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writer-monster · 3 years

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11 reasons why cap 4 should reintroduce Bucky Barnes as the love interest, an essay

to start this off, i am not writing this essay from a shipping place nor do i believe that this would have any influence at all over the upcoming movie. i expect nothing. this is simply something that i would personally like to see. (of course no hate to anybody who thinks differently)

here are 11 reasons why i think making Bucky into Sam Wilson's love interest in Cap 4 would be a good move for Disney.

1. on the Chinese film market - and why it's an irrelevant argument against the inclusion of homosexual themes in Cap 4

the Chinese film market is something that has been blamed for a lack of diversity in Hollywood films a lot lately. many people claim that this market with a lot of buying power has been responsible for the lack of gay and black representation in particular within Hollywood films.

and we have certainly seen Hollywood treating it as such, going so far as to cut gay scenes from movies for their Chinese releases, and vastly minimising John Boyega's (a black actor's) presence in the Chinese poster of Star Wars The Force Awakens.

[image ID: on the left is an image of the American poster for Star Wars The Force Awakens, featuring John Boyega prominently on the right-hand side. And on the right is the Chinese poster for the same movie, in which John Boyega is barely visible.]

so we know at the very least that Disney believes this through their own actions and efforts to self-censor for the different markets.

but Captain America 4 is a black-led movie, don't you forget. and Disney can't minimise Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie in the movie or the poster because it's his movie and his poster. and no amount of creativity in the editing room can change that (thank God!).

so if by their own argument the film is already going to be either banned, panned or slammed in China... then what do they have to fear from making it a gay movie too?

2. oh, the queerbaiting

queerbaiting is an unusual cultural idea. and sometimes i find myself thinking that the term is far too easily used, but then all of a sudden i will stumble upon a movie or show that is so quintessentially cruel and overt in it's... well... queerbaiting that i will start to wonder what the hell kind of a bizarre relationship all these straight people seem to have with their friends. take Troy and Abed from Community or John and Sherlock from Sherlock as the perfect examples of this. (in which my reaction to the show's creators saying the show wasn't gay was to ask so then why did you make it so gay?!)

i felt that Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes in tfatws were getting quite close to this level of queerbaiting.

there was the field scene, the couple's counselling scene, the boat scene, the couple's counselling scene, Bucky going with Sam to face Karli when she told Sam to come alone, the couple's counselling scene, ALL the staring scenes, Sam checking out Bucky's ass here as they said goodbye, the "i would move in with him but" hidden scene, "Uncle Bucky" showing up at the cookout scene, the romantic walking off together into the sunset together ending scene, and the couple's counselling scene. did i forget anything? but i mean seriously, the couple's counselling scene!!! that thing they did with their legs and their crotches while staring deep into each other's eyes, would any straight guy willingly do that? do straight guys crotch-snuggle now?

[image ID: an image of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes during the therapy scene with the quote, "Isn't anybody going to drag me into impromptu couple's therapy and slot my legs firmly between theirs before staring deeply into my eyes?"]

(yeah i stole this image from a buzzfeed article on the fan reactions to the couple's therapy scene. but given that they stole 80% of the content of that article from fandom tumblr, i think it's pretty even-steven.)

there's also the fact that people started talking about bisexual Bucky Barnes a lot after the tiger pictures line, and the lead writer Malcom Spellman responded to the talk of Bucky's bisexuality with "just keep watching". well we watched, Malcolm. but it's beginning to feel like you were just jerking us around.

3. the writing

seriously though, what else is Bucky Barnes doing right now in the MCU? his only remaining connection to anything going on right now is through Sam. there is literally nothing else established that's left for him to do that doesn't involve Sam. he moved to Louisiana to be closer to Sam (canonically), he hangs out with Sam's family (canonically), and Steve is presumably gone and is definitely not coming back for more adventures.

he has no villains or loose ends left. he has no other superheroes that he appears to be in contact with. he has no girlfriend or potential love interest, or even other friends or family. he is living in a tent that he has secretly set up in Sam's backyard and is mysteriously appearing from the bushes when it's time for dinner like a stray cat.

in my opinion there is no other meaningful and pre-established progression for Bucky's character that wouldn't just feel cheap.

plus, i don't think the general audience would be all that surprised if they kissed. i think a LOT of people picked up on all that tension. i think a lot of straight people picked up on all that tension too.

4. the chemistry between the actors & the chemistry between the characters

the original pitch for tfatws was essentially just this, it was the chemistry between Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie and their respective MCU characters of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

now obviously Anthony and Sebastian are simply friends, and i wouldn't mean to imply anything more. but they are also not their characters.

Sam and Bucky's scenes together before tfatws were both limited and short, and yet audiences still fell in love with the dynamic between the two characters.

in interviews, these two actors are constantly slipping into character and flirting with each other and frankly it's adorable. plus it's really entertaining. i'd love to see that dynamic, unfiltered, in a movie.

because believe it or not the flirting is actually even more open in their interviews than it was in tfatws. and i'm leaving some links as proof.

this here is known as the "married" compilation

and here's a "lucky dip" selection of interviews - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

and here's Anthony trying to get Seb to take his jacket off.

i'm just saying, why not let their chemistry shine? these two are so talented and so entertaining, especially when you put them in a room together. and can you imagine how absolutely hilarious and brilliant it would be to watch them navigate being a couple?

(and for those who bring up the "friends would be uncomfortable pretending to be dating" argument, i'm not here asking for a sex scene or anything. i don't think anyone would expect them to show any more intimacy (physical or emotional) while playing a couple than what they've already shown together in say... tfatws or in their own interviews. not that i actually expect anything regardless.)

5. if they were a man and a woman they would've gotten together in tfatws

i have no more to add here. just that... yeah, they would've.

6. and i'm not talking about the comics here, i'm talking about the MCU.

i understand fully that none of what i'm saying here falls in line with these characters from the comics. but the mcu itself doesn't fall much in line with the comics either, and these two characters especially are very different from their comics counterparts.

i'm not asking for these two to get together in the comics. tbh i don't think that it would work.

but the mcu Sam and Bucky are different and closer than their comics counterparts. they've got different histories, different backstories, and a very different dynamic. please rest assured that i am only talking about them in the mcu.

7. Bucky Barnes is believably bisexual. and Sam Wilson has never been proven to be straight in the mcu, nor has he had a love interest.

(now please continue to keep in mind that these points only stand for the mcu versions of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson, and not at all for their comics counterparts.)

Sam Wilson has never had a love interest, which is crazy because have you seen that man! he has had two blink and you'll miss it moments of verbal expression of attraction to women, both in TWS. and that's the extent of it, through his entire history in the mcu.

Bucky Barnes has had a number of surface-level female love interests, but none of them even came close to the level of connection and chemistry that Bucky shares with Sam.

and i'm sorry SarahBucky fans, but i just don't think there's very much to their relationship either. i love Sarah, i really do. but it's Sam who shares all the meaningful moments and history and chemistry with Bucky. and i don't see what making her into a love interest would do for Sarah's character either, what would that add to her story?

[Picture ID: Bucky at the cookout with Sam, Sarah, Cass and AJ. Bucky and Sam are looking at each other and smiling.]

and also there is the whole tiger pictures thing... again. which does strongly suggest that Bucky is bisexual whether this was intentional on behalf of the writers or not.

8. it's representation... AND it feels natural

marvel hasn't had a lot of queer representation that's been noticeably present in the MCU at the time of writing this.

there have been a lot of failures so far, from the bisexual erasure of Valkyrie in Thor Ragnarok to the wlw erasure in Black Panther.

there was queerbaiting almost identical to the bisexual Bucky baiting for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2. when asked if he had considered featuring a gay hero in gotg2, director James Gunn stated that "We might have already done that. I say, watch the movie." after the movie's release audiences were understandably confused about the lack of queer representation. To which the director followed up his comments with, "But we don't really know who's gay and who's not. It could be any of them."

there is also Loki, considered by most fans after the airing of his six episode series on Disney+ to be both a poor attempt at both genderfluid representation and bisexual representation. with both attempts being summed up fairly well by the term "blink-and-you'll-miss-it". (also it's just terribly written and Loki doesn't wear any interesting clothes! fanficcers are a Goddamn blessing in this hard time!)

and let us not forget that Andrew Garfield was apparently FIRED for pushing for a bisexual spiderman. a bisexual spiderman within an interracial mlm relationship no less.

so for all these failures, marvel, why not allow us queer fans this? two brilliant and heroic men in a loving interracial relationship. two heroes that we can look up to.

now, one of the biggest detractions from the argument for representation is the idea of "forced diversity". and some poorly written characters certainly do end up feeling forced into the narrative. take Iceman in the comics for example, with Jean Grey just straight up suddenly telling him he's gay. like, marvel, sweetie, that's not how this works! and i don't know a lot of queer people who thought much of that "representation".

but the crux of the "forced diversity" argument is almost always that it feels unnatural within the story, right? and i don't think that anyone could say that about MCU Sam and Bucky ending up together, given these characters' existing chemistry and their history. they've both played characters in gay relationships before so we know that it's not outside of either actor's wheelhouse. and y'all know that Anthony and Seb can act, people. if it's in the script i believe that they'll make it seem like the most natural thing on earth.

9. it'd be a nice change

there's been an ongoing meme lately about "Disney's first gay character", the joke being that they continually announce gay characters without really ever including gay characters in their films.

this is to the point where Disney has formed a reputation amongst queer audiences of being homophobic.

if Sam and Bucky were to become a couple, then Disney could have its first actual gay character within a gay relationship. AND have him be in the lead of his own movie, no less.

it's also worth keeping in mind that there's likely an overlap between the people who were outraged by a Sam Wilson Captain America, and the people who'd be outraged by a gay Captain America. and if they were already not seeing the film, then i don't think much is gonna change that.

queer audiences would definitely love it, and the media attention would be guaranteed to be huge. i mean, simply look at the amount of media attention mere rumours of a character's queerness gets you and multiply that by a canon confirmation of said rumours.

but i'm pretty sure that Disney already knows this.

10. and yet, in truth, it's not about the representation

in truth i've never felt that i had any trouble relating to characters of any sexual orientation, race, gender, sex, body type, etc. (although that is not to throw any shade at all on people who do wish to see themselves represented) but for me, i think it's more about the story than the packaging.

and yet, a love story is still just a story. straight or queer, monoethnic or interracial. when two characters have chemistry and history and have sacrificed for each other time and time again, and they also can't keep their hands or their eyes off each other, then i'm pretty sure that that's a love story.

straight or queer, monoethnic or interracial, it shouldn't be about these simple labels. it should be about how well written the relationship is. it should be about chemistry, and history, and sacrifice.

because i'm fucking sick of all the hollow, forced romances in media no matter the genders of the participants. i'm sick of lazily written, shallow relationships where any two people sharing the same space for any extended period of time will simply fall in love. it's boring, it's repetitive, and as a writer myself it drives me up the wall!

romance stories suck! and everyone knows that romance stories suck. between twilight, and most of the entire YA genre, and love triangles (so boring), and romance used as poorly-written throwaway subplots in Hollywood movies, the world is in agreement that the romance in western media is simply dreadful. and yet we still want love stories. it's an entire genre that sits at the heart of the human experience (<3), and yet one which so few of today's best known writers seem truly able to capture.

i don't think that i'm the only one who feels this way, either. i suspect it's actually a large part of why fandom is so romance-centred in the first place, that we're all just starving for a good love story.

(btw i think fandom has a reputation for being something that as a whole that it is not. it has this reputation for straight up demanding things and harassing people until they get their way. while unfortunately there are a few people who do this, they're fucking annoying and i swear that they're far from the majority.

in my experience fandom is mostly about writing a five thousand word story at three am while drunk off your ass because it might make someone whom you've never met smile, editing it in the cold light of day, and then posting it. expecting nothing. sometimes getting nothing. and sometimes getting someone send you kudos or a comment so heartbreakingly wonderful that it makes you smile in return.)

11. so once again, it is all about the writing.

i want to see Sam and Bucky get together in the mcu, not because they would be a gay couple but because i genuinely believe that their story has potential to be an amazing love story.

and i know the mcu isn't about the romance. it's why in my personal opinion we haven't gotten a lot of good canon romances besides Peter Quill and Gamora. and i don't think that the mcu should be all about the romance either. i fucking love the action and the fighting scenes. i love the comedy. Captain America: The Winter Soldier had no romance and it was a fucking treasure, it was an amazing spy-action-thriller and it made my little gay heart dance. Thor Ragnarok had no romance, and it was an utterly brilliant comedic spectacle action film. not every movie needs romance.

but mcu Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were doing couple's therapy and fixing a boat and walking off into the sunset together in tfatws. they were inseparable on the battlefield. they've got a dynamic. it's beautiful, it's romantic, and it's gold.

a budding relationship between them in the next movie would be a good way to explore both characters more without the narrative feeling too stilted and separate. at the end of tfatws, both Sam and Bucky fans found that their respective fave felt somewhat underutilised and that their characters were underexplored.

now, that problem would be even more difficult to remedy in a movie, because the plotline of a movie needs to be really tight to work (giggity). and we know that the central conflict of the movie is gonna be action-based (which is good), but we still need each character's personal journey and growth to tie into the main conflict. (which is another issue that some fans found with tfatws, that these characters didn't really feel connected to the action-based plot on a more personal level.)

if Sam and Bucky are already in a relationship, however, this whole dynamic changes. first, their relationship has already been set up for nicely since TWS and through tfatws and they would officially be the best-fleshed-out couple in the mcu. but most importantly, a relationship gives them a perfect vehicle to explore both of their pasts comparatively and connect them personally to the action-based plot.

do you want to establish that Sam is a little too trusting and naïve? then establish this through his relationship with Bucky, and through showing his placing his trust in Bucky. (rather than through having him sympathise with a villain who threatened to murder his sister and his nephews).

perhaps you want to show Bucky recovering from his trauma? show us how comfortable he is with Sam. they get along, they're enjoying each other's presence, we see more of Sam's life and of his family, and then let Bucky tell Sam something that's raw and dark and honest about his life as The Winter Soldier. something about a memory, one that he only just recalled. he's opening up. and maybe what he tells Sam is even something that sets up the future action-based conflict, to ground that in something real.

you want to explore that Sam has trauma too? do this through Bucky. he tells Bucky a story about his time in the military. in the form of a flashback, he shares his own story of loss to evoke before the audience the shared theme of feeling at fault even when you're simply a helpless bystander to an act of pure destruction.

then, action sequence! and it's directly connected to Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier. explore the grief of someone whose life the Winter Soldier tore apart manifesting into a villain perpetuating the cycle of pain. establish your villain.

Later, Sam is dragged into battle against this villain for protecting Bucky. But Bucky doesn't want Sam to protect him. He feels guilt for what he can't control and he doesn't want Sam getting hurt because of him. Bucky reminds Sam that he has a family, one who needs him and who loves him. He tells him to go home.

Sam reminds Bucky that he's a part of that family. And that sure Sam's a hero and his job is to protect anyone and everyone, but that he's doing it because he wants to. It's not simply to prove that he can, or to prove that he's not a bystander (this connects to Sam's trauma here), but that he's doing it to help people.

and this gets Bucky thinking about who he is and what he's doing here. is he a hero who stands by Sam's side? or is he an ordinary man who stands aside? or perhaps, does he stand alone? what does he stand for? Maybe Sam knows. But does Bucky?

Sam and Bucky fight off the villain again, and for the first time Bucky meets this adversary face to face. And Bucky recognises this villain, and has a flashback to the genuine pain that he inflicted upon them in the form of the Winter Soldier. Bucky freezes mid-fight, he almost dies, and Sam has to save him.

Sam chews Bucky out for almost getting killed because he was afraid for him. but Bucky takes this the wrong way and goes off to fight the villain alone, or perhaps to die alone, he's not quite sure.

He puts up a half-hearted fight. He apologises for what the Winter Soldier has done, and he waits for the killing blow, when Sam swoops down and he saves him. He asks Sam why he saved him and Sam calls him a moron. And then, Sam asks him what sacrificing himself would solve. He tells him that you can't choose your past but you can choose your future (connecting to his own experience of loss and guilt and grief). And that no matter what Bucky Barnes still has a future, whether that's as the Winter Soldier or the White Wolf or just some dork with a day job. And that he has a future as a part of Sam's family too.

Sam fights the villain, and it's toe to toe. He delivers a few good blows, but receives a fair few himself. And then the villain tears off his wings, first one and then the other, in a manner reminiscent of what the Winter Soldier did to him in TWS. Through Bucky's eyes there's a flashback to highlight the parallels. Sam gets back on his feet and he fights his best fight, but is now losing.

And then the heavily injured Bucky steps up and fights by Sam's side, and only together do they take down the villain.

"So... I inspired you, huh?" Sam teases with a smile, utterly exhausted. "With my heroism and-"

"You inspired me." Bucky said, equally exhausted. "Let's leave it at that."

Together, Sam and Bucky go back to the safety and warmth of their family. Sam fixes his wings. Sam goes back to being Captain America. And Bucky... he's around, but it's unclear what he's doing.

That is, until the very end. When Sam is in a fight, and suddenly Bucky shows up and helps him out.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks.

"I've made up my mind." Bucky says. "I'm the Winter Soldier. But now I'll save lives, Sam. Now, like you, I'll be a hero."

Sam smirks. "So does this make you my sidekick, then?"

Bucky smiles. "C'mon, at least make me a partner." He says.

"How about co-workers." Sam says (in flashback, he remembers back to the death of his last on-the-job partner).

"How about friends." Bucky says, with a wry look.

"Bucky... I don't want to see you put your dumbass self in danger." Sam says.

"Oh, and it's ok for you to go running off into danger on your own all the time?" Bucky asks.

"Yes." Sam says stubbornly. "Absolutely it is."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a dumbass?!"

"Sam, if you think I'm not gonna be watching your back for the rest of time... then you're the biggest dumbass I know. And I don't care if you need me or not, I will be there for you."

"Because Sam, you're more than Captain America. You're more than a good soldier. You're a good man. And I think sometimes, the world forgets what the difference is."

...or something like that.

(i only spent like 15 minutes on that. you know if i were actually writing this movie i would come up with something much better. and if anyone from marvel is seeing this, yes i can come work for you. i will make the time, let's do this thing right!)

finale

at the end of the day, whether or not the mcu chooses to make Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes a couple, it's their decision. and they don't owe me anything.

i'm just some random person on the internet. who thinks that Captain America 4 should #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend

#givecaptainamericaaboyfriend #meta #analysis #captain america 4 #caatws #fatws #tfatws #captain america #cap 4 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #marvel #mcu #mcu phase 4

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

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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.”

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@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

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thejustmaiden · 3 years

Text

So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉

Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha

I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.

For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!

Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.

[Snippet 1]

I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.

[Snippet 2]

Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.

[Snippet 3]

LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?

That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢

After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]

Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!

It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷‍♀️

I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.

You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.

This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.

So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!

Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!

We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!

Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.

I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.

At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.

Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞

#anti yashahime #anti sessrin #sesshomaru is rin's dad #papamaru #hogosha 💖#the sequel may not be canon but sunrise can still burn in hell

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worldsover · 3 years

Text

No More Drowning ft. Olivia Hye

length ✦ 7138

genres ✧ drunk hookup; outercourse; roommate!Olivia

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Perspiration deluges your white Taekwondo uniform. You make it fit loose so that it doesn’t stick to your skin. A refreshing breeze now annoys you as it whistles through your damn window that never sealed completely shut. At least you didn't need to turn on a fan today.

“Hey Captain,” you greet the commander of none. Hyejoo lies on a small blue couch, the only pristine spot in the living room. Her outfit suggests that there would be the usual cool air expected of the season but the fall is humid and stuck in the climate of a couple months past. It’s incredible that there is not a bead of sweat formed on her face. You study her and somehow she’s handsome in your eyes which is probably not a word others would use to describe the stunning woman reclining with her feet up.

“Wassup,” she says.

“You gonna-”

“Clean up? Yeah, yeah, lemme finish this round.”

Her face is welded to her screen though her eyes dart around maybe holding a hint of remorse at the clothes that litter the cramped living space and the dishes in the sink.

“I’m not an impostor! Ahhh!” Hyejoo shouts into the screen. Certainly none of her actions follow through on that guilt.

“How'd this even happen? You got pyjamas on the floor, shirts on the chairs. You a camgirl or something?"

"I'm a camgirl? I can see your tits dude.” Cover your pectoral cleavage in faux shame. ”Yo, I swear I just saw green-"

"And all these energy drinks? Come on Hyejoo, no way your heart lasts more than a year.”

“Wow, meanie.”

You look at your watch. “It’s like 9:40.”

“Shit, right, the marketing test.” Hyejoo’s fingers show no pretense that she’ll stop playing. She definitely didn't see your disapproving face. “Oh relax, I still got time,” she says anyway.

Finally, she looks up at you and her brows crease. “What?” you ask.

"You look good today."

Your heart floats just a little. You always appreciate the little compliments she gives. They were just ones that friends, good friends, would say but you’ll take anything to keep you going. Well, it’s enough to get you to clean up for her again.

“It’s gonna be a long shower by the way.” She giggles and you step over empty cans and bottles when you walk to the bathroom.

“No prob, I’m heading out soon,” Hyejoo says.

“Sure you are.”

Her exaggerated yawn seems not so exaggerated by how she stretches her entire being before putting her phone away.

“Oh, soon means now. How long’s it going to take?” you say.

She shrugs her shoulders. “One, two? I dunno.”

In a rush to get all her supplies in her bag, a series of metallic clangs sound out when finished beverages fall over like dominoes.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry about that, I really am. I can buy you lunch if you want something?” Hyejoo starts picking up a few of them to set aside in the corner and you help her.

“Nah, I’ll still be in the shower by then.”

Hyejoo scoffs. “If I'm addicted to caffeine, you're addicted to water. A sandwich sound good?”

“Yeah sure. I got a lot on my mind, Captain.”

“That include me?” A dismissive puff of air exits your lips. No, no way. She walks up to smell your uniform. Your acute awareness of her distance or lack thereof causes you to ignore her pupils' subtle drift downwards.

“You’re a weirdo, you know that?”

"Get to your shower stinky."

You wave Hyejoo off then enter the bathroom. The scurry of little steps and a slam from the front door echo the whole apartment. Never any privacy in here. These sounds give way to the jet engine of your shower with its pressure betraying the bargain rate of your rent. Soap washes away your muscles' ache and the sun’s beating on your skin. It's been unusually warm since the leaves turned brown. Water builds up in the tub.

Something's not adding up. There it is again. That plunging in your heart. Sparring always helps a bit after your early morning manual labor carrying bags of sand. However, it does not stop the resurfacing of your every mistake as there's nothing but your mind in the shower. You don't have a plan and your future is void because money and work hours kill you as much as school. You're not even getting all the wages you earn and there's nothing you can do about it. Past choices bubble up in that unkind way. The cup fills and clear blue liquid engulfs you.

Lift yourself out the tub to catch a breath that you don't deserve. Deliberate respirations do nothing to slow down your heart rate. The only thing that can is a captain. You could wander the ocean on a raft with her alone but you have no idea if she felt even close to the same. Maybe she's just the most important friend you've ever had. Light from the small window hits the tiled floor. Unplug the drain. Right, you left your clothes in your room so wrap yourself with a green towel you find hanging from the doorknob.

Shit! There's not a mouse in sight but you shriek like there is one when Hyejoo materializes in the confined kitchen. Hyejoo expresses no surprise herself as she sits cross legged on the miniature wooden dining table playing yet another mobile game. Laundry baskets and garbage bags hold all the previous mess. Your surprise at her appearance transforms into surprise for her proactiveness. You want to give her thanks but no words escape your lips.

"You gonna put on some clothes? Perv. That’s my towel too."

Your hands push off invisible blame. The hands of the wall clock reads five minutes before noon. "Woah, woah, wait a sec. What happened to the midterm?"

"Walked out in the middle of it. Couldn’t deal. Dropped."

"Wait, what about the refund?"

"Sunk cost dude.” Hyejoo sniffs a wide white shirt hanging from a chair next to her. “This yours or mine? Ehh, it's clean either way."

You catch the shirt and smell it. A little vanilla. It's hers. “Thanks Captain.”

“Even sniffing it? Really a perv.” You almost forget a single piece of fabric separates full exposure of your genitals but the realization makes you blush anyway.

“Nah, you smelled it first and. Whoever smelt it, dealt it.”

“That’s not what that saying means.” Hyejoo gets up from her awkward seat.

Incredible how many new ways she can throw you off like when she bumps into you with her eyes are still on her phone. Hyejoo's clumsiness will be your death as the towel slips down and hangs solely from your half erect dick. Cool, you're just a clothing rack now. She turns you around with one hand and snatches the large shirt with the other. Your bare moon is in full view.

"You gonna put this on or just stand there?" she says with no qualms about the absurd sight of your newly cleansed rear. You scramble to wrap the towel tightly around you to tame your erection but there's no way she hasn't noticed by now.

"Y- yep, I, I will do that, for sure." Turn back around and take the shirt to put it on carefully. It’d be oversized for her but it fits you snug. Your ears must have joined your cheek’s redness because your nipples poke through the thin white fabric.

Hyejoo takes a single glance away from her screen at your makeshift towel skirt and laughs. "Actually, you look cute like that. Just keep the towel on, it's less to clean."

Wide-eyed, you say, "What if ahjumma barges in?"

"What if? Whatever, no fun." She sticks her tongue out then gets comfortable on the couch while her diligent and nimble fingers peck at the screen.

Return to the restroom and deal with your erection before it becomes a problem. You’ve seen hints of her comely body before and it helps you undress her layered attire in your imagination. Instead of the black button-up long sleeve and track pants she wore just moments ago, you picture a crop top, her hair tied up and white panties, and it's that latter image that affixes to your mind. On a particularly balmy day, Hyejoo wore only her underwear because she had nothing else to do but game and it hasn't stopped plaguing your fantasies ever since. Your hands are Hyejoo’s, soft and loving just for a moment.

"You taking another shower in there or what?" Hyejoo shouts, “I’d definitely hear from here!”

Reality smacks you in the face. She had no fear of you, no worry that you’d take advantage of her. Were you even a man? Stop your jerking and get up.

Open the bathroom door absentmindedly and thump. It smacks her head. You don’t even think about why she was standing right next to the door, instead sweeping aside her hair from her face. Red doesn’t come from where you hit her.

Simultaneously, you and Hyejoo say, “You okay?”

“Um, I’m, look-”

Her blush grows but she interrupts your blabbering, “I didn’t hear you respond and thought you, uh, died in there or something.”

Nearly reached la petite mort if that counted but instead you say, “No, I just. Had a lot to consider.”

“Sure.” You’ve never seen her this flustered since it’s enough for her to scurry back to her room. Hopefully things wouldn’t be too awkward.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“I fucking hate you!” Hyejoo yells.

“Oh yeah? Same!” you retort, probably too loud.

Her tone goes down. “Were those the lines?”

“Ehh, as long as we get the gist of the argument down.”

Hyejoo and you stand on the stairway up to your rooftop apartment in your rehearsed spots. She looks a little confused on how to start what she wants to start but you poke at her when you see the landlady walking towards the stairs.

“Chill out!” she yelps.

“Chill out, you’re telling me to chill out?"

"Seriously, oppa," that's about as strained as a human can say a word, "You’re such a slob!”

“Shut up, look at me straight in the eyes and tell me you’re not just as bad,” you say, trying not to laugh but Hyejoo’s punch knocks the wind out of you. Your pain is only half acting. Her sympathetic look does nothing to soothe you.

"Ya!" The elderly woman interrupts and forces you two apart. “That’s enough! I get you’re cousins but even I don’t fight this badly with my family.”

Hyejoo whips her pupils towards you as though to ask the same question you had, if you sold the illusion too hard.

“I get that living with your kin is tough but at the very least, no murders on my property. Not until one of you graduates.” The old lady squints and turns to each of you saying, “Promise me. No hitting. Not in my sight.”

You nod then Hyejoo’s sigh becomes an assenting nod when the landlady smacks her wrist nearly black and blue. Satisfied at her hard work reconciling family matters, she walks back down her stairs to do her usual wandering around the neighborhood. Hyejoo and you take a second to stretch and relax.

“Ha. Do as I say, not as I do,” Hyejoo says as you both sit on the concrete steps.

You caress your tender rib. “Or don't do at all. Ow. You wanna be a Youtuber? They do boxing and gaming, and you'd kill doing both." Hyejoo's laugh is rich and all that it takes for you to forgive her. You exhale. "Hopefully that gets her off our backs for a while.”

“How do you even manage Taekwondo? You’re so fragile and-" Her sentence is interrupted when she looks at your built arms.

"No way they hit as hard as you, Captain." You miss her carnal look when you close your eyes and think about the nickname that you aimlessly threw out one day.

She stands up. Your eyes violently spread open at her “Kya!” Hyejoo’s fighting stance and shouts masquerading kihaps are totally off. As much as Hyejoo could kill you, a Taekwondo fighter since your childhood, she could also be incredibly cute too.

You tsk. "All that power and no technique."

Hyejoo sits back down none the more ashamed and scratches her head. "You think it would’ve been easier if we came clean?”

“Ahjumma could never allow two strangers to live co-ed. No way. I’m still surprised you came up with that so quickly.”

“It just came out so naturally, oppa!” she says in a deriding high pitch. “Yeah right I ever call you that again.”

Ring ring. You answer the call and Hyejoo's quizzical stare turns concerned at your breathlessness from the words that drill into your ear. They slam, they crash and their volume could break your eardrums even though they’re said as calmly as possible. The hole in your raft grows bigger and leaks more so even when you reach the abandoned shore, you're marooned.

"Fuck, fuck, god."

Sprint for the next bus. Pay no heed to the girl chasing you. Dammit, this can't be happening. Every problem gets fucking magnified because you can't have anything good and if you did, never could it last for more than a goddamn millisecond. You embark on the most anxious ride of your life even though you already know exactly what's going to happen. Transfer buses. The skyscrapers hover over you and gloat about how you’ll never enter their doors. Asphalt and glass swelter you when they reflect radiation down the sky. Your skin hurts. You get off the bus and arrive at the headquarters of the construction company. At the front of the building stands your boss.

Slap. "Did you not get the message? Were you under a tunnel?"

You get on your knees and bow. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"No one else is going to hire a goddamn delinquent like you."

"Please. I thought you understood." You nearly prostrate yourself

"I have no idea what you're talking about. There's a lot of assault on your record."

You stop yourself from blurting out that you fucking know. Defending yourself from bullies is assault? He already knew this was bullshit since that's why he hired you in the first place but now he's backtracking like a rat.

"I'll do anything to work here." He shakes his head while you hold back a tear. "Please. Just. Just tell me why?"

"You got greedy."

"Greedy?" You raise your head and then your tone. "Getting paid for the work that I do is greed?"

"You're on your knees and wanna talk back? Get out."

Bang. A closing door. Your head slumps back down and not a single person on the bus would misunderstand your emotions. You take the longest way home, unsure if you even deserve to go back. Any time, you could give up. Ponder your choices. Never going to get a job again. Never going to school. Never will have a chance to learn or a chance to improve. Never going to have money and never will have a place to live. Never going to see Hyejoo again. You have to give up.

One missed phone call from your polar opposite. She can do so much better. The longest way home turns longer when it goes straight to the sea as you decide to live life as a fisherman with your uncles. You were always invited. You wasted your time in the city. There's no stress here.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

There's no happiness either. Weeks passed even though only days passed. That’s life on the water. Everything spins. Fortunately, you manage to keep your stomach in not wanting to inconvenience the bus driver, the only other person in the vehicle.

You look at your watch as you near Hyejoo's home. She must be asleep by now but you carry each foot heavily when you walk up the steps anyway. Apologies, excuses and petitions that you wrote in your head blank away when you open the door when you see a woman asleep on the couch with earbuds on. Her unconscious head bounces to a slow rhythm. Your lungs fail your mouth's movements to form words because of all that creamy skin covered only by a green towel that creates an outline of her captivating curves. Hyejoo's legs beg to be licked and her collarbones direct your gaze to the bulging flesh poking from the top of the towel with her nipples an inch from your sight. Any other day and you’d ravage her on the spot. Stupid brain tells you to leave and stupid you follows.

You're outside when you hear Hyejoo say, "Hey! Motherfucker, where'd you go you son of a bitch?"

She steps out with no regard to her state of dress and you spin around watching for any witness. You notice her hold back when she hits you but her consecutive punches send a message anyway as each strike punctuates her words, "What, makes you think, you can worry me, like that?"

"Woah, you should. You should get back inside your house," your voice breaks and you back away.

"Hold on now, you're really about to go? Like this?" Hyejoo says.

"You. You look busy. I have to go."

"I'm sorry, I was just messing around with you. Come on, you're really telling me-" She notices your tumultuous expression and sighs. “Fuck it, we'll worry about it tomorrow. First of all, come in. With me. Into our home.”

You follow her into her apartment. She quickly returns from her room in a simple white tee and red gym shorts revealing the supple shape of her ass.

“I'm not gonna ask, okay? Tell you what. When you have a problem, the only answer is late night soju, beer and?” she says.

“Chicken, it’s gotta be. Come on, I see the bones right there.” You point to the countertop dishes. “I’m surprised this place isn’t messier."

"I can handle myself, thank you very much. And that. That was leftover, dry, sober chicken. We're going to munch down on that good crispy skin and we're doing it goddamn wasted." You can't help but match her smile, more radiant and genuine than yours.

Hyejoo pulls out all the alcohol from the small fridge while you call for delivery before both of you step outside the home. It’s night but the heat would make you believe the moon disguises the sun with how it shines on the green roof. What a weird fall. Only the trees remind you of the season. A short plastic table as the only furniture easily moved outside means that you’d have to sit close together on the floor, not that you minded.

Her silence confuses you but she becomes her usual self after you both down glasses of mixed beer and soju and especially after she sees the delivery man bringing an absurd amount of plastic bags for two people.

“Let’s. Go!” she shouts sloppily.

The poor worker looks at you so you give him a knowing nod and point to the beer and soju cans strewn about. His thumbs up as he walks away beguiles you. You look at Hyejoo and realize all the cleavage she’s showing with the shirt she chose. It's as revealing as the towel she wore earlier. Did she not put on a bra? Stand up quickly and search for the guy but his motorcycle revs and he’s already out of sight. That fucker probably saw something he shouldn’t have. You’re never gonna order from that chicken spot again. You bite angrily into the spicy crispy wing. Alright, maybe you just won’t order at this hour or whenever that dude works. Hyejoo chows down with drumsticks on each hand and it’s clear she’s responsible for a majority of the finished carcasses. The stains on her shirt would not make her look any less goddamn cute.

“Cheers!” Glasses clink. How many drinks, how many, burp, were you down? She burps too, you burp together. It’s funny. There was a lot of conversation but it slips you.

"I said I wouldn't talk about it, but Doyun and Michael, worried sick. They came here, everything.” Hyejoo garbles her words.

"Just ‘cause I don't show up to the club for a few days?"

"I'm telling you, a lot of people care. For you. I know I do."

It’s been a while since you started your little escape. All the food’s gone. You’re more sober now. You swear. The nighttime is so comfortable that Hyejoo brings out her blanket to lay on, along with a spoon and a watermelon.

"You're gonna have to wash this later," you say.

“Alright fine. Don't. Don’t rest yourself besides a pretty lady.“ Stab. ”On a perfect starry night.” Stab. “And don’t have some of this delicious watermelon."

One more stab at the watermelon she splits it open. Her devilish look suggests she might do the same to your rib cage if you don’t acquiesce. Lie down next to Hyejoo on the flimsy layer of cloth. You share pieces of the fruit and notice water spilling down her mouth. Definitely sober by now. She’s maybe half a meter away.

"Starry's a strong word to use.” You twirl your finger at the scarce lights in the black backdrop. “Lady too with the way you eat-" She playfully covers your mouth and flicks your forehead.

You don't know when your laughter and banter slow down, or when you start inching closer to her. It doesn't matter.

“Fishing is boring. They make it look all dramatic on shows and you’re just waiting. The night sky’s much clearer though.”

“You gotta. When you do something like that, gotta lemme join in at least.”

“You’re really fine on going on a trip with a man, alone, faraway on the sea?”

“If it’s you.”

“I don’t count, not much of a man at all. I just run away from shit and-”

"Shhh,” she shushes you loudly. “You can count on me.” Hyejoo says and you don’t let her voice project into empty space.

“I will.” It sounds a little forced from you.

“You will,“ she sounds so sure of herself, ”you’ll be okay.”

Your head lays in her neck. A finger in a cup, breaking surface tension so a drop escapes past the rim. You have no outdated sentiments on displaying emotion but you held back often pretending your tenacity was as strong as your body. Not this time. Your cup overflows.

Only moonlight refracts on your tears and Hyejoo wipes them away. You have no idea what she’s thinking as she gazes into the few stars visible in the city. Turn on your side and Hyejoo does likewise to face you then puts a couple of fingers in your hair. Cup her face in return and it wears many emotions, such as impishness, meekness at a few times, and an often impenetrable focus, but above all it’s the standard for beauty in how it assumes no blemish. Her triangle mouth is distinct, welcoming, but you hesitate. Her minute sugary fragrance overwhelms the variety of smells in the air. Crickets and distant occasional traffic. Hyejoo’s head tilts forward then places her lips light on yours and your world is silent. Your heart’s pulse slows so it doesn't interrupt.

“Captain,” you exhale out when she finally retreats her mouth. The name sounds ridiculous in this setting. “Ma’am?”

“Whatever sounds right to you,” she yields, though the subdued caresses on the definition of your arms, and less subtle grabs on your black shirt, convey that she’s in charge even if it’s a gentle direction. "Just Hyejoo is fine."

It's like she’s teaching you how to spar for the first time though neither of you are virgins. Hyejoo gives another kiss then turns you recumbent. You could not and would not stop her now especially when she straddles your denim covered thighs. Take off your shirt and her hands rush to aid you.

“But I’d prefer we don’t think at all.” Is she drooling?

“That’s what got me into trouble. Thoughtlessness.” Your eyes somehow wander away from the woman and her sumptuous yet clothed ass grinding on you.

“What do you think of me?

“Huh?” you say and your eyes snap back to her.

The underside of her shorts warm your groin. “I said, what do you think of me?”

“I think, ugh,” her weight striking a sensitivity in your pants makes you moan, “I think, you’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

“What a player. Well, that’s all you need to think.” Hyejoo rocks back and forth. “Fuck, this is going to be good.”

Lay your hands on her hips and Hyejoo takes your right one, lifting herself just enough to let your dick breathe.

“Why do you need that hand?” you say.

“Feel this.” She takes your hand to knead the thin cloth under her mound and you feel just the tiniest hint of moisture build on your palm.

Pull away to take a base whiff of your slippery fingers. It’ll be a new addiction. The smell of alcohol and the most delicious fried chicken in the world couldn’t compare.

"It's been like this around you since the day we met." Hyejoo bends down and etches every word of the confession into your eardrums, her tone even raspier. "This is all for you."

“Really?” You give her a peck and it turns frisky when tongues join the mix and teeth nibble at lips.

“Mhm.” Her lips vibrate on yours. Hyejoo gropes your crotch over your jeans. “I know it's going to be perfect.” She unzips and pulls down your pants to your knees. You take them off your legs completely and she searches for your wallet.

"I just lost my job and you're gonna rob me?" She breaks her serious character with a snicker. You sniffle and your mood lightens, “And how’d you know I had a condom in there?”

“Just had a feeling.” She winks.

Not an implausible cold reading but you can't count out the possibility of her snooping through your personal effects. You don't mind her proclivities this time. Hyejoo traces your every muscle’s curve with her index and middle finger and focuses especially around your pecs.

“I have to concede. I love these muscles of yours. Ever since that first day I met you at the open house. Maybe I’m just a simple woman.”

“Simplicity is sophistication.” Her fingers draw a line down your torso.

"Indeed. But I'm most interested in this hunk of meat right," she frees your cock from its confines, "Here." Hyejoo licks her lips.

“How is it?”

You’re already hard but Hyejoo's hands deftly work your shaft stiffer. “It’s so thick and this vein right here. It’ll hit just right.”

"Fuck, Hyejoo," you utter when she spits a little on your cock before she unrolls the condom on your erection. Hyejoo slips aside her shorts.

You don't get a view of her pussy with how she sprawls herself on top of you, but the slickness of her lips and the warmth that she emanates from between her legs immerses your senses enough. The missionary with her on top lets her control by the way she guides your cock and presses down on you.

“Oh god, I was right, fuuck,” Hyejoo proclaims when she sinks herself carefully into you and, on the next bounce, smacks her butt right into your waist. Her snugness clenches and quakes on your cock. Willowy arms share a similar hold of your body when she embraces you. You need her as badly as she needs you. You take heavy breaths, especially through your nose. Even her sweat is so alluring. The velvet texture that surrounds you keeps taut on your dick no matter how forcefully she rides herself on top of you. Squelches and quiet moans to a higher power pepper the warm night air.

Hyejoo removes her shirt and slings it away before bowing back down to lick your ears "God, your tits are perfect," you say even though your hands squeeze her buttcheeks in time to her thrusts. Her perky breasts recoil back and forth as they rub your chest while hard nipples juxtapose their softness.

No chance someone would come up to this little rooftop at this hour or have a good view though your cheeks flush at the thought. What if you had extra chicken coming? Or what if the landlady decided to check in on you two late at night? What if-

Hyejoo nudges her forehead against yours. She knows your habits. Your worried face is too familiar for her not to react so she nuzzles your neck and surrounds you with kisses.

Her husky voice vibrates your whole face. "Just focus on me." She makes out with you before her tongue dips into every crevice of your face the same way your cock does in her pink pussy.

Your dick slips out for a second and you take the time to admire her beauty and your fortune.

“Telling me not to drown and you’re going to inundate me,” you say in between her smooches, "With all these kisses."

“Well. Mwah.” Another peck. "You're so delectable.”

“So I’m just chicken to you then.” This deep kiss is probably to shut you up. You’re fine with that.

Regret on her mouth that she pulls away from you. One of you rips off her shorts, the last piece of clothing obstructing you two from total symmetry. Who cares who sees. You’re both fully naked with not a woe for the surrounding world. Delicate hands splayed across your upper body grasp tightly and again, your pecs get particular attention while she fondles your nipples.

She adjusts her back straight up and now she’s on her knees seated on your erection. The cowgirl stance allows her to find a new cusp of your cock head inside her. Hyejoo gyrates on you and you notice the understated lubrication of her pussy begins to overpower everything else in existence. Her musk vaguely reminds you of the ocean while its pheromones have you just as wobbly. It’s enough that, even though you're on your back, you have to hold her waist to avoid keeling over. Nails dig into your chest.

“God, yes, you, your cock, everything, just fuck into me.”

Hyejoo relaxes her body weight and relinquishes the rhythm to you. Pick up a new wind in your sails when you hear her gasp as you pinch her nipples. The momentum has you use all your stamina as though your rigorous fitness had one culminating purpose. You would make Hyejoo cum with only your cock. Rotate and circle your pelvis in pursuit of her most tender spot and an uncharacteristic high pitched wail confirms the location of the treasure. It’s difficult holding yourself up to reach the sensitive wall but she realizes your shared interest.

“That’s, that’s the spot. When I touch myself and think of you, it’s right there, fuck, it’s right there.” There’s no speed or power in your movement, only deliberate jabs and graceful nudges at the softest flesh. Sure it’s work, but damn did you get paid for it since she somehow sops even more between her thighs. Truly the reciprocating delight of friction and silkiness on your dick’s tip is worth it. Your name mixes profanities and wet slapping noises as Hyejoo bucks her hips in climax. Prized juices cascade all over your lap. Her highest vocalizations pierce your ears and her pussy tries its best to milk you but Hyejoo keeps as still as she can to hold your cock’s ideal positioning. Smear the fluids that coat her thighs slick with your hands and lick at your fingers, thirsty like you’re stranded.

Those thighs, by smothering your cock and removing your condom, soothe the pangs of when you pull out. Hyejoo is still in her cowgirl position reeling from her climax and her contorted face is yet more polished than any art you’ve consumed.

Seize the opportunity. Bend your dick forward. The topside of your shaft now rubs on her well-formed ass cheeks, moisturized by the wetness on your cock. Its cradle is different from her pussy's with perfect round cushions in her buns and a tight asshole that greets and tempts your shaft every time you thrust. It’s a siren call you’d have to answer another day. Fucking her bare buttcheeks satisfies you plenty enough.

She lifts up to let your erection return to its idle upward stance and you fuck her thighs in response. Her labia gnaws away at the bottom of your shaft and it begs you to shove it back in especially with how its liquor intoxicates your dick. You don’t forfeit, already overwhelmed by the thickness of her legs and her saliva dribbling from her mouth to help her juices. Hyejoo squirms as you repeat fucking her ass cheeks and fucking her thighs, and it makes the both of you feel heady. Alcohol and lack of sleep would probably do that too.

“Please. Hyejoo,” you implore, flexing your cock to scrape by her pussy lips.

“You want to?” She teases your bare tip but even just the spread of her satin pink on your head makes you shoot just a little. “I. I dunno.”

“Can we?”

“No.” You regret your loud sigh and feel selfish since you already had more satisfaction than one man could ever experience in his life. ”No, not no. No, as in no thinking.”

Plunge back into her wetness. Your cycle in and out continues with you eager to make her climax a second time. Maybe it’s the third time? The only thing you can recall is that this round, you can feel every corner of her pussy on your shaft tensing and relaxing without the latex protection. All of everything is a blur. Hyejoo could be clutching and ogling your muscles. She might be kissing your neck or maybe she’s bobbing up and down to show off her tits and her tummy. God, that midriff would look perfect coated in your cum. You could live forever with Hyejoo mounted on your cock and riding. A ringtone interrupts forever once again. It’s from that number. What was that number? Fuck it, no thinking. Her bouncing tits hypnotize you away from substantiality.

She snaps her fingers. “Hey! Hey. This is, fuck that feels so good, god your cock is just right. Ah fuck, I really think you should answer that.” You take an eternity to slow your boat. Hyejoo points to your phone on the table next to you. Work. She’s right. Both of you take a second to stabilize your breathing. Try to push her off but she refuses, shifting her mass onto your lap and keeping her pussy’s hold tight and warm on you.

“Really?” You groan, “You’re the one who told me to answer it.”

“It’s so late and they haven’t stopped calling.” She rests her head on your chest and yawns. “Your cock is sooo big in me. Don’t even need to move.”

Channel your practice silently jerking off to keep your cool though years of doing that couldn’t prepare you for this. Your hands certainly tried but never could imitate her pussy’s plush tightness. Really wish you didn’t have to but finally, you answer your phone after minutes of ringing. The voice on the other side mumbles a greeting. Didn’t expect to hear him. “Joonho. Why the fuck are you calling now?”

“It’s me! Joonho.”

“Yeah, I know. The hell you calling for?”

“Now that’s no way to speak to your boss, is it?”

“Huh?”

“I said that’s no way to speak.”

“I got that!”

“Hyung. That asshole, management fired him.”

“You telling me-”

“Yeah, they caught him stealing.”

“How the fuck?”

“Dude got too big for his britches and aimed up with his theft too. Mr. Son really didn’t like that shit.”

You cheer in your head. It wakes up the girl resting on you. Guess that wasn’t in your head. “Fuck man.”

"I know right. Fuck him!" You're not on speaker but Hyejoo must’ve heard him say that. You massage your ringing ear.

“Ow. But thank you. Seriously, it’s so late. You could’ve called me tomorrow.”

“I’m drunk as shit man. Sounds like you are too.” You don’t even realize how much you’re slurring your words. “Should I pull up, maybe we drink a little more?”

Stare at the woman still holding your cock in place, fluttering her lashes at you. Hyejoo mouths if you’re gonna take much longer. “I. I don’t think I will. We’ll have to meet up some other time, okay?”

Understanding that you’re winding down your call, she gets back upright and starts bouncing again. “You gonna pass out or something?” Joonho says.

“Something like that” Hyejoo teasingly drops her waist into you and waits, then lifts herself. You purse your lips. “Listen, ah.” And again. Purposeful slams into your cock too loud not to be picked up by a phone. “God. I gotta go, I’ll text you again tomorrow aight goodbye,” you rush your words.

She holds her hair up in pleasure and her profane cries let everyone living below know that you’re fucking the most gorgeous girl with more energy than you’ve ever had. For all the pressure on your sensitive nerves, it’s that image of Hyejoo satisfying her need with your cock that brings you closer.

“I’m almost there! Fuck, fuck.” You pull out and despite her drowsiness, Hyejoo diligently takes your dick with both hands, scoots back and bends down, slobbering on it with her mouth while her fingers stroke the skin of your shaft.

Hyejoo’s lips pop when she releases your cock’s tip. “Where do you wanna-”

“Those fucking perfect abs,” you shudder.

She takes advantage of your previous thrusts’ zeal on her thighs and repositions herself in cowgirl one last time to bend back and choke your cock with her toned legs. One single motion is all it takes. A tsunami and a storm clash. Didn’t remind her that you hadn’t cum at all away at sea as you explode. You call out, “Hyejoo, god, yes, fuck, Hyejoo, yes,” at every wave of pleasure. Shove desperately and Hyejoo’s eyes grow big at how much semen streams out of your slit because the volume of cum nearly rivals the fluid she ejected from her wetness. Her inner thighs, her lap and her stomach all soak in stickiness. She holds onto your arms as she finds enjoyment not only from your cock’s throbbing on her clit, but at your biceps and other curves. An inquisitive pinky takes a sample of your cum to lick up then, to your surprise, she collects all the cum she can with both hands and swallows it down.

“Ahh,” she presents her tongue to you.

Finally, you sit up and no amount of exhaustion would stop you from nibbling her neck as thanks.

“Relax, you hungry beast. You just came all over me and now you’re trying to tell the world we just fucked.” She gives you a little suck on your lips instead.

“I don’t mind.” You clash at her mouth and your teeth click. She smiles and gives you a deep but final smooch. Both of you breathe stiltedly and take time to readjust into the world once again.

“Me neither, if I didn’t have a presentation tomorrow.”

You fall back and feel everything aching in a good way. “Ah shit, school.”

“What did I tell you earlier?”

“Hmm?”

Hyejoo falls flat next to you and clasps her hands into yours. “You will be okay. I called them with an excuse. Speaking of which. You’re gonna find out sooner or later that a certain cool as fuck girl blew the whistle on that son of a bitch.”

This whole thing feels like it should be temporary, like a one-time thing. Any more and it’d be weird, yet her confidence makes you reroute all that anxious energy in your heart’s pace into something good. It’s not love but, “Thanks. I just. Thank you.”

“You are always welcome.” Her lips curl up.

“So. You a snitch now, huh?"

"Relax,” she hisses the end of the word. ”Maybe I snooped through the construction company records, maybe I didn’t. You didn’t hear from me, ‘kay?" She nudges your side with her elbow.

“Hey!” You laugh a little, ticklish in that spot. “Okay, okay. How’d you manage that anyway?”

“Joonho didn’t mention it? Well, I have my connections,” Hyejoo says.

You breathe out and you deserve it. “You really are the Captain.”

“Damn right. Guess you’re stuck on this boat a little.” Yawn. “Longer.” Her eyelids slowly descend.

Watch Hyejoo fall asleep and realize she’s nude and still a little sticky. You decide to make a smart decision just once by putting away all the garbage in your apartment. She giggles reflexively when you clean her up and you struggle but manage to put on her previous outfit.

After you get dressed yourself, you lie next to Hyejoo and watch the few lights in the sky all distanced from each other. You feel a little reticent but the old lady shouldn’t fret if the outdoors is a better bedroom for one night. Close your eyes. Drift away into the best sleep you’ve ever had even if it’s only you and a blanket separate the hard concrete rooftop from the atmosphere. Dreams of water are gracious for once. The ocean lacks bounds and you smile for it. Who cares about tomorrow? It’s made of sticks and rope fashioned from whatever bamboo you could find but the raft holds two. That’s all you need.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"A college roommate scenario where the male reader is living with LOONA's Olivia Hye and she's attracted to him sexually since he moved in due to his physique. Then one day, he got home all stressed and the two hooked up eventually." - @optimisticwritersworld

AFF, AO3

Pretty sure this was supposed to be all casual but then I started adding to explain the co-ed living scenario and the stress, so here we are. Watch out for more LOONA though no promises on timelines

#kpop smut #loona smut #request #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

325 notes · View notes

emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 7

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: Thank you for all the reviews, follows and likes! It means a lot to me.

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

Two days had passed and I was still trying to process what was happening. How could my life change so drastically again? I could no longer count on my twin brother, who I considered to be my best friend, the person I trusted the most in the entire world. I was filled by the same emptiness, the same sorrow I felt when my mother died. My life was in the palm of his hands and he was letting me go.

"Relax your shoulders, love," Bela whispered softly in my ear. "You're so tense."

Bela was the only person who still made me smile in the middle of all that chaos. She was helping me to find any clues in the diaries, about Miranda and about Auryk too. But for that, we had to work really fast.

We were sneaking back in the village everyday, it wasn't safe to bring those notes to the castle where Bela's mother and sisters could easily find. I prayed the weather wouldn't change and temperatures remained high. In another case, we wouldn't be able to go to my house again and my time with Lady Dimitrescu was running out.

Meanwhile, we were also working on overcoming my intimacy issues. Being intimate without having sex yet. First, we undressed each other completely. I had to know her body and allow her to know mine. I looked at the perfection of Bela's features for a second, before I was invaded by a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. It was the first time I was seeing a woman, completely naked, in front of me.

When I looked at her again, she was gazing at my body like if she was admiring a masterpiece in an art exhibit. At first, I was shy. I blushed and crossed my arms, as if I had any reasons to hide myself. Bela smiled. In that moment I knew she was appreciating me and that made me feel better.

"You're gorgeous, aren't you?" Bela lifted up my chin, forcing me to look at her, to see it in her eyes she was being truthful on her words.

"No more than you," I gathered some courage to move forward and extend my hand, touching a little bit of her soft skin, her arms, her chest, her stomach... then I stopped.

"This is okay," she assured me. But she understood that, in that moment, it was enough for me.

We both entered the bathtub, where I positioned myself in front of Bela and allowed her to take care of me. She gently rubbed my body with a sponge, starting by my back. Then, she moved to my front, rubbing my breasts, my stomach, my tights. Though we were in silence, she seemed to understand my limits, my barriers. Noticing how stressed I looked, she decided to give me a massage. I relaxed my shoulders as she told, focusing myself completely on our moment together.

"It's my turn," I told her. "Let me take care of you?"

Bela nodded and switched positions with me. I offered her the same treatment she gave me, but I wasn't so confident, so precise. My shaking hands would often betray me and I was unsure if I was being too gentle or too rough. Yet, she seemed to be enjoying it. I gave a special attention on washing her hair, it was so beautiful, so soft. The way it barely grew on the spot around her scar was a sin. I hated Miranda even more for that.

She rested her head against my chest as I continued to massage her scalp.

"Does it hurt?" I softly traced her scar with my finger.

"It stings sometimes," she sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Does it hurt?" Bela repeated my gesture, tracing the scar on my forearm.

"No," she never asked, yet I felt I should tell her how it happened. "Adrian told me he found me in the basement cutting myself, right after my mom died. But I don't remember."

"Trauma can block some painful memories."

I knew that very well. I realized how little I remembered the days after my mother's death. My last memory was seeing her mangled body being carried inside our house. Nothing else. I didn't remember her burial or if I managed to say goodbye. I couldn't remember if we had people visiting us or if I was alone with my father. Everything about those terrible days was a blur.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Office - Present Days

When Lady Dimitrescu called her daughters for a private meeting that morning, Bela couldn't help feeling anxious and scared. Her mother was usually a woman of her word, but when it came to her reputation with Mother Miranda, she'd become completely blind by rage. Alcina really believed her when she suggested Aleena's brother could be responsible for stealing the Lords and also for the attack to the castle, even when the evidences pointed to the opposite.

"I told you so," while they waited outside, Cassandra was smirking deviously. She was determined to do anything to annoy Bela right in the morning. "It won't well for you. Our mother can't betray Mother Miranda and the other Lords because you've fallen in love with a stupid human girl."

"Shut up," Bela decided she wouldn't give in to her provocations. It was Cassandra's favorite manner to extract information from her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think we're stupid?" Still, her sister wouldn't stop. "Everyone, except for our mother, has noticed already. Me, Daniela, even Mrs. Volkov. Tell me, Bela. Will you keep pretending when we serve her on a silver plate tonight?"

Bela advanced in her sister's direction. Cassandra quickly dissolved into flies, she did the same. The corridor was a mess of flying insects and buzzing for a few minutes, before they had to shape back into their bodies. Now, she'd finally have the chance to inflict her sister some pain. She pinned Cassandra against the wall.

"Stop, you two," Daniela tried to intervene. "What the hell are you doing?"

Cassandra tried to throw a punch, but Bela was a little faster on her reflects, she grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm.

"What's your problem, Cassandra?" Bela angered. "You can't stand the idea she wasn't one of your trophy maidens, isn't it? Just leave me alone. Leave her alone too."

In that moment, they heard the door opening. Lady Dimitrescu appeared in the corridor, with an ugly snarl on her face.

"What the hell is going on here?" She yelled. "I thought I had daughters, but then I come here and you two are fighting like animals."

Daniela sighed relieved. This time, she wasn't included.

"I'm sorry, mother," Cassandra straightened her dress. "It's Bela who's being a bitch."

"You started it," Bela tried to grab her hair, but she deflected. "You're insulting me from the moment I arrived."

"The three of you! In my office, now!"

Bela couldn't feel guilty this time. Something inside her had changed. She didn't care if her mother was disappointed at her behavior, absolutely no one would touch Aleena. Especially Cassandra.

"It's all about that girl, mother," the middle sister proceeded to tell Alcina. "Bela is in love with her. They've been making out around the castle all the time."

"And this is none of your goddamn business!"

"It is, when your actions are putting us all in danger! Her brother..."

"Stop!" Lady Dimitrescu shouted, making they both go silent. "Is it going to be like this anytime a new woman steps inside this castle?"

No. Not for Bela. She didn't care about other women. Cassandra could have them if she wanted, as long as she stayed away from her girlfriend.

"I agree," Cassandra continued. "It has to end. I vote that we drain her tonight."

"CASSANDRA!" Alcina punched the desk, making her stop instantly. "I didn't call you here to talk about this girl."

A part of Bela was relieved, but she when her eyes crossed with her mother's, the feeling of anxiety started growing inside her. Now she knew about her relationship with Aleena. And her sisters too. She couldn't predict how they'd react.

"I'm going to another meeting with Mother Miranda tonight. I expect to find this castle intact when I return. If I discover my daughters are fighting in my absence, I'll be truly disappointed."

"Yes, mother," Daniela said. "No one is going to fight anymore. Right?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes at the youngest sister. Bela only gave her an annoyed look.

So that was the reason of their visit to Lady Dimitrescu's office. For now, Aleena was safe. They still had a few days to gather information about Mother Miranda and whatever she was planning. Bela was about to leave after her sisters when her mother called her back. She froze.

"Bela, you stay. We need to talk."

"Yes, mother?" She sat in front of her mother again.

"What were you and Cassandra fighting about?"

"I-I... uh, it's true. I'm in love with Aleena."

Bela decided it was time to stop lying. After all her mother was the person she trusted the most in this world, besides Aleena. Lady Dimitrescu stared at her face emotionless. Bela couldn't figure out what she could be thinking. She looked down, avoiding her mother's intense gaze.

"It's different this time," she explained. Although Alcina never bothered when they got involved with women, she hated the mess it usually caused. Sometimes Cassandra would slaughter her partners in her bedroom or some other place too hard to be cleaned. Daniela fell in love too easily, always having her heart broken when she discovered the subject of her affection was only using her to escape the castle and the fate every servant usually had. In this process, a lot of other things would break too. Such as the castle's furniture and the servant's bones. "I'm doing things right. I even asked her to be my girlfriend."

Bela wouldn't get involved with women so often as her sisters, but when she did, it surely never ended well. They'd become disappointed when they found out she didn't reciprocate their feelings. There would be a lot of arguing, tears and some of them would even dare to call her mother for a talk. In the end, they always died anyways.

She had never been in love before. Until now.

"Girlfriend?!" Lady Dimitrescu eyes widened in surprise and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Bela finally knew what what her mother should be thinking about. The woman she once loved. "Oh Bela..."

"She makes me happy, mother. Like I've never been before."

"And this is exactly what concerns me, daughter. You know how it ends."

"It doesn't have to end that way. I'm controlling my instincts very well and..."

"But she's human and young. She's going to study abroad, meet new people who are just like her. Then, she'll forget you ever existed."

That was the one thing Bela had accepted since the moment she decided to kiss Aleena. Soon, they'd be saying goodbye and there would be nothing left for her, only the memories. Yet, it was worthy. Every moment by Aleena's side was precious.

"I know that," she assured Lady Dimitrescu. "Mother, the only thing I want is your word you're letting her go by the end of this week. Whatever her brother did, Aleena's innocent."

"Okay, daughter," her mother's hand touched hers. The corners of her mouth curled up in a small smile. "I promise you. As long as you promise me you and Cassandra will stop fighting."

"Okay, I'll ignore her provocations. I promise."

"You know your sister, Bela. Cassandra is very attached to our family. She's only jealous most of your attention is being dedicated to Aleena."

"Yeah, I know."

Bela held her mother's hand and smiled back at her.

"Girlfriend..." she was still muttering to herself and shaking her head in denial as Bela stood up and started to walk away. "Well, I suppose there were worse options."

As she opened the office's door, ready to leave, Alcina spoke:

"Bela, take care."

"I will."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

I asked my breakfast to be served in my room. Going to the dining room all by myself was pointless, as Bela and her sisters were reunited with their mother in her office. I wondered what they could be discussing. Was it about me or Auryk?

Anyways, our time was running out. I only had until the end of the week to prove my brother's innocence and expose Miranda's betrayal against the Four Lords. There was only one problem, if Auryk wasn't stealing from the Lords, he wasn't involved in something good either. The manner he spoke to me on the phone, it seemed dangerous and secretive.

And there was Bela. Everytime I remembered the page I ripped off from those diaries I'd feel my chest tightening a little bit. I wouldn't let my brother, and whoever he was working for, lay a finger on her. From the moment I arrived, she was nothing but sweet to me. She always did everything to protect me and I was willing to do the same.

Mrs. Volkov entered the room, bringing a tray of food. She locked the door behind her.

"Ms. Novak, I'd like to speak to you in private for a moment," she asked.

I nodded in agreement.

"I couldn't help noticing Ms. Bela coming and leaving this room very often lately."

"Yes," now I could understand why Cassandra was always threatening the staff with her knifes. Even if Mrs. Volkov was trying to protect me, what I did inside my room was none of her business. I feared she'd tell Alcina. "We're working on a personal issue of mine. And I'd appreciate if this information stays between us only."

"My mouth is shut, Ms. Novak. I only beg you to be careful, I've seen many girls like you going missing or being dragged to the dungeons after getting involved with the mistress' daughters."

Of course she had to remind me of the fact my girlfriend probably has had enough partners to fill both sides of a book page.

"Thank you for your concern."

And of course she had to run right into 'Ms. Bela' as she opened the door to leave.

"Mrs. Volkov," she greeted, polite as she always was. Sometimes I wondered if Bela was so well mannered even when she was killing her victims. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Everything's fine, Ms. Bela. I was only serving Ms. Novak her breakfast."

"Thank you. I suppose we're good for now. I call you if we need anything else."

Bela shut the door, immediately forcing the woman to go away. I asked her to lock it, just in case.

"Good morning, love," she sat by my side at the table and pressed a kiss on my cheek. "I hope you saved me some because I'm starving."

"Hey, didn't you just have breakfast with your mom?"

"Not actually, I refused it. I was waiting to have breakfast with you, like we do every morning."

She smiled, causing butterflies in my stomach.

"Aren't you sweet?" I was kinda expecting her to come. I even asked Mrs. Volkov for an extra cup and plate. I passed it to Bela. "I was hoping you'd come."

I retributed her kiss.

"So, what are doing today?" She wanted to know. "Are we coming back to your house? Or would you like to do something different?"

"I wish, but we have to finish reading the diaries. I only have a few days left before your mom decides what she wants to do to me."

"I spoke to her. She's letting you go by the end of the week."

"Is she?" I asked, to be sure.

Bela nodded in response.

I should be happy with the information, Lady Dimitrescu wasn't going to kill me after all. But I wasn't. I was expecting her to protest and keep me as a prisoner for weeks, months, maybe years as it seemed Auryk wasn't coming back. I wanted to be stuck in that castle for the rest of my life, as long as I had Bela by my side.

"She has a meeting with Mother Miranda tonight," she added. "She usually doesn't come back until the morning. We should do something special."

"Like what?"

"Like a date?"

The concept of having a date was a little bit difficult when you lived in a village that wasn't even in the maps Your options were very limited: going to the nearest town, going to the pub or do something at home. The first two options could not end well as we'd be going too far from the castle or if any villagers recognized Bela.

We could stay in my house and order some food, there was this restaurant in town that would deliver even in that hellhole of a place. We could also watch movies and make out on the couch.

Maybe more. I was desperate for more. Especially now I knew we'd be separated soon. I wanted to enjoy every second of your moments together. Yet, I was insecure. I couldn't help thinking of Mrs. Volkov comment regarding Bela's level of experience.

"I think I have something in mind," I grabbed Bela's hand. "Ready?"

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's House - Present Days

We rod to the village as were doing every day. I was always concerned some other villager could see me and recognize me. At this point, everybody should know about what happened to me. They'd instantly connect the dots if they saw Bela. When we arrived to my house again, I was relieved. Almost. Until I saw the front door had been forced open.

"Oh fuck," I quickly took my daggers before taking another step into the house. "Somebody broke into my house. They may still be in there."

Bela took some kind of blade from her boots too.

"What? I have my tricks too, love." She asked, noticing I was surprised. "Cassandra isn't the only good hunter."

We carefully opened the door. Before I could even do anything, Bela grabbed me and covered my mouth. Her senses were probably detecting something nearby.

"Shhhh," she pointed to her ears. "I can hear something... in the basement."

"But not all of us are vampires," I muttered. When I noticed, Bela had already vanished, turning into flies. I followed her to the basement, after grabbing a rifle. Before I even got there, I already heard a male voice screaming.

"What the fuck?! What are you freaks even doing here?!"

I recognized it before I could even see the figure. But I waited until I was downstairs to confront him.

"Heisenberg. I could ask you the same," I spoke, pointing the rifle at him even if I knew it was useless. "What are you doing here?"

"You," he turned around from the hidden cabinet where the weapons were stored. "Weren't you trapped at Lady Super Sized Bitch's castle?"

"Have some respect talking about my mother," Bela shaped back into her body. "Not that she has any talking about you. So I guess you both are even."

"Oh great, and you brought one of the daughters with you. At least it's the decent one."

"Are you going to explain what you're doing in my house?" I angered. There was a good reason of why that man was there again. Coincidentally when he had a meeting with Miranda later that day. "Let me guess. You're searching for something to take to the Highest Bitch In Charge tonight. Am I right?"

"Wait, wait..." Heisenberg showed his hand as a sign of truce. I lowered the rifle. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Are you searching for something to take to Mother Miranda in the meeting tonight? Because many things are going missing, under mysterious circumstances that are strangely connected to her."

"Do you think Mother Miranda is the one stealing from the Lords?"

I told him about my conversation with Auryk and his suspicions about Miranda's involvement in the situation.

"I knew it!" Heisenberg kicked away an old wooden chair, shattering it to pieces. I shot Bela a confused glance but she also had no idea of what was going on. "I fucking knew it! She's been plotting against us. I always warned my siblings this day would come but they never believed me."

"We're searching for evidence against her," I explained. "To find out what's her plan. Do you have any ideas?"

"Are you sure you can trust her?" He pointed at Bela. "Her mother is the one who kisses Miranda's ass the most. After Moreau, of course."

"Absolutely," I told. "Bela's with me on the matter."

"Sit down, the two of you, and I'll tell you what I know."

We sat on the armchairs we had down the basement. Heisenberg pulled a bottle of whiskey from one of Adrian's secret hideouts. He was about to take a sip directly from the bottle, but I made him serve all of us. Something told me I'd need alcohol to deal with that conversation.

"All these years serving her and we're only her tests subjects, girl. We were all declared a failure upon bitch Miranda's eyes. Me, Lady Super Sized Bitch, the Moronic Freak, the Ugly-Ass Psycho Doll and even this..." Bela scowled at him, letting him know she wouldn't appreciate any offensive nicknames he could have for her, "this girl and her sisters. We're trapped in this village, being forced to decades of humiliation and servitude."

"Are you telling me you don't worship Miranda like your siblings and the villagers?" I tried to understand.

"No!" Heisenberg shouted. "Can't you see? She has taken everything from me. My humanity, my dignity! And now she has found the perfect vessel for her experiments, she's planning to get rid of us."

I drank the entire cup of whiskey in one sip. I looked at Bela, I could see that deep down she shared the same feelings for Miranda as Heisenberg. She tried to follow me, but judging by her face, she wasn't used to that kind of drink.

"I know what it feels like," she took off her helmet, showing the scar on her head and also the tattoo. "I also hate how she treats my mother and she's always too blind to see it. Whenever she returns from a meeting, I can read it on her face. She's disappointed at herself. She's miserable. She's always feeling she isn't enough for Mother Miranda's purposes."

"Fuck! This is what I'm talking about! Look what she's done to you. Don't you think it's time we end this?"

"Okay," I interrupted their moment of mutual pain. "She really fucked up with you guys, so we need to find a manner to stop whatever she's planning."

"Your father," Heisenberg pointed to me. "That bastard also shared my feelings of revenge and hate against that bitch, but for some reason he never accepted to join forces. I knew he had some diaries that contained some important information, do you happen to know where they are?"

Before I could answer, Bela stepped in and spoke for me.

"This is what we've been searching for," she lied. She looked at me, giving me a signal we shouldn't trust Heisenberg completely yet. "Apparently, Aleena's brother has taken it with him."

"And where's the little criminal?"

"I don't know," I said. "Last time we spoke he was acting shady as fuck. Whatever he's involved with, it's not good."

"Hmmm, drugs probably."

"No! I'm pretty sure my brother isn't... what's a vessel, by the way? You said Miranda has found a perfect one for her experiments."

"A person who can achieve a perfect mutation," it was Bela who answered my question. "One without any flaws, any side effects. Unlike me, the Lords or any person that has turned into a Lycan."

"Exactly," Heisenberg added. "One with a body that will be able to revive her daughter."

"What the fuck..." I always knew Miranda was crazy, but not at that point. All those years, she had been misleading the villagers, the Lords only for her personal uses. "And who's this person? Where are they?"

"I don't know, kid. This is what I'm trying to find. If I destroy the vessel, there will be no ritual. And with the right proof in hands I can lead a rebellion against Miranda."

"You can count on me," I extended my hand to Heisenberg. "If I discover anything, I let you know."

"Smart girl," he shook my hand. "You'll have my full support if you need to escape that demonic castle."

"She doesn't!" Bela angered. "Mother is letting her go."

"Okay. If you need anything else then..." Heisenberg shrugged. Then he looked at Bela. "What about you, little Dimitrescu girl? Can we count on you?"

"Of course," she also extended her hand. "But you can't comment a word about this meeting with my mother tonight. She trusts Miranda above anything, she's going to blow up our plans."

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's Bedroom - Present Days

While Aleena was taking a shower, Bela caught herself reading the diaries they found. Such a skilled predator should be proud of her achievements. The reports about her family were gruesome, terrifying, tragic. They were called many things, 'witches', 'monsters', 'abominations'...

"Psychotic bitches," definitely the most creative, a name given by Adrian Novak. Bela never had a personal encounter with Aleena's father, but she had definitely heard nasty stories about him, through Lady Dimitrescu and through Aleena herself. She thought of an appropriate nickname for him too and smirked. "Stupid manthing."

She closed the diary and walked to the mirror. Aleena told her to wear one of her clothes. She looked like a normal girl, one of Aleena's age, maybe two or three years older.

If it wasn't for that scar. That damn scar. When she woke up after the transformation, one of the first things she did was asking her mother how she had gotten it. Was it the reason she died? Later, she found out it was the reason why she was still alive. Something had been implanted in her brain, to transform her into... that. What about that tattoo? Young people had tattoos everywhere but certainly not on their foreheads. She was marked as one of the Dimitrescu daughters. Wherever she went, people would recognize her by that. Especially in the village. Countless times she and her sisters had caused panic among those people.

This was why Aleena couldn't take her out for a date. She couldn't take her to the pub, to meet her friends and do other things couples usually did. Bela clenched her fists in rage and frustration.

"Hey," Aleena left the bathroom, wrapped around a towel. "Sorry for taking so long. You look amazing, by the way."

Before heading to her wardrobe, she passed through Bela and planted a small kiss on her lips. She could live like that forever.

In fact, if the weather suddenly changed and the temperature dropped by the next day, she'd be stuck with Aleena in that house for days, months or even years. She could cook and clean the house while she was out for work. She could even find a manner to earn some money herself. She could be an artist and sell paintings. Or maybe a writer, she was a good one. Maybe she even had money already, after all she was the Countess' eldest daughter.

The idea excited Bela a lot... until she looked at Aleena's desk. If she was stuck in that house with her, she'd be giving up on her dreams of living in California and study in that Art Institute. And Aleena deserved that. More than any person she ever met.

It wouldn't last and she knew it. She always knew it.

"Selfish psychotic bitch," she muttered to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's Living Room - Present Days

I couldn't take my mind off my conversation with Heisenberg. I didn't even know how I was supposed to feel. I already hated Miranda before, but now I got the confirmation of the things Bela told me. She was nothing more than an experiment gone wrong and that woman was about to get rid of her and the others. I also thought about Alcina and Donna, who had no idea of what she was planning and trusted her blindly.

I also wondered, who was her perfect vessel? Was it someone from the village? Was it someone she had kidnapped? A million questions were going through my mind.

As soon as I finished getting dressed, Bela had sunk into one of her bad moods, where she became quiet and introspective, after acting normal all day. I already knew her enough to know something happened while I was in the shower and it was consuming her inside. Because as her own mother described, Bela felt everything very intensely.

"Would you like to go back to the castle?" We were in the living room, waiting for our dinner to be delivered. "We can go after dinner if you want."

"No," she said. I had turned on Auryk's video game console. Bela was quite curious about the game I was playing. Her eyes moved quickly as she observed every detail on the screen. "Not yet."

"Do you need to feed?"

"No, I'm okay."

I paused the game. Whatever happened, nothing seemed to distract Bela from it. She was quiet as in the morning she fought her mom or that night in her bedroom, before we kissed for the first time.

"Okay... why don't you tell me what happened? I left you alone in my room for some minutes and now you're upset."

Bela took a deep breath, as if she was trying to recompose herself and leave her emotions aside for the night.

"I'm not upset, love," she told me. "I'm focused."

"On what?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"If you don't move to the left side, like this," Bela took the controller from my hands, unpausing the game and making a move herself. "You're going to get yourself killed."

And she was right. Apparently her vampire senses worked for literally anything.

"Know what?" I turned off the console. "I'm done with this for the night. I already know I wouldn't be able to beat you if we played against each other anyways."

"What a sore loser," Bela finally let out a laugh. Mission accomplished, I was able to get her out of her bad mood.

"We'll see about that later."

"Will we?"

She lay on top of me, staring deeply into my eyes in an attempt to look dangerous. She pressed her lips against mine and I wrapped my arms around her body pulling her as closer as possible. Bela deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue inside my mouth. The way her tongue massaged mine, the way our bodies were moving together, the way my hands were exploring every inch of her perfect body... I was feeling things I had never experienced before. A heat that spread through every part of me. She finished her kiss biting my lower lip, leaving me stunned, breathless.

"I'm sorry, I got too carried away," she said, when we stopped. "We're almost setting ourselves on fire here."

"No, I want more," as I gazed into her beautiful golden yellow eyes, I couldn't be more sure. "I want us to burn."

Bela raised one eyebrow suggestively, as if she was trying to confirm what I had just told her. I let out a small laugh and nodded in confirmation.

"Then..." she pressed another kiss on my lips, "we should head back to your bedroom. Don't you think?"

I was about to give her an answer when the door bell rang. It was the delivery service bringing our dinner.

"Fuck, I had totally forgotten," I took a deep breath, trying to recompose myself.

"We can resume from where stopped later, if you want."

----------

I wanted it. I definitely wanted it, but I was too nervous for my own sake. If I didn't calm down, I'd end up ruining things. I remembered the night I invited a girl I was dating to my house. Even after having a lot of alcohol to calm my nerves and get me in the mood, I panicked. I panicked and locked myself in the bathroom until she went away. Needless to say she never wanted to see me again.

To try to distract myself, after dinner I sat down on my desk, reading carefully a page of the diary in front of me. The calligraphy was barely readable. Apparently that one belonged to my grandfather, Erik Novak, during his teenage years.

"March 13, 1962

The Lycan attacks have intensified during these days. It's almost impossible to even leave the house. My poor sister, Astrid, has been attacked while she was outside tending for the animals. We don't expect her to survive. The infection has spread to her whole body. Father suggested we put an end to her misery. Mother is still hoping for a miracle. We called Mother Miranda for guidance."

I felt a shiver going down my spine. It was almost like I could watch that scene playing in my mind, like a movie. I held the picture of Astrid, her beautiful dark hair and soft facial features. Such a terrible fate she was victim of. Why did my family still insisted on living in that goddamn place for generations after such a tragedy?

"Okay, I finally picked one," Bela emerged in my bedroom. She was in the living room, too amazed by my Netflix account. With so many movie options in front of her, she didn't know where to start. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I closed the diary. "I was just reading an entry while you chose. My grandfather's sister, she was bitten by a Lycan."

"It seems to happen quite often in your family. One of the diaries I read also reported a Lycan attack."

"It's like a family curse. In my generation, it was my mom. But in her case, there was not even time to develop an infection."

Family drama. Nothing related to the clues we were searching for. I decided to not think about anything else related to that village, Auryk or even Miranda for the next few hours. I wanted to enjoy my time with Bela, exclusively.

"So, let's see what you chose, Ms. Dimitrescu."

For my surprise, Bela had picked a Disney movie. I thought it was extremely cute, I was kinda expecting her to choose something classical or even an horror movie.

"Do you like this one?" She asked.

"I love it," I wrapped an arm around her shoulders as we sat down on the couch. "And I'll love it even more now it's the first movie we watch together."

I didn't make any interruptions as we watched the movie. Bela seemed so entertained, so genuinely happy. I remembered she probably had never seen a movie before. I didn't see any TVs inside the castle. If they even had one, they didn't have access to Netflix or any other modern features. I simply enjoyed the sensation of having her in my arms or the sensation of caressing her hair. I learned to appreciate the sound of her laugh more than anything in this world. When we met, I'd rarely hear it and now it was something she did often.

The world was easier when we were alone, just the two of us. Two lonely, misfit and traumatized individuals. Bela seemed to be the only person who understood my feelings, and I was this person for her too.

When the first movie ended, I asked if she wanted to see another one. She told me to choose this time and I picked a romance. With a happy ending.

God, we deserved to have a happy ending too. We both had gone through so much already. I had to stop Miranda. I couldn't let her take Bela from me.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's Bedroom - Present Days

It was already two in the morning when we returned to my bedroom.

"Are you sure your mother isn't going to freak out or anything?" I asked as we prepared the bed. "Cassandra is definitely going to tell her. If she gets mad the claws will come out to play and it's kinda scary."

"As long as the dragon remains inside, we're okay," the corners of Bela's mouth curled up in a smile.

"Dragon?!"

"Nevermind, it's a joke. A myth the villagers invented. Don't worry, I don't think she's going to mind. I told her about us this morning and she took it very well."

"This is quite a surprise."

We lay on the bed and my heart started thundering inside my chest. I wasn't sure if she remembered what we started before dinner and that I had intentions of resuming later.

"I wish we could have this everyday," she spoke softly, when we were face to face. "This is the reason why I was upset."

"Why does it upsets you?" I asked.

"While I was here alone, I kinda wished the temperature would drop and I'd be stuck here with you for a while. Then I realized I was being selfish."

"You're not selfish. To be honest, I kinda wished the same. I don't wanna go away. I want to stay with you, forever."

Bela took my hand, holding it very tightly for a few seconds and then, she released.

"You can't, Aleena. You don't deserve this life, in this place. You deserve more. You deserve to go after your dreams, move to California, go to college, be with a girl that actually deserves you."

"I don't want another girl, Bela. I want you. I want you the way you are, with your virtues and also your flaws. That's what made me fall in love with you."

I'd usually let her take the lead, but this time I kissed her, hard and desperate. I didn't want to think about the idea of being away from her. Or being with somebody else. Even if we couldn't be outside most of the time. Even if I had to work on the pub for the rest of my life. Even if she needed to drink human blood. I didn't mind if my friends or my brother never accepted my relationship with her. In that moment, I had everything I ever wanted and I wouldn't waste it. I couldn't wish for anything else.

When I realized, I felt her hand going down my shirt, caressing my stomach.

"Do you still want to do this?" She asked.

"More than anything."

I knew Bela had probably done that a thousand times before, but I wondered if she was always so tender, so careful. She knew that was an important moment to me, I was letting down the last of my emotional barriers for her, so she acted cautiously on every move she made next.

First, she kissed me again for a very long time. I assumed she was giving me enough time to think if I was truly prepared. Then, her mouth placed a trail of kisses for all the way down to my neck.

We undressed each other, Bela lay on top of me and as she kissed me again, I couldn't stop thinking how good it was the feeling of having her naked body so close to mine. This time, I felt confident enough to explore parts of her I wasn't prepared the last time.

"What?" I asked when we parted and she gazed deeply into my eyes. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"I have something to confess, love," she opened a beautiful smile. "I'm a little nervous too."

"Come on. Mrs. Volkov was scolding me this morning, telling me I was only one of the many women she saw leaving your bedroom."

"Yes, but it's the first time I do it with a woman I'm in love with."

It was my turn to smile. With my hand on her chest, I sensed how quick her heart was beating too.

"Well," I whispered seductively in her ear, "she's very in love with you too. So you don't have to be nervous."

"Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

I nodded in agreement and pulled her face for another kiss. As Bela's hands traveled through my body, caressing my inner tights, I was shivering in anticipation. By the time she touched me where I wanted her the most, my first reaction was to shudder.

"How does that feel?" She wanted to know. "Do you like it, love?"

"Yes!" I threw my head back as her fingers continued to stroke my center. "Oh my god, yes. Please don't stop."

"I don't plan to. We're only getting started."

I was still nervous. I didn't know how I was supposed to act. Should I do something to please her too? Should I be silent? Because I was fighting so hard against the wild impulses inside of me, that wanted to moan and scream Bela's name as loud as I could. I buried my mouth on her collarbone trying to muffle a moan.

"This is okay," she stopped for a second, looking at me with those gorgeous eyes. "Just relax. You're being perfect."

I simply nodded in agreement. I just wanted her to continue what she was doing, but she had other plans in mind...

"What about now?" Bela inserted one finger inside me and started to move, slow and gentle. "Does it hurt?"

"N-No... this feels great..." I could barely form a coherent sentence anymore. In fact, I noticed I had stopped breathing. Yes, I could die right now and I'd die a happy woman. Was that what my father was trying to protect me from with his sick ritual? I couldn't be more happier to have broken his rules. I couldn't be more happier I waited and did exactly I was told to stay away from.

My heart was racing really fast. I felt all my muscles were starting to become tense. Bela inserted another finger inside me, moving a little bit faster and harder, but still making sure she wasn't causing me any pain.

And in that moment, I completely lost myself. My back arched and my whole body started to tremble under her body. Bela held me tightly. I relaxed too, wrapping my arms around her.

"Are you okay, love?"

"More than okay," I answered between pants. "To be honest, I think I've never felt so great before."

"Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"Yes, you can now show me how I can please you."

We switched positions and Bela guided my hand as I tried to follow the same path as she did. She also rocked her hips to meet my rhythm. I wasn't so confident as she was. I was afraid I could do anything that could hurt her. But she was a patient teacher and I was a quick learner. Soon, she was already trembling in my arms too and I knew I had done it right.

I thought we were done with the best part, but I was wrong. After pressing one final kiss on my lips, Bela rested her head on my chest and said words I'd never forget.

"I love you."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x f!oc #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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floatingbook · 3 years

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I've no idea if this is the right place to ask this, probably not but I'm a bit desperate since I've got no one to talk to irl about this. I feel massive, my bmi is considered healthy, people would describe me as average in every aspect, at least from the side. From the front I feel I look like a personified bulldog, an ox, stupid dumb eyes, weirdly shaped mouth, and my face is still kind of my main selling point. I've got big shoulders, broad hips and upper tights, mostly muscle, I done very little to get them. When I went to the gym I built up a bit more muscle and quit immediately it just highlighted everything even more, that stuff luckily went away after a while but only as far as what I gained through the exercises, the rest stayed. I probably would be completely ok with myself if I had grown a bit taller, the proportions would fit a lot better then.

Next to other women (and enough men) I feel like a cartoon character that was placed into the wrong series, a completely other "drawing style" for lack of better words. I hate myself so much, I don't leave the house other than for work and chores anymore, I always feel like a clown. I apologize for the word vomit, but I'm desperate, do you have any suggestions? Anything I could read, listen to?

You seem to have a very skewered perception of your body. From what you have written, you’re healthy and strong, so you have little to worry about health wise? You don’t describe having trouble to carry out any action physically, so you are in good physical condition? And apparently, you get strong fast when you put yourself into it? All of this sound great to me. We often aren’t good judges of wether we’ve put a lot of work into getting things done, so I’m taking your affirmation that you did very little to earn your muscles with a grain of salt. It’s more likely that you have fallen into a habit of discounting your own work. That, and the fact that not all women have the same metabolism. We don’t all built muscle the same way, and in that case you’d certainly be better served by working into looking at it gratefully, instead of putting yourself down for something you’re naturally better at than other women. Life is not a competition, we have different characteristics and advantages from the beginning, and denying it or pretending it has any moral weight does not help you move forward.

You’re not a clown, you very likely look nothing like a bulldog nor an ox. You’re maybe a little on the short side, but a strong woman. You would feel better about yourself if you focused on what you have: a functioning, healthy, strong body, one which allows you to carry out the tasks you want to do. What others think about your face is irrelevant, because 1. you can’t do anything about it (you can’t control their minds) 2. you can’t do anything about it (are you going to get plastic surgery? to switch bodies?) 3. do you really want to hold yourself to the irrealistic standards of social media? there’s nothing genuine about full make-up photoshopped faces and bodies, so your scale of judgement is never going to be satisfied 4. why do you let others have all the power over your feelings about yourself?

Do you judge other women you see in the street like this? Do you think to yourself “oh she’s an elephant”, “oh she has a dog’s face”, “oh her proportions are crazy”? I bet not. You’re walking and worrying about how they judge you. Except they aren’t, just like you they are wondering “does she think i’m too short and too wide?”, “does she think my haircut makes me look old?”, … There are way less people judging you than you think, and for those who do, do you think they obsess over you specifically all day? At worst, they see you, you register in their brain, they make a comment to themselves, and then they move on. You don’t live rent-free in people’s heads. We all have better things to do and bigger fish to fry than ponder the BMI of strangers on the street and then obsess over it for days.

A small exercise to put things into perspective, would you talk about one of your friend like this? Would you disparage her like this? Then why is it acceptable to do it to you? You should treat yourself like you would a friend. You need to be your own friend.

Being short is not a moral failing, it’s just a fact. Being strong, having big shoulders, broad hips, strong thighs and muscle is not a bad thing. It only makes you a normal woman. And we all have to accept that we are just ourselves, nothing more, and that we’ll never be anybody else. There’s no point in wishing you were more like “other women” because it won’t happen, you’re just setting yourself up for lifelong misery. I guarantee you that you are not a cartoon character next to other women. Women have an extensive range of body shapes, we’re not all just carbon-copies of each other with you as the single outlier.

Maybe you’re not looking at yourself enough, or looking at yourself too much with others’ eyes. By the latter I mean that you’re always looking at yourself in mirrors or in pictures, in the reflections in glass windows when you go out. You’re not looking directly at yourself. You’re looking at a distorted, at a filtered image of yourself. You’re looking at something distinct from yourself, something alien. Cover mirrors, stop taking selfies, try to forget that constructed image for a while. Look at yourself with your own two eyes and nothing else if you really have to look. Don’t focus so much on having an appearance while you exist and instead focus on existing. Pretend you’re invisible. Wear your sloppiest clothes on a grocery errand and realise that no one cares. You’re not going to be arrested over it, the cashier is not going to refuse your money for it. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to matter.

You have nothing you need to hate yourself for. You are just a woman, alive. That’s what you should focus on. You’re fine, you’re normal, you’re average, you’re just alive. Push yourself a little, get out there, nothing will happen to you and it will become easier.

If anyone has any reading or listening to suggest, feel free to link it in the notes. But I think that what you need most, here, is to cultivate an attitude of not caring about it. Try to relax about existing. There’s mental reframing to do, certainly, but most important is repeated practise. Go out there and exist.

#answered #anonymous #on appearances #let yourself exist #much love to you anon #i know this is not easy #but there is nothing wrong with you

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 5

Word Count: 5,690

POV: Reader and then switches to Jamie

Warnings: Language, but that’s about it, at least from what I can remember

Notes: So I just want to thank everyone for their patience with me as I took some time off. I’ve still been writing, so hopefully you’ll see your favorite stories pop up here and there. Happy reading!

Sidenote: Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

READER'S POV

"I'm sorry what did you just say?" you asked Emma, as you had to have heard her incorrectly when she said that you should get under someone in order to get over Jamie. "Because, you were there in high school, that didn't work out the best for me."

"That's not what I meant."

"But it is what you said, that I should just go hook up with some random guy. Em, I love you, babe, but I am not going down that path again. I do not need to be known as the doctor that sleeps around."

"Oh my god, would you shut up for one minute?" You went radio silent, after she practically yelled at you through the phone, though you suppose that your voice had gone up maybe a decibel or two. "I didn't mean for you to go fuck some rando at the bar. Actually, I meant…and hear me out before you say anything," she paused and you had a feeling that you weren't going to like what she said next no matter what it was. "I think you should sleep with Jamie."

"WHAT!?!"

"Yeah, that was a little loud. I think you might have woken up Caleb. Shh, go back to sleep babe," you heard her mumble to her husband.

"I'm sorry but are you crazy? Maybe I called you too early and you're not fully functioning without coffee. Or should I call Dr. Kaplan and have him examine you."

"Your neurologist, friend? No." She sounded a bit indignant at the mention that she needed her brain examined for suggesting a thing, but really what were you supposed to think when she made stupid remarks like you should go sleep with Jamie. "I asked you to listen before you passed judgment on me. God, you think you were a judge instead of a doctor so something."

"Well, you have my full attention. So please explain, before I have you committed to the psych ward." She scoffed at you, which only made you say, "You know I can medically do that."

You could almost hear her eyes rolling through the phone. "Yes, but who would you call this early in the morning when you have a problem." She had a point. "Exactly. Now, let me explain. You and Jamie never really resolved anything. He said things, you got upset, he never answered the phone, so you broke it off with him, yadda, yadda, yadda. You get my point." It seemed a whole lot more complicated than a few yaddas. "But there was never any closure for either of you there. It just sort of ended." Emma was right about that, after hearing that he only was seeing you for sex, you didn't want to speak to him at all. "It was obvious then, that he still had feelings for you, even if you didn't want to see it. And don't kill me here, but I think it was obvious that you still had feelings for him as well, and that maybe you still do." You didn't exactly know how you felt about Jamie at the moment, but waking up in his arms did feel right. "Let's face it (Y/N), you've compared every guy you've ever been with to Jamie."

"I have not." Had you?

"Ok, we're skipping all the douches in high school, because you and I both know you never slept with any of them. Yes, I know what everyone said, but I was also your best friend and I know you. The worst you ever did was give Carter Williams a blow job behind the bleachers after a football game." Oh, Jesus, she did not need to go down this road listing all your sexcapades from high school or after that. "I'm talking about Bryan, the perfectly good looking, studying to be a heart surgeon, boyfriend that you gave up for no other reason then you said he wasn't tall enough."

"I did not break up with Bryan because he wasn't tall enough and you know it."

"It was a factor, along with his hair not being dark enough and you hating his sense of humor."

"The man made stupid heart surgeon jokes that not even anyone in the cardiothoracic department got."

"True, but you also told me he was lousy in bed, and I believe that was another complaint you had about Tomas, Dylan…oh and what was his name…you know the one you said that you had to use your vibrator the minute he walked out the door because he couldn't get you off."

"Isaac," you told her and there was a blush creeping to your cheeks. Suddenly, you were regretting Emma being your best friend.

"Yes, Isaac. If I remember correctly that happened more than once with him. How you kept him around for four months is beyond me. You're a doctor woman, you can show him where the clit is, you know? Just take his hand and place it…"

"Thank you, Dr. Emma, I know where my clit is."

"But he didn't," she let out a bark of laughter that was so contagious you had to join in. Once you both calmed, Emma came right back at you about Jamie. "Look, he was your first love and maybe the sex wasn't as great as your sixteen-year-old mind remembers. Maybe you just fuck Jamie and that's all it is, a fuck, or maybe it's more. At least this way, you won't be holding him on some pedestal like he's a Greek god or something."

Maybe she was right and you'd been holding on for fourteen years thinking that what you and Jamie had was this truly magical once and a lifetime thing when in reality all it had been was sex. Let's face it, what your sixteen-year-old self thought was love could've been nothing more than lust. "I never thought he was a Greek god."

"Please, I was always envious about how you had this romantic first time. I mean mine was in the back of Kyle's jeep, and before you say anything he didn't know where the clit was either."

You both giggled again, but then you had to remind her of how things had ended. "It wasn't romantic when he said those things about me."

"He was sixteen (Y/N). I'm not making an excuse, but it's time to build that bridge. Maybe he's changed, maybe he hasn't. I'm not saying for you to give him your whole heart. I'm just saying, find out if what was there, was truly that once in a lifetime love or was it just this idea that you've been holding on to."

"But what if…" you stuttered while Emma waited for you to continue. "What if…I still love him, and he breaks my heart, again."

"(Y/N), that's the chance we all take when we open our hearts to love. You don't think that I felt that way with Caleb? That sometimes I still don't feel that way." She sighed. You could tell she was struggling with how to put her feelings into words. "He could walk out the door and leave me here alone, and my heart would break into pieces, but the love I have for him is so much greater than that fear." She made it sound so easy, but all you could remember was how completely hurt you'd felt when things had gone wrong with Jamie. "I know you're scared, and that's why you've closed your heart off for so long, but (Y/N) I promise you the minute you open it back up, your life is going to be even better than it is. And maybe it's Jamie that deserves your heart and maybe it's not, but you'll never know if you don't try."

"I know," you whispered weakly, for you really did know that. If it wasn't Jamie, it was going to have to be someone eventually, because you didn't want to be alone forever. It was just that gnawing fear in the back of your mind that Jamie would hurt you again as he had before. "I just don't want to break into a thousand pieces again."

"You won't (Y/N), and if you do, I'll be on the first flight to Dallas to help you pick them up." She would be, you knew that for sure because you couldn't ask for a better friend than Emma. "And I'll kick his ass as well." That made you laugh considering that Emma was five foot four, and Jamie was just over six foot. It would make for an interesting matchup, but you knew that Emma would take him down no matter the size difference.

"Thanks, Em."

"I just want you to be happy, (Y/NN); happy and in love, and I just have this gut feeling that Jamie can make that happen." There was only one way to find out, and that was to open up more to Jamie. It wouldn't be easy but after this little talk, you were willing to try. "Now, enough about this, because you're going to follow my advice. So tell me how everything else is going? Do you like work? Is it everything you thought it would be?"

"And so much more." You spent the next fifteen minutes catching up with each other before she kicked you off the phone to go make rounds at the hospital. Despite not having that many patients of your own at the moment, you were still looking after all of Dr. Lundin's. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon when your phone rang, Jamie's name popping up on the screen. For a minute, you thought about not answering it, but then you remembered your conversation this morning with Emma and quickly hit the accept button. "Hey, Jame."

He seemed a bit startled that you answered. "Oh, hey (Y/NN). I was just giving you a call about a couple things."

"Ok, what's up?"

"Well, first off, I found your dress in my bathroom this morning."

"Oh shit, I totally forgot that I left it in there." You'd laid it over the tub last night when you changed, something that you did at home all the time. You had every intention of picking it up before you left, but then you'd fallen asleep and well, it kind of got lost in your mind as you freaked out over possibly having feelings for Jamie.

"It's no biggie. I hung it up in my closet." He paused as if he'd said something wrong. "Just so it didn't wrinkle anymore." Well, look at him being all domesticated.

"Thanks, that's sweet of you. I'll stop over and get it sometime from you."

"Oh, ok or I can bring it over. Whatever is easiest for you. I also wanted to see if there was a good time to reschedule that visit to the AAC? We kind of didn't get to go over my map too much last night. Plus, my artistic skills are a little rusty."

You'd forgotten all about the tour, but it would be a good excuse to spend some more time with Jamie to see where your feelings were. "Let me check my schedule." You switched him to speaker and flipped over to your calendar. "Oh, I'm headed to Jessi's tomorrow night to take her stitches out, so that won't work. Um, let me see about the next day."

"What about tonight?"

"Oh, tonight?" You weren't sure if you were ready to face him just yet, but a little voice, that sounded an awful lot like your best friend, told you there was no time like the present. "Yeah, I can do that. I was just getting ready to leave here in about ten minutes. What time were you thinking?"

"Whenever I'm free the rest of today, so if you just wanted to come straight here; that's fine."

This was really not the timeframe you wanted. You hadn't even taken any time this morning to do anything special with your hair or makeup, as you'd spent too much time talking to Emma. Though it wasn't like Jamie hadn't just seen you with drool on your face, wearing his sweats and your hair a complete disaster. Anything would be an improvement over that. It was that thought that had you saying, "Sounds good. I'll see you in about twenty minutes then."

"Ok see you soon." You hung up and then quickly went to add at least a bit of lip gloss and mascara to your face.

It was about twenty minutes later that you were pulling into your garage and then walking the short distance to Jamie's. This time foregoing parking at his place. He opened the door before you even had a chance to knock. "Hey, (Y/N). How's it going tonight?"

It seemed like a loaded question when he was standing there dressed in a pristine white dress shirt, his chest hair peeking out from where he'd undone the first couple buttons. Suddenly, your mouth went dry. When you were sixteen, Jamie didn't have a hair on his chest. Well, maybe there were one or two that he was awfully proud of, but they really didn't count. This was just another sign of how much he'd changed and grown into the man that stood before you today. You'd hoped he'd changed in other ways as well. "Much better tonight. My feet are all ready for you to give me the grand tour."

"Alright, then let's head out." He had his car in the garage, so you followed him through the house to the SUV. In true Jamie Benn fashion, he came over and opened the door for you. It was something he'd always done when you were younger, as his mom had instilled those gentlemanly courtesies in him. It was weird being in the car with him again. Part of you kept waiting for him to grab your hand and hold it like he used to and you found yourself glancing down every so often at his large fingers gripping the gearshift instead of your hand.

He pointed out different landmarks as you passed and told you that despite what the navigation system said this was the fastest way to get to downtown from your house. The two of you chatted the whole entire time, while the music played softly in the background. "So, you're going to want to use this gate." Jamie was saying right as his playlist changed to a song from the movie Frozen.

"So, are you are an Anna or an Elsa fan?" you teased.

"What?" It was then that he realized what was playing, and quickly changed the song. "I have that on here for my niece."

He pulled into the players' parking spot, "Uh huh, sure Jame. Admit it you like the movie." He shut the car off and you both got out.

"I may have watched it with Soph once," he said sheepishly and your heart warmed at the idea of him sitting there with the little girl watching one of Disney's hit movies. You always knew that he would make a great dad, and having that song just proved it.

You were walking side by side now and you couldn't resist dancing around him, while you sang the lyrics. "Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymore." You were walking backward not having a clue where you were going as you continued. "Come on Jame, sing with me. You know you want to…Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door."

"Stop," he chided but had a grin a mile long on his face.

You twirled around him another time, hands dancing along his arm. "I don't care what they're going to say," you belted out; the words echoing off the cement walls around you. "Let the storm rage on…"

"The cold never bothered me anyway." Jamie sang finally joining you. You bouncing up and down as he sang with you, not paying attention as your eyes were focused on him and not where you were going. He reached out and grabbed you right as you started to trip on a large cord that was behind you. "Careful there Elsa." Your hands went to his chest, your palm resting where his heart was racing, as his slid around your waist and pulled you in close to him. Pressed up against him, you couldn't help the urge that came over you to kiss him; he was just so close, and his eyes were smiling into yours, and it felt like the perfect moment to test the waters out. So, you slid your hands just a little further up his chest, and you raised up on your tiptoes so that your lips were mere inches from him, and then your watch chimed again; the damn thing reminding you to breathe, and the moment was lost.

You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet but still kept that smile plastered on your face. "Thanks for saving me Olaf," you said and tapped his chest, before stepping out of his embrace.

"Olaf? I was thinking more Kristoff."

You tapped your finger on your chin, looking him up and down. "You're right, I was wrong. You're definitely Sven."

"The reindeer?"

"I knew you've watched that movie more than just once with your niece."

You were finally at the door, and Jamie was entering a code to get into the building since there wasn't anything going on at the AAC today. "Ok, you got me, but really Sven?"

"What's wrong with Sven? He's sweet, kind, lovable…" Shit the moment the word came out of your mouth you wanted to take it back. Of course, Jamie was lovable too but you weren't sure you were ready to be the one loving him. There was too much uncertainty in doing that just yet. You coughed trying to cover up the slip of tongue and then added, "He's also oddly quiet when there are people around. Kind of like someone else I know."

He raked his hand through his hair, an action that your fingers longed to do. "I'm only that way around people I don't know…and the media." You knew this about him, of course, because you'd watched a few of his interviews. His answers were always clipped and short, which sometimes gave the impression he was standoffish, but then he would throw a little comment here and there and the real Jamie would come out. "But anyhow, we should be getting on with the tour."

"Lead the way."

JAMIE'S POV

Had she really just called you lovable? Moreover, had she just been about to kiss you? That damn watch of hers kept beeping at the most inappropriate times and it was maddening. Something had changed since she'd practically run out of your house this morning. You weren't sure what, but she'd definitely let her guard down some, and you were all for it. You knew it was going to take baby steps to get back into her heart, but those steps seemed to be coming more and more frequently and you weren't complaining.

You were surprised when (Y/N) agreed to the tour tonight, for you thought for sure that she'd avoid you at all cost after you had fallen asleep with her on the sofa last night. It was the last thing that you intended but she had felt so right in your arms, that you'd just let yourself get caught up in the moment. God, she looked so adorable this morning, hair messy, with her cheeks all rosy from sleeping on you, and then how she was wearing your sweats; there was nothing that you wanted more than to see her like that every day for the rest of your life. Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

The tour around the arena went pretty well. You showed her everything that you could think of, ending the tour in the training room, just as you had the other day. She was taking everything in, noticing that Dave and his crew had implemented all the ideas she had talked about the other day. "Everything look ok?"

"Oh yeah, they did an amazing job." She was opening drawers and checking supplies.

"Well, I guess that's the end of the tour then." You glanced down at your watch to notice that it was almost six o'clock. You were definitely going to hit rush hour traffic. "If we head out now, it'll probably take us an hour to get home. Maybe a little less, if I hurry."

"Oh, do you have to be some place?"

"Um…no. Why?"

"Well, you're all dressed up, thought maybe you had a hot date or something." There was a tremble in her voice that usually wasn't there, and you had to wonder if she asked the question in hopes that you weren't seeing anyone.

"No, no hot date. I actually…" Shit, now it was your turn to get all tongue-tied. "Well, I mean…I thought we could have dinner downtown here and really celebrate your big surgery."

"Oh!" There was a bit of shock in her voice. "I mean last night was perfect. You don't have to take me to dinner, after everything you did."

You raked your hands through your hair again. It was a bad nervous habit, that served as a distraction while you tried to think of something to say. This time there was nothing clever that came to mind. "What if I want to take you to dinner?"

The corner of her lip picked up on the right side of her face, that was the first sign she gave, telling you that she liked the idea. It got you excited that she might just agree, to the plan you had, but then it seemed like she was getting into her head, as she took a moment to think about your offer. "You know what?" It wasn't really a question, so you remained quiet. "Dinner sounds amazing, but only on one condition." You cocked a brow at her, silently asking what that was. "I get to buy."

"Oh no, I asked you out." Oh shit, that came out wrong, you didn't mean it to sound like you'd asked her out on a date, that for sure would scare her away. "Besides my mom would kill me if she found out I let you pay," you quickly added hoping that it would cover up your blunder.

"Hmm," she mused. "I guess we'll just have to see who has the quicker hands when the check comes then." That sure sounded like a yes to you.

"You're on, but I plan on winning."

"We'll see," she said as she headed out the door of the training room. "Now, let me see if I can remember how to get out of here." She led the way out to the car and you only had to direct her one time, which was pretty good considering it took you a week to find your way around the place.

The restaurant was one of the finest Dallas had to offer, and one of the main reasons why you didn't want (Y/N) paying, though you were sure that wouldn't deter her from trying. Being that you weren't sure if (Y/N) was going to say yes to dinner, you didn't have a reservation, though when you slipped the maître d a hundred-dollar bill and your name; you were suddenly shown the nicest table in the place, one that was quiet and out of the way. Conversation between you and (Y/N) flowed easily, as did the wine, though you made sure not to drink too much as you'd be driving the two of you home. It also helped you grab the check when the waiter brought it at the end of the night.

"That's not fair." (Y/N) chided as your long arms reached out and snagged the leather pouch out of the man's hands, who looked a bit taken back by the action.

"You said whoever had the fastest hands."

"Yes, but I clearly had more wine than you, which limited my ability, and now I'm convinced you did that on purpose." She was always so adorable when she pouted, but right now you just wanted to kiss those pursed lips and you were having a hard time holding yourself back from doing just that.

"One of us needed to drive home, but you didn't protest when I poured that last glass."

"Well, it clearly didn't help my motor skills that's for sure. Though please mark it down, that I am paying next time." Next time? So, she planned on going out with you again. You were making more headway than you thought.

You decided to forge ahead while she was in such a good mood, as you were coming close to running out of excuses for the two of you to get together. "And when would this next time be?"

"Um, I'll have to check my schedule, but maybe I could cook you dinner next week. You know as maybe a thank you for helping me." She sat there across from you with this shy little smile playing across her lips. The look all too tantalizing, for it was doing things that it shouldn't to your nether regions.

"Dinner at your place huh? Sounds like an offer I can't refuse." You paid the bill and then the two of you headed out. The drive back was fun, as the two of you continued with your flirtatious banter the whole way home. When you turned onto your street, disappointment reared its ugly head as the night was coming to an end. You wanted to spend more time with her. Hell, if you were being realistic you want her to fall asleep in your arms again so you could hold her all night long. You pulled into the garage, then got out of the car to help (Y/N) out.

"Thanks for everything today, Jame. Including dinner which I was supposed to pay for."

"You know I can run some drills with you to sharpen your hand-eye coordination if you want." There were also some other drills you'd like to be doing with her in the bedroom.

"Well, I may just take you up on that." The two of you were standing in the driveway, not knowing how to end the night. If this was truly a date, you'd walk her home and maybe kiss her, but would she smack you if you tried that now? "I should be getting home. Thanks again for everything." She started down the drive, walking at a leisurely pace.

"Hey (Y/NN)," you called out and she turned back towards you as you trotted up beside her. "Can I walk you home?" She gave you a curious look, and it did sound rather funny considering she lived only two doors down, but you weren't ready for your time with her to end just yet.

You were just about to stumble through how it was just for safety, when she said, "Sure." You smiled at her and the two of you started the extremely short walk to her house. "You know, tonight was a lot of fun."

"Yeah, it really was." You wanted to say it reminded you of old times, but you didn't want to bring up the bad ones that also went with that. "We should do it more often."

"I'd like that." (Y/N) was shocking you at every turn tonight and you weren't sure what mystical force was in the air but you prayed that it didn't go away and make her hate you again. A comfortable silence fell over you both, it was one that you had with her long ago, though back then it was as if you could read each other thoughts. Now, you weren't sure what was going on in that complex mind of hers but if it continued to lead her on a path towards you; you weren't going to question it.

You were just about to her front door, and damn if that didn't feel as if the two of you were speed walking over, even though you were strolling at a leisurely pace. Again, you searched for something so that you wouldn't have to leave her company just yet. "Hey, how's your patient doing? The one who's leg you saved."

"Really great actually. I stopped in right before I left. He's got a long road ahead of him, but he was in really good spirits today."

"All because of you."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"I would." She blushed at the compliment, as you finally made it to the front door.

"Well, this is me." She said with a cute little smile and a shrug of her shoulder.

There was really nothing more you could say to keep you at her front door, so you found yourself saying, "I guess my duty is fulfilled…now that you're safe at home and all."

"So it seems." Was that a hint of reluctance you heard in her voice? Was she as sad to see the night end as you were? "Thanks again, Jame. It was fun." She entered the code to get in the house, unlocking the door and opening it. What she did next almost had you falling over, as she went up on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Jame."

A smile so bright, it could've lit up all of Dallas, appeared on your face, and she ducked inside right as you said. "Goodnight, (Y/NN)." As soon as the door closed, you pressed a hand to your cheek making sure that what had just happened was real and not something that you imagined. It had been real alright, and you felt like you were fifteen again, all giddy at the thought that the girl you liked, liked you back.

Thank goodness, you only lived two doors down as you don't remember how you got back inside your own home, but there you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror grinning like a fool as you looked at the spot (Y/N) had just kissed. Now more than ever, you couldn't wait to see her again. Unfortunately, you had no excuse to call her this time or no definite date of when you'd see her again, just a promise that the two of you would have dinner again soon. While you looked forward to that, you wished that it would be happening sooner rather than later. You'd just have to come up with a plan.

It seemed fate had your back this time though, as the following evening found her knocking on your door. "I hate to do this, but can I come in?" (Y/N) asked as she stood outside in the pouring rain, looking like a drowned rat. Well, maybe not a rat, but a very cute wet puppy for sure.

"Yeah, sure." You said stepping aside as a loud crack of thunder sounded in the air.

"I'm sorry to do this, but the code to the house isn't working and I left my phone, and my bag, at Jessi's when I was taking out her stitches." She stood there dripping wet in your foyer. "If I could just use your phone to call her, I'll run back over there."

"Run? Where's your car?"

"Locked, in the garage. I didn't realize it was going to storm and had just walked over there. I was almost home when it started."

"Let me grab you a towel." You went and grabbed one out of the guest bathroom downstairs, then handed it to her to dry off. "I'll call Jess for you, but you're not running back over there. I'll drive you."

She gave you a smile, before toweling off her hair. "Thank you."

You went to the kitchen to grab your phone and call your soon to be sister-in-law. "Hey, Jess."

"Hey, Chubbs, what's up?" Jess replied.

"(Y/N) locked herself out of the house and I guess she left her stuff at your place. I was going to drive her over so she could get it if that's ok."

There was silence on the other end of the phone and you were wondering if the two of you got disconnected or something with the storm. "Hmmm," she finally mumbled. "I'm going to do you a huge favor here and tell you I'm not home, even though I totally am."

"What?"

"You know I love you, but you're so dense sometimes." How were you the one that was dumb when she didn't make any sense? "Tell (Y/N) that I had to run to a friend's house and you're not sure when I'll be home with the storm. That way the two of you can spend a little more time together."

"Oh," you said as you finally caught on to her plan.

"You owe me one. Tell her I'll call you when I get back, which probably won't be for a while." You'd take all the time that you could get with (Y/N). "If you don't answer, I'll take that as a good sign." You could almost see her winking at you through the phone.

"Thank Jess. You're literally the best."

"I know," she quipped back, then hung up the phone.

You went back out to where (Y/N) was standing in your entryway. "Apparently, Jess took off to a friend's house the minute you left. She said she's didn't realize you left your stuff or she would've dropped it off. She's going to call when she gets back, but it's going to be a bit with the storm."

"Oh," (Y/N) stood there a little shocked, not knowing what to do. "Well, maybe if I go try the code again it will work."

Another crack of thunder, with streaks of lightning, filled the sky. "(Y/N), you are not going back over there in the rain. Just stay here until the storm dies down. They usually pass pretty quick." But then again, sometimes they didn't and this was one you were hoping would stick around for at least a few more hours.

#Jamie Benn #Jamie Benn Imagine #Jamie Benn Imagines #Dallas Stars Imagine #Dallas Stars imagines #Dallas Stars Fanfic #Jamie Benn Facfic #NHL fan fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fanfic #ruined the series

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resinatingbeauty · 3 years

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Witchcraft & Expectations

What do you really expect from the Craft?

I had considered writing this for a while before actually doing it just because I didn't want anyone to feel like they were being attacked or singled out. Offending you isn't the purpose of this post, so please do not be discouraged by anything you read here. There is no wrong way of practicing your Craft and to each their own. I was just curious about perspectives when it comes to your expectations regarding Witchcraft, magick, and spirituality as I have dealt with many different people following many different paths since focusing more on my Craft and art through my shop which began on Mercari and grew enough to become more established on Etsy.

I do sell many spiritual / witchy items from personalized spell kits to witchy mystery boxes compiled with Intuitively chosen and my own handmade, one of a kind items. Among the most popular spiritual offerings are my 'buy one get one miniature spell jars,' which allow my customers to select two general purposes or a personalized request from which I assemble and enchant a miniature glass spell jar containing herbs, crystals, essential oils, and other objects based on their needs and requests. I wanted to make these little portable vessel talismans more available to everyone price and purpose wise, compared to others that have been charged with a more specific intent or devoted to a specific deity.

I have a long history of using spell jars myself for various purposes whenever I feel compelled to create one or a special occasion arises. I'm picky about larger jars and bottles, however, so they are usually created in small corked jars or in larger jars that I will sometimes embellish or try new things to integrate that allow the spell jar to also be an appealing or intriguing piece of handmade everyday decor while serving its spiritual purpose, such as the one in the photo above.

For the most part, I have found a surprisingly amount of success with my spell jars. Not just myself, but others as well have reported events that they thought were directly related to their spell jar. I had created one for my neighbor a couple weeks ago who had been searching for a better job than the one she had at a preschool. The day after I gave her the jar, she received a text from an old coworker who notified her that a position at a bank she had applied at months ago that had nothing available at that time had just opened up.

This actually exceeded my expectations. In my experience, magick takes time. Others who have commented on the success of their spell jars or magick in general would contact me a few weeks or so after using their spell kit or receiving their spell jar. I created a spell jar back in January to help jumpstart my small business selling my crafts and Craft and didn't really start to see a huge change until mid-March-April where I was more successful than even I anticipated.

This was about on par with what I expected in terms of time, as most spells I've ever done have taken days, weeks, or even months to start manifesting results that couldn't be passed off or ignored. To be sure, I include a scroll with each of my kits and jars explaining how they are best utilized, to have patience, how to set a purpose and intentions, the power of thinking positively, and that magick rewards those who are willing to work and make sacrifices for what they desire. To me, all of these things are virtues that this path teaches us and are part of what makes the Craft so empowering overall. Whether it was the spell or your hard work, you are the catalyst for change. You made things happen. I mean, what is more empowering than that?

This is part of the reason why I personally chose to over spell kits and magickal tools rather than offering to cast spells or perform rituals on one's behalf. It was my desire to make YOU feel empowered and you are the one ultimately responsible for your own success or failure, whether spiritually or otherwise. I'll gladly steer you down the road of success and provide you with my knowledge, experience, and guidance, but I am always clear about what to expect.

Unfortunately, we live in a time where instant gratification is anticipated and expected, which I never considered in terms of Witchcraft. I knew that no matter how many times I write 'set realistic expectations, focus on your purpose, be patient, and keep doing what your doing' that some people would just blow through all that hoping that they just bought a quick fix for all their problems for $6.99 + a buy one get one deal.

Two weeks or so ago, I had received an order for said jars from a young man who simply said he wanted a personalized spell jar for lucid dreaming and dream work and selected his second 'free' one for self empowerment. I reached out to clarify and answered some of his questions. My immediate impression from him was one of discord. He expressed a lot of turmoil in his life over the past few months and claimed to have taken on a lot of responsibility. He seemed young and eager, with a ton of questions regarding magick in general. I answered his questions the best I could, but reiterated the same values I expressed in the previous paragraph when asked why such and such spell wasn't working, 'should I not have done this,' etc. Magick takes time to manifest, especially when it comes to financial purposes like he explained which are inherently unlikely to resolve themselves overnight.

He seemed happy enough with his purchase and said as much when he received his package. A couple days later, I received a notification about a review he had left which was negative, saying one of his spell jars didn't work with a message delivered in tandem asking what purpose I had set for his spell jar.

Let me say this: I am not upset with him or complaining about his review. He is entitled to his own opinion, although I was annoyed with how quickly he had come to the conclusion when in the instructions I provided him I specifically said that these things take time to work. Anyone who receives results instantly or within the next day or so are exceeding my own expectations. Which is great! Hooray!

But this is definitely not the standard I've come to expect in all the years I've been practicing the Craft.

I continued chatting with and answering this young man's questions and ultimately uncovered that he was upset about a variety of things that had been going on in his life. In his mind, he felt entitled to have these things work for him sooner rather than later and was frustrated and angry that nothing he tried had been working out the way he expected.

In the time that I have opened my little shop, I have (thankfully) only run into one other person like this- where their understanding of Witchcraft seems to have been compiled from television and movies. After the first, I learned to tread lightly around these individuals because, whether it's their fault or not, they have been mislead.

Television shows like old school Charmed and the newer Salem and Witches of East End are really entertaining. I enjoyed watching them, but they are the absolute enemy of those who practice magick / witchcraft as a form of religion or spirituality. Sure, some of these shows actually do their research. Even Buffy the Vampire Slayer was ahead of its time introducing Wiccans, Technopagans, and New Age practices to pop culture and in many ways helped to show people an obscured version of the truth during the 'Satanic Panic' period when even witches hated being called witches and the pentagram / pentacle difference became an actual difference that wasn't just a choice of words.

Newer generations growing up with Harry Potter, which is hardly a great introduction into magickal traditions, were at least more open minded than the previous generation to the actuality of witchcraft and magick as a spiritual practice.

I mean, who doesn't want to snap their fingers and make the house tidy in one fell swoop?

I sure do. But even when I first started practicing at 11 I understood that that just isn't how it is.

This young man who was saying he lead a coven sounded more like he was LARPing than legitimately asking for spiritual guidance. I realized real quick that I couldn't do anything for him. What he wanted and expected, no matter how many times I referenced the instructions I provided (he evidently hadn't acknowledged) and relayed to him my own experience and expectations, he was looking for that 'quick fix' and someone or something to blame for when it didn't work the way he thought it would. The main reason for his complaint? The night after he received his spell jar, he said he just dreamnt about the moon.

My understanding of lucid dreaming was having direct control over ones dreams. The more I talked to this person the more it became clear that this wasn't his understanding of lucid dreaming. I tried to ask what he had tried to gain that control, as many of you know that I suffered from sleep paralysis for years and taught myself how to realize and 'break out' of it over time. He referenced making offerings to a goddess. I had to stop.

I'm sure that another business minded witch would have sold him something else or offered an exchange. I (stupidly) tried to make him understand that he has the power to manifest his desires. All I did was provide him with a tool to help things along.

This was the same for the woman I had dealt with months ago who said that she had been told by this coven owned business that she was a vampire reincarnated to be with her lover. That was the ultimate end of our conversation because she didn't seem very open to anything I suggested. Whether the things she bought were 'effective' for her or not we will never know. When she started messaging me to the point of harassment I deleted her messages and flagged them as spam. All this time and effort spent consoling someone who really isn't in the right frame of mind for magick or witchcraft.

The main point in writing this ranty post is to get the perspective of the community. What are your expectations for your own spells? What do you tell others when they ask? If you are also a 'witch shop' owner or own your own spiritual practice how do you deal with clients that have set unrealistic expectations for you and your Craft?

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corrupt-fvcker · 4 years

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My Everything (Thor x fem!Reader)

My Everything ( Thor Odinson x fem!Reader )

Request: can you do something like thor gets self-conscious from all the weight that he gained from endgame and reader comforts him.

Prompt: #93 from angst/fluff list - "you're more than that."

Warnings: angst, fluff/comforting, low body image

Word Count: 2.2K

Authors Note: i wrote this years n years ago, please don’t judge :,,,)

It was no secret that Thor had had a rough past couple of years. He'd suffered through the loss of his mother, father, sister, best friend, brother, and half of the universe within the span of a few years. Prior to all of the death and destruction, Thor was truly content with his life. He was to be the ruler of Asgard after his father, a great honor that Thor looked forward to. He was considered a hero to both Asgard and Midgard, loved by all. But most importantly, he was loved by you. His sweet Y/N, the love of his life that he had somehow luckily managed to woo after decades of showing off his looks, combat skills, and intelligence. You were perfect in his eyes, an angel that had blessed him with its love. You were his everything and he was yours, and together the two of you were to spend an eternity ruling Asgard hand-in-hand.

But then everything fell apart. His mother's unexpected death alongside his sister destroying the kingdom the two of you were supposed to rule was only the beginning of the pain. Thanos murdering the Asgardian refugees as well as Heimdall and Thor's brother Loki.

Then all Thor had left to cling onto was you, his precious wife. And with you by his side, Thor could make it. He could recover from the pain he endured. He could survive as long as he had you.

But then he lost everything; he lost you.

He lost you as tears streaked down your cheeks, your glossy eyes gazing up at Thor with a painful mixture of admiration and fear while your body turned to ash in Thor's arms. You were Thor's everything, his whole world, but in the end, he couldn't save you. And the worst part of it all was that it was all his fault. It was his fault that he lost the love of his life and all he could do in the end was hold you in his arms, watching you wither away in an instant.

And once Thor had truly lost everything, he was nothing more than a shadow of his old self. He just slowly faded away into someone else, not able to stand his own reflection. He didn't want to be Thor Odinson anymore, he hated Thor Odinson. Thor was the god that Asgard perished because of. Thor was the man that was responsible for half the deaths of the universe. Thor was the husband of Y/N, the innocent woman that had died because of Thor.

Thor didn't want to be himself anymore, so he became someone else.

Every single thing Thor Odinson was, he did the opposite. He stopped grooming himself, letting his hair grow out and become long matted locks that matched his unruly beard. He stopped leaving his home, staying in the dark on the couch playing video games and watching television. He stopped dressing himself, staying in the same pair of sweats and t-shirt for days at a time. He stopped caring, doing nothing but eating, drinking, and playing video games as the pounds added on and his mental health became an utter mess.

Thor knew that if you were alive, you would've never let Thor treat himself in such a manner. You would've kicked his ass off the couch and make him do something productive. But the thing was that you weren't alive, you were gone and so Thor wasted away.

But Thor was better now, so much better. It had been two months since the universe had been restored, which meant Thanos was dead and you were back in Thor's arms.

And despite everything, the pain others and he had inflicted on himself, Thor would be okay. Thor knew that he could recover from everything with your support. He was slowly accepting the deaths of his friends and family, but the hard part was accepting his own mistakes. Thor was angry with himself, angry of how he acted once Thanos had snapped his fingers. He was angry that he didn't keep fighting, he hated how he gave up so easily. And now he was paying for his mistakes along with you, which was something Thor would have a difficult time forgiving himself for.

To begin with, Thor looked like a hot mess. You had helped him cut his hair and trim his beard which had helped a lot, but he still wasn't the same. He couldn't fit in his Asgardian armor, leaving him in sweats and sweatshirts. And he was struggling to lose the excess weight that he had put on in your absence, something that he found rather embarrassing.

It certainly didn't help that you truly looked like a goddess. In Thor's eyes, you were perfect in every way. Every curve and valley of your figure was absolutely perfect, mesmerizing Thor every time he caught a glimpse. Your hair was always flawless, framing your face in all the best angles. And your figure looked as if it had been made to fit in traditional Asgardian gowns, the fabric always comfortably hugging your stunning frame.

You were stunning in every way while Thor somedays couldn't even see his toes.

You and Thor sat in your quarters on the Benatar, you were reading a book as Thor was lost deep in thought. The back of your head was resting on Thor's chest, Thor's arm slung over you and his thumb rubbing small circles on your stomach. Despite loving you so close to him, Thor couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He wondered if you could feel his pudginess beneath all the clothing, he wondered if it disgusted you; if he repulsed you.

Come to think of it, it had been quite some time you and he had been intimate. There was lots of cuddling, some lingering kisses, and a few suggestive touches, but apart from that, nothing. Thor knew that you were tired, moving in with the Guardians wasn't an easy transition. Not that it needed to be said, but the Guardians were a lot different from the people on Asgard. But it had been nearly four weeks since the last time anything sexual had conspired between the two of you, and Thor was convinced that your reasons for being distant had to be more than exhaustion. Thor was sure that he revolted you.

You could sense Thor's uneasiness despite your back being to him, you looked up from the pages of your book and set it down on the sheets. You shifted in place, sitting upright and turning to face Thor. You met his stare, your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you took in his almost scared facial expression.

"Thor?" You uttered softly, reaching out and place your hand on top of his. He interlocked your fingers hesitantly though his grip on your hand was firm. "Are you alright?"

Thor swallowed thickly before nodding his head, a small smile curling his lips as he puffed out a tiny laugh. It was a weak facade but it was all he had to offer. "Of course, darling. Why wouldn't I be?"

Of course, you saw right through his lame attempt of a lie. You pressed your lips together into a grimace, leaning forward to cup his face. "Thor, please, tell me what's wrong."

Thor practically melted into your gentle touch, your hands so smooth against his stubbled cheek. You always had a way with Thor that made him putty in your hands. Thor believed that you had spent too much time with Loki, the god of mischief's skill of shaping words must've worn off on you because Thor was totally encaptured whenever you spoke.

Thor gazed into your E/C eyes, a sudden rush of tears sudden brimming his eyes. You were so beautiful, you would surely leave him.

You stared back at Thor with concern, you could see the pain on his face. You studied his face, smiling softly. He was so beautiful, his mismatched eyes framed with smile lines that reminded you of the centuries of fun the two of you had experienced together. Norns, you were so lucky to have him in your life.

"Thor," you whispered, leaning forward and pressing a quick innocent kiss to his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Y/N..." Thor started in a sigh, dipping his head down in shame as he avoided your gaze. "Do you still love me?"

You couldn't help but be offended, a sharp twist of hurt ripping through your heart. You openly frowned, your eyebrows furrowing. "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

Thor didn't answer at first, letting out a shaky breath. He was embarrassed to say the least, not even wanting to continue to conversation. He felt stupid, like an idiot begging for love from a person that he didn't deserve.

Though Y/N was not going to let Thor's behavior continue. She tilted his face up to level with hers, his gaze forced to meet her worried eyes. The raw emotion the filled them was clear as day, but Thor's insecurities clouded them from his view.

"Why would you?" Thor finally replied in a weak voice that didn't fit Thor's character. "I mean look at me, Y/N, I'm nothing more than a coward. I'm disgusting and now you're stuck in a marriage with a coward."

You let out a short breath from your nose, trying to process the lies Thor had just dumped on you and come up with an answer.

A tear slipped from Thor's eye when you didn't respond immediately, he knew you were about to leave him. This was your chance to take an escape pod to the nearest planet and forget about him. But you didn't move from your spot beside Thor, instead, you just stared at him. It was almost a glare, but you weren't angry.

Thor dropped his head, another tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm a coward," he repeated in a broken whisper.

"Don't you dare say that," you almost growled, upset that your beloved husband would even think such things. "Don't you dare call yourself a coward when we both know that you're so much more than that."

Thor met your gaze, still not believing your words. "After the snap, after I lost you, I quit. I didn't do anything but feel sorry for myself. I should've kept fighting, I should've stayed strong -- but I didn't. Instead, I got drunk and distracted myself just so I could ignore the pain I felt. I was a coward, Y/N. I should've kept fighting, but I didn't."

"You had lost everything," you said in a firm tone, holding both of his cheeks in your hands. "You lost everyone and everything you cared for. You got the worst of it all. You were lonely and in pain, you were trying to heal yourself the only way you knew how. You are not weak and you're certainly not a coward. You are strong, you came back and because of you, I'm here. I'm here now, Thor. You saved me. You are not a coward. You're my hero and my husband and the love of my life, but you're more than that too. You're my everything, Thor. I love you with my entire soul, don't you know that?"

Thor couldn't help but feel a sense of relief from your words. Despite him still not one hundred percent believing everything you said, he was convinced that you loved him. And that was enough for Thor at that moment, to know that he still had you.

Thor didn't know how to phrase his next insecurity, so he just tried to muster through it. "Doesn't it bother you how much I've changed?"

Y/N smiled, leaning forward and pressing a loving kiss to Thor's lips before pulling back, staring into his eyes. "Thor, I love you no matter what. Everything about you is amazing to me. You're handsome, sexy, beautiful, and so much more. So no, it doesn't bother me how much you've changed because I will always think you're the most handsome man in the universe."

Thor huffed out a breath he had been holding in. "I love you so much, darling."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband as he pulled you into his chest. He held you, your head resting in the crook of his neck and his chin resting on the top of your head. You pressed a few kisses on his neck and jaw, feeling nothing but safe in Thor's arms. "I love you too."

Perhaps there was a lot more that would need to be said, Thor's scars running too deep for your words and kisses to fix alone. But at that moment, with you in Thor's arms and your words of love swimming in Thor's head, everything was perfect.

━ ━ ━ ━

A/N: tysm for reading <33 chubby thor is supreme thor 😌 this was originally posted on my wattpad @ corrupfvcker :)

#thor x reader #chubby!thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #fat!thor x reader #chubby thor x reader #endgame thor x reader #endgame #avengers #marvel #reader insert #self insert #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #drabble #thor #thor odinson #my writing

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chronicallylatetotheparty · 3 years

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Scarlet Fever Ch.15 Emily Agreste (Part 1)

Summary: Endings and Beginnings.

Notes: Boy those were a lot of loose ends to tie up.

Ah, Emilie does Not make an appearance. It's more because she represents family.

------------------------

"I didn't realize you felt so overwhelmed until Princess Justice pointed it out."

"Yeah, but I didn't realize how much you were struggling until I found out who you were."

"It's not like I would have let you in even if you asked."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask."

"You were just following the rules."

"Lot of good that did, huh?"

"... I hate how much I failed you with the Snake."

"I'm sorry I put you in that position."

"I didn't say no."

"Adrien, if you showed up and said you trusted me with a Miraculous I would've jumped for joy!"

"Believe me. I was tempted."

"I never should've let you sacrifice yourself for me."

"From what I remember you usually didn't have much say."

"Exactly! You got hit because I couldn't get out of the way in time!"

"That's not how I see it."

"You getting hit was never okay."

"Better than the alternative."

"Not to me."

Adrien stared at the ceiling that still felt too close as the dream, or memories rather, faded. As tempting as it was to stay in bed and go back to sleep the blinds were pulled and sunlight was streaming in. And he was cursed, as his friends put it, with being a morning person.

Making his way to the restroom Adrien splashed water on his face and ran his wet hands through his hair to fix his bedhead. Combing it into his usual style. He paused, staring at his reflection in the mirror... At the model perfect look Gabriel had insisted on for years... Adrien ran his fingers through it, ruining it. Letting his locks fall in a decidedly Chat Noir-ish manner.

A knock on the bathroom door pulled Adrien out of his thoughts. "Bro, breakfast!" Nino called.

"Be right out!" Adrien hurried through the rest of his routine. His hair the only significant difference.

Plagg phased through the wall. "I dunno, Adrien," he started without preamble. "Turtle boy's kid brother is quite a handful."

Adrien smiled, scratching at the kwami's chin. "You're a handful too, Plagg."

"Yeah, but it's different when I do it!"

Chuckling, Adrien offered his pocket and Plagg flew in. Grumbling about tiny humans.

"Sleeping Beauty!" Nino exclaimed as Adrien sat next to him.

Pressing his lips together Adrien gave his best friend a mock glare. "That is not catching on."

"Oh, yes it is dude!" Nino stuffed his grinning mouth with baghrir. Butter and syrup almost dripping onto him.

Lips twitching into a smile despite himself Adrien reached for his own. "Where's Noël?"

"Folks took him to school," Nino replied around a mouthful.

"Yes!" Plagg flew out of Adrien's pocket and made a beeline for the fridge. "Camembert here I come!"

Shaking his head in fond exasperation Adrien ran a finger absentmindedly along the rim of his plate. M. and Mme. Lahiffe were kind enough to offer their home and let Nino take a few days off school. Nino insisted he think of it as an extended sleepover but... "I wanted to thank them for-"

Suddenly, Nino was leaning against him and wrapping an arm around Adrien's neck, pulling him close. "Dude, that's the fifth time you've said that."

"I'm just really grateful!" Adrien insisted, pushing him off.

"Believe me. They know."

Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. The Lahiffe household was more than he could've hoped for. Especially with everything on the news. Gazing at Nino, the memory of a glowing purple butterfly came to the forefront. "To you too. For what you did."

Eyes widening for a moment Nino adjusted his cap, cheeks darkening. "What're best friends for?"

Adrien smiled softly. Tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "You are the best. Y'know that, right?"

Nino wrapped his arms around Adrien in a proper hug. "Back atcha, bro."

Returning the gesture, Adrien held him tight as his heartbeat spiked. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"Flatterer," Nino scoffed.

"Always."

Clearing his throat, Nino removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Eat up, dude! Don't want to keep the Gorilla waiting. We got a big day ahead."

"...Yeah," Adrien agreed. "We do."

----------

"Don't be bemused! It's just the news! The trial of the century is coming to a close. Disgraced fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, who's terrorized Paris as the supervillain Papillon for the past two years, will finally face justice. The crown court is expected to reach their verdict later today. His son, fifteen year old Adrien Agreste, could not be reached for comment-"

Marinette pressed mute and turned away from the living room television. She hated that they had to mention Adrien like that. Like being Gabriel's son was the only description that mattered. Still, maybe she should bake Nadja some pastries as a thank you for pushing back against the idiots who wanted to lump Adrien in with Gabriel.

As a parent, as a reporter, Nadja had torn into anyone that even suggested Adrien was anything except a victim of his own father. On live television no less!

Just the memory of the press conference Ladybug called for the specific purpose of vouching for Adrien made her blood boil. If only they knew. Ungrateful jerks.

Tikki looked up from her place on the table, brow furrowing at her holder's tension. "Are you alright, Marinette?"

Sighing, Marinette glanced back at the screen. Slowly unclenching her fists. They were showing footage of his testimony again. "I'm worried about Adrien."

"Of course you are." Sabine set a plate of macarons next to Tikki. Who took the liberty of grabbing one. "That young man is going through something terrible very publicly. No wonder you're worried about him."

"Maman!" Marinette covered her face with her hands. "Saying it out loud doesn't make it better!"

Sabine gave her daughter a bittersweet smile. "Beating around the bush won't help."

Marinette groaned into her palms.

"But," Sabine continued, placing her hands on Marinette's, "you and all his other friends are making sure Adrien doesn't go through it alone."

Lowering her arms, Marinette looked down. "I... haven't been doing much, really."

"Marinette!" Tikki scolded. "What you've done for Adrien isn't nothing! You've talked to him, listened to him, been there for him. You're doing everything you can, Marinette!"

Sabine nodded, taking a seat next to her daughter. Holding their hands in her lap. "Even Ladybug has limits."

Marinette's mouth twisted ruefully. "I know."

"You know it here." Sabine tapped Marinette's forehead. "But here," Sabine pointed at Marinette's heart, "still has to catch up."

Her eyes stung as Marinette let herself fall into her maman's embrace. "I wish I could do more."

"Oh, honey." Sabine kissed her forehead. "I am so proud of the compassionate young woman you are. But you can't fix everything. More importantly it isn't your responsibility to fix everything."

Marinette opened her mouth to protest but Sabine laid a finger on her lips.

"She's right, Marinette." Tikki floated up to nuzzle against her holder's cheek. "What you're doing is already enough. More than enough. You're so kind to everyone else. Be kind to yourself."

Marinette didn't know when her tears fell but it didn't matter. For the first time since she donned the mantle of Ladybug, Marinette let herself be a girl crying into her mother's arms.

----------

"Marinette!" Alya almost knocked them both over as she squeezed a little too tightly. "It's been forever, girl!" Noticing the red in Marinette's eyes she frowned. "You okay?"

Marinette nodded. "I'm fine," And it didn't feel like a lie. She smiled at Alya's familiar worry. "It's only been a day."

"Like I said, forever."

Tikki poked her head out of Marinette's purse. "Good morning, Alya."

Eyes sparkling, Alya restrained herself from gushing. "Tikki!" she whisper-shouted. Mostly. "Good to see you. Any chance we'll be meeting your friends again?"

All things considered Alya had taken Marinette being Ladybug rather well. She had been more concerned with why Marinette was akumatized and how she could help. It was a relief, really. That Marinette didn't need to lie to her best friend anymore.

"I'm sure Trixx would be happy to." Tikki smiled at Alya's enthusiasm.

"If Fu ever lets go of that box again," Sabine muttered. She waved goodbye to Tom who was left in charge of the bakery.

"Maman!" Despite weeks of her mother being very vocal about Master Fu's flaws Marinette was still scandalized by her critique of the Guardian.

"Don't 'maman' me. You know it's true. The only reason he didn't take back all of his fancy jewelry is because Oblivio helped us out." Sabine smiled at Alya.

Cheeks darkening, Alya smiled back. It felt odd to be praised for something she used to be ashamed of.

Marinette gently squeezed her arm. "Thanks for that."

"Hey, you used the Butterfly. Me and Nino just aimed." Alya wasn't sure how hard it was to tweak Oblivio's power so they could target specific memories instead of erasing everything at once. But she wouldn't have wanted anyone besides Marinette on the other side of the telepathic link.

There were a lot more people that needed their memories adjusted than Alya thought. Sure, Gabriel and Nathalie needed to forget who Ladybug and Chat Noir were. But there was also everyone in the locker room when the akuma swarm came.

Marinette bumped playfully into Alya, lips twitching into a smile. "Never thought I'd be glad to see Oblivio again."

Alya wrinkled her nose. "That makes three of us." Looking from right to left to make sure no one was in hearing range Alya leaned in close. "I can't believe you have a superhero therapist!"

"Eh, not the weirdest thing to happen this month." Marinette was just glad she didn't need to keep Ladybug a secret from someone else.

"Did you, y'know, use Ladybug for that?"

"Actually, it was Adrien that got us an interview with her in the first place."

Before Alya could respond Kagami's car turned the corner. The door opening for them as the driverless vehicle pulled up to the curb.

"Marinette, Alya, Sabine," Kagami greeted as they all piled in. "And Tikki," she added as the kwami floated out of Marinette's purse. "...Where is Anansi?"

"Kicking butt. She's a kickboxer," Alya elaborated at Kagami's confused look. "Can't reschedule this time. Has to fight or she forfeits."

Kagami nodded in understanding. "Your sister is smart enough to know that one does not back down without giving it your all."

Marinette straightened as Kagami's eyes landed on her. She thought that might be referring to something besides fighting but it was hard to tell. Reading Kagami was always difficult.

"I can't believe I'm finally going to meet the Guardian!" Alya exclaimed. Sabine's sentiments barely putting a dent in her enthusiasm. "You think he's up for answering a few thousand questions?"

Kagami smiled despite herself. Her phone chimed and she frowned at the text. "We have to make a stop first."

----------

Nino hugged Alya and fist bumped Kagami. His eyes were tense despite the smile he gave them. "Hey, Mari."

Marinette's brow furrowed. "Nino." She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Is he...?"

Nino nodded, pointing his thumb behind his back. "Up ahead."

Taking a deep breath Marinette stepped into the cemetery proper.

The Gorilla was standing guard as usual. Spotting her, he gave Marinette a nod and let her pass. Walking further away to give them some privacy.

Adrien was standing rigidly in front of Emilie's grave.

What should she say? What could she say? Marinette cleared her throat. "Nino says you didn't want to have a funeral?"

Adrien shook his head, the first sign that he noticed her presence. "We- I already buried her once. Mourned her once. It's... not exactly easy the second time but..." He took a breath. It was shaky. "Um, the lawyer read me her will." His voice shook too. "M-maman didn't want- Sh-she didn't want..." Tears built up in his eyes. "What Gabriel did to her!" They flowed freely down his face. "Maman wanted to rest."

Marinette rushed forward and pulled Adrien close, letting him bury his face in her shoulder.

"Sh-she wanted to rest!" His voice broke as he breathed out the words.

Pushing down the disgust she felt towards Gabriel, Marinette focused on the boy in her arms. Rubbing circles into his shaking back. Soothing him, being there for him. Letting him spill his tears without comment. His breathing slowly evening out.

Sooner than she expected Adrien straightened, wiping at his eyes. "Thanks, I... I needed that."

Marinette swallowed. "A-anytime."

Adrien had cried more in the past few weeks than he had in the past year... That probably wasn't healthy. Something else to tell his therapist. "God. One of these days I'm going to stop crying on you!"

"I hope not," Marinette's mouth said before her brain could overanalyze it. Her eyes widened. "I mean- I don't want you to keep crying! That is- You can cry however much you want! Wait, no, I mean-"

Adrien smiled fondly at the familiar sound. The vise in his chest loosening its hold.

"Don't laugh at me!" Marinette pouted.

That only made his gaze soften further. "I missed you."

Pink dusting her cheeks, Marinette turned to avoid looking at him directly. "I missed you, too."

"I've just been so busy," he began.

"With the trial," she nodded.

"And therapy."

"And figuring out the next step with Master Fu."

"And it felt awkward, y'know?" Adrien gestured vaguely.

"To text or something," Marinette agreed.

Adrien blinked as he realized something. "Has it really been a week since we saw each other?"

"Eleven days," Marinette responded immediately. "But! Uh, who's counting?"

"It's odd not fighting akuma with you." Adrien fiddled with his ring.

Marinette's hand instinctively went to one of her earrings. "Not as odd as you being out of school for so long."

Adrien gazed up at the sky, thoughtful.

"... Are you coming back?"

"... Yes." The decision came to him easily. "All of you guys are there. My therapist thinks it's a good idea to be close to my support network. And Chloe's already offered to pull some strings so I'm not swarmed by paparazzi every day."

"So weird for Chloe to use her evil powers for good," Marinette muttered.

Adrien's lips twitched. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that."

"She probably wants to attach a helicopter pad to the school roof," Marinette joked.

"I talked her out of it."

Marinette choked a bit at that. Glancing at Adrien, she could see the tension he had when she first walked up to him was all but gone. His smile came easier. But... "If you needed to come here you could've said so. You made Nino worry."

"Ah." Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't know I needed to until this morning."

Ignoring the little voice in her head that panicked at the thought, Marinette grabbed Adrien's hand. His fingers curling around hers. "So you're not just avoiding the meeting we have with the Guardian?"

"Well," he finally grinned. "That too."

"He's not going to take Plagg away, you know. Maman won't let him."

"Ha! No, I don't think she would." Adrien gazed at Emilie's name carved in stone. "... You go ahead. I'll catch up."

Reluctantly, Marinette squeezed his hand before letting go. There was something else she wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. Not taking her eyes off him until she passed the Gorilla.

Adrien turned back to his mother's grave with a bittersweet smile. "That's her. Ladybug. She's incredible, you'd like her. Stubborn, driven, intelligent. Couldn't ask for a better partner..." He placed a hand on the stone. "I wish you could've met her."

Floating out of Adrien's pocket Plagg laid his paw on top of the boy's hand.

"This is Plagg. He's a smug little troublemaker but that's part of his charm."

Plagg might've commented on Adrien's own troublemaking tendencies if this were any other circumstance. As it was Plagg just nuzzled against Adrien's hand.

A thought took root in Adrien's mind. "...Plagg?"

Ears twitching, Plagg looked up at his kid.

"Can... Can she hear me?"

Oh. Oh.

Plagg hated that question. The answer was never enough. Never as simple as yes or no. Over the centuries he'd lied through his teeth to ease his holders' burdens.

Adrien waited for his answer with trusting, patient eyes.

He swallowed the easy falsehood, burning his throat as it went. "I'll make sure she gets your messages," Plagg promised, ears drooping.

And for the first time in ten thousand years Plagg's holder simply nodded. "Thank you."

"...C'mon, kid," Plagg urged when Adrien didn't say any more. "They're waiting for you."

Sniffling, Adrien rubbed his eyes. "Y-yeah. Right."

Nino hugged Adrien tightly, practically squeezing the air out of his lungs. Kagami was little better. It was impressive how threatening she sounded while prompting Adrien to take care of his mental health. Sabine, by comparison, gave soft hugs and gentle encouragement.

Adrien loved all of it.

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#ml fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml #miraculous ladybug

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