stethoscope, searching for any potential life threatening injury. When she moved to his shoulder to inspect the metal bones, he regained consciousness. Maybe it was the sight of yet another scientist above him or the touch of her fingers on his skin, but the man was quick to react and got on his feet in no time. His human hand wrapped around her neck tightly and he pushed her body with force against a wall, choking her. She tried to speak, but the action had been so sudden and violent that she was unable to move a muscle. He was in a trance, eyes filled with hatred that she knew was not directed toward her. Whatever he was picturing in his mind had awakened the assassin. She was the threat and he was in a game of survival.

She whispered his name several times but it was only after a minute, when she was on the verge of passing out, that he seemed to realize what he was doing. He stared at her with wide open eyes and released her from his grip. Her body fell on the floor before she started coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m…” He tried to speak, looking down at his hands in horror.

“Water” She managed to whisper.

He brought the woman a bottle and tried to help her on her feet. When he reached for her, she involuntarily flinched. A pure reflex. She didn’t miss the sadness on his face as he recoiled from her.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s alright”

“I could’ve killed you” He said it more to himself than to her.

“But you didn’t” She laid a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm her heart rate. “What happened ?”

“You touched me,” He explained.

“I touch you all the time” When he smirked, she realized the double meaning behind what she had just said. “Hm … why would it be any different today ?” She immediately changed the subject.

“Usually, when I’m unconscious I can … sense them around me. Working on me. And I can’t move but I still feel the pain”

Once again she was at a loss of words against the heaviness that was the burden of his life.

“Are you sure you’re alright ?” He repeated almost in a childish voice.

“I’ll get over it, don’t worry” She tried to reassure him. It didn’t seem to work. He took a temptative step, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. He moved his hand toward her neck, deliberately going as slow as he could. His eyes stayed on hers, watching out for any sign of fear. “What are you doing ?” She said in a breath, a different kind of shiver rolling down her spine.

“I need to make sure I didn’t hurt you” The sincerity and concern she heard in his voice were unsettling. She stared back in disbelief, but didn’t move. This was the closest they had ever been and it almost felt unreal for both of them. Too good to be true, especially in a place of nightmare like this.

He tilted her head to the back, still looking at her, and softly brushed his thumb over her skin. A bruise was already starting to appear. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and sadness when he lowered his gaze. He kept inspecting her from all angles possible, making her chuckle in the process.

“Are you done, doctor ?” She joked.

He tried not to smile but miserably failed. “Almost. Haven’t found a diagnosis yet”

This time she laughed.

“C’mon, I’m not the real patient here. I need to take a look at you” She glanced at his metal arm, still dislocated. He was avoiding using it and she had noticed.

He sighed but didn’t remove his hand from her neck. Instead, his thumb slowly reached her cheek and he gently stroked her skin.

“I wish I could get you out of here” He whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this”

“Neither do you”

He clenched his jaw and plastered a tight smile, refusing to acknowledge what she had just said. He lowered his arm and sat on the examination table without saying anything.

“I’m gonna … hm … I’m gonna need to cut your shirt open” She gulped, trying to keep her cheeks from getting any warmer.

The man smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors nearby that he handed to her. She took it but didn’t dare to look at him, too uncomfortable by the situation. As she cut his shirt higher and higher, her hands started to shake. He could see her shifting her weight from side to side and desperately avoiding any eye contact. She was embarrassed and he was enjoying every second of it.

When finally she had taken it carefully off his body, she huffed in frustration. There was no denying that he had beyond toned muscle structure, verged into defined and well built curves.

“Is it… is it alright if I touch you ?” She allowed herself to take a glance at him, and rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face.

“More than alright, doc” He teased her.

The moment her hands came in contact with his skin, he involuntarily flexed his muscles. She took a sharp breath, trying not to lose focus when she cleaned his wounds. She looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, only to realize he was already staring. What should have been a quick glance turned into something more, a moment that lasted a little too long. When he leaned in toward her, she suddenly seemed to notice the lack of space between them. She cleared her throat and took a step back.

“Quit flirting, Winter” She reprimanded him with a playful grin.

He laughed. It was the first time she heard that sound and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He looked so carefree and alive, so human. She was finally meeting the man behind the assassin, and he troubled her even more than the silent killer.

“I kinda like to see you flustered, doc”

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

“Sure you don’t” He sniggered.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna need to put that shoulder into place”

Instead of talking, he grabbed her hips and considerably shortened the distance she had put between them. Her eyes widened from both the sudden gesture and the feeling of his fingers on her body.

“Go right ahead, doc”

She leaned in toward him to have a better access to the injury, ignoring the unexpected shudder. She was practically over him, a hand on his shoulder, the other on his broad back. If he felt any pain when she pushed the bones back into place, he didn’t show.

“All good ?” He muttered, heavily breathing. She was about to ask if he was okay but the words stayed stuck when she realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t hurt, no, he was perturbed by her presence. He could smell her perfume and see the hair raising on her neck. Whatever he was feeling, she felt it too.

“Do I make you nervous, soldier ?” She said, a smile building on her full lips.

“You have no idea, doctor”

She turned to face him. They locked eyes and, for a moment, none of them moved. The atmosphere instantly changed when he bit his lips. He bent closer and closer, and this time she didn’t push back. When finally he kissed her, she froze in place. He was about to draw back when she grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation she couldn’t comprehend took over her whole body. He didn’t rush, took his sweet time lingering his lips over hers. She could swore her knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding her in place. Her chest was fluttering and she lost all sense of time. He pulled back from the lack of oxygen, but not before caressing her mouth one last time.

“Too much?” He inquired quietly.

She shook her head, laughing. “No. Just enough”

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for a while” He admitted.

“Quite the change of attitude. I could’ve sworn you wanted me dead only ten minutes ago” She joked.

He pouted, not particularly happy she was reminding him of his previous outburst.

“You’re all set up, Winter” She announced after one last look over his chest. “No major damage”

“Have you checked my heart ?” He joked with a smirk. “I think it’s beating a little fast”

She coughed to try and hide her laugh.

“I’m afraid that’s not fixable” She started to write her report, ignoring his lingering gaze on her. Her brain was still fuzzy from the kiss they shared. “Unless I stay away, which would probably ease your … discomfort”

“Who said anything about discomfort ? That’s a kind of pain I’d rather enjoy”

She raised an eyebrow, not missing the way her own heart palpitated.

“Don’t play with fire, soldier”

He smirked. “Between us, I’m trying to delay the moment I’ll have to go through that door again”

This time she lost all joy and raised her head from what she was writing on her report to look at him.

“You’re strong enough to leave this place, you know”

“Leave where ?” He asked.

“Somewhere you’ll find who you really are”

“Does that somewhere include you ? ‘Cause you should know I won’t go without you”

She walked up to him and took his hands.

“Save yourself while you still can, Winter” She sadly replied.

“What about you ?”

“I’m just … collateral damage” She exhaled.

He gently pressed his forehead to hers.

“I promise I’ll come back for you after that last mission”

“I’ll hold you onto that”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips, making her forget once again where they were and what their reality was.

“I’ll take you to Greece” He whispered. “Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great ?”

“It’s a date” She grinned, making him laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll get out of here” He swore. “And I’ll take you dancing under the stars of Mykonos”

He didn’t know then that he would never have the occasion to keep that promise. They would have more moments, stolen from the chaos of this place, but nothing more. Weeks later, he would hear rumors about treason and compromising positions. He would understand too late they meant her. She was his weak point, and the Winter Soldier couldn’t have any weaknesses. She was disposable, he was an assassin with superpowers. All the recordings they had proved he no longer could be operational so long as she was still breathing.

“Buck, you alright ?” A voice suddenly spoke in the agonizing silence.

He turned around to his friend, brushing the tears he didn’t realize had started to fall. Standing in the empty room, he couldn’t move away from the dried patch of blood on the floor.

“Yeah, I just need a minute” He shook his head, trying to make the painful memories disappear.

The man behind him began to inspect the place, searching through scattered papers around a desk.

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N” He read.

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The simple sound of her name was enough to widen the open wound inside his chest. He sat on the examination table one last time, without her. Forgetting he wasn’t alone, he let himself wander into his most precious memories. He remembered the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin. Every detail engraved in his head forever.

“Did you know her ?” The person asked.

“Yeah”

The man stopped what he was doing and observed the former assassin for a solid minute. He looked heartbroken.

“Bad memories ?” He inquired.

“Not in this room” Bucky sadly smiled.

“What happened ?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve”

The Captain hesitated for a moment but didn’t push. He was aware his friend was still healing and whatever the place was, it was part of his pain.

“Is she dead ?” He only questioned.

He gulped and tilted his head backward to keep the tears at bay. “They took her away from me” His voice cracked when he spoke. He was not able to stop the violent sob that escaped his mouth. He wanted to say so much more but the lump in his throat was far too heavy.

“I was too late,” He whispered. “I promised I’d come back for her but I was … too …”

His shoulders started to shake as tears ran down his bloodshot eyes. Steve rapidly closed the distance between them and hugged his friend, letting him express his sadness. They stayed there until he was calm enough to take a deep breath.

“You ready ?” The Captain inquired.

The broken soldier silently nodded.

“Where to now ?” Steve asked him. “You’re free to go anywhere you'd like”

“Greece. I have a date in Greece”

Taglist below the cut

@partypoisonsblog - @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier fanfiction #tfatws #fatws

[interstellar-changkyun]

you’re jealous | monsta x ot7 reactions

maybe some smut ;)

shownu | son hyunwoo

shownu has been going on variety shows to promote the group’s latest comeback and the female hosts and guests always comment on his looks

it doesn’t bother you usually, you know he’s handsome and love when he gets all flustered from the attention, but you don’t like how the hosts feel up his arms and ogle him when he performs a part of the choreo

they continue to dote on him and jealousy crawls up your throat and takes over your body as you wait for shownu to come home

he comes home earlier than usual and you would be happy if the images of women touching up his arms weren’t flashing in your mind, clouding your vision

he greets you with a kiss to the cheek and your arms are crossed and you’re pouting, still quiet

only when he’s setting down his stuff does he ask what’s wrong giving you time to look away from his sweaty chiseled chest and focus on your anger

“i saw the show today.” a beat of silence

“oh? was it fun?” he was almost done now as he grew closer to you

“it would’ve been if those women weren’t touching you up...” shownu found it adorable when you were jealous so he couldn’t help but put his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest, resting his head on your shoulders. you could feel his muscles against you, was he not wearing a shirt any more? it didn’t matter you were angry

“i told them to stop but they cut that out of the show...” your anger subsided, of course he did. you turned in his arms then, properly looking him in the eyes for the first time today.

“good.”

“you’re cute when you’re jealous,” he kissed your nose and you blushed, for a second he thought he outta make you jealous more often but he couldn’t bare even trying to give anyone that kind of attention when he had you. “let me make it up to you,” he started kissing your lips then, his hands roaming down your body as the found your ass and lifted you up, instinctively your legs went around his waist

he was sweaty so u offered to shower with him to save water of course, he thanked you for that with his actions...

wonho | shin hoseok

wonho was performing WITH YOU and you couldn’t help but feel jealous as the beautiful female dancer moved in synch with him and his hands traced her body

you rarely got jealous, he did that enough for both of you, but you couldn’t help it when fans were saying how good they looked together and of course they didn’t know he was already taken

the tweets, instagram posts, even tiktoks of them together consumed you and you finally came to your breaking point when wonho came home from the music show

“enough hoseok i can’t take it any more!”

“what’s wrong?” he had never seen you so upset, a mix of frustration and sadness adorned your face

“you and your dancer, everywhere i look online i just see you two together and i know it’s not real but when everyone’s telling you they would be good together i-“

“baby they don’t know what’s real and what’s for the performance, at the end of the day i came home to you and love you, i don’t even have her number on my phone much less have her saved as my lock screen like i do you,” wonho grinned and you felt the anxiety leave your body slowly. he always knew how to calm me down and when he realized you weren’t as mad he opened his arms for a hug which you fell into with a small pout still on your face

“can i make it up to my baby?” you didn’t know what he had in mind and you certainly didn’t expect being handcuffed to your bed frame screaming his name as he ate you out until you came...three times

kihyun

kihyun wasn’t naturally flirty, just too kind to know he could be perceived as flirty so when a girl trips in front of him and he helps her up like the gentlemen he is she gets the wrong idea and starts flirting with him...in front of you

you let it go on as he obliviously responds to her intrusive questions, you were grateful she didn’t recognize him with his mask and beanie on but you still felt your possessiveness rearing it’s ugly head

“we need to get going honey,” you cut in, having had enough of this girl just when she’s about to ask YOUR boyfriend for his number and she stutters and apologizes, you just mutter an okay as you grab kihyun’s hand and walk away

kihyun laughs as he catches up to you

“aww someone got jealous.”

“not jealous just annoyed, how could you not tell she was flirting?” you frowned at him and he smirked, oh no he’s gonna tease the hell out of you now

“i can only tell when you flirt with me, but what if i was flirting with her? would you get mad? and if i fucked her?” he whispered the last part, since you were still very much in public.

“kihyun,” you groaned as his hold on your hand tightened. you knew where this was going, knew exactly what this tone in his voice would lead to. but honestly you didn’t care, not when you were just as territorial as him and wanted to feel like his in the most physical way.

“would you beg for me back?” kihyun, pulled you flush against him and whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but hold onto his shoulder for strength, he knew what he did to you.

“you know i would.”

“you look so pretty when you beg, maybe i’ll go get her number.” you were whining at this point, still very much in public, he drove you crazy.

“fuck me please kihyun.” and that’s all it took before you were rushing to the nearest bathroom like a bunch of horny teenagers, and kihyun was making you cry and scream his name.

minhyuk

being an mc on a music show meant he interacted with lots of idols and you always anticipated the influx of delusional fans assuming he’s dating any girl idol he has any interaction with but one day is different from the others

he’s doing his usual mc duties but this kpop idol is staring at him intensely, even as going as far as telling him he’s handsome

she’s much older but it doesn’t stop the influx of tweets and comments

minhyuk is handsome you know that, anyone with eyesight can see that so when he comes home you can’t help but be grumpy

you can’t be mad at him you know that but your feelings are your feelings

he knows as soon as he’s home what’s making you grumpy

“babe i can’t help it!”

“ i know it’s just-why are you so handsome??? cover your face or something argh” you’re not really angry at him and he knows that as he kisses your face until the pout drops from your lips and he kisses you

you’re still feeling annoyed so you make it a point to show minhyuk just how much he is yours as you are his, making him scream your name all night long

hyungwon

like kihyun he doesn’t realize people assume he’s flirting when he’s kind just because he’s handsome

you’re out with him in vacation in greece and hyungwon is helping these japanese tourists with directions because he overhears them being confused about the hotel names, they assume he’s flirting with them since they don’t see you standing, waiting for him under the shade of the store front

hyungwon politely declines their offer to join him back at their hotel and you unfortunately hear the entire conversation, not once did he mention you

you scoff and walk off as he walks back to you, his eyebrows raising in shock

“woah what’s wrong?” he catches up to you with ease, damn his long legs.

“why don’t you go ask your new friends since i don’t exist?” you glare at him and he smirks, the handsome fucker smirks

“jealous babe?”

“why would i be, not like i’m your girlfriend or anything.” you grumble and he laughs at how you’re the angriest he’s seen you in a while. the last time you were this angry it was at netizens for attacking him over some dumb thing.

“i didn’t tell them because they could have recognized me and that wouldn’t have been good for anyone,” that made a lot of sense, maybe you had reacted too strongly. you might just be angry about other people flirting with what’s yours more than anything.

“you’re hot when you’re angry though, maybe i should do that more often.” you stopped in your tracks and narrowed your eyes even more at him, you pulled him into the side alley, pushing him against the building side.

“you won’t.” you shut up with a kiss and he was smirking into your kiss, his hands roaming down your body and you had to pull away and remind yourself you were not in your hotel room. after that you both stumbled and practically ran back to your hotel.

jooheon

jooheon is pretty well known for his unabashed displays of aegyo and so when he goes on a variety show it’s not surprising he’s asked to do it

unfortunately this show is hosted by a female idol and her reaction sends netizens into delusional theories that the two are surely dating

you’re so upset by the rumors and allegations that you start to believe them so when jooheon sees you two days after the rumors started you’re crying at your place

he’s so worried he pulls you to him automatically and asks repeatedly what happened and what’s wrong, not even thinking for a second it could be related to the rumors

finally you manage to stop crying and get out, “it’s okay if you love her too if she makes you happier i’ll understand.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” jooheon is so dumbfounded by your statement he stops soothing you and this makes you go back to crying

“you and that kpop idol on the variety show it’s all over the internet.”

“you idiot i would never date much less love anyone other than you.” you just stop crying at look at him through your tears, which you furiously wipe away again and see the sincerity on his face.

“oh.”

“yes oh i can’t believe you even believed them.” jooheon scoffs and gets off the bed you were both sat on, and then out of nowhere he picks you up and takes you to the bathroom

“we’re taking a bath so my baby can feel better,” the relaxing bath turns to a little more when he can’t but show how much he missed you the past couple days and just how much he loves you more than anyone else

I.M | im changkyun

people expected changkyun to be the bad bitch in your relationship, he had sharp features, a deep voice, piercings, and an amazing body but everyone who knew you both knew you were the one who would slice a bitch

especially if a random girl is trying to dance on your man in the one nightclub everyone knows he’s taken in, this nightclub had cut some kind of nondisclosure deal with the idols and their companies but clearly this girl was new, however, that didn’t mean you would hold back

changkyun winced as she started to dance on him and backed away, but she was persistent as she turned around and tried again, he waved his hand in front of her, clearly disinterested

you didn’t want to step in but as you monitored the situation where you danced with jooheon you could tell changkyun was struggling to remain polite

but you didn’t have a reputation to maintain and you certainly weren’t as calm and collected as your boyfriend

in a couple seconds you were wedging yourself between her and your boyfriend

“i’d back away sweetie,” you painted on your best fake smile and changkyun let out a sigh of relief.

“who are you?” her voice and tone was unpleasant, it was all too unpleasant especially when you were trying your best not to break her

“i’m his girlfriend,”

“let’s let him pick,” she shoved you away and stepped closer to changkyun, and that’s when you know you’re about to end up at the police station...again

changkyun stops you by grabbing your waist and hauling you over his shoulder as you’re lunging for her hair

shownu appears out of nowhere and asks the girl to kindly fuck off in the way shownu just knows how to do

when you’re outside and the driver has pulled up to the club, changkyun sets you down, he looks partially amused but mostly concerned

he knows you hate it when other people flirt with him just like he has to stop himself from breaking the jaw of any guy who dances on you at the club

he pushes the hair out of your face and looks at you fondly, you just nod at him to let him know you’re okay, too lost in his eyes to find words at the moment

and then the driver is opening the door for you and you both shuffle into the very back row of the minivan

changkyun presses a kiss to your temple, and you lean into his side

“you’re so fucking sexy when you get like that, i know i shouldn’t encourage it but fuck,” changkyun whispers into your hair and you shiver as his deep voice sends chills through you, you let your hand travel from its place on his lap to where the leather of his pants is becoming strained

“don’t.” he hisses and you aren’t in the obedient mood as you look him straight in the eyes and continue your torture

you estimate you have about thirty mins to go to get home, the privacy screen between the driver and the back of the car won’t muffle all the sound of you both but you can at least remind changkyun who he belongs to

so when you’re done making him suffer in his leather pants, you unzip them and he’s hissing and grabbing your hand

“fuck babe,” you just smirk at him and then spit in your hand. changkyun groans and throws his head back against the headrest, soon enough you’re leaning down and taking him into your mouth and he’s whining your name in between strings of curses. you manage to finish him off before you even get home.

changkyun gets back at you and you’re sure the entire apartment complex knows his name now

#monsta x imagines #monsta x imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x smut #changkyun imagine #changkyun imagines #monsta x changkyun #changkyun smut #kihyun smut #monsta x kihyun #hyungwon imagine #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x wonho #wonho imagine #shownu imagine #shownu smut #jooheon x reader #jooheon imagine #monsta x minhyuk #minhyuk imagine #mx #changkyun #monsta x

[221bshrlocked]

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

Taglist (some aren't working):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @fan-of-encouragement @evelynseventyr

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal #yall don't understand how much I love this fucking character #he's literally the softest #and he deserves the world #ugh #anyway

[ktheist]

take my whole life too | m

muses. jeongguk x heir!reader

genre. chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

words. 5k

warnings. dad!jeongguk, house husband!jeongguk, simp!jeongguk, implied smut verging on actual smut, mentions of break up and arguments

x

you never gave much thought for jeon jeongguk - not for how he looks, not for how much he makes, not for how compatible you are together. nothing. so much for promising to stay together through health and sickness till death do you apart.

but that’s just the thing, you were willing to let go of your heart in exchange for the wealth of your family. which is inherently yours until the findings of your grandfather’s will appointing his administrators the task of safeguarding the billions of dollar estate against his unmarried granddaughter who to be fair, has always had her eyes on that bejeweled ring of his. it’s less about the diamond and more about what possessing - legally, of course - the ring could do. for one, nobody could challenge your legitimacy as the chairman of luxean. and boy, do your overbearing aunties like to nitpick every little thing you do at the board meeting just to put their sons and daughters in a better light.

so yeah, you would say sacrificing your non-existent possibility of falling in love would suffice. plus, jeongguk can go shopping for convertibles with a swipe of a card, fly from london to italy to greece and back to london within one night. heck, he can even have a steamy hot night with the locals and bring back a greek goddess of a mistress if he wanted to.

except for one problem: he wants to do all those things with you.

well, considering how he stripped down to just pants with the buckle undone and protrusion of well defined abs that leads to a tantalizing v-line beneath the contrasting black band of his calvin klein halfway to the bedroom of your suite after the ceremony, completely disregarding the fact you never spoke to him unless you were in the presence of other people - watching eyes - and the limited time you have to change into your second outfits, you figured he’d want more than just hot and steamy nights in paris and peaceful quiet mornings in athens in your sundress and off white spring hats.

he either hasn’t figured out that he’s just a tool for you to gain public opinion or he doesn’t particularly care as long as he’s getting some.

“you’re leaving?” the voice that asked the very obvious question bears a sort of despondency to it.

when you turn to face the man lying naked - and looking like a well sculpted greek god at that - in the bed, you curse yourself for forgetting the one simple thing that you promise yourself not to do: look at him in the eye. by god, you’ve never seen anyone -  any man - who could be so good at weakening your resolution and making you want to climb into bed and cuddle him like a puppy.

“didn’t soyeon tell you i have a meeting?” you manage to sound casual about it for the most part as you put on the earrings that lie abandoned on the vanity when jeongguk came in just before you were almost done with your make up and bent you over the vanity to fuck you once before carrying you to the bed and fuck you in your sensitive state.

“i know,” he mumbles.

and when only silence follows suit, you can’t help but let your hands rest on your hip as you raise your eyebrows, “but?”

it takes a moment of the man trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and leaving it with a sort of pinkish shine when he releases it, “can we have another go?”

“you’re hard?” this time, the surprise in your voice is unconcealable, “again?”

“i know - i’m sorry - it’s just... that dress looks really good on you,” he doesn’t even bother to hide his ogling.

so to answer the question of whether you fucked him that time at your suite when you were supposed to change, yes you did.

“sounds like a you kind of problem,” you wave with the hand that picked up your purse - all your essentials already there, “go out and have a look at athens before we fly for london tomorrow - oh and maybe grab some dinner for yourself.”

“when will you be back?” as much as you like to think you’re indifferent to your husband, you can’t help but think he looks endearing for shying away from your gaze and rubbing the back of his head hesitantly, “i thought maybe we could have dinner together.”

there’s a strain in his voice but you brush it off, shrugging, “what do you think meetings like this are held over? i am going for dinner,” you want to take that back as soon as it escaped your lips but instead, you turn around, “anyways, don’t wait up.”

that’s one habit that he seems to have - waiting for you until you climb into bed with him after long hours of frying your eyes in front of the laptop in the common area.

either way, you strut out of your suite, leaving your husband with a semi-hard cock, you didn’t miss the way it twitched at your blatant rejection just before you turned your back on him.

and so you go about your day, the meeting coming to a close flawlessly as with a signed contract and a meal worthy of the restaurant’s reputation. by the time you thought the approaching figure from the corner of your eyes is the waiter bringing your desserts, kim taehyung was in the middle of thanking you “for meeting me on such a short notice, on your honeymoon at that.”

“i should thank you for reaching out to my secretary when you heard i’d be here too,” you chuckle, hand pushing a stray hair to the back of your ear before your gaze travels up to meet the man’s, “my grandfather always says, there’s no security on this earth, only opportunity,” raising the wine glass mid air, you offer him a smile, “and god does not help anyone seize it unless they do so themselves.”

“the late chairman was a wise man,” he raises his own glass, only to freeze at an awkward angle when the waiter finally approaches you.

except it isn’t the waiter. 

it’s-

“___,” a voice fills your ears like velvet on skin, you already know who it belongs to before you even look up at the man whose out-of-character furrowed brows and pressed lips all but makes you want to shoot up from your seat and spout out explanations you don’t even owe him, “i thought i’d pick you up since it’s,” he checks his rolex - it was the first thing you bought him after assessing his lack of accessory after you’d both signed the contract, “half an hour till midnight and the polignotou isn’t going to wait for us.”

taehyung is the one to break the silence, “it seems i’ve taken up too much of your time.”

before you can even refute it, he’s already standing up and fixing his blazer before stepping to the side to properly face your husband. 

“congratulations of your marriage, mr. jeon,” then he turns to you, his smile just as excellent at yours when it comes to hiding your emotions and that could only mean that tonight is drawing to an end on a bad note thanks to your husband’s interruption, “mrs. jeon.”

and with a final words of ‘i’ll have my secretary send you the papers soon’, he’s gone like the wind.

“what are you doing here? i told you i had a meeting! not gallivanting with some greek men!” the words come out in a low hiss when he takes the abandoned seat across from you as you gaze around the vicinity in case there are other business acquaintances that happen to know you.

“i’m sorry -” he mumbles out, “i was walking down the streets and i saw you at the balcony of the restaurant and-” he stops short of his words, tongue darting out over his lower lip for the briefest moment.

“and?” you echo, brows arched.

“i got jealous of seeing you with another guy,” his voice is barely above whisper but you hear it loud and clear.

you’re almost sure that you’ve slipped but and let your eyes narrow at him like a puzzle that you can’t figure out but it’s gone in a heartbeat as you pick up your purse and clear your throat. possibly in search for the right words to say but perhaps also an admittance of your caught-off-guard situation.

either way you stand up, “let’s go, the street starts getting scarcer by 2 and i’d rather stay safe and walk with more people than less.”

x

you did end up walking.

it was a halfway walk but it’s still a walk, that was, until you saw jeongguk pulling on the material of his pants every two minutes. the lack of lights did well to hide it but even then, your eyes automatically pans towards the noticeable protrusion in between his legs. as if your body has completely adapted to his scent - that subtle but evident scent of masculinity, his gaze - the pure, unadulterated desire within the shadows in his eyes and his touch - the way his hand seems to inch lower down your ass before he traces back up to settle on the dip of your spine before it left you cold and unattended when he started to tug on his pants.

“jeongguk -ah, fuck,” you bite back the moan that spills over your lips, “you’re making too much noise.”

“yeah?” his voice bears a lull to it as he thrusts in and out of you in the way that makes your legs come together and your heart leap all the way to your throat as your hands grip onto the dampened cart jeongguk pushed you against in the closest alleyway you were walking towards before he bent you over, lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down.

not even a minute passed before you felt him inside you. and by god, did you feel filled to the brim. the sheen of sweat coating your skin is cold against the chilly night air, the sinful sounds echoing off the walls makes you pray for the first time in a long time that no one is nearby and the way jeongguk is hitting all your sweet spots has you gritting your teeth in hopes that it’d be one less sound to get you arrested for public indecency.

in a country that you’re not a citizen of, at that.

you’re not sure how you got back to your suite and how the hell did you switch into your night dress but you have an inkling that it has something to do with the man whose arm traps you against a hard, muscled body when you started shifting to wake.

his breath fans the back of your neck as he slurs his words but you can make out a ‘five more minutes’ after a grumble and a faint ‘chaeyoung’ at the end.

“no,” you’re not sure what or who you’re saying the words of rejection to, but you slam a fist into arm that’s holding you, “let me go! jeongguk! let me go!”

he finally does at the bloodcurdling scream that could wake up the whole city. but somehow security hasn’t come bursting through the door and the streets in front of your room hasn’t halted its hustling and bustling.

“wh-what happened?” jeongguk’s wide eyes scan the room for the one, solid minute before they rest on you but instead of settling with the deduction that your scream was caused by his own entrapment - possibly the unfamiliar name he blurted out - he crawls over to you, “are you okay?” hand on your cheek as he checks for something.

they return to your eyes when you slap it away though.

you’re not even sure why you’re seeing red but you attribute it to the fact that- “how did i get in this?”

he takes one look and blinks, “i changed you because you fell asleep in the cab and i carried-”

“why?” arms crossed over your chest, you speak over him.

“i... i thought you might be uncomfortable sleeping in that dress,” you can almost hear the screws in his brain turning in search for answers.

“stop, okay? don’t act like you’re some award-winning husband - you’re not, you were broke and was about to lose your only source of income when i came to you and asked if you wanted to not have to work a day in your life,” he must’ve not known that his eyebrows twitch at the words, “it’s always been about the money - i get it, so you can stop now. we don’t have to play house when no one’s around because this isn’t an actual marriage and we don’t even love each other.”

you expected the stars in his eyes to dim out, expected him to avert his gaze somewhere to the most random thing like the ugly vase next to the door or the phone on the nightstand or the window where the sound of kids laughing and vendors across the street obnoxiously greeting his neighboring competition.

but instead, he looks straight at you, “what is it then?” he asks, “what are we if those good night kisses, cuddling into each other in the middle of the night when we woke up briefly before falling back to sleep, holding hands while walking and making love every night-”

“i don’t know where you got that because i never kissed you, i never asked you to wait for me to go to sleep together and i never touched you first - they were all you,” your head dips to the side just the slightest bit, “and we had sex every night. that’s it - it’s just sex.”

the last thing you see before you climb off the bed and lock yourself in the bathroom, dialing up your secretary’s number to book a plane ticket for yourself, is what you’ve initially expected to see.

stars that don’t shine as bright as the morning they twinkle and greet for the first time of the day. brows that knit together but not because he’s anxious or nervous about telling you something.

when you stepped out, he’s gone and you don’t leave any notes. not even a text after you packed up your belongings, hailed a cab and went straight to the airport in your darkest shades and brightest dress.

and so it goes, not a single rumor about your early arrival in seoul and your lack of spouse with you. mainly because jeongguk and you have put up quite a show for those watching eyes. a love story worth spectating and an ending keenly awaited. but you’ve made it clear, during your about-to-hit one month honeymoon that you’re truly, deeply, madly in love with your chosen husband, so much so, that you’re willing to leave the chairman seat unguarded. 

it’s a gamble but it worked like magic. the board members welcome you back into the company without any inquiry even though you’re one week too early. mr. yoo even seems relieved to see you when you’re on your way to your office on your first day back.

“it’s nice to see you again, miss ____ -” he stops himself, “i mean, mrs. jeon.”

you shake your head, laughing, “miss ___ is fine for me, everyone’s known me as that for so long.”

when you reach the end of the hallway where you have to part to go to your office, and him to his, you tap him on the arm once with a hand that lacks a wedding ring but he doesn’t seem to care as he dips into a bow and bids you a good day.

and so it goes, you start burying yourself in your pending works while also juggling surprise visits from two of your aunts, to which each does not fail to not-so-discreetly give your left hand a once over. but you’re faster, having kept your ring in the drawer and pulling it out and slipping it on under the desk before standing up to greet the elder women both times without fail.

on the day jeongguk and you were supposed to return, you’ve debated on booking a hotel just because you don’t want to face him - soyeon briefed him about your sudden departure back to korea and that there was no reason for him to come back with you. and so he stayed. travelled to london and then to glasgow with a black card and unlimited possibilities - just liked you promised him on the day you signed the contract.

things might have gotten off track but coming back to the familiar scent of ocean from your candlewicks and the bonzai that belonged to your deceased grandfather in the corner of the room, you’ve found your purpose again - the reason you would go so far as to sacrifice your heart for this position.

you’re never going to lose sight of it ever again.

but when the door beeps once after you punched in the code, the smell of something delicious waft in the air after you stepped into your apartment and jeongguk greeting you with a pink apron with printed with hearts all over it, you feel yourself freezing in your spot.

“oh, you’re back?” his back is on you as he redirects his attention to the sizzling goodness in the hot pan, “i’m making fried noodles, it’ll be done it 10 minutes - why don’t you go and change first?”

it takes a moment of you staring at the black tresses of his head and the broad shoulders with a pink string hanging over the back of his neck before you actually take a step towards the stairs. once you’ve showered and dressed in your pajamas - you prefer those than the lingerie jeongguk has only ever seen you in - it takes another moment for you to stare at the golden strings layered with button mushrooms, beef slices and prawns and a fried egg over them.

“okay,” you shake your head, as if to shake away the trance that seems to come over you - jeongguk’s already looking at you with a curve on his lips, “what is this?”

“friend noodles,” he says simply.

“no,” another round of head-shaking passes, “i mean, what are you doing? i literally insulted you and called you a bum and a gold digger.”

he takes a minute to mull over the matter, bottom lip jutting out as if to say, “yeah, i kinda am.”

“you must also not realize that i only talk to you when we’re in public or when we’re having sex,” you point out, fork gripped tightly in your hand to which he gives a glance at before reaching to pull it out of your grasp and setting it on the napkin next to your plate.

“love making,” he reiterates but before you can even get a word out, he holds up a hand and tilts his head in a ‘wait’ kind of manner, “and a relationship is 50-50, you work and i cook and clean.”

your eyes narrow at him for the longest moment before you pick up the fork again, this time dipping it into the strands of gold and twirling it before directing it to yout mouth. an appreciative moan leaves you as the spice and sweetness spread over you like a whole new experience.

“good right?” jeongguk mimics your action, digging in and smiling proudly with the first bite.

it’s only when you’re done and loaded the dirty dishes into the washer, as you watch him take off the apron with his back on you whilst you lean against the edge of the counter, do you finally ask, “who’s chaeyoung?”

the way he freezes up with hands middair, in the middle of hanging the strap over the hook - isn’t the least bit surprising.

“wh-who?” the hesitant way he looks at you and then to his feet and then to the sink with a hand rubbing the back of his neck - is familiar. welcomed even but you don’t show.

“you tell me,” you shrug, “must’ve been someone important - someone who you’re used to having wake you up.” you let the silence hang in the air for several heartbeats, watching as his adam’s apple bob whilst his wide-eyed gaze shifts from the sink to the block of knives to the stool before they rest on you.

“maybe a girlfriend you left behind in exchange for money - the money i offered you,” and with that, you watch as his gaze shakes and his pink move but no words come out.

it’s only a long moment later, that he finally manages to find them, “i... i haven’t seen chaeyoung ever since we got married.”

“well, congratulations!” you bring your hands together in a crisp applause, lips curving into one of your schooled smiles, “soyeon contacted her and guess what she said? she said you told her you were going to the city to find a job and didn’t want her to wait on you which was why you broke up but poor little chaeyoung is still waiting for you on the country side - you can go see her and your parents.”

and with that, you turn your back on him for the first time since you left him to an empty suite and a cold bed. 

“why are you so...” but just as thought you could walk out of this like a winner, jeon jeongguk somehow manages to pull you several steps back with just words and eyes that bears more emotions than you can handle, “mean?”

“you’re always smiling and laughing with your secretary like you’re best friends, you always look sad when you talk about your grandfather and you always kiss your parents on the cheek every time you meet them... why-” he stops short when he meets your gaze - you’re not sure what he sees that makes him look like he’s been punched in the face with a wild ball. 

“i’ve always been mean,” you feel your eyebrows rising before you blink once, “you just had your head in the clouds, dreaming about how you can make a girl with a rotten attitude change and maybe fall in love with you along the way - well guess what? i’m not her,” and just like that night in athens, something in the way he stands, stiff like a rock and eyes darkened with a sort of desire, your eyes travel down to his pants where a painfully obvious erection protrudes against the fabric of his pants, “...and you like it.”

“no, i - this - it’s...” he fumbles on his words as he clasps his hands over his crotch, but the way his eyes seem to find solace at the sight of your cleavage screams desperation and agony.

“___... you don’t have- fuck,” the first moan falls out of his mouth when yours wrap around him. 

“only because i can’t have a proper conversation when all you’re concerned about is how to take my blouse off from all the way across the room,” you say after a delicious ‘pop!’ when your cheeks hollow out just before you pull away.

it takes only a few more pumps before he’s begging you to “wait- please - i want you.”

it’s the ‘please’ that gets you.

“fine but don’t come inside,” you relent, hands fiddling with the zipper of your skirt before jeongguk’s polite ‘let me’ as he bends you over the counter, chilly air kissing your skin as a tear echo against the wall and you wonder if you’re free in the weekend to go shopping for-

“oh my god,” the moan slips out of your mouth in a pleasured surprise - you didn’t expect him to get your pantyhose, panties and skirt out of the way that fast.

thought with the barely noticeable discomfort of your panties digging into your hips, you figure he opted for keeping them pushed to the side instead of getting rid of them completely.

they do come off anyway, left in the trail of clothes strewn along the way to the stairs where jeongguk decides to have you bend over because “it’s a perfect place for a doggy,” and you concur as you moan and whine while he fucks you like he owns you. hand keeping your hair in a lock whilst he holds your upper body up whenever you’re about to lose yourself and bury your face in the steps. 

but you do manage to get to the bedroom, just not the bed. you made a mess on the carpet - it’s going to stain an ugly shade of sex and lust but soyeon will probably not even bat an eye once you ask her to schedule an appointment with an interior designer. might as well give your room a make over.

so it goes, jeongguk likes to call your eye rolls and offers to lend him a driver to drive him to his hometown to meet the love of his life - cute. alternatively, jealousy. which you simply roll your eyes at, again.

at times, he comes over to your office - mainly to take you out for lunch but ends up fucking you over your mahogany table. and later in the car on the side of the road where an officer came knocking on the fully tinted window - you had at least 60 seconds to button up your shirts and pull down your skirt while jeongguk zips up his pants with a whine before you roll your window down.

how the rest goes, you rather not say.

but you’ve sworn against car sex - at least in daylight and in an open space.

so when you end up walking past a mirror in your room, just as you’ve donned an off white blouse and a grey pencil skirt, you find yourself freezing in shock. hands coming to cup your stomach, you squint at the woman who’s squiting back at your belly.

“honey, breakfast is ready,” jeongguk pokes his head into the room, the infamous pink apron tied around his front and a pair of light orang oven mitts on his hands.

“do you think I gained weight?” you quiz, knowing full well that he’ll spout a heartwarming but blatant lie about-

“no, i think you’re a healthy weight,” a man that looks like him comes to hug the woman in the mirror, kissing her head before glancing at his reflection once and turning back to it, squinting his eyes at the part where your hands are.

“uh,” he hesitantly starts, “how much chipotle did you have last night?”

“not enough that’s for sure,” you turn to him with an incredulous look, “i went to bed hungry,” a light smack lands on his chest - to which he doesn’t even bat an eye, “cause you keep stealing my food!”

“maybe we should book an appointment,” he suggests, voice smooth but the glint in his eyes and the suppressed smile on his face gives away his exitement.

“no, i can’t be pregnant,” you shake your head, walking over to the vanity to pick up your purse and keys, “it’s not the right time.”

“but what if you are?” you hear the hurt in jeongguk’s voice but your interest overrides your emotiones.

“i just can’t be,” and with that, you place a kiss on his lips, “i’m sorry, baby.”

and with that, you left for the kitchen when jeongguk still tried to reason with you. he tried again for the next few days until you set your food down and told him a baby is never going to be in the picture.

but two months down, you barely fit your clothes and jeongguk has been kissing you good morning before bending down and pressing his ear to your belly, “and good morning to you, my little blueberry.”

and he’s been kissing you good night before pecking your stomach and wishing the life form growing inside you a ‘come out fast so mommy and daddy can meet you, okay?’

“good news and bad news,” soyeon said exactly one month ago after you’d fainted in a middle of a meeting and woke up in a hospital room, “you can’t be pregnant but you are and you’re gonna need an heir soon anyway so...”

“it’s bigger than a blueberry now,” you point out  - jeongguk’s been calling your child a blueberry ever since he rushed to the hospital after getting a call that his wife fainted and once he was there, got flashed with a sonogram the size of- “the doctor said it’s as big as a blueberry, not chipotle,” you’d been indifferent, mainly because a child wasn’t in your plan and you’d been taking birth control since way before you got married.

but jeongguk had been overjoyed. taking care of you everywhere you go, he didn’t even let you drive and instead searched up for drivers with a long list of the lowest rates of accidents in their records. he gets into the shower with you because he “can’t wait to have a family shower together” and packages of baby clothes have been pouring in with matching shirts and ‘mom’, ‘dad’ and ‘baby’ printed on each one and he shows them to you after you got back from work.

his love for your child had made you fall in love with being a mother. with having a family of your own - the two notions you never thought you could wrap your head around as you made your vows to each other two years ago. 

and it’s somewhere down the line, as you watch jeongguk rock your baby in his arm as she sleeps soundly amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, jeongguk’s voice like a lullaby as he murmurs ‘you’re so beautiful, you have mommy nose, and my lips, thank you for being born,’ and when he twirls around, probably feeling the heat of someone’s stare from all the way on the bed, he looks at you with that lost, wide-eyed wonder before his lips curl into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents.

-it’s then, do you realize that jeongguk has become the person you smile and laugh with, the person you greet with a kiss and the person your heart beats for.

he’s your husband, lover, soulmate.

x

note. i have another preview with the same title and characters but from a historical era which i haven’t managed to finish but if you see a marquis!jk and x heir!reader then yk hehe. also if you like arranged marriage au’s do check my masterlist! i have a lot of them apparently (i just realized while writing this fic lol)

i’ve been super stressed and feel like i haven’t actually been doing anything i really like in the weekend so i sat down and decided to finish this draft idea once and for all! 

first off, oc is a douche bag who cares about herself a lot but it’s written in her pov which i hope portrays a justification (which isn’t necessarily okay) to the things she do. but in other people’s story, she’s that woman who stole a person’s man, or she’s that hard ass boss that nobody really likes but pays good, or that graunddaughter that seems to think about her grandfather’s money only. but no one is easily good or bad, it’s more than that just like oc. and i hope to send at least that message through this story. not one can be just ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

in my opinion, there’s no development in her character bc of the word count and the fact that i didn’t plan for it to be long enough to include a development. i just wanted to write about an asshole who has feelings and can be nice to certain people. she’s probably still an asshole but her feelings for jeongguk changed and so is her treatment towards him (as per foreshadowed) and he became one of the people she loves - and i say probably because we’ll probably never know for sure and it’s also not up to my interpretation alone. you, the readers, may think she has or may think she hasn’t - either way, this is just a story about someone who you might know, maybe someone who you’d dupe as selfish. either way, i hope yall enjoyed it!

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