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#would never hand me assignments or anything directly he would make other kids HAND ME BACK MY HOMEWORK
pandoramyst · 1 year
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Do you think you can write a fic where Neteyam's mate is a really good cook, and that she's really shy and gentle and especially likes to knit after learning about it from the humans? In this case, a few Na'vi woman (likely the parents) talk about how they can't believe the future Olo'eyktan just chose a mere cook to be his mate. (For some reason, I believe that discrimination against one another is common around Na'vi if they feel that person is unworthy of another) reader happened to hear it so she's been tired and distracted by it to the point she directly burn her hands with boiling, piping hot water that got Kiri worried but she quickly assure that it's nothing before proceeding to cool off her hands in the woods. This ain't the worst yet, the worst part happened when she witnessed Neteyam's presence with one of the Na'vi girl who's happened to be talent in everything, and that they look really great together. Reader at this point is depressed, she locks herself in with her human friends, ignoring everyone else. Neteyam's been worried about her, his heart broken entirely when he learnt from Trudy that his mate could only sleep if she feels accomplished of something she did in a day, so that Trudy, Norm, Max and the other scientists been trying to cheer her up. Neteyam asks to see his mate for a while, but Trudy push him back saying, "Kid, I know, this is not your fault. But it still happens because of you, so now, you're gonna be the one fix this up. It's not up to you, it's just have to." Leading Neteyam to head back to the tribe to figure out what's wrong, and when he learnt out that others been discriminating his mate (including the one his mate witnessed him standing with while they're actually just exchanging plans), he directly went straight to them and question and shut them down. After that, he continues to stay close around his mate, but never appears in front as she's still healing, and that he doesn't wanna ruin it. One day, just one day, while Neteyam stands around a bit faraway from his mate, she calls her out, and says she wishes to see him. Neteyam hesitates, so his mate slowly approaches him, he didn't back away as she lays her hands on his face, whispering, "I'm sorry, Ma Teyam. " At this point, Neteyam's the one break down and he keeps apologizing to her and he finally realize how worse one's depression could be
Now this is getting too long and detailed, but it would really mean the world to me if you could do this🙏🙏🙏 You can decide if u want to make it a series or just one shot where Neteyam & his mate confessing and apologizing to each others. I just want some angst -> fluff happiness. Tq!
(thank you for the suggestion bby! school is finally over so I have time to do this, and I also love the way you think....<3 NOT PROOFREAD :()
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it wasn't anything unusual. the sly articulation in their voice as they subtly comforted you for being ordinary when you announced an accomplishment, rather than celebrating with you. it was why you stopped making an effort at making friends.
you weren't particularly dependent on others to provide you happiness but at times it got slightly irritating.
"this does not look right, trudy" you pouted while looking down at the gooey, buttery mess you had concocted in the mixing bowl.
trudy was your only friend really. she was the only one that made the effort to connect with you and was the only one honest. she introduced you to max and norm who welcomed you with open arms, unlike others.
she tsked and looked up at you, "why are you questioning it? just keep mixing" she chuckled and you rolled your eyes, an action you caught from trudy's body language that you had assumed was to express annoyance.
she would constantly visit you in the forest whenever she was assigned a "mission" and would subtly drag you back to the base to teach you new things.
once you had entered her room unannounced and you caught her sitting on norm's crotch. Not understanding the peculiarity of it, you continued your rant about how you had tried baking banana bread for the 6th time and could still not get it.
"Jesus, close the door!" she yelled before falling face flat on norm's chest, you was very obviously embarrassed.
later on she went to explain that knocking is a very important gesture, a gesture of respect. and you surely took note of that as you did it on every closed door.
"it's open!" trudy yelled from behind the door and confused, you knocked again as you were sure the door was still closed. she kept yelling commands from the other side of the door but you answered with a knock on every single one.
she finally appeared in front of you, opening the door with force.
"I told you to come in,"
"you also told me to knock," you answered and her face fell on to her hands in helplessness.
-
trudy helped you carry some knitting equipments piled up in a wooden basket into your hut in the middle of pandora as you had picked up knitting as a hobby.
"thank you trudy! will you come back to see what I made?" you excitedly clapped your hands as she set the basket of stuff onto the floor.
she laughed and comfortably placed her hands in her pockets, "I assure you ill be there, bro" she said and you quirked your head to the side in confusion. bro? "never mind," she shrugged off your confusion and at that exact moment the flap of the hut was lifted and the room suddenly got brighter.
"hey trudy," neteyam's voice projected towards where you two were and his hand wrapped around your waist instinctively.
she lifted her head up and announced that she had to head home. when she left neteyam bent down slightly to place a kiss on your lips. his scent was filling your space very quickly. you put a hand on his chest, nudging him to back up.
"go," you pouted and he sent you a confused glare, his one eyebrow forming a funny looking line.
"thought you would be excited to see me," he looked away dramatically and you reached up to pull his lips back down to yours. pulling away you smiled at him.
"I have to plan a surprise, you can't see it," you chuckled and he nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"I see, well i'll be on my way then" he squeezed your hand once more and let go of you, exiting the hut. you hurried to open the bags up, pulling out knitting needles and some fabric. you made yourself comfortable on the carpet and relied on your muscle memory to guide you.
hopefully the lessons with trudy paid off...
-
you weren't even halfway done when you showed up at trudy's door, demanding for her assistance. she gladly took the needles in her hand, demonstrating for you.
you were sat in front of a window, chatting about various things, anything you should and shouldn't say. the needles were back in your hands and you smiled proudly at the piece.
staring back into the green, you played a game with yourself to spot neteyam. obviously, in the back of your mind you knew it would be impossible as all you could see was splotches of blue. but surprisingly, he was spending time closer to the facility so his silhouette was easy to spot from afar.
he was sitting next to a woman, who had her hand on his knee. she was laughing obnoxiously at something, probably not even that funny. neteyam didn't have a distinct expression, he was just sitting there listening to whatever she had to say.
were you jealous? yes. she was an attractive woman and if memory serves she is a very skilled huntress, unlike you who didn't have a particular skill.
"trudy open the sound system," you asked her calmly. the sound system was something she had put in place a couple of years back in order to be able to hear any unrecognizable sounds, perhaps from new species in the pandora forest. she could turn it on from her bedroom and could hear through a speaker every sound in the outdoors.
"kid, I dont think-" she tried to object but I quickly cut her off.
"please trudy," she reluctantly walked towards the switch and turned it on. a high pitched noise was projected across the room before a loud voice was heard from the sound system.
xura.
"my father would definitely be very satisfied," she rubbed his chest and batted her eyelashes. he stuttered as he tried to come up with the right words. she made him nervous? you wondered as trudy stood beside you, cautiously watching over your facial expressions.
"I can't do that xura, im with y/n." he whispered to her.
the woman tsked, "does she really strike you as someone that would go to a festival? all she does is stay at home and bake. she doesn't even make time for you. but I can, and I need you tonight" she said while twisting one of his braids.
you turned to look at trudy, pointing at them through the window "why is he sitting there? letting her do this?" she shook her head silently, unable to give you a good answer.
"my father says I need to find a strong warrior as my mate, he would be so proud of me if I brought you. please neteyam, you are respectful and noble. can't you help me just this once?" her eyes softened as she attempted to convince him to go with her.
the festival happened once every two months and xura's dad was the one that planned it. her family was known amongst the clan due to her father's military prowess and leadership. therefore, you were certain between you and her that neteyam would not even think twice...
she was a lot more talented than you, making her an ideal mate. like she said, all you can do is bake. why wouldn't he choose her?
you walked away from the window, sitting down on trudy's bed. she took that as a sign to turn off the sound system and suddenly silence filled the room.
she cleared her throat "kid, ignore all of that. its just her jealousy peeking through, you know what she said is not the truth,"
she sat beside you and you turned your head to the side, not wanting her to see the tears building up in your eyes.
"name another talent trudy," you chuckled sarcastically.
"oh cmon kid, you have an incredible voice and your dancing skills are fire. you would steal the show at the festival, trust me" she chuckled and nudged your shoulder.
you finally turned towards her, eyes red. "I wanna stay here tonight,"
you fell into her lap and she held you close, "oh kid, whatever you need"
(will probably be a pt.2)
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commanderbragh · 4 months
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Served
DWC May 2024, Day 4: Drama
The laughter at the table died down with more than one person wiping tears from their eyes. Banagan shook his head and then looked around at everyone’s empty mugs. Carefully, he slid his chair back and stood up.
“I’ll get us another pitcher.”
“Make it two, lad,” Lorellai said with a grin. 
“Certainly,” the paladin responded with a nod. As he made his way towards the bar, he heard several voices getting louder from a nearby table. Looking over, he saw several men from his previous assignment laughing loudly. One of the waitresses was standing there holding her empty tray, trying to leave the group, but her way was blocked. One of the men had his leg stretched out with his foot on the side of one of his comrade’s seat, keeping her pinned next to the table. The man turned his head and Banny frowned.
“Jek,” he muttered. Before he realized it, he was walking towards their table. 
“Sir, I really need to get back to work.”
“No you don’t, honey. There’s plenty of business here for you.”
“Sir, please.”
Before Jek could respond, he suddenly found himself sliding out of his chair and landing on the floor. Standing over him while holding his foot in the air, Banagan shot him a look before letting go of his ankle and turning towards the waitress.
“Miss, I think they need you at the bar.”
“Excuse me,” she said quietly as she quickly stepped away and disappeared into the crowd.
“Dammit!” Jek yelled as he struggled to get up. His friends quickly stood and turned to face the paladin. “You got a death wish, Larethian?”
“No,” Banagan replied, looking calmly back at the red-faced warrior. “She was needed elsewhere.”
“You really want a beating?”
“No, I don’t think I would.”
“Not much you could do to stop us,” Jek spat out, stepping closer to the paladin.
“Perhaps. But if this is going to take long, let me go let my friends know. They’re expecting me to bring back drinks and I’d want to let them know to go get their own.” Banny pointed his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing behind him.
Jek and his friends looked past Banagan. Sitting at the table, they saw a female dwarf take the rifle that had been leaning against the table and laid it across her lap, her hand resting near the trigger. She cocked her head to the side a little and stared directly at him. He noticed that the rest of the table was watching them as well.
“You’re lucky this time, Larethian.”
“No more so than usual.”
“Spoiled, rich kid from Stormwind. Acting like you’re everyone’s favorite. Spending daddy’s money to buy his way here to a cushy job.”
“Boy do you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Got daddy to buy that armor for you, did ya’? Never did anything to earn it.”
“Did more than you, I bet,” Banny said with a smile. But there was steel in his eyes, and even Jek noticed it and his bravado faltered briefly.
“One day, your friends won’t be there.”
“Sure. And we both know how you guys like to jump someone from behind.”
“What did you say?”
“Not surprising that you don’t recognize truth when it’s spoken.”
“Watch your mouth, boy.” 
“Or what, Jek?” This time, Banny took a step closer and caused Jek to move back. Banny could hear the sound of more chairs scraping against the floor. He stared at the warrior and waited. After a few moments of nothing happening, Banagan let out a snort. “What I thought. Not so certain when the odds are even. When you have to look them in the eye.”
“They won’t always be there,” Jek said through gritted teeth. “You’ll get yours.”
“Yeah, you said that. Let me know when you want to test that theory.” Banagan took a step back from the group and rested his hand on the haft of the mace hanging from his belt.
Jek looked down at the paladin’s weapon and sneered. “Come on,” he spat out. The warrior turned and pushed his way past the table and through the crowd. The others were caught off guard, but soon followed after him.
Banagan shook his head and watched them exit before turning and going over to the bar. A few minutes later, he was carrying three pitchers back to his friends.
“What’s all that drama about?” the young dwarf asked as she rested her rifle back against the table.
“Remember those trouble makers I was talking about from my old troop? From before I joined up with you guys?”
“That them?” 
“Yeah. In all their glory.”
“They look like a fun bunch. Expecting more trouble from ‘em?”
“Probably.”
“Want me to sick Stroganoff on ‘em?”
“Maybe,” Banny answered with another chuckle. “Let’s keep that as Plan C.”
“Got other ideas?”
“Just maybe.”
“Gonna share?”
Banagan grinned and leaned closer to Lorellai.
@daily-writing-challenge
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pups-2-dust · 2 years
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I was really discouraged from taking science classes in high-school because all the science teachers were super clique-y and I had beef with one of them freshman year and then after that all but one of them would target me :/
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superhusbands4ever · 3 years
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So I have this headcanon that after Cody adopts this little mutated CT cadet with something to prove to be his official Little Brother™️ and Alpha-17 is just like “yeah okay so this is happening”, all the other CC class clones in Cody’s batch also end up adopting Rex to be the official Little Brother™️. And even though they aren’t quite as open about it, Fox, Bly, Wolffe, and Ponds are just as protective of Rex as Cody is but they’re better at hiding it. Fox in particular is a little gruff and a little rough with emotions so he doesn’t always know how to show he cares but he calls Rex “blondie” and smirks when the kid sasses Cody and Wolffe and stands in the background and glares at anyone, even the long necks, who tries to mess with his vod’ika just for being who he is. And it’s okay because Rex will smile that megawatt grin at him and Fox knows that he’s doing right by his brother.
And then after they all get their assignments, Fox has to deal with the anxiety and stress that comes with watching all his brothers go off to fight in the war while he’s stationed on Coruscant running the Guard and protecting the Chancellor. And of course it doesn’t help that he’s working directly under a Sith Lord, he sees the darker mechanizations that go on in the background, hears the words that are said behind closed doors, the plans that are made under the table, but what is there that he can do about it when he’s just a clone? Who would believe one lowly clone versus the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic.
Not to mention, Palpatine doesn’t need the chip in Fox’s brain to control him, not at first. The Jedi would never use the Force to get the clones to do their bidding, but Palpatine has no problem subtly controlling his commander, gaslighting him, making him question whether what he saw or heard was real or not, makes him forget long swaths of time where if Fox thinks too hard about it it just gives him a headache and makes his hands shake and his skin break out in a cold sweat. We saw the way Fox flinched back from Anakin in To Catch a Jedi not just once, but twice, and Fox doesn’t work enough with the Jedi to know that Anakin might be angry but he wouldn’t hurt Fox, especially when he’s seen how close Anakin is to the Chancellor. His only true experience with the Force is the Dark Side, even if he doesn’t recognize it as such.
Fast forward to an abandoned warehouse on Coruscant. He doesn’t really remember much about how he got here or what he’s doing. All he knows is that his men are stony and quiet around him and Rex, his little blondie, is on the ground clutching Fives, the fugitive, Rex’s vod’ika, sobbing into his chest where the blaster bolt wound is still burning and Fox is holding the smoking blaster.
He tries to talk to Rex, to figure out what the hell had happened, what the hell did Fox do, why wasn’t his blaster set to stun, why wasn’t his blaster set to stun—
Commander Fox, execute ARC-5555. Make sure he is not taken alive.
But his men are pulling him back, telling him they need to report back to the Chancellor, and Fox watches as General Skywalker leads Rex back to their speeder, gently pries Rex’s hands from Fives body as the Guard take the body away to be disposed of.
When he tells the Chancellor that Fives is dead the man looks grim but his eyes are bright with poorly concealed glee as he nods yes, it is good that such a dangerous traitor has been taken down and is no longer a threat to your brothers or the Republic and Fox’s head throbs and he feels like he’s going to throw up but he nods and leaves the office feeling like he’s missing something, something vital.
He tries to comm Rex but Rex doesn’t answer, even when Fox knows the 501st is back on Coruscant. He tries to talk to Bly or Wolffe or Ponds about it but they weren’t there, they don’t see it, they didn’t see the look in Rex’s eyes as he held his dying brother or the frown on his face when he looked at Fox as Skywalker led him away. He just needs time to process, they tell him, you know how much the twins meant to him and now they’re both gone. But it’s more than that, Fox needs to understand, needs Rex to understand that he would never do this to him on purpose, he would never hurt his little brother like that, would never betray the closest family and the only people he truly trusts in such a way and he doesn’t know why he did it.
Finally Fox gets an incredibly rare day off rotation when the 501st and the 212th are both planet side in the GAR barracks and he decides it’s time to pay his brothers a visit, it’s time to take action and take matters into his own hands. Except when he gets to the GAR and he finds Rex in the mess... Rex looks at him and suddenly looks so exhausted, so drained, so physically pained that it takes Fox’s breath away and he turns and leaves before Rex can open his mouth and say the words that Fox knows are coming but is too much of a coward to let himself hear.
And that’s how Cody finds Fox, dressed in civvies and curled up in a ball on the ground of his room. His body is shaking and his hands are clutching at his long curly hair and he’s hyperventilating near on the verge of tears. He’s so tired, he’s so done, he doesn’t know what to do, there’s nothing he can do—
I don’t know what I’m doing, I can’t keep doing this. I killed Fives. I killed Fives and Rex h-hates me, Rex’ika hates me, I can’t—
And Cody can’t do anything but hold onto him and try to assure him that Rex does not hate him, he’s just hurt and sad and he needs time to process it but he doesn’t hate Fox, could never hate his ori’vod.
But Fox just shakes his head because he knows, he knows something isn’t right and he hurt one of the people he swore on his life he would do anything to protect and he doesn’t know what to do anymore, nothing is right anymore, everything is wrong, it’s all wrong wrong wrong—
And months later, when Rex is flying off that Sith damned moon in his and Ahsoka’s Y-wing, he thinks about Fox, his ori’vod who served under Chancellor Pal— Emperor Palpatine, Lord Sideous — the dispassionate way he told the Guard to shoot down Ahsoka on Coruscant, the blankness in his voice when he told Fives to put the blasters down next to Jesse’s detached voice when he told the 332nd to open fire, the way Fox’s hands shook and the aborted step toward him when Rex walked away with the General, the ignored coms, seeing Fox that day in the mess when he ran before Rex could say anything, and his head throbs and his heart aches when he realizes all these little things, these tiny signs of deceit, of betrayal, had been right there in front of him the whole time, but he’d been too blinded by his feelings to see it.
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phykios · 3 years
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Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]
thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!
1)
Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.
Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12). 
Percy might hate college.
“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog. 
“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”
He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.
“How bad is it?”
“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”
“Ouch.”
“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”
Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”
“Yep.”
“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation. 
He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”
“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.” 
“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”
“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”
“Sounds good.”
“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”
Percy slams the computer shut. 
He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.
***
To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.
Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door. 
Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”
“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”
He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”
“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.
Several seconds pass. 
“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.
A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other. 
Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill. 
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.
“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”
“Uh… sure. I’d love to.” 
At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.
A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets. 
“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”
“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.
“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”
Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”
“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”
Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.
“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…” 
“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks. 
Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.” 
“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up. 
Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”
“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.
When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.
Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”
“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”
He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”
But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…” 
Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”
“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”
“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.
Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”
“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”
She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”
“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.
“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”
Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”
“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”
“Don’t forget--”
“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.
Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements. 
“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”
Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.” 
“I think you should consider majoring in history.”
Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”
“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”
“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.
But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”
“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.” 
“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”
Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”
“Why not?”
“Because… it's too easy?” 
If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun. 
He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.” 
“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.” 
The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.
By morning, he has a response. 
Sounds good! Looking forward to it.
***
With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?” 
“Hey mom.”
“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.” 
Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper. 
“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise. 
He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”
She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!” 
“Thank you.”
“An A!”
He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”
“Thanks, mom.”
“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”
“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”
“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”
“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”
“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”
A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”
Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”
“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”
“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”
“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”
“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”
She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”
“Thanks mom. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” 
And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release. 
Maybe college won’t be so bad after all. 
2)
“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”
Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene. 
Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”
Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.
Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says. 
William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”
“Deal.”
“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”
He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”
“Frank!”
“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…” 
He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.
It’s… not what he expected.
The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.
It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea. 
And, well. Percy can handle the sea.
He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”
The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.
Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.
Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.
“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.
She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”
“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?” 
“You did.”
He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”
Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”
He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--” 
Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”
“Gross.”
From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”
Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.
“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”
“You’re a psychopath.”
“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”
“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”
Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”
“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much. 
Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”
A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.
“What?” he hisses, glaring.
Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”
“The what?”
“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”
A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”
“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”
Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”
“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”
***
Some mistakes may have been made.
“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.
“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”
Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.
"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"
Nico gaped, staring. "What."
"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."
"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."
Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.
"It was your idea!"
"I don't have good ideas."
“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”
Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”
He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”
“Seriously?”
The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”
Freak. Percy would die for the kid.
“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”
“I’m not related to water, I just control it.” 
The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit. 
Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.
“Shh!” Nico hisses. 
Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”
The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.
Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles. 
That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.
“Speak.”
It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”
The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.
“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”
Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”
The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.
Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.
Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”
“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door. 
Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”
“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”
Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”
Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.
But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.
Nico’s eyes widen. 
Percy stares. “What.”
“I didn’t stop the ritual.”
His stomach goes cold.
Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”
Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.
Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”
“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”
The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.
3)
Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”
“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”
“Annabeth.”
She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”
“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom. 
Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--
“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”
“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street. 
“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”
He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing. 
Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things. 
His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.
Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.
That was the best compliment he had gotten.
Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.
He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”
That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”
“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”
“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”
Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.
He nods. “Very interesting.” 
Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else? 
“This is very well done, young man.”
Oh. “Thank you,” he says. 
“Who are you working with?” 
“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question. 
He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?” 
What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.
The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand. 
“Who was that?” Annabeth asks. 
Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”
“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”
Five hundred?! “Fuck me.” 
“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”
Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”
“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile. 
As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.
Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”
He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice. 
At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.
His mouth goes dry. “Um…” 
Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared. 
Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear. 
Annabeth, behind him, coughs. 
“S-sure. No problem.” 
Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?
He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him. 
But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.
Percy relaxes. He’s got this.
“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”
This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend? 
That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice. 
She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.
And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far. 
“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”
Well, most of them, anyway.
Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.
“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.
“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”
“And how big were these models?” 
Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”
Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”
Percy freezes. “Uh.”
Oh, shit.
He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.
“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”
In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.
Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps. 
Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly. 
Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.
“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.
“At my… summer camp…” 
Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”
Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”
“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”
Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”
“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.
Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.
She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.
Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?” 
His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”
“A little.”
He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”
“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.
He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.
She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps. 
“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock. 
Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before. 
“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his. 
Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.
It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.
He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could. 
She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.” 
Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.
“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.  
“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan. 
“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today. 
“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor. 
They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit. 
And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision. 
4) 
He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.
It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.
Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.
And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.
Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”
“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”
“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”
He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”
“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.
“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”
He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--
“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”
Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”
“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”
“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…” 
He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!
“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”
Percy straightens his back. Peace?
Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”
The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.
“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.” 
Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him. 
“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”
He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--
Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”
“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”
“Yes.”
“The ones in the British Museum.”
“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.
Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”
Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”
He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”
Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”
But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”
A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.
With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.
“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”
She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder. 
“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”
As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together. 
“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”
She smiles, waving her little fists.
Gods he loves this little monster.
Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together. 
Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”
The baby says nothing.
“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”
Junie blinks at him.
“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”
There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all. 
Percy sighs. Dammit.
Time for a new project, he guesses.
***
Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time. 
Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him? 
Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode. 
Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.
Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes. 
Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.
Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust. 
Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”
The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.
Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner. 
Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. 
He might be in over his head a little.
Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks. 
Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.
He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”
“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.
Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.
Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.
Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.
Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.
Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.
He stops. 
He squints at one of his doodles. 
Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.
This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar. 
Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.
Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books. 
“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”
No response. 
Percy approaches the table. 
From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra. 
Percy picks up the book, squinting. 
The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself. 
He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.
Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.
Blurry and smudged.
Percy stares. 
It… can’t be that simple, can it?
In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?
And he closes his computer.
Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look. 
He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?” 
“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.
“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness. 
***
“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.
His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch! 
“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.
“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”
That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”
He shows her his phone.
Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”
“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth. 
“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”
He starts. “What did you say?”
Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”
A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--
“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”
“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”
“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?” 
Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”
Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”
Annabeth takes her without a second glance. 
Then she does take a second glance.
Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.
Annabeth gapes. 
“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”
Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.
“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.
“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”
5)
Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”
“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”
Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”
Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”
“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”
“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?” 
Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”
Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”
“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”
Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”
“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”
“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”
“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”
He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.
“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”
“No, why do you ask?”
His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry
“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”
“Can do.”
“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”
“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes. 
Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.
And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask? 
Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”
Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”
“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.” 
“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”
“Peas,” Junie says. 
“Oh, you want peas instead?”
She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”
“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”
“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.
Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”
“I’m doing my best here, okay?”
***
Hardrada is… not what he expected.
“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.” 
“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.” 
“And what about Lover?”
“What about Lover?”
“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”
“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”
“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”
“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”
“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head. 
As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21. 
Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music? 
And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth. 
“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”
He gets no response.
Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”
“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly. 
“Everything okay?”
“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly. 
“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”
Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill. 
However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”
“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”
“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”
“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”
That gets his attention.
Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it. 
“Is that…?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.”
Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”
“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…” 
Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”
“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”
“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”
Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”
“Jackson,” she corrects.
“Huh?”
“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”
Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”
“Then let’s make it happen.”
And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.
+1
Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”
And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake. 
Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window. 
“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos. 
Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.
“Psst.” 
Jamie looks up. 
There’s a four year old staring at her. 
“Hi,” Jamie says. 
“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks. 
Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her. 
Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.
“Bello,” says Junie.
Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”
“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.” 
She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.
The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers. 
Junie beams at her.
Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.
“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.
Jamie points to the one after that.
“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”
“Awesome.” 
The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”
But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit. 
Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.
At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him. 
Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin. 
She really should have just stuck with German instead. 
730 notes · View notes
yuzukult · 3 years
Text
acquitted love || sjn & reader
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title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!
“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”
Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.
“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”
Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.
Not that you think Johnny is hot.
No.
“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”
You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.
“But he’s so hot—”
You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”
She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”
Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.
But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.
In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.
And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.
Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.
“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”
Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”
You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”
She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”
You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”
“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”
Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.
“Stop it.”
“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“
“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”
“Enemies to lovers.”
“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”
Hyeri gasps.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
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Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.
He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.
You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.
Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.
And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.
Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.
Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.
There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.
“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?
Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.
What could she be calling for?
You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.
Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”
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Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.
“As you know, I have a favor.”
“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”
She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.
What the fuck?
It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.
“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”
Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”
“Fuck—”
“The what?”
You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.
“What about Gonghyun?”
Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”
The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.
Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.
Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.
But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.
If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.
God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?
“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”
Kiss ass.
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If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.
Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.
There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?
“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”
Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—
“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.
There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?
“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.
“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.
You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”
“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”
Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”
“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”
Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”
“This is a game changer.”
“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.
“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.
Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.
“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.
“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”
“Okay…”
“They’re jean shorts.”
There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.
Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”
Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?
“I don’t think—”
“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”
Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.
“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”
He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”
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You hate admitting when you’re wrong.
Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.
But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.
Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.
He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.
When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.
When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.
And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.
You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.
Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.
He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.
“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”
You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”
“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”
“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”
“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”
“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”
On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.
Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.
Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.
So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.
And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.
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“Do you have a boyfriend?”
His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”
You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”
“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”
Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”
Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”
Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?
“No, I’m single.”
Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.
The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.
Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.
He’s entirely the opposite of you.
And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.
But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.
Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.
And knowing this information sort of angers you more.
You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?
You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.
He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.
So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.
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Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.
To work as a team.
Together.
Jesus, this is Hell for you.
Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.
When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.
“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”
He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”
There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?
“I’m quitting our partnership.”
You blink. “What?”
He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”
You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?
“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”
“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”
“I like you.”
Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?
“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”
“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”
You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”
“I’m not asking her for the position back.”
Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?
“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”
“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”
“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”
Your heart stops for a second.
This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.
Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.
And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.
“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”
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Hyeri is his replacement.
She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.
“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”
“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”
She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.
Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”
It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?
It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.
There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.
With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.
Were his eyes always this sparkly?
Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”
“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”
Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”
Johnny raises a brow. “What?”
“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”
“Then let’s go out on a date.”
You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.
“I—”
“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”
Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”
A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”
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This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.
You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.
So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?
Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.
Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.
Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.
“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.
“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”
You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”
He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”
“—Throw themselves at you?”
He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.
Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.
“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”
Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”
With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”
“Are you jealous?”
“In what way?” you snap back.
“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”
You’re left without anything to say.
It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.
In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?
“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”
“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”
“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.
“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”
“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”
“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”
You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”
“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”
You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”
He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”
Your silence answers his question.
“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”
“I never said you were incapable—”
“But you implied it.”
Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.
Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.
“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”
Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?
“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”
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After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.
Yours? Not so much.
Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.
Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.
The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.
Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.
So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.
This time, you’ll show it in a good way.
Or at least, you’ll try.
Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.
That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.
Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.
“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”
“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”
“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”
Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”
“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”
He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”
“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”
And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.
“I’d really like that.”
251 notes · View notes
thetaleoflevi · 3 years
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Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader
Content Type: SFW
TW: Season 3 spoiler, Blood, Profanity, Suicide (For a split second), Suggestive
Description: Reader distances herself from Levi, strongly believing her feelings are not reciprocated by him, causing Levi to miss her.
Word Count: 5.3k+
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Please go away, Captain. Or at least end me. I don’t like the way you make me feel when you’re around. I can’t breathe. Please stop walking my way. Stop looking at me with those eyes.
“Y/N, I need that paperwork on my desk by five o’clock today. Not a minute late, understood?” What are you even saying? Stop looking at me like that. His brows creased with impatience at your nonexistent response. “Hey, focus, brat.” He snapped his fingers at you, making you flinch out of your daze. “Yes, Captain! Right away.” You saluted messily and paced toward the door, returning when you figured out that you didn’t know what you were ordered to do.
“What are you agreeing to, brat?” God…that delicious word was cracking your last bits of sanity. “Repeat what I ordered you to do.” Levi demanded, not having moved an inch from where he was standing. He crossed his arms in annoyance. “Um, y-you… You said to-” “I told you to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on.” Your eyes widened, and you felt as if all the air in your lungs got punched out of you. So this was your end. This is how you die? Your Captain found your expression to be almost as funny as a shit joke. He didn’t show it on the surface, though.
“Relax, idiot. I was kidding. I want you to finish the paperwork I gave you earlier and hand it in to me by five. Pay attention, or next time it won’t be a joke.” He walked toward the door of the meeting room and turned to face you you when he heard you yelling your affirmation like an annoying parrot. “Yes, Captain! It won’t happen again!” You gave him your best salute only to have eyes rolled at you.
Levi left the room not having a clue that you almost threw up in front of him. You felt that stupid after the situation. Usually, you always felt like the rest of the world went pitch black, with only a spotlight shining on you and him, whenever he talked to you. Even when he scolded you for not doing something to his liking, you couldn’t help but focus on his devastatingly gorgeous silver eyes and how they squinted occasionally in fury, or his lips that never seemed to curve upwards and spat the ugliest words at you sometimes. It was tough love. At least that’s what you made of it.
“What happened in here? Did somebody spike the Captain’s tea? I’m very concerned.” Armin had walked into the meeting room where you stayed, replaying the conversation you just had with your handsome superior. “What are you talking about, Armin?” You ask curiously, having just seen the man acting as unfazed as always. “He smiled, Y/N. He genuinely smiled.”
You were in just as much shock as Armin was. He smiled? And I missed it?! “What were you guys talking about?” Armin sat in one of the chairs next to you. His crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, wondering what was so great that it could cause the most solemn man in the scouts to crack a smile. “I zoned out while he was giving me an order, and then he told me to kill myself—not in those exact words, but, he told me to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on. I think I made a stupid face or something, but I really thought he was ordering me to die. Then he told me the actual order.”
Armin chuckled at your retelling of the story, knowing he would have reacted the same way as Levi. “Whatever it was that you did, keep doing it! We’ve only seen Captain Levi smile once, and it’s been forever since then. Historia was crowned queen when he last smiled in front of us.” You smirked dumbly and got off the desk you were sitting on. “I’ll try my best. I gotta go, Armin. I have some paperwork to get done before Captain Levi reigns even more hell down on earth.” Armin chuckles and waves a goodbye as you leave.
It was four forty-three, and you had barely gotten anything done. With all the time you were given, you took it upon yourself to leave your work until the last minute—the procrastinating prodigy that you are. You watched everyone do their work with no thought about your own. Four forty-eight. Four fifty. Four fifty-six. Four fifty-nine. Five o’clock.
“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean. “No, sir. She was sitting with Eren, Armin, and Mikasa when I last saw her.” Connie replied. Fucking hell, Y/N.
It was five thirty-two when you finally knocked on Levi’s door. “How nice of you to show up on time.” You heard directly inside your ear. You gasped with fear and quickly turned around. Your Captain did not look pleased at all. “Can you tell me what time it is?” You checked the clock on the wall. “Five thirty-three, sir.” Your eyes looked at everything but him. “Okay, good. Come on in.” He unlocked his office door and waited for you to walk in before slamming it shut.
You bounced slightly at the harsh sound. “You better have a damn good excuse for why my paperwork is thirty-three minutes late.” He slowly walked over to you and the stack of papers you held tightly to your chest. “Did you even do it correctly?” He snatched the stack away from you, a few papers nicking the area between your thumb and index finger. You were quick to suck on the area that bled. He looked over the work you had done, keeping the compliments he would have rewarded you with to himself. The brat is good. If only she worked faster.
“It’ll do. It’s not extraordinary work, but i’ll take it because it’s not the most important work that needed to be done.” You stopped sucking the blood from your hand and looked at him when he went silent. “Tch, use your words. Ask for a bandage or something.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a white roll of gauze.
“Let me see.” He unstuck the beginning of the roll and returned to his spot next to you. “I can do it, sir.” You reached your undamaged hand toward the roll he held, only for him to pull it away from you. “Let me see it.” He urged, waiting for you to show him the cuts. They were surprisingly deep. You put your hand palm-up in front of you, only for him to adjust the position so that he could wrap the material around your hand correctly. The white wrapping began to turn red when it touched the blots of blood emerging from your open skin. With every layer he wrapped, less color was seen until it was just white.
Warmth was emitted through his fingers which soothed the pain in your hand a little. He let you retract your hand, watching you as you stared at the dressed wounded area. “What? Do you want me to kiss it or something?” He looked at you with an ordinary uninterested expression. Yes, please! Kiss it better. “I-I mean-“ You managed to stutter. Your cheeks flushed with heat when you realized what you had started saying. “Stop that, brat. Just stop talking.”
He walked to his desk and continued to look over the work you had done. He silently admired your considerably neat handwriting. It was as if you had typed it—the letters being all equally sized, no streaks out of line. “Right. I’m sorry.” You whispered, walking in the direction of the door. His words hit harder than usual for some reason. It was nothing to be upset about, yet you felt an unwelcome lump start forming in your throat. Maybe it’s you finally realizing that your love for him would never be reciprocated. Just being in the same room as him in that moment had you feeling more vulnerable than ever.
You mustered up the small amount of stability you had in your voice and said,”Well, if you don’t need me to do anything else, I’ll be on my way.” “That will be all.” He mumbled, not looking at you. No thank you? You saluted and left the room.
Unlike times before, Levi didn’t make your heart soar, he made it sink to the pit of your stomach, despite him touching you more than he ever has. It made you question your reasons for loving him so much. Is he worth the confusion your heart goes through when talking to the different versions of him? You’re not sure.
Weeks went by with you treating Levi like he was anyone but the person you longed to be with before. You still gave him the respect he deserved as your Captain, but you only talked to him when he talked to you or when you needed to deliver something to him from another one of your superiors. When he ordered you to do something, you would simply give him an affirmation and walk away. No small talk or questions. You didn’t smile like you usually did for him, and your heart wasn’t beating erratically when you accepted the duties he assigned to you.
Levi caught on to this act of yours when he started missing the way your doe eyes lingered on his as he talked to you. Now you would barely look him in the eyes. He missed the way you would try to make him laugh with a joke that had you in pain from laughing so hard. Now you only talked to him about work-related matters. He missed the way you stuttered after saying something dumb. Your voice is so steady now, and your words are chosen more carefully. He missed the clear adoration you had for him. He missed you.
Another day passed, and Levi had no excuse to talk to you. He didn’t have orders to give you. At that moment, he would’ve done anything to go back to when he would scowl at you as you laughed to your heart’s content. He would do anything to see you for more than two minutes. He would have taken the boring job of completing a pile of paperwork if it meant you were the one giving it to him and he would be able to brush his fingers against yours.
His head rested in his hands, frustrated with his inability to stomp on his pride and just walk over to wherever you were. He missed you so, so much, but he would never let you know that you were the best part of his days.
A knock came from the other end of his door. “Name and business.” He stated with his head still in his hands. “Y/LN Y/N, sir.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and he raised his head, quickly fixing the strands of hair that had moved out of place. “Commander Erwin asked me to get your signature for an important document.” He walked over and opened the door for you. “Come in.”
You entered his office and stood in front of his desk until further instruction. He shut the door quietly and walked to where you were.
“You can set the document down on my desk. I need to get a new container of ink. I’ll be back shortly.” He went to his bedroom, which connected to his office, and went through a drawer that seemed to have different supplies in it. He returned with a clear glass cube filled with black ink. He sat in his chair and read the document quickly before scribbling a beautiful rendition of his name onto the blank line at the bottom of the page.
“Here.” He flipped the paper so that it was upright to you. “Thank you, Captain.” You took the document and saluted. As you were about to leave, Levi’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, can you sit for a minute?” He asked, hoping you weren’t in a rush to get those documents to Erwin.
“Of course, sir.” You answer, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.
He looked slightly sad. His eyes were completely softened, eyebrows curving inward slightly. “Why haven’t you come to see me as often as you used to?” All you could think was, does it really matter whether you see me or not? “I’ve been busy. I have duties entrusted to me by others. You are not my only superior, Captain Levi.” You were okay with giving him a piece of your mind in the most respectful way possible.
“I understand that, but why are you choosing to completely avoid me unless the subject is work?” Can you be anymore needy? “I’m not.” You simply respond. That is the ugliest lie you have ever told. You are avoiding him. You are keeping yourself busy to avoid even thinking about him.
“I see. I never took you for such a shitty liar.” You suppressed the need to roll your eyes. No answer will satisfy him until he hears what he wants to hear. “Well, i’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I’ll try not to make a habit of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander Erwin said that this document needed to be returned as soon as possible.” You stood up from the wooden chair and saluted before exiting your Captain’s office.
The sky went dark without you realizing. You were busy all day and after the talk you had with your Captain, you were both physically and mentally tired.
As you arrived to your bedroom, not caring for the darkness that veiled your room, you let yourself fall backwards onto your bed as exhaustion creeped through your body. With your eyes closed, you lifted each of your legs and removed your boots one by one before tossing them to the ground. “Why does he suddenly care about the amount of times he’s seen me throughout the day?” You whisper to yourself as if someone would hear you.
The sound of knocking fills your ears and you pretend to have fallen asleep. “Y/N, are you in there? Are you awake?” Not now. Please. You stay silent, hoping Levi will leave you alone.
Three more knocks sound against your door. After a few seconds of complete silence, you hear the doorknob turn and the door swings open, shutting after Levi steps inside the room. “Tch, you didn’t even take your straps off.” He whispers in consideration to your ‘sleeping’ state. He sits next to you on your bed and watches your chest mimic dormant breathing. He reaches for the strap that loops around your chest and undoes the small buckle. Your chest was released and moved more freely.
By now, your act of pretending to sleep was no longer an act. You were breathing in a set rhythm through your nose.
He softly and slowly pulled your arms out of the leather that enclosed around them. You stirred a little bit before returning to the position you were in previously, on your back.
“I’m going to take care of you, my Y/N. I don’t want your skin to bruise.” He whispered while he undid your belt buckle and lowered down to work on the bands that curled tightly around your thighs. He slowly slid the rest of the leather down your calves and off completely. He got off of your bed and organized your things neatly so that you would find them easily in the morning.
“Y/N.” Levi called, shaking you softly by your arm. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted, furrowing your brows when you noticed someone else was there with you. “What?” You grumble, annoyed at the inability to go back to sleep. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.” That voice. You tried to spring up off the bed to salute respectfully to your Captain.
He grabbed your forearms and brought you back down to your bed. “Calm down. You don’t have to be so formal after hours.” You weren’t even asleep ten minutes, yet the drowsiness embodying you was extreme.
“Do you want me to light a candle? It’s pretty dark in here. I wasn’t expecting you or anyone else to come see me this late.” “No. I think the dark will allow courage to seep through me better.” You raised a brow in confusion. “Courage? Since when do you lack courage, Captain-“ “Levi. Just Levi between us.” “Le..vi?” He nodded with reassurance. “Since when do you lack courage in anything, Levi.”
He put his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you tensed up against the contact. He didn’t pull his hand away at the gesture, though. “I hate having to admit that I have a weakness for you, believe me, but you’re invading my thoughts every day, all the time.” This isn’t like you, Captain.
“I’m not adjusting well to this change between us. I miss the way you used to be with me. Even when I didn’t reciprocate the energy you gave off, you always managed to make feel better inside. Now that you’ve distanced yourself from me, I feel even more dead inside than usual.” His fingers stroked the fabric on your shoulder of your white button-up shirt.
“I can’t be that way with you anymore. It took me a while to realize that we’re not here to make relationships that last forever. We have the hardest job anyone could ask of us—saving humanity.” You sighed, thinking of a way to prevent yourself from hurting his feelings. “Though the thought of having you by my side is delightful, I don’t think I can go back to worshiping the ground you walk on like I did before. Our relationship should remain that of superior and subordinate.”
Levi’s head lowered. The agony he was feeling in his chest was excruciating. This last attempt to get you was sadly his final one.
“Then I have one final request.” You couldn’t help but wonder what he would want from you that he can’t get from anyone else. “Can I kiss you?” His hand that was set on your shoulder slowly made it’s way to caress your cheek. His eyes softened at the familiar look in your eyes that peered into his soul. Though you felt you should have removed his hand from the side of your face, the warmth was comforting.
“If you don’t feel anything, I promise I’ll swallow my feelings for you and leave you be. We’ll be strictly comrades, no emotional feelings involved.” He swiped your soft skin with his thumb, eyes locking with yours as he seeks a response that isn’t developed yet.
Finally. “Only once.” You whisper. He nods in acknowledgement of your instruction. His left hand attaches to your waist while his right finds your cheek again. You tremble at the foreign feeling of someone’s touch on a part of you that wasn’t an arm, a shoulder, or your back. His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned in. God, he smelled so good. The aroma was dangerously attractive. You hoped to never come across someone that smelled the same way, that way his smell would only make you think of him.
The closer he got, the deeper his fingertips dug into your side, as if trying to pierce holes through your shirt to feel your skin.
Darkness, light—you saw both somehow. The entanglement of lips on lips was a good feeling that both of you felt mutually. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting this moment to ever end. After all, this is the first, and possibly the last time he would ever be this close to you again.
You tried to break the kiss but struggled to when you felt Levi pulling you back to connect again. It wasn’t enough for him. It was never going to be enough.
“Le..v…” You murmured indistinctly, stopping the movements from your lips completely. “No. Please…” He mumbled against your lips continuing his one-sided kiss.
It felt desperate, which was strange coming from a man like Levi who’s never begged for anything from anyone. “Come on. Kiss me.” He said with his lips pressed against yours. The feeling was undeniably good. It brought life back to the heart that stopped longing for specifically his affection.
You started moving your lips again, synchronizing quickly. His bangs tickled your forehead, causing your lips to twitch upwards.
He picked you up and placed you on his lap. Just as you were about to reach for his hair, he broke the kiss.
“I want to touch your skin, Y/N. Not in an inappropriate manner, I just need proof that this isn’t just another one of my dreams. I can’t risk going insane over another night of me just fantasizing about being your one. This shirt is the only thing standing between my hands and your soft skin—reality. I won’t touch you like that if you don’t want me to, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His mouth said something, but as always, his eyes said something else. They were begging for you to allow him to feel you. His hands rested on your hips. Maybe this was going too far. What if you did let him touch your bare skin, and it progressed into something inappropriate?
With that single doubt in your mind, you responded to his request with,“Unbutton my shirt, then.” The light in his eyes was shining brighter than you had ever seen. He was visually shocked at your consent. It was clear that he was grateful to have you that night in his hold.
His hands lowered to where your shirt tucked into your pants and pulled out the fabric. Before he could move onto the buttons, he searched your expression for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. None that he could see—you were that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.
He undid every button, not missing his chance to sneak in a brush of his fingertips here and there, on your collar bone or your sternum.
Soon enough your shirt was left wide open, revealing your black bra and newly formed goosebumps brought on by the cold wind. You turned away from Levi, flustered by his eyes on your exposed torso.
He tugged on one of the loose halves of your shirt, signaling for your attention. “Eyes on me.”Goosebumps resurfaced your skin when his knuckles brushed against your stomach. “You’re beautiful.” His soothing voice assured you as his eyes explored the unknown sight.
You were brought close once again, his lips dying to return to where he knew they belonged. Goosebumps rampaged through your body as he pulled your body closer to him by your waist. The feeling of his hands wrapped around your bare sides was absurd. You were now up against his chest. His hands traveled from your sides to your back to keep you pushed against him.
If you had to remain like this for the rest of your life, you’d do it in a heartbeat, if possible, less time.
Though it wasn’t meant to be sexual, he was leaving you breathless—quite literally. His touch made your heart pound in your chest, which he surprisingly didn’t feel, even with you pressed so tightly against him. By the sound of it, he was breathless as well.
“Mmm…Levi.” You mumbled. “Hmm?” He hummed not stopping his lips from devouring yours. “We have…to…mmm...breathe…at some point.” He snickered, smiling slightly, giving you the chance to break your lips away from his. You were able to see a slight shade of pink on his cheeks in the moonlight. Whether it was from the suffocation or the steamy moment remained a mystery.
Soft pants came from both of you, and though he let go of your lips, you weren’t fully released from his grasp. His ring and middle fingers on each hand poked at your back dimples, while his thumbs did light circular motions on the sides of your abdominal area.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“I need to know what you intend to do with me, Captain. From now to…” You sigh heavily, not finding it as easy as you thought it would be to fit this conversation into the moment after what had just gone down.
Levi picks up on how tense you’ve become, seeing how stressed you suddenly look. “Hey, I’m going to listen to every word you have to say. I’m all ears, right now.” He squeezes your waist gently.
“Okay, what i’m trying to say is…I don’t want to have to mend my wounded heart every time you push me away.” You look toward the window, looking at how a cloud slowly moves in a direction that makes it collide with another cloud. To be honest, it kind of reminded you of you and Levi. The way your lives collided with each other’s, then separated, only to find each other again.
He held your chin softly between his thumb and index fingers, shifting your gaze back to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded for you to keep going. “I also don’t want to have to apologize for fulfilling my everyday duties that can lead to days of not being able to see you.” His hand released your chin and returned to the spot it was on previously, your side. It was as if he was comforting you and himself at the same time. He was hoping you wouldn’t get off, leaving him incomplete without your body weight on him.
You did exactly as he feared, almost as if you read his mind. You wanted this conversation to be as serious as possible, no distractions. You released your grasp on his shoulders and slowly began lifting yourself off of his lap. He subconsciously began letting go of your body, until he caught himself and tightened his grip, bringing you back to where you were, on his lap.
“Levi? What are you-“ “I want—no, I need you, Y/N. You know how bad it’s been on my end since you stopped talking to me like we’re the two closest people on earth? It’s been hell. Fucking hell.” His hands brushed past your sides and pushed on your back, bringing you to an embrace. Your chin landed on his shoulder and his face nuzzled into your neck. Your arms stayed by your side contrary to his which wrapped around you, brushing past the straps of your bra and settling on your upper back. You felt breaths of hot air tickle your neck as he kept talking.
“You have no clue how sad I’ve been. This is what I need from you. I don’t care if it’s something occasional. I don’t care if I only get to see you once a week, month, or year. I don’t fucking care at all. I just want you, Y/N. Please. Please, just hold me.” You could hear his calm breathing close to your ear. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him. One hand caressed the back of his head, and the other held the mid-section of his back.
He was breathing in your scent discreetly. Black hair tickles your bare shoulder, exposed by your sagging button-up shirt. You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, smoothing down any strands that stood out.
“This feels right.” He mumbled before placing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to feel your heartbeat and your warmth against me like this whenever I can.” His lips continued to brush against your skin slowly.
Minutes went by, not a word was spoken. When you tried to escape his caging hold to continue your conversation, he would just pull you close again nuzzling back into your neck. He was being really clingy tonight—not that you were complaining, it was just a odd.
“We can keep talking like this.” He mumbled. “Okay.” You whispered running your hand across his undercut.
“Are you sure you want a relationship where we won’t have every minute of the day together? I know it’ll be hell for me.” You could feel him smiling slightly against your neck. “Yes, Y/N. I know we won’t have much time in the day together, but we haven’t been taking nights into consideration.” Goosebumps crawled throughout your body when you felt his lips latch onto your neck again.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Relax. “I’m willing to be even more nocturnal for you. I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to you every morning.” He dragged his thumb across the damp spot on your neck where his lips rested before. “That s-sounds good.” You stutter noticeably. “What’s wrong?” He holds your face in his hands, clearly unable to fake concern. A smirk tugs at his lips. This man knows what he’s doing.
“Nothing. I’m okay.” You assure with a soft smile. “Okay, just making sure. You know…” He starts leaning in again, aiming for your neck. He knows your weak spot now, and you can’t even hide it.
“…I really like…” He kisses the sensitive skin lightly, basking in the way you shudder. “…spending time with you like this. How about you?” As you open your mouth to answer, he leans in again.
“I…fuck.” You grab onto his arm as he nibbles on the flesh that became more and more sensitive with every second that his lips spent on it. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin. “I didn’t catch that.” He tilted your head to his left to give him more room. More room to litter you with his markings. “I do…” You inhale sharply when he bites the area under the bruising skin he just sucked on. “…too.” He soothes the imprinted skin with his index and middle fingers.
“Good. Tell me, sweet girl, what’s your favorite time of day?” The movement of his fingers slowed, as he pressed gently on the sore parts. His gaze focused intensely on your peaceful features as sighs escaped your lips with every delicate prod of his fingers. He hoped you would say nighttime, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you all the daytime with him that you wished for. Also, nighttime would be the time he would spend with you, making sure you were feeling every good thing you could feel. Happiness, pleasure, excitement, pleasure, love, satisfaction, security, domination, care, submission. You know? The good things.
“Nighttime. That’s my favorite time of day.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “It’s my favorite now, too.” The movement of his fingers on your neck stopped. He looked outside at the moon, remembering the important work he left behind when he decided to look for you. “I should get going.” You frowned slightly which he quickly took notice of. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but I ditched a lot of my work to come find you.”
You dragged your thumb across his half-swollen lips before closing the space between you two and kissing him once more. You released him and said in a whisper,“I understand. Thank you for being here with me tonight.” You got off of his lap and transitioned to a cross-legged position on your bed. He caressed your cheek in an endearing manner, before saying,”I’m glad things are the way they are for us now.” He let you go, and began walking to your door. You fixed your shirt so that you looked presentable again.
“Levi, wait.” “Yes?” He asked, holding onto the doorknob. “Did you take the straps from my uniform off of me?” He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, I did. They would have bruised your beautiful skin if I hadn’t taken them off.” “I could have done it myself, but thank you for that.” You felt cared for. It was such a soft concept to think about. He nodded and continued his exit, a small smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.
I’m the only one who should be wrapped around you and leaving marks in those areas at night.
387 notes · View notes
tooruluv · 3 years
Text
Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )
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❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞
description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.
genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in
word count: 3.8k
warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33
teaser | part 2
| masterlist
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“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars
┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓
The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 
The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.
You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.
Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.
Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 
With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 
The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 
When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.
You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 
It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.
Today sucked.
That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.
It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 
Life sucks. Deal with it.
You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 
You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 
You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 
You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.
Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.
Of course.
You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?
My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.
Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)
Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.
It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 
He was your soulmate after all.
You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.
You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 
You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 
You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.
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“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”
“What did you say to me?”
Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 
You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 
“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”
You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”
“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”
He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”
You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.
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They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 
You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 
Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.
And that is terrifying.
There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.
It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.
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When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 
When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 
You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 
Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 
And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 
One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 
Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.
You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.
The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 
“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”
The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 
Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.
Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 
“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”
You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”
“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”
“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.
His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.
Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 
Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?
I don’t think so.
I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.
Wow, that was a loud sigh.
YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((
I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.
 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 
That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.
Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.
Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.
Ah, the admission of your love for me.
Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.
The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.
Don’t push it.
We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.
Does the book allow it?
My parents did it before they found each other.
Okay. Like what?
I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.
No.
I can always go with something cute like Honey.
This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.
Okay, Honey.
I take back what I said, asshole.
Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!
I’m going to bed now.
Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.
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“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.
You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 
“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”
“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”
“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”
“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”
“What about you, Shinsou?”
“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”
“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”
He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”
“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”
“I’ve noticed.”
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You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 
Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.
You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.
The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 
His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.
Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 
If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.
Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.
Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.
“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.
You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.
You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.
Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 
You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.
When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.
“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”
He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 
“I was. I just… I need your help.”
“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”
“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”
“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”
“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”
“No.”
“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”
“No.”
“Please, I…”
“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”
“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”
“Don’t do this now.” 
“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”
You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”
“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”
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tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109
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collecting-stories · 3 years
Text
She’s Kinda Hot - Sarah Cameron
Request: omg i really wish i could write but, can you do one with sarah and kind of like kie reader(rich but hang out with the pogues)where they are enemies and are stuck together for a project and the reader keeps annoying sarah to make her mad and the reader tells sarah she’s hot when she’s mad and then they end up getting together or something. sorry this is really long this is also my first time requesting so i’m kinda new lo
A/N: I really freaking love Sarah Cameron. That is all. Enjoy the fic. 
Outer Banks Masterlist
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Sarah was pretty sure that there was one of those personal rain clouds hanging directly over her head as she sat in math class with you. Who even assigned school projects in math class? Wasn’t that kind of thing reserved for english or science? But no, her math teacher...your math teacher...decided that a project to highlight Women in Math was a brilliant idea for Women’s History Month and, in an even greater stroke of genius, she stuck Sarah and you together as partners. It was all your fault really, that was all Sarah kept thinking as she stared across the classroom at the side of your head. That if you hadn’t walked into class late, in the middle of assignments, Sarah would’ve ended up with the next person alphabetically behind Cameron. Instead, she was stuck with you. 
“Why don’t we just split the assignment into parts and then put it together at the end?” Sarah suggested, after the bell rang and she managed to chase you down the hall of the kook academy to your locker.  
“Why not just work together?” You replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it shouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen to Sarah to be paired together for the project.
“I’d rather not.”
“Cause you broke up with me-”  
Sarah hushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her hand and looking back and forth down the crowded hallway. “You know what happened!”  
You pushed Sarah’s hand away and rolled your eyes, “well too bad princess, I need this grade so you’re gonna have to deal with seeing me.” You said, “everyday. After school.”  
“That’s bullshit,” Sarah snapped, following after you when you shut your locker and started down the hallway to your next class, “you do not need that fucking grade! You’re at like, the top of the class.”  
“Are you the teacher?” you asked, looking back at her. “Don’t worry Sarah, I promise I’ll stay six feet away and I won’t try to tempt you. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out you’re into girls.” You said, whispering the last part so only she could hear it.  
Sarah stopped in her tracks, watching you walk the rest of the way to your class. She wanted to scream after you, that wasn’t the reason. That wasn’t why she’d totally annexed you from her life. It wasn’t just that she knew this project was going to get her in deep shit, it was that she was one hundred percent positive that she would not be able to work with you without letting her feelings get the better of her.  
It wasn’t like the kook academy was a big place, there wasn’t exactly room to avoid you completely, but Sarah had done a pretty decent job so far. Even when the two of you crossed paths in class, and it happened more than Sarah would’ve preferred, she managed to keep herself away from you. At least until now, she was stuck with you as her partner for some ridiculous math project. She’d been banking on you wanting as little to do with her as she tried to have with you but instead you seemed totally fine. Unbothered by everything that went down between the two of you.  
She thought about asking Kiara what she would do but Sarah could already hear her best friend telling her that she wasn’t going to take sides. Kiara was friends with both of you and the most advice she would ever offer was “I don’t get what happened between you two anyway”.  
No, asking Kiara wouldn’t work. Sarah would have to resign herself to this project. She could this. It was just a three-week project. She could survive three weeks with you.  
“Hey, if I get lunch, what’d’ya want?” You asked, hanging your head off of Sarah’s bed and holding your phone out so you could tap through your doordash app.  
Sarah wanted to scream, it was still half-way through the first week and you had been to her house three times in as many days, spending your after-school hours driving her crazy. She was pretty sure that you were doing this on purpose.  
“It’s almost 5:30,” Sarah replied, not looking up from her laptop, “I think lunch is over.”
“Dinner then.” You said.  
“No. I don’t want dinner.” She snapped, “and I don’t want lunch or whatever else...I just want to finish this project.”
“We’ve got like, two weeks left Sarah,” you pointed out, rolling over onto your stomach and looking at her across the room, “just chill out.”  
You knew you were pushing Sarah’s buttons but you couldn’t help it. When things between the two of you had gone bad, when she’d told you that it was over and, worse than that, it was a mistake, you had been heartbroken. There wasn’t a better word for it. You hated how upset you’d been after Sarah broke it off with you but when things settled, you couldn’t deny that there was still something there. Little looks, fleeting in the hallway, moments you caught her staring and you knew she caught you too. It felt like boiling tension, the same way it had before, when you’d gotten together.  
“Chill out?” She huffed, “you’ve been at my house all week driving me fucking nuts and now you tell me to ‘chill out’. No, you need to help me with this fucking project!”  
You sat up on the bed, unable to contain the smile as you looked over at Sarah, “god, I totally forgot how insanely hot you are when you’re pissed off.”  
Sarah tossed her pencil across the room at you, “will you knock it off. You always pull this shit with me.”
“What shit?” You almost laughed, “you’re the one who told me that dating was an ‘accident’ and you were ‘confused about your feelings’. What am I doing, exactly, to pull shit with you? If anything, Sarah, you leading me on was pretty much exactly that.”  
“I wasn’t leading you on.” She groaned, flicking her hair over her shoulder the way she always did when she was pissed with something someone said to her. “What was I supposed to do anyway?” She said, voice dropping lower so no one would hear her. You might’ve been in her closed bedroom but if there was one thing you’d learned about Tanny Hill it was that someone was always listening. “Do you know what my family would do if they found out?”
“Found out that you were dating...basically a pogue? Or dating a girl?” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her in question. You knew what the answer was. Sarah had been trying to live up to every expectation that Ward set for her from the moment she was born. She was always trying to make up for Rafe or Wheezie doing something to upset him by making sure she never did. And while other people dating whoever they wanted was totally fine with him, his favorite daughter, his pride and joy, dating a girl...maybe if it’d been Wheezie a few years down the line. But not Sarah, who was supposed to date a rich kook and go to UNC and marry the same rich kook and they could have a couple kids and buy a big house near his. He’d been planning it all out for her since before she was born and you had thrown a wrench in that plan.  
“It’s a delicate subject.”
“No,” you laughed and shook your head, “your dad’s a total homophobe. What’s he got against two super-hot girls dating each other?”
“When one of them is his daughter, I don’t think it’s at the top of his approved list.” She replied. “We should be working on this project anyway...I want a good grade and so do you.”
“Sarah-”
“No. Cause you’ll say something that you know I wanna hear and then you’ll do the stupid slow walk over to my chair and put your hands on the arm rests and I’ll be totally defenseless and then I’ll do something I totally regret...like kissing you.” Sarah said, “or letting you kiss me.”
“You’d totally regret it if we kissed?” You asked. “Positive?”
“Yes I’m positive.”
“We could test it out? Just to make sure?”
“No.”  
You shrugged, grabbing your math text off the bed and setting it on your lap again, “okay, I guess we should get back to work then.”
“What?” Sarah almost sounded shocked and really she shouldn’t have been. She should’ve known when the teacher put the two of you together for the project that this was exactly where she would end up at some point within the three weeks. Though really, she’d held out a lot longer than she ever thought she would be able to. “That’s it? You’re just going back to the project?”
“You said that’s what you wanted to do.”
She groaned and tugged at the roots of her hair for a second before looking at you, “you are the most frustrating, annoying, dense person in the entire world and I cannot believe that we-”
While she reamed you out, you had put your book aside and gotten up, going over to her and doing exactly what she said you would. You put your hands on the armrests of her desk chair and you leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. “Is that what I was supposed to do?” You asked, pulling away just enough to see her face.  
Sarah wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you toward her and forcing you to stabilize yourself with a knee on the side of her leg, practically sitting on her lap. “Something like that.” She finally said, “though I would’ve appreciated a little warning.”
“Oh, sorry, you seemed stressed,” you replied, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to help you relax.”
“Is stressed the word?” She joked, tension melting as she brushed her nose against yours. She leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, her eyelashes just ghosting a touch on your cheeks when she closed her eyes for a split second.  
“Extremely hot? Sexy...a major turn on.” You joked, kissing her again. “God, imagine if you’d been paired with like...Topper for this? You’d be kissing him right now.”
“Stop trying to ruin the moment and kiss me.” Sarah laughed.
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Dunno about you but our teachers never really analysed required readinh in class. Our English (as foreign language) teacher just ripped a quiz from the internet after we were supposed to read 1984. Our (German) literature class was a bit better, but I'm only saying this because I remember the parable of the three rings. I think a lot of teachers don't really do anything with the required reading, making it feel pointless. Dunno, maybe challenging kids to analyse their fav media would work better
I don’t think the problem of mediocre teachers teaching for the test is going to be solved by letting kids pick the books. I get what you are saying, and i think kids analyzing their favorite books could work as a good introductory activity for elementary and middle schoolers, i think you are missing the point of the post. There are always going to be things in life that require critical thinking even if it doesn’t personally interest you. You can’t always just throw up you hands and dnf the world around you. I’m sorry your teacher’s weren’t great, but that doesn’t mean the whole exercise must be wrong.
(Apologies for going on a bit of a ramble, but your ask really rubbed me the wrong way and i need to talk about it.)
The first problem with letting kids just pick whatever book to analyze is practical: the teacher won’t be able to read every book. My average high school english class had 15 people, and most schools have more. Unless that one assignment made up the whole class, the teacher would not be able to read every single submission in a reasonable time frame. If the student misinterprets something, the teacher has no way of knowing. Say for example that someone wanted to do a project on the Twilight Saga, and somewhere in their paper they argue that the book has a strong anti-racist message because it has a lot of Native American characters. And ignorant non-native student might not catch the more underhanded racism present, nor would they know about how the author appropriated a real tribe for profit they never got a cut off if they only looked at the book itself and not discussions around it. And the teacher wouldn’t be able to correct them because they have 20-some other completely different books and projects they’ve never read to worry about. The point of a curriculum is for everyone to be on the same page. And yes, this can lead to situations where a teacher decides that their interpretation is the only correct one, but it’s better than a free for all where no one learns anything.
As for why english class had people look at certain ”classics” over the new YA hotness is because the classics’ value goes beyond whether or not they are good stories. They have cultural impact, they challenge your thinking, they hold up to close readings. It’s one thing to learn about the raw facts of WW1 or the Vietnam War, it’s another thing to read what it felt like to live through those things and their aftermaths from authors who experienced them firsthand like Earnest Hemmingway and Tim O’Brian. And let me tell you: I cannot stand Hemmingway, but i understand why i was made to read his work. He touched on not only the war itself, but the emotional struggle to move on with your life after experiencing something so traumatic but ultimately pointless, not to mention his actual style of writing was innovative for its time. Meanwhile Tim O’Brian is one of my favorite authors long after my high school class introduced me to him. His book The Things They Carried will tell a horrifying anecdote about Vietnam in one chapter, then spend the next talking directly to the audience about which parts were literally true, and which parts were emotionally true, details that were altered in order to tell the story in a way that brought the reader closer to what the real thing felt like. There’s a lot more storytelling philosophy in there i still apply to my own writing too this day that i would have never considered without it. There arguments to be made about the over abundance of white dude authors in the curriculum. Calling it right now, The Left Hand of Darkness should be taught in schools. But there is diversity outside the YA shelf. Go read Toni Morrison.
Speaking of YA, as a final point, some kids would just pick bad books. Let’s take Divergent as an example from the original post. Divergent is a bad book. It’s a bad trilogy. I know they are bad because i’ve read all of them and gone through with a fine toothed comb analyzing how poorly constructed its world, characters, plots, and themes really are. I have literally given an academic lecture in my discord server about the baffling degree to which Divergent is a literary failure from top to bottom. Now, a casual teenaged reader would go through a series about a girl fighting in a post-apocalyptic restrictive system where people are only allowed to be one thing and say the book is about standing up to authority and fighting against conformity. Many characters even say as such. But remember the Twilight example? How books can say through their details themes that contradict what the characters in-universe declare to be so? In Divergent, there are 5 factions, but only one of them has any real government power, the same one main girl is from. The bad guys are the ones who start advocating for for equal government representation for the other groups. Main girl immediately clocks them as bad and evil. They later use mind control for genocide. Second book, what about the people who don’t fit in the faction system? They all live in poverty and naturally want to abolish the old system in favor of something new. Main girl thinks this is a bad idea. The revolutionaries later commit more genocide. Third book, secret scientists who have been running the show the whole time want to wipe everyone’s memories/kill everyone to start over. Main girl dies stopping the bad guy from doing a third genocide, the series ends with the restrictive faction system firmly in place and more people joining it from outside because it works just so darn well. Every single character or group who wants to make more than the smallest changes to the status quo are consistently framed as callus, bloodthirsty villains. By the end, nothing has changed except the visitation rules between factions aren’t as strict. This is framed as a good thing. But most teens who read the books didn’t notice these troubling themes, because the story is dressed up in the the imagery and language of fight-the-power dystopian YA of the time. It’s all surface-level. The book tells you that it’s against conformity, even though it shows how deviations from the norm are dangerous and get people hurt so it’s better for everyone if everything stays the same. And that’s just one angle wrong with this series.
If this was the only book a teenager ever read, they would not be able to pick up on this. I am because i’m an adult with years of analytical study and practice, with hundreds of books under my belt. But i got to where i am because my teachers forced me to expand my horizons beyond warrior cats and realize that a story could be more than just a story.
tl;dr: deficiencies in the education system are not the fault of the books being taught. those books are taught for a reason. if you want to be an anti-intellectual, do it on your own time
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plan-d-to-i · 3 years
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(google translate again, yeah)
(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)
I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?
I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.
I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...
Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)
Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.
In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...
What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.
salt up here, quotes below :
Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.
Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”
But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :
A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”
and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.
Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”
and again
Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”
Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts
Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.
jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:
“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”
-
Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”
“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”
“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.
He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :
Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”
It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :
“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”
A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.
Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.
Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”
Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”
After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.
WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.
[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”
“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....
Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”
“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”
“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."
WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.
"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never
WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :
When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”
Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.
From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.
he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.
This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?
Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”
“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”
Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”
“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!
“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”
Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.
Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :
“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.
“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”
Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.
“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”
BONUS
jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:
The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.
Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”
The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.
“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.
Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.
He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.
Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.
On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.
Translation source : x
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donald4spiderman · 3 years
Text
Sweating, And A Lesson On Self-Worth
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masterlist
Summary: Spencer finds himself falling for his NAT (new agent training) defensive tactics coach.
Pairing: SR x Fem!Reader *described as petite to give the illusion of assumed vulnerability when IRL she’s a badass— no other specific physical details are mentioned*
Category: Fluff
TW: Mentions of body image, general CM talk, mentions of fighting/grappling/wrestling, small age gap (reader is 28 & reid is 22)
concept inspired by @sierraraeck’s fic “Bad Liar” about Morgan training Spencer. I love wrestling so I wanted to do one about a badass female combat coach/agent.
REBLOG!
-
When Spencer and the rest of the trainees are ushered into the fitness center on their second day at the academy, he almost shits himself. He’s well aware of the physical demands being in the FBI requires, and he’s been dreading the PFT (Physical Fitness Test) since he applied.
There are hundreds of men and women huddled in the middle of the room, anticipating the orientation, and Spencer feels his palms sweat before he’s even started working out. The majority of the trainees are football players, wrestling’s, and weight lifters— he can tell by their muscular build and general atmosphere of strength and confidence.
SSA Jesse Fallon introduces their defensive tactics coach for the next twenty weeks— a petite but athletic woman. She’s dressed in a gray t-shirt and flexible khaki pants— Spencer would be lying if he said she didn’t look gorgeous, even in the bland attire.
“I’m SSA and defensive tactics coach (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She introduces herself, giving a warm smile to the crowd. “I’ve been an SSA for five years and the head coach of this portion of the academy for two. This is my third official wave of trainees— and believe me— I won’t be going easy on any of you.”
Light laughter disperses through the crowd, and Spencer wears an uneasy look on his face.
“Today, I’ve prepped stations for each of you to cycle through for the next three hours. Agent Rivera is monitoring the weapon defense; Agent Glover is in charge of the takedowns; And I’ll be handling hand-to-hand combat and grappling. You’ll spend an hour at each station, run a mile at the end, and then you’re done for the day. Sound good?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Choruses through the crowd.
SSA (Y/N) clasps her hands together, “Alright, you know your groups. Split up!”
-
Spencer’s assigned to the takedown station first. Agent Glover’s criticisms are primarily nonconstructive, and Spencer struggles with apprehending and cuffing his more robust and much more muscular partner on the floor. He’s never trained this hard for anything in his life, physically, speaking. He’s half-dead within the first hour, and he dreads having to do this two more times.
His next stop is with Agent Rivera, who’s much kinder to Spencer than his prior. Reid is better at disarming his opponent, but his long limbs flail wildly due to his incoordination— he’s trying his best, but he sees the way everyone else giggles at him. It’s a blow to the chest that leaves him defeated more than any gunshot could.
The last hour is spent working at SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s station. She commands the attention of the entire group so naturally, despite being considered a rookie, she has an intimidating amount of knowledge.
“How many of you are wrestlers or judokas?” About sixty percent of the group raises their hand, and Spencer scans around for who might have the strength to kill him with one blow.
“Good,” She smiles. “This will come naturally to you, then. Now, a head-and-arm throw most likely won’t work in the field— so, sorry, judokas. However, double legs, body locks, and blast-doubles are constantly used to take down an unsub with minimal injury to the agent. Even someone as short as me can use leverage to grapple and control a much taller person.” (Y/N) scans the crowd of trainees for a moment before pointing directly at Spencer.
“You, come here.” She commands, and Spencer waddles nervously up next to her on the mat. “This is...”
He’s confused for a moment before realizing she’s asking for his name. “S-Spencer Reid.”
“Hi, Spencer.” She smiles. “How tall are you?”
“Six foot two.”
“Spencer has the advantage of almost a whole foot of height against me. But, I can use his higher center of gravity to tip him over more easily. We do this a lot in wrestling— being low to the ground and agile is important.”
(Y/N) firmly plants her hands on Spencer’s shoulder, moving him so that he’s turned to the side. “This move is called a modified blast double— it prioritizes attacking the ankles and knees rather than the knees and abdomen.”
She leans in closer to Spencer, “Don’t post your wrist out when you fall.” She whispers in his ear, sending chills down his spine. “Keep your neck tucked too.” Her breath is warm and minty, and Spencer almost forgets that he has 30 other people watching him.
“I’m going to simulate an active attack with Spencer. Doing this move in a wrestling match is much more controlled than against a rogue criminal playing by their own rules. They might have a melee or close-range weapon like a knife or hammer on them, so it’s important to make this move when the best opportunity strikes.”
“Spencer’s going to run at me and attempt to land a punch to my face.” She gives him a nod, and he chambers over to her.
Swiftly crouching lower to the ground, she launches herself towards him, gripping the back of his ankles and pushing her shoulder into his knees, and suddenly he’s flying back onto the mat. She follows through, straddling Spencer’s hips and covering his movements with an arm under his neck.
He’s out of breath as he watches the beautiful SSA leaning above him. His head is slightly sore from the impact, but overall he feels... invigorated.
“You never let your opponent fall onto the ground without covering them. Straddling your opponent allows you to keep them down while having full use of your fists.” She swings her leg off of Spencer, standing up. She reaches a hand out and quickly yanks him up.
“Find someone and drill that move. I’m coming around to help all of you.”
She gives Spencer a firm pat on his back, to which he blushes furiously, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth.
-
Spencer spent the rest of the hour getting slammed onto the mat over and over by various men and women. His entire shirt is soaked, and his breathing is so labored he thinks he’s going to faint. SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N) might have appeared at ease earlier in the day, but she wasn’t kidding when she promised she would work them to no end. Everyone was at the brink of death when they approached the last lap of their mile— Spencer at risk of passing out more than others.
The relief he feels after completing his tenth lap around the gym is euphoric. Trainees collapse onto the ground with exhaustion all around him.
“Great job today.” SSA (Y/N) compliments happily. “I appreciate all the effort you guys showed today. It better still be here in four months.” And with that, she excuses them, along with the agents monitoring each station.
Spencer’s one of the last agents to trickle out of the gym. His legs feel like jello when he walks, and his lungs burn.
He almost makes it past the threshold of the door before his name is called.
“Dr. Reid.” She beckons him over with a finger. “May I talk to you for a moment.”
Spencer nervously shuffles over. “Yes, SSA (Y/L/N)?”
“I applaud your effort at training today. I can tell you were working hard.” He blushes. “But I’ve been informed that the board is willing to wave all physical training requirements for your acceptance into the FBI.”
“Yeah... I-I uh figured they’d want me for my IQ only.” He jokes nervously, shrugging his shoulders. He knows it’s disrespectful not to look her in the eye, but she intimidates him too much.
She laughs, and it’s a sweet, joyful sound that Spencer can’t get enough of. She’s powerful and radiant— stealing attention from everyone else. “You’re charming, and your reputation precedes you.”
Charming? Since when has little Spencer Reid ever been charming? He smiles awkwardly, looking off to the side to hide his blush.
“You know, the forensics department wants their hands on the trainee with the chemistry doctorate, and the surveillance department wants the kid with eidetic memory, and word has it that you speak more than four languages, so everyone wants their fair share.”
“W-why are you telling me this?” Spencer asks, voice shy and barely above a whisper.
“Because,” she places a tender hand on his shoulder, “You need to carry yourself with more confidence, Spencer. I saw you— surrounded by all those athletes— it made you feel out of place. I get it.”
“How d-do you get it?”
“I was 23 years old when I became an SSA, surrounded by people two decades older than me. I felt like the office secretary— constantly getting pushed around by people I was afraid to upset. But the thing is, Spencer, you need to demand respect from other people. I’m not saying you need to be arrogant or be a bully, but you are one of— if not the most promising agent trainee— and you need to realize your self-worth.”
“I’m smart, I-I know that. But I’m not strong or athletic by any means.” He sighs, gripping the duffle bag slung across his shoulder tightly.
“That’s alright. You’re not going to be Kyle Dake overnight. But you can’t beat yourself up about it.” (Y/N) chuckles lightly.
Spencer thinks for a moment, “T-thank you... for uh saying all those nice things about me.”
“They're true.” She nods.
“I think I’ll continue with the defensive tactics training. I could um use it.” Its partially true, but he’s most inclined to stick around because of the kind and beautiful SSA that’ll be training him.
“Yay! That’s great, Spencer.” She cheers, wrapping him in a hug that’s a little too friendly to be professional. He accepts despite being drenched in sweat.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around Spencer, and she pats him on the back twice before pulling away like a proud mentor would. He can’t decide if (Y/N) would be a better girlfriend or a better teacher. If she would, he’d prefer for her to be both. He’d give her all he had to offer if she’d allow him.
He doesn’t recognize the smile that plays on her lips, and it’s a foreign feeling for the aggressive and focused SSA. She hasn’t felt something like this in a while, especially not for a nerdy trainee named Dr. Spencer Reid.
“Hit the showers.” She teases. “You stink.”
Spencer nods furiously, “Y-yeah, of course. Thank you, again, SSA—“
“Just call me (Y/N).”
“T-thank you, (Y/N).” He smiles, scurrying out of the gym and into the hallway as giddy as ever.
(Y/N) knows she can’t pursue this— at least, not right now. She’ll give it a few years to let him settle in the FBI (his acceptance is inevitable) if she can be patient for that long. All she knows is that eventually, she wants the awkwardly adorable boy to be hers— and she wants to be his.
i’m so proud of this fic but sry i got carried away talking about wrestling i love it sm
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outercrasis · 3 years
Text
Sessions
Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: Mature (18+)
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)
Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)
A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Lingering Impressions
Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.
Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.
"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."
You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."
"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.
Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.
It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.
“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.
“God yes.”
“Long day then?”
You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”
She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them. 
Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.
As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.
“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.
“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.
“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.
"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"
Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"
You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.
The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”
You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”
You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.
“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.
“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.
“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.
“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.
You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?” 
There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 
The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.
Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.
Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself. 
All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.
It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?
As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.
Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.
"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.
You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts. 
Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar. 
Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.
×××××
Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep. 
He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.
Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.
He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.
There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.
She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.
He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.
He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.
She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.
She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing. 
What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.
She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.
That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.
Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.
Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.
Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”
She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like. 
Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.
An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift. 
Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu. 
There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.
.
.
.
taglist: @honestly-shite​ @booksarekindaneat​ @wonderless-screwup​ @pinkninja200​ @captain-jebi​ @ajeff855​ @leias-rebelion​ 
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 💕
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babyjamiebarnes · 4 years
Text
Build-A-Bear
Part One
Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters
Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence
Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?
Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!
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No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.
Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.
The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.
You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.
On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.
Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.
“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.
“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.
“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”
Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.
“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”
He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.
“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”
The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.
“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.
“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”
He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.
The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.
“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”
When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.
“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”
“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.
“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.
“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”
“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
“How old are you?” you asked immediately.
“I’m 21.”
Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.
“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”
“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.
“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”
He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”
He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”
For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.
You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.
“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”
“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”
“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”
“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”
“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.
As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.
“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”
“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”
You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”
Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.
“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”
“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.
You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.
“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”
“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.
“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.
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An Unfortunate Predicament - Part 2
I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of likes on my last post, and so I was inspired to continue yesterday's fic and write a part 2... The ideas flow while I'm writing the lead-in portion, and then I get to the tickling part and my brain goes ----does not compute---- and short circuits, so... hopefully this turned out ok!
Part one is here
Word count: 2300
* * *
You weren’t sure if he actually expected that you would willingly come down to greet the Avengers when they arrived home that evening, just so that you could keep your end of the deal. Regardless, you weren’t dumb enough to come out of your room when you finally heard the commotion that was your teammates entering the tower (mostly because Thor’s boisterous voice echoed in every corner of the building.) Just to be on the safe side, you remained in your room for the rest of the evening, scrolling through your phone and watching some TV to keep yourself entertained.
The following morning, you awoke to your stomach growling so loudly you thought Wanda could probably hear it through the wall in her room next door. Having hidden away for the entire evening, you realized you hadn’t eaten an actual meal last night, having only munched on some chips you had stashed away in your desk for when you got hungry while you worked. Reluctantly, you knew you would have to actually exit your room if you wanted to get some breakfast.
Besides – he must have forgotten by now, right?
… Of course not, you remembered. Loki doesn’t forget when someone crossed him, and he certainly didn’t forgive either.
Despite your knowing it was probably a very bad idea, you slipped on your softest pair of socks in hopes they would help muffle your footsteps before pressing your ear to the door, trying to hear whether there was anyone talking or shuffling about outside. Satisfied when you were met only with silence, you gradually cracked the door open and peeking cautiously out into the hallway.
Empty. Perfect.
As quickly as you could while still ensuring your every step was soundless, you tiptoed your way to the kitchen down the hall, pausing at the doorway to listen for any signs of movement. Nothing. Perfect. You leaned forward and peeked around the door frame, your weight shifted to the balls of your feet in case you needed to make a quick exit. Your eyes scanned the room from corner to corner, even glancing under the table and at the cabinet doors to assess for anything that might indicate someone was hiding in there.
Ok, so maybe you were a little paranoid.
Seeing nothing out of place, no cabinet doors cracked ajar or anything, you let out a breath and stepped into the room. You reached the fridge and opened the door slowly so as not to allow it to make that suction noise it always did. Someone had stolen the last yogurt cup apparently. Slightly annoyed, you scanned the fridge trying to decide what you wanted instead. You settled on a bowl of cereal, grabbing the bottle of milk and turning around to get the cereal box out of the cabinet.
“Eep!”
Heart leaping into your throat, you let out a sound that was somewhere between a scream and a squeak when you found yourself face to face with none other than the god of mischief himself, his face mere inches away from yours. In your shock, your fingers slipped from around the handle of the milk bottle. It would have exploded all over the floor had Loki not reached out and caught it with his cat-like reflexes before it hit the ground. He leaned toward you to place the milk bottle on the counter directly behind you, boxing you in with your back against the countertop.
“You didn’t show up to the common room last night.” He had a deep, menacing edge to his tone as he made this simple observation, his narrowed eyes and wide smirk only reinforcing the fact that you were in deep trouble.
Fight or flight instinct took over, and you rapidly ducked under his arm and started to sprint away from the trickster. Unfortunately, he had predicted this move, his hand latching onto your upper arm before you could even take two steps.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Ahah… well, you see, I have a really important assignment I have to get done, and I just came down here to grab some breakfast to take back to my room while I work, and…”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” he chuckled.
“… yes?” you replied, your voice increasing an octave with nervousness. Loki shook his head, giving you a pitying look.
“Darling, I am the god of lies and mischief. I know a lie when I hear one.” You tried to jerk your arm abruptly out of his grasp in hopes it would catch him off guard, but he merely tightened his grip on your bicep. “I do believe we have some unfinished business, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Really? Because I thought we were done with that, actually…” you stammered, frantically scanning the room for some way to escape. Your eyes darted back to Loki, catching his gaze as he realized what you were doing.
“Sorry, but there’s no way out of this,” he declared. In one fluid motion, Loki had scooped you up off the floor into his arms, holding fast despite your kicking and squirming. You hadn’t realized you could become any more flustered around the god, but he had proven you wrong just now, your face burning hot. He started to make his way out of the kitchen, careful not to slam your head into the doorframe as he carried you out into the hallway.
“Loki! Put me down this instant!” you demanded, kicking your legs to try to throw him off balance.
“Hmm… no, actually, I don’t think I will,” he teased, tossing you up just the slightest bit so he could gain a better grip on you.
“Where are you taking me, then?” you growled. You could hear faintly the voices of the other Avengers in the common area, growing slightly louder as Loki continued to stroll along with you still captive in his grasp. “Really? You’re still going to make me announce that you’re ‘the superior prankster’ to the team? Don’t you think that’s sort of lame?”
“No, darling. I have more effective methods of humiliating you.” His eyes flitted down to glance at your face, his smirk expanding across his.
Was it possible to die from blushing so hard?
When Loki had finally reached the opening to the common room, the rest of the team glanced up at the two of you with immediate expressions of confusion.
“Good morning, lady Y/N! Why is my brother carrying you? Are you injured?” Thor asked, genuinely concerned.
“No! He’s holding me prisoner! Help!” you cried, starting to squirm again to try to get him to put you down. Tired of having to keep hiking you up to keep from dropping you, Loki finally lowered your legs so you could plant your feet on the floor. He wrapped an arm around you tightly, pinning you to his side so you couldn’t run off.
“Is that true, Loki?” Thor inquired, squinting at him.
“I just thought you’d like her to be here when I inform you all that I found her on the ropes course yesterday,” Loki announced. To your confusion, the entire team let out groans of frustration.
“What the hell?! We’ve been trying to decide who was going to make you try it with all of us! You never wanted to join in!” Peter complained. You raised your eyebrows in shock.
“Wait, what? Why are we changing the subject, here?? Do none of you care that he is holding me captive??” you protested.
“Sorry, Y/N, but this is unforgivable,” Tony sighed with mock disappointment, shooting you a mischievous wink. “The ropes course is a team-building activity. There’s no ‘I’ in team.”
“But… what… ugh. You guys are unbelievable,” you groaned, shaking your head.
“Don’t worry – that’s not all I learned about our devious little mortal yesterday,” Loki began. You immediately tensed up, heart pounding impossibly faster, although you weren’t sure if it was because of what you knew was coming next or because you were mortified to find you actually liked the unusual pet name he just used to refer to you.
“Oh really? Do tell,” Bucky urged, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in anticipation.
“You see…” Loki reached over and grasped your wrists, yanking your arms behind your back so he could hold both wrists with just one hand. You looked up at him and bit your lip, shaking your head rapidly in desperate, silent protest. He merely grinned, wiggling the fingers of his free hand in the air at you to taunt you even further. You had to fight to keep yourself from allowing anticipatory giggles to slip out. “… our little friend, here, is devastatingly ticklish.”
Without further ado, Loki’s hand darted down to your side, squeezing rapidly as laughter immediately began pouring from your mouth. You twisted your upper body in hopes you could break his hold, but you quickly realized there was no escaping the vice grip he had on your wrists. Defeated, and weakened from laughter, your knees buckled, and you slowly sank to the floor. Loki only followed you down, finally letting go of your wrists in favor of freeing his other hand up to torment you. He moved his hands to your belly, scratching at it in the most maddeningly light and rapid way, eliciting a shriek from you.
“Oh, no way! She really is ticklish!” Peter exclaimed over your laughter.
“Damn. She’s worse than this kid,” Tony observed, patting Peter on the shoulder as he blushed and glared at his mentor.
“WHY AREN’T YOU HELPING MEHEHE!” you shouted, throwing your friends a betrayed look.
“Sorry, Y/N, but you’re just too damn adorable to make him stop,” Bucky apologized, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Meanwhile, Loki had pressed one of his shins down on both your legs, leaning on you to hold you down as his fingers traveled up to your sides. He drilled his thumbs into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.
“Why don’t you try her knees?” Wanda suggested with a smirk.
“Wanda!! Why are you helping hiHIHIHIM!” your voice pitched up an octave as Loki began to pinch the soft skin just above your kneecap, sending ticklish shocks up your leg.
“Thank you for the suggestion,” Loki said casually, removing his shin from your legs so he could reach around and flutter his fingers against the backs of your knees. Without his weight on you, you were free to kick your legs and squirm to try to escape. If you accidentally kicked Loki in the process, well, that was just an added bonus. At least, you thought so, until he wrapped his fingers around one of your ankles and dragged a finger down the sole of your socked foot to test your reaction.
“NOHOHO LOKI STAHAHAP!” you pleaded, jerking your leg wildly without success. Loki shot you a positively evil smile before lightly scratching five fingers up and down the bottom of your foot. You covered your face with your hands to hide the fact that you had never felt shyer and more embarrassed in your life, muffling your laughter behind your palms.
“Aww, lady Y/N, there’s no need to hide!” Thor insisted, kneeling down beside you and pulling your hands off your face.
“Ah, brother! Why don’t you help me hold her down? She is making this increasingly difficult,” Loki suggested, moving back up to torment your ribs again.
“Certainly, brother!” Thor obliged, tightening his grip on your wrists, and pinning them above your head. You shot him the biggest glare you could possibly muster in your frazzled state.
“THOR! That’s BETRAYAL!” you exclaimed. “What the h-“ Loki started to scribble his fingers into the soft skin under your arms and the remainder of your sentence died in your mouth, your body shaking in silent laughter. At long last, Loki finally took this as his cue to let up, tracing feather-light fingers along your sides to keep you giggling.
“What an unfortunate weakness you have. So easy to exploit,” he teased. Your blush spread down to your neck and up to the tips of your ears. Luckily, Thor let go of your wrists so you could cover your face again, doing anything in your power not to see the arrogant look of victory on Loki’s face.
“Whyhyhy Loki?” you groaned as he finally stopped torturing you. You immediately rolled onto your side and curled up in a ball, rubbing the residual ticklish tingles off your sides.
“Well, darling, I had to make a statement… Don’t mess with the god of mischief,” he warned, referring back to the prank you’d pulled when you hid his books.
“U-understood,” you acknowledged firmly, your breathing finally returning to normal.
“Well – that was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. My day is made,” Tony teased, reaching down to pat you on the shoulder and causing you to flinch away involuntarily. “Relax, kid! You clearly need a break, I’m not that mean!”
“Sorry… reflex,” you mumbled. Loki stood and offered you a hand to help you up off the floor, which you took after a moment’s hesitation. “You… better not do that again, or I’ll… I’ll… punch you.”
“Really, darling? That was the weakest threat you’ve ever made,” he snickered. "Clearly you're losing your touch." Throwing your hands up in frustration, you turned around to walk back to your room, suddenly realizing you were still in your pajamas. “And I can’t make any guarantees,” he called after you, “so you’d better behave yourself!” You turned around and stuck your tongue out at him, eliciting a laugh, before you turned down the hallway and made your way to your bedroom door.
Note to self, you thought – Loki doesn’t do mercy.
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untaemedqueen · 4 years
Text
Graceful Gods (M)
Greek God!Jeongguk x Human!Reader
WordCount: 26k (Oh ho, tuck in)
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Slight Crack, Strangers to Lovers!AU, Greek God!AU
Warnings: Marking, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Begging, Praise, Multiple Orgasms, Bondage, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Jeongguk, Impreg Kink, Riding, Squirting, Cream Pie, Jeongguk Has Glittery Cum
A/N: THIS HAS BEEN MY BABY FOR A HOT MINUTE! I’m so fucking proud of this fic and I did so much research that my head might explode and Greek Letters will come out! Thank you to @lunarlxve​ and @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​ for beta reading it and giving me awesome feedback! Thank you to @ladyartemesia​ who literally pushed me to write something so awesome AND SHE MADE A FUCKING GORGEOUS BANNER. LIKE DO YALL SEE THAT?! Anyway I hope you really enjoy it because my heart is so warm for this fic!
Eros, the Greek god of love, sexual desire and attraction
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“At the center of Greek mythology is a pantheon of deities who live on Mount Olympus, the highest mountain in Greece. Every aspect of human life was ruled by these deities. There were twelve main Olympians who ruled over such aspects. Olympian gods and goddesses are said to look much like women and men of this world but could also change their appearances into whatever they liked, animals and things of that nature. Most people know of the common gods, such as Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. But, there are others such as Dionysus- the god of wine, Aphrodite- the goddess of beauty and love, and even Hermes- the god of travel, who was in fact the personal messenger of Zeus. If you’ve watched the movie Hercules you’ll-” Professor Song’s voice becomes drowned out by the snort that comes from your left. You roll your eyes before craning your neck forward to keep listening to the lecture. You’ve always had an affinity to mythology of any kind since you were a child but, as you grew up Greek mythology stood out the most to you. You became enamored with it and decided to become a mythologist. You’ve heard of these tales countless times but you could always hear them once more.
A cough comes from next to you as you listen to the tale of Hephaestus and you roll your eyes once more before putting your hand underneath your chin. You jot down notes dutifully before looking up as Professor Song begins to wrap up the class. “For the last portion of your grade, you will all be assigned to work with a partner. The theme of your project is Graceful Gods, a study on partnerships between the gods and goddesses. You may choose whichever two gods and goddesses you may like that have had a connection with one another. Now, this doesn’t mean to watch Hercules a bunch of times and comment on those relationships between cartoons.” 
The class erupts into small giggles and you find yourself snorting at the lame joke. “Since I know that most of you cannot put yourselves together properly, looking at you Haeyun and Jowoon-” You giggle at his call out before paying attention again, “-you will all work with the person directly next to you at your tables.” Your eyes glance over to the long haired boy by next to you and you inwardly groan.
You know of him, of course you do. Who hasn’t heard of him on campus, he’s a fuckboy that enjoys preying on the hearts of innocent girls. To be fair, he is one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen in your life. His long black hair fell just above his chin and as he looks at you, you can see his coffee brown eyes with flecks of mocha mixed in. He smirks at you and your first instinct is to immediately swoon but you stop yourself and roll your eyes instead. His smirk only widens letting you view the way his eyes squint slightly as his head tilts. “I’m Jeongguk.”
His voice is melodic, dripping with saccharin sweetness and your body tenses up at his tone. He was smooth and of course, he knows it but you wouldn’t budge. You just wouldn’t. “Do you have a name? Or should I call you Nemesis?” 
So he knows more about mythology then he lets on. You take in his posture, the way he leans back in his chair smugly, legs stretched out in front of him as he folds his arms. He has no backpack, no notebooks or anything of the sort that is required. “Hello? Nemesis?” His hand waves in front of your face and you grimace at him before pushing your chair back. 
“Y/N.” Your answer is short and he nods thoughtfully at the name as if it held some sort of riddled meaning. His hand digs into his ripped black jeans before pulling out his phone. “Put your number in so I can contact you. We can meet up whenever you aren’t gagging over Ares.”
You shut your notebook before staring at the phone in his hand. “I do not gag over Ares.” 
He snorts before throwing his phone into your lap, dragging his thumb over his bottom lip as he looks you over. His expression is somewhat amused before putting his fist underneath his chin, “Song was talking about him and I saw your thighs twitch, he isn’t all that by the way.” You shove your notebook into your backpack before freezing. He sounds so comfortable with this subject, it’s almost as if he knows him.
“Oh yeah? How would you know?” 
“How would I know what?” He snorts, a gentle breathy noise as people begin to get up and leave the lecture hall. “How do you know that he isn’t all that?”
He stares at you for a second before laughing loudly, his eyes crinkle as his mouth opens wide showing off a dimple on his cheek. You swallow gently as your eyes scan his handsome face. You zone in on the beauty mark beneath his bottom lip and you have to rip your eyes away before licking your lips. 
“Did you know that Ares is one of the most disliked gods on Olympus? He has a quick temper and nasty disposition. Just because he’s handsome doesn’t mean he’s the greatest guy ever. He didn’t beat Herc when he fought him. So, he was unsuccessful. He pissed off Poseidon enough to physically murder his son. He had an affair with Aphrodite! She’s a beautiful soul and he just fucking stole her away. He’s an asshole and, you can’t fucking please him to save your life!” He rants carding his fingers through his hair, and you can see a vein begin to protrude in his neck as it flushes pink. He knows a LOT about mythology it would seem. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to work on a project with him then.
“Interesting how you know you can’t please him.” You jeer as you pick up his phone. His scoff is loud before looking to the wooden floor and widening his eyes. He gives a small embarrassed chuckle as you throw his phone back into his lap. You look at his worn leather jacket before standing up. “Hit me up when you want to work on the project.” 
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Your eyes flicker to your phone again, looking at the black screen before scoffing. “So what he hasn’t texted you. It isn’t like he HAS too. He’s a fuckboy. He’ll do what he pleases.” You mock to yourself before stepping out of your apartment.
Your walk to the university was relatively short, your eyes flicker down as you spin your phone in hand. It’s been two days since you last saw him and you can’t stop thinking about the handsome guy. Maybe it was because he just dripped with this kind of allure that you wanted to know of. Or, maybe it was because he was so comfortable talking about things that you find interesting. You can recall when you first met Jeon Jeongguk. How you swooned at the sight of him before getting a general dislike for him.
You had heard tales of the hot guy on campus, the man that was always leather clad with tattoos and dangling earrings. You never hung with people in your university, for the simple fact that you wanted to just push past this awkward phase in your life and do what matters most to you but you did have one friend before he graduated. A certain Jung Hoseok that would take time out of his day to make sure you were alright and be a shoulder to lean on. “That’s him. That’s the fuckboy.” He whispers in your ear as you press your bag closely to your chest.
You look over as he sits on a bench, legs crossed as his arms extend over the top of the bench. He was surrounded by girls, fawning over him leaving drinks and snacks for him to eat. You scoff gently as his head turns in your direction. “Who does he think he is? The Messiah?” 
He looks you over and you feel your breath catch in your throat. The first thing you notice about him is his bone structure. Underneath the beating sun you can see the way his sharp jaw calls out to you as he tilts head at you. He smirks, just the corner of his lips flick upwards and Hoseok whistles next to you. “That’s a whole meal right there, bitch.” 
His golden skin sings under the sun's rays as he fixes his leather jacket. You find your body beginning to sway at his gaze before shaking your head and scoffing loudly. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” You narrow your eyes as he snaps his fingers, the girls begin to disperse taking themselves to class and he bows his head to you before smiling widely. You roll your eyes befo-
You’re taken out of your memory as a car horn begins to sound off loudly and you turn your head quickly to the noise before gasping. The car drives towards you without stopping and you feel your body stiffen in shock. Mind going blank as you stare at the car approaching.  
“Nemesis!” You hear before your body is being shoved by a leather clad body. You feel your body become coddled to the other body before you begin to shiver with the aftereffects of your shock. 
“Zeus above! Are you okay?!” You feel the body pull away before your eyes are greeted with the now familiar coffee irises of Jeon Jeongguk. His black hair falls into his eyes as his eyebrows furrow. You gasp gently before he hugs you close to him.
“Who do you think you are? Hermes? You think you can fucking fly?! How could you be so careless?” He scoffs gently before setting you down on your feet and swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek. His touch sends a shiver down your spine and you shove him off of you before clutching your backpack to your chest. 
“I-I… I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He widens his eyes before putting his hands on your shoulders, “Be careful! We shouldn’t let Hades welcome you to the Underworld any sooner than you should be.” His touch feels comforting before you clear your throat and step back away from him. “I’ll pay more attention. I’m sorry.”
He bites his bottom lip, his beauty mark on display before he is sighing gently. “Let’s get you to class, Nemesis.” 
The walk towards the lecture hall was quiet and awkward as he stayed next to you. His tall form shadows yours as he puts his hand on the small of your back. You can hear girls whispering and staring and you shrink in form. He clears his throat before snapping his fingers. The whispers begin to die down and you find yourself looking up at him as he gives you a small smile. “Thank you for that back there.” 
He chuckles gently before rubbing your back, “Anything for a goddess.” You tilt your head confused and he smiles widely. “Nemesis. Goddess.”
You open your mouth before nodding gently. “Right. Nemesis.” He opens the door to the lecture hall before opening his arm, “Ladies first.”
You clear your throat before walking in first and he follows shortly behind without a second glance at girls as they stare at him. “You-You never texted me.” Your voice sounds feeble and you curse yourself for it. 
He laughs gently before slinging his arm over her shoulder. “You sound upset about it.” You frown before shrugging his arm off of you. “I just wondered when you wanted to work on the project. That’s all.” 
He hums playfully before opening the door to Mythology Lecture Hall, “I can’t leave Nemesis waiting with bated breath.”  You narrow your eyes at him as you ascend the stairs to your table. 
“It’s not bated breath, I just want to get this project over and done with.” You throw your backpack on the floor before taking a seat.
You watch as he sits down next to you, legs stretched out before him as he tilts his head. His eyes roam over your form before smiling. You find your head tilting along with his before your breath hitches. He really is so handsome. You take out your notebook before watching Professor Song enter the lecture hall. You can feel his eyes on you and you pull at the hem of your shirt. Is it hot in here or is it just you?
“Just text me when you want to work on it.” You mumble before pulling at the collar of your shirt. “Yes, ma’am.”
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You stare at your television, Chinese takeout in hand as you spin the chopsticks around. Your mind begins to drift, thinking about your new lab partner. He knows so much about the subject and yet, he pays absolutely zero attention. It’s very interesting. So interesting in fact that it’s hindering you from watching the latest episode of your favorite television show. Your feet kick up on the small wooden coffee table before looking up at the ceiling. He was annoying, that much is sure. He was so smug and sure of himself and it’s irritating but you’ve never given him a second glance since taking this class and it’s been almost a year already. He was gorgeous, you’ll give him that. His sharp jaw and those coffee brown eyes that remind you of a doe. His long black hair that you really wouldn’t mind running your fing-
You’re pulled from your thoughts as a small feline body crawls across the loveseat and onto your lap. “Artemis, you scared me.” You whisper before petting the top of her head and turning your attention back to the television. Jeon Jeongguk is an enigma, a fuckboy enigma and you’ll complete the project and be on your way.
You cross the green grass lawn of the university before parking yourself underneath the same tree you always do. No one ever seemed to come to this secluded area, nor did people really seem interested in sitting underneath a weeping willow tree that hasn’t been taken care of probably since the university was created. But, you liked it, you liked the free nature of it and always take your place under it before class. As you fold your legs underneath you, you take out your book of choice for the day. The Iliad. You’ve read it many times before this but the story never seems to get old. 
“Where was I?” It’s a sin to dog flap pages and it always will be. Your eyes find the page and you smile to yourself. 
“Hera seduces Zeus.” You mumble to yourself, finger trailing over the many lines of text before finding it. Your eyes light up and you tuck in for a good, quiet read before you hear the fluttering of wings nearby. A dove lands before you and you tilt your head to it as it sits down on the grass before you as if it’s studying you. Your nose wrinkles and you look back down at your book, “Would you like me to read to you? It’s a very interesting book. It’s about the Trojan War. It’s from a book called The Iliad.”
The bird makes no move and you shrug before clearing your throat and leaning against the trunk of the tree. “Hera of the golden throne looked down as she stood upon a peak of Olympus and her heart was gladdened at the sight of him who was at once her brother and her brother-in-law, hurrying hither and thither amid the fighting. Then she turned her eyes to Zeus as he sat on the topmost crests of many-fountained Ida, and loathed him. She set herself to think how she might trick his thinking, and in the end she deemed that it would be best for her to go to Ida and array herself in rich attire, in the hope that Zeus might become enamored of her, and wish to embrace her. While he was thus engaged a sw-”
“Why’re you reading to a bird?” The voice makes you jump and you look up as a hand curls around the trunk before revealing the owner of the voice. You sneer at his handsome face as he sits down next to you. 
“I didn’t invite you to sit next to me. And, it’s not just a bird it’s a dove.” His eyes flicker over to it before narrowing his eyes. “Yeah… I see that.”
With the roll of his eyes, he goes to shoo the bird away but it stands its ground making him huff out annoyed. You’ve never seen such a brave bird, how interesting. “Why’re you reading this?” 
He takes the big book from your hands and you fold your arms as he skims through the pages before slamming it shut. The echo resounds through the lawn and you scowl at him. He smirks before holding up the book and you notice how veiny his tattooed arms are. “I can tell you more than this book could, I’m sure.” 
“Oh? Could you? When you never take notes in class or even pay attention? I think last week I heard you snoring next to me.” You mumble before pulling the book out of his hands and pressing it to your chest as if it was protection from the attractive man in front of you. “Yeah but that lesson was on Dionysus, that’s boring shit. He’s a drunk partier big whoop.”
He’s doing it again, talking like he knows them personally. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks I can tell you more about The Iliad without having to even open the book.” You raise an eyebrow at his brazen words before letting your legs stretch out and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to your bare legs as your dress rides up as you move. Frazzled, Jeon?
“I’ve read this book a handful of times. I want to do this as a job, you do realize that? You can’t lie to me.” He copies your actions, hands pressing the ground behind him as he stretches. His foot presses against yours and the dove walks closer. 
“Oh my gods! Would you please get lost?!” He asks the dove loudly who just sits down closer to the both of you. You snort before looking back over at him. “Twenty bucks.” 
His tongue sweeps over his perfectly shaped lips before smirking. “You’re on Nemesis.”
“Who does Zeus send a dream to, to attack Troy?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes before giving a fake yawn.
“Agamemnon. Next, what is this kindergarten?” You open your mouth surprised at his answer before shaking your head and clearing your throat.
“While fighting who does Diomedes kill?” That’ll stump him, it’s a trick question. 
“He killed many Trojans but the only one he killed of any importance was Pandaros. Who before you get snippy was an aristocrat and not a god or goddess.” You frown before your fingers begin to skim the back of your book. He sure knows his stuff.
“Ah! Who drove back the Trojans?!”
“Oh good gods above. Achilles. Who cut like, half the population of them at the river Skamandros. The river became filled with them and I hear it also smelt like shit.” You giggle gently at his joke before sighing and digging in your bag. You grab your wallet before pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “Here. Go buy your girls ice cream or something.” He snatches up the bill with a wide smile before it falters.
“Girls? What girls?” He folds his arms, hand crumpling up the bill of cash before tilting his head. His eyes are alight with confusion and you find yourself stuttering as you shove your book back into your bag. “You fuck like half the campus, Jeongguk. Everyone knows this.”
“Oh, do they now? How are you so well informed about this information if you stay by yourself all the time like Oizys?” Calling you the goddess of misery and suffering? You scoff gently before standing up, “I have ears and eyes also I’m not Oizys. I just like to be by myself.”
He hums playfully as you walk away, “You’re right, Nemesis! Sorry!” He chuckles to himself as the dove flies onto his lap. “Mother, can you go away? You’re embarrassing me, Zeus above.” He stands up quickly before calling after you.
“Nemesis! Wait up! You mad I didn’t text you yet?” 
He chased you all the way to the lecture hall before taking his seat next to you. You pull out your notebook and pen before looking over at him. Empty handed yet again. You snort before giving Professor Song your attention as he enters the room. 
“Today we’re going to be talking about Apate.” Jeongguk gasps gently next to you. “Your sister.” You roll your eyes at him before turning your head. 
“I’m not Oizys. Shut up.” He snickers before leaning closer to you, “She’s a bitch anyway. You aren’t, you're just...sheltered and cute.”
You frown at his statement before paying attention to Professor Song, the cap of the pen purchased between your teeth as you narrow your eyes at the white board.
“Apate- the goddess of deceit was the daughter of Nyx, the personification of night. Apate was the sister of several others such as Oizys- the goddess of suffering, Geras- the god of old age, Moros- the embodiment of doom and many others of that nature-” Song’s voice becomes drowned out as you hear Jeongguk’s chair scrape closer to yours. You could feel his breath fanning your face, he was so close and you stuck your neck out to try and pay attention. His smell was intoxicating, the smell of honey, pine and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. Something that pulled your body towards his as if he was your polar magnet. 
“Did you know that Apate once gifted Dionysus with buckets of wine to distract him from giving Ariadne a crown but it didn’t work?” Jeongguk whispers in your ear, your body shudders at his smooth voice. Goosebumps grace your skin as you side eye him, his long black hair falls into his eyes as he smirks. His tongue licks over his lips and you suddenly find yourself questioning how he would taste.
You squeeze your eyes shut as he leans into your ear, “I can teach you a lot more than Song, if you let me.” 
There was nothing in books about the tale that Jeongguk just told and yet, you find yourself believing him. You open your mouth to speak before you hear a throat clear. “Jeongguk, since you happen to know so much you feel the need to talk, why don’t you tell us about the tale of Hera and Zeus?” 
You cringe before looking over at him, he fixes his leather jacket before leaning back in his seat. All of the lecture hall is looking at your table and you feel yourself shrinking in your seat. “The tale of Hera and Zeus? He cheated on his wife. So Hera begged Apate to get revenge for her, but Apate made her beg on her hands and knees before agreeing. Semele had Dionysus, the drunken little idiot and Apate gave Hera a magical girdle. She tricked Semele into asking Zeus to see his real self and then Semele died because of it. Humans cannot view gods in their true forms. Their little brains can’t handle it. Oh! Also, when Semele died it rained with thunder and lighting for a year.” 
Professor Song’s jaw opens in shock before raising an eyebrow, “That’s sort of how it went. There’s nothing in books about rain and the getting on hands and knees part.” Jeongguk shrugs before looking back over at you and smiling. He’s weird. 
“Just...pay attention and no talking Jeon Jeongguk.” He salutes the professor before his leather jacket begins to sag under weight. He digs into his pocket and produces a bag from his jacket pocket. His eyes light up and you look at the woven bag that has a dainty string around it. He stomps his feet happily before looking at you and wrinkling his nose. He opens the bag before pulling out an apple and then another. He puts an apple on your lap before biting his. You watch as the sweet juice coats his lips before dribbling down his chin. It was something simple that has your insides coiling. Fuck, he was too hot for his own good.
“Eat it. Don’t refuse my gift. I’ll be sad.” He says before nodding his head to the apple on your lap. You pick up the apple quizzically before staring at it. You turn the apple in your hand, staring at how perfectly shaped it is. The skin shines brightly and you swallow as your mouth begins to water. It’s the most perfect piece of fruit you’ve ever seen. “It’s from my aunt's special garden. They’re really good.” He whispers as Song looks over.
You shrug before biting into the apple, the sweet taste spreads over your taste buds and your eyes widen. This is the sweetest piece of fruit you’ve ever tasted. “Wow.” You whisper before putting your hand to your chin to wipe off the juices. Jeongguk watches you with amusement before nodding to himself. Like he’s made his own executive decision on something.
“I’ll text you later, want to come over to my apartment to work on the project?” You had almost forgotten all about it before noticing that people are leaving the lecture hall. Class was already over? You were so into your interaction with Jeongguk you hadn’t noticed time fly by so quickly. It wasn’t such a good idea to bring him over your apartment, Artemis doesn’t like very many people. “Sure. Hit me up.”
10:32 Unknown Number: Nemesis, good evening.
You snort to yourself as you lay in bed. You turn on your side, hand sliding underneath your head as you add his number to your phone. 
10:33 You: Hello.
You didn’t know how to feel about him after today. He was always deemed a fuckboy but he doesn’t really seem like the type if you’re being quite honest with yourself. It’s always just what you had heard in passing but watching him get so childlike and excited over an apple? It seemed like he was a bit different. Not to mention his knowledge of Greek mythology was absolutely incredible and you find yourself liking that he likens all of the gods and goddesses like his friends or family. It’s something comfortable to you.
10:34 Hades: Want to come over to work on the project? 
10:34 You: That works for me, I don’t have many classes this week.
10:35 Hades: Perfecto. Anyone you want to choose for the project?
You set the phone down before tapping your fingernails against the back. Who would this project even be about? You hadn’t really given it much thought. You do enjoy a lot of different relationships between the gods and goddesses but your favorite would probably have to be Eros and Psyche. Wouldn’t hurt to see if he was up for it.
10:38 You: Eros and Psyche?
You settle yourself in for bed before looking back down at your phone. He left you on read. You frown before typing to him once more.
10:40 You: We can choose others if you prefer, it was just a suggestion.
10:41 Hades: See you soon, Nemesis.
You stare at the phone before sucking a sharp breath between your teeth and tilting your head. Now, you weren’t an expert at texting but something felt wrong. His answer seemed clipped and you wonder why. Did you hurt his feelings or something? You frown before throwing your phone on the charger and staring up at the ceiling. Enigma Jeon Jeongguk.
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You saw him the next day on the lawn of the university. He was by himself for once, not surrounded by girls or gifts near him. You hid behind the weeping willow tree as you surveyed him. He sat down on the green grass near the tree, pulling at the blades of grass with his head tilted. A dove lands at his feet and he smirks at it before putting his fist underneath his chin. “Hello.” His voice is small as he leans back on his hands. He seems different somehow today, like he was in deep thought over something. 
“Remember I told you that I had a lab partner to work on a project with?” He’s talking to the dove, like a crazy person. He takes off his leather jacket before laying it on the ground and throwing his body on to it. “She wants to work on Eros and Psyche.” 
He stays quiet for a minute before clicking his teeth, “I’m not mad at her or anything. I really like her. She’s funny and cute, interesting.” You feel a blush begin to heat up your cheeks and you sit on the ground behind the tree before pressing your head back to it. “She seems really sweet and she’s very smart and nice.” 
He sighs before ripping up a blade of grass, he groans loudly before putting the palms of his hands to his eyes. “No! I’m going to do what I want without your advice for once! We all know what happened the last time you fucking talked to a woman I liked!” 
He likes you? You stop breathing as you go wide eyed. Heart hammering in delight you press your backpack tighter to your chest before smiling. Even if he was claimed to be this famed fuckboy, your heart feels a bit lighter knowing that he enjoys your presence.
“Just let me figure out if she likes me first. Zeus above!” He sits up before pulling his jacket back on, as he walks towards the lecture hall. He spots your legs behind the tree before stilling. You stomp your feet on the ground and he begins to smirk before heading off.
A few days later he has texted you his address. That was it. Just the address and nothing else. You can’t help but think you fucked up with that text and  you don’t even know how you did it. You had put on comfortable clothes, although your brain was telling you to wear something cuter for god knows what reason. Something about this guy pulled you to him and you are unsure how to feel about it. You’ve never been this way before, you’ve only ever just went about life on your own. But you do know one thing all you have to do is just get this project done and get it over with. That’s all you can hope to do.
Standing in front of his apartment you can smell those same smells you smelt on him yesterday. You could feel your legs quivering for some unknown reason and you lean against the door jamb to collect your breath. You were nervous to be alone with him in such a small space. That’s what you think anyway, but knowing that if you knock on this door right now and he’ll appear makes your heart begin to hammer with delight. You groan gently before making a fist and taking a deep breath. Get the project done and over with. 
You knock on the door before teetering on one foot to the other as you hold your breath. “Coming!” The voice is not of Jeongguk and you tilt your head before releasing your breath.
The door swings open and a handsome man stands before you. Smiling widely as his eyes squeeze shut before tilting his head. 
“Y/N?” You nod slowly as you take him in. He had deep blue hair, dark chocolate eyes, a bright smile and the most plush pink lips you’ve ever seen in your life. He was dressed casually, just blue jeans and a black hoodie and even that seemed sensual. He dripped allure and effervescence as he stepped out of the way. “Come in, Jeongguk is in the shower.”
As you enter, setting your shoes off to the side you let out a low whistle at their apartment. The walls were made of marble, stone pillars in random places that exuded richness. Everything was gold, the furniture, the statues placed on stands and even the filigree of the walls. The blue haired boy walks past you before jumping onto the gold couch and smiling widely as he picks up a glass from the coffee table in front of him. “Wine? I’ve got the good stuff.” You swallow, looking around the living room with a dropped jaw before looking at the man on the couch. 
They’re fucking rich! You notice a dove perch onto the statue of Aphrodite in the corner and suddenly your nodding to the man. “Yes. Wine.” He smiles widely before jumping up, “I’m Jimin by the way. Jeongguk is my cousin.” You nod in amusement before walking towards the Aphrodite statue. 
The statue is pure gold, glimmering underneath the lights of the large chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. The dove bows its head down at you and you smile before waving at it. It looks just like the dove from the great lawn. You reach out to touch the statue before pulling your hand away, it’s almost like you’re in a museum of some sort. There’s a loud purr that catches your attention and you turn your head to the noise before yelping. “That’s Adoneus.” Jimin says cheerily and you narrow your eyes at him.
“That’s a lynx.” He nods happily before handing you the glass of wine, the lynx approaches you and you stiffen as it rubs its head against your thigh. “He’s really friendly, don’t worry. He was a present from my father.” 
He pats the seat beside him before widening his smile at you, his eyes completely disappearing. You find comfort in his smile and you find yourself doing so as well before sitting down next to him. Leaning back you take in his black hoodie for the first time before noticing the thyrsus printed on the front. 
“Do you like Greek mythology too?” You find yourself asking before you could stop yourself. He laughs gently, a short melodic noise before Adoneus sits at his feet. His fingers curl underneath the cat's chin before tilting his head to you. “You could say I embody Greek mythology, Y/N.” 
You take a sip of the wine before widening your eyes, “Good, right? I have the best grapes on the planet.” The taste held so many undertones you couldn’t put your mind on any of them besides one. One that you couldn’t name that you smelt on Jeongguk the day before. “It’s delicious.” 
Jimin hums at your compliment before pointing at the gold caddy by the Dionysus statue in the corner of the room. “I have something else you should try too.”
The crystal vase holds some sort of thick looking honey and you lean forward as he stands up. “It’s the most delicious thing to drink besides my wine. Look, I’ll give you some.” He stands tall before brushing off his pants. His feet pad over to the caddy before flipping over a gold goblet. The glass cork is pulled from the vase and you swallow as he begins to pour the drink. It’s thick, taking it’s time to fall into the cup. “Is it honey?”
He smirks before topping off the glass and holding it out. “Come.” You go to stand before hearing a hall open in the doorway.
Jeongguk appears, shirtless with a towel hung around his neck before narrowing his eyes at the situation in front of him. “Do not drink that. Jimin, please.” Jimin chuckles before putting down the glass. “Y/N seems fun! That’s all.”
You swallow thickly before looking over Jeongguk’s naked upper half. He had an eight pack underneath his golden toned skin, small droplets of water grace his skin as he leaned against the door frame of his room. “Come on Nemesis. Leave Jimin to drink and have fun on his own.” 
Jimin laughs loudly at your nickname before walking back over to the couch and his huge cat. “Nemesis? Seems more like a Psyche to me.” You watch as Jeongguk grimaces before grabbing your wine glass and walking towards him. The closer you get, the tighter your throat gets. Chest restricting as his muscles clench and lax with every breath. You can see his tattoos clearer now, all symbols of Greek mythology. The one that catches your attention the quickest is the dove holding a rose in its beak over his heart. He smirks at you and you find it hard to stand still, knees beginning to quake underneath his molten gaze. He raises his arm above your head letting you enter the room and you thank him quietly before entering. His bed was white with a gold headboard. The room smelt of pine and apples as you stand awkwardly in the doorway. “Come.” His voice is gentle as he passes you to sit by the bed. His arm brushes against yours and you stiffen at the touch. 
“I’m sorry.” You say quickly and he raises an eyebrow drying his hair with the towel. “Sorry? For what?” 
Your feet shuffle towards the end of his bed before clearing your throat. “The other day, you didn’t text me back after I suggested Eros and Psyche and I’m sorry if I upset you.” He tuts his tongue to the roof of his mouth gently before patting the spot beside him. “I’m not mad at you, don’t be silly. Come, sit.”
His tone is soft and you find yourself sitting on the edge of his bed before looking around. He had portraits of gods and goddess littered around the walls and the same kind of gold caddy like in the living room nestled in the corner underneath a statue of Eros. “The story of Eros and Psyche is boring. I’d rather pick something else to do.” 
His admission calls your attention and you can’t help but look at his chest as he leans back on his hands. You have to literally rip your gaze away from him as he begins to smirk. “Boring? It’s a great love story.” He snorts loudly before putting his head back.
“It wasn’t how the story goes. Anyway, I don’t want to do that so can we please just find something else to do?” His tone holds a venom that makes you recoil within yourself before nodding shortly. “Sure.” 
“Hades and Persephone?” You find yourself asking before looking back down at his chest. His skin looks so smooth, if you could only just-
“Some other group will surely do it. We have to do something unconventional and fun. But, nothing with Zeus because he’s a hoe.” You giggle at his joke before licking your lips and looking at his eyes as he winks at you. Your neck heats up and you can feel your ears begin to burn. Your eyes are drawn to his abs again and you clear your throat as your mind begins to get warped with intrigue.
“Can you put on a shirt, please?” It comes out a frail whisper and he tilts his head before chuckling. 
“You can touch them if you want.” He grabs your wrist before putting them on his stomach. His skin is as smooth as you thought, you can feel his abs flex underneath your fingers and your bottom lip purchases between your teeth. Your fingertips press into the muscles and you can hear a strangled noise in the back of his throat, your stomach unfurls in need before you come back to your senses. 
You rip your hand out of his grip before clearing your throat and looking at the Eros statue in the corner. “Please, put a shirt on.” He rubs your shoulder comfortingly before standing up, “Yes ma’am.” 
You had both decided to work on Hephaestus and Aphrodite, working with Jeongguk was quite simple, actually. He was funny and told you funny stories that almost sounded real. You found yourself becoming incredibly comfortable with him throughout the evening you spent together. It made the image of him being a fuckboy seem almost impossible.
“Hephaestus isn’t as ugly as the books say, you know. One time when I was little, I sa- I heard that he looked like a monster but he’s just constantly covered in soot and grease from metalworking. Aphrodite is just never happy if she doesn’t get what she wants.” He mutters before biting the apple in hand. You hum playfully before stretching your legs out next to him as you both lean against the headboard of his bed. “You sure know a lot about these people.” 
He smiles into his bite before pointing at your notebook. “We have a lot of material already. We can just chill if you like, you’re cool. I’d like to spend more time with you.” You blush at his admission before closing your notebook, “Sure.”
He looks at your wine glass before grabbing it and standing. “I’ll get you more Jimin juice.” You giggle before nodding. As he leaves a body walks by the door before stopping. “Oh? Human. Hello!” 
He had silver hair and gold eyes as he wrinkled his nose at you. You swallow at his handsome features, a perfectly sculpted nose and strong jaw. You wave back at him as he smiles widely, the form almost resembling a box before Jimin stops next to him in the hallway. “This is Jeongguk’s brother. Anter- Taehyung! Taehyung!” Taehyung waves once more before clearing his throat. 
“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” His head turns to his cousin and you find yourself blushing at his compliment. Jimin nods happily before turning to you. “You’re very welcome here, Psyche.”
Jeongguk arrives behind the two boys in his doorway and his jaw tightens, “Will you guys get lost please? And stop calling her Psyche.” He steps inside of the room, “She’s nothing like that fucking bitch. Get lost.” The door swings shut in their faces and you raise an eyebrow as he turns back around to you, black hair falling into his eyes. He smiles before handing you the glass of wine. 
“Wanna watch Hercules?!” He asks cutely before jumping back on the bed, you sip the wine before giggling. “Sure.”
“It’s been a real slice.” Jeongguk mumbles along with Meg as you both stare at the television. You can’t help but snort as he side-eyes you. He was nothing like a fuckboy, you’ve decided this within the hour you’ve been watching the movie. “Why does everyone call you a fuckboy?”
He looks over at you before slinging his arm over your shoulders and pausing the movie. “Maybe because I’m really hot.” You blush as he squeezes your shoulder, his face moves closer to yours and you find your breath hitching in your throat. “Maybe because they're liars that just say I’ve fucked them to gain popularity.”
“B-But, you never stop them or tell them to stop.” Your voice sounds weak as he brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Why should I deprive someone of a fantasy? I’m not cruel. If every girl was like you then they would have gotten me.” 
His stare is molten, his pupils blowing out as he looks down at your lips. The compliment makes your body stiffen before you’re ripping your gaze away from his. “You-You-” He pulls away before laughing gently, “Relax, Nemesis. I’m not trying to make you have a heart attack.” 
You feel your palms begin to sweat as he takes the empty wine glass out of your hand. His thumb drifts across your cheek and you feel your body heat up underneath his touch. His tongue swipes across his lips before he’s turning back on the movie. “Pain and Panic are so annoying.”
You find yourself getting drowsy towards the end of the movie, your arms and legs dully whine as you move. You find your eyes fluttering shut as Hercules dives into the Underworld to save Meg. Jeongguk looks over at you as your eyes fully shut before wrinkling his nose. His hand reaches over quietly to the side drawer of his bedside table before grabbing a velvet bag. His fingers pinch the dust inside of it before gently blowing it at your face. “Dream well, pretty girl.” 
He stands tall before stretching and looking at you, your hands press against your chest like a defense mechanism even in your sleep. He pulls the covers over you before opening the window. He whistles gently before looking over at your sleeping figure. “You’re not like Psyche. You would trust me, right?” Wings flutter drawing his attention back to the windowsill before leaning down as a rooster perches on the ledge. 
“Tell Morpheus to send this one sweet dreams of me.” The rooster quirks its head to the side before bowing its head and flying off. The window is sealed shut before Jeongguk leans his back against the window and folds his arms. A smile spreads over your face as you sleep and he wrinkles his nose. He realized how much he did indeed like you, you were different. And, it’s been a very long time since he’s felt drawn to a woman.  “Come to me, Y/N.” 
 Jeongguk throws himself on the couch before slinging his legs onto his brother's lap. “Very nice by the way Jimin, just call Taehyung Anteros in front of everyone, why don’t you?” Jimin rolls his eyes before pouring himself a glass of nectar. 
“I slipped up, sue me. Anteros doesn’t come by every day, I forgot his Earth name. Maybe when Y/N comes out, I’ll slip up and call you Eros.” Jeongguk sneers at his cousin before relaxing into the couch. Taehyung smiles happily before sipping his own drink. “She’s sleeping? She seems very nice. Shy and sweet.” 
Jeongguk watches how his brother's golden eyes dilate as he talks of you. “Watch it. She’s not for you.” Jimin laughs gently before sitting in the gold armchair next to them. “Seems like we’ll get a replay of Psyche.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes before stretching his arms over the top of the couch. “Y/N would trust me, whereas Psyche did not. Don’t compare them, Y/N is different. She seems to not have an ill intentioned bone in her body.” Jimin hums before nodding, “She’s very nice. I agree. I heard the wings of Hermes earlier, what was he doing here?”
“I called on him.” Taehyung looks over at Jeongguk before raising an eyebrow. “Why?”
“For Morpheus to send her sweet dreams.” 
“Of you?”
“Of me.”
Waking up wasn’t usually this difficult but you didn’t want to wake up from this dream. Your mind knew it was time to get up but you couldn’t help but will yourself to stay in this dream. 
Laying upon a marble table in the middle of a field of wheat, your hands graze over Jeongguk as he straddles you. His smirk is broad as he hums gently. “You are a goddess.” His body bows down, chest and stomach muscles rippling as his full lips graze over your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut under the lavender sun. Your body singing with want as his hands run over your bare sides. You were completely bare underneath him and you felt no embarrassment, as if that emotion did not exist with this god above you. “You taste like berries from the Elysian Fields, so sweet.” 
His lips leave small petals of pinks and reds on your skin as his hands cup your breasts gently. His hands knead them gently and you can’t help but hear birds begin to sing as his tongue flicks at your stiffening nipples. Your fingers card through his black locks before gasping as he suckles sweetly at your areola. Back bowing off of the marble table as he spreads your legs with his large hands. 
Your eyes open to watch the god lavish upon you, his touch feels electric against your skin. Sending shockwaves of want to your core. His lips trail lower, eyes on yours as he nips playfully at the skin of your stomach. “Eros, want you.” 
His eyes glimmer with amusement before licking across your bare pubic bone. “Do you now? You want me? Here?” His fingers caress your pussy lips and a mewl is coaxed from your lips. You feel your arousal dripping on to the marble table beneath you and you squirm underneath him. His chuckle has you whimpering as he bows his head back down. “So wet, Zeus above.”
He curses under his breath before licking a flat swipe over your folds. Your moans resound throughout the wheat field as his hands grip at your thighs. “Sweet like Ambrosia.” 
His full lips suckle at your engorging clit, the tip of his tongue flicking it gently as white hot pleasure courses through your veins. “Look at me, goddess. Watch me.” His tone is commanding and your eyes snap to his as his pupils blow out with lust.
His suckles become stronger, your stomach beginning to tighten as a finger swirls around the ring of muscle of your sex. “Eros!” 
“Yes, goddess?” His tongue is playful and as he lifts his head you can see your arousal coated on his chin and cheeks. The sight makes your eyes roll back as you lift your hips. 
“More. Want more, please.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” His finger enters you slowly, the full feeling making you whine as he gets back to work. You feel as light as air as he pumps his finger into you slowly, his tongue circling around your clit before flicking at a quick pace. Your moans fill the field as doves begin to fly overhead, lightning cracks above and you find yourself reaching the precipice of your pleasure.
Another finger is added as he expertly curls them within you, finding the soft patch of muscles that have your back lifting off of the table. “Guk! Jeongguk! Yes! Yes!” He moans against you, a gravelly wanton sound that makes your stomach tighten tighter. “Cum for me goddess, shower me in your pleasure.” 
Your toes curl as your mind begins to get fuzzy, his name both Eros and Jeongguk pour from your lips as your eyes screw shut. “I'm cumming! Fuck! Eros!” As you fall over the edge, birds begin to sing louder. Your pleasure starts at your heart before spreading-
You jump awake, a sheen of sweat gracing your body. Your head feels fuzzy and heavy as you gasp gently at your surroundings. You fell asleep here?! Idiot! And, that dream...Fuck… That dream was… Something else. Your eyes find the Eros statue in the corner before narrowing at it. “Get out of my subconscious.” 
You hear shuffling outside of the room door and you find yourself aware that you should not be here. How could you just fall asleep in Jeongguk’s bed?! Speaking of the god...man. Speaking of the man, where is he? You go to stand before feeling how soaked your panties are and you groan gently. How embarrassing! 
As if he had heard your thoughts, the bedroom door opens revealing the handsome man you had just dreamed of. "Good morning, Nemesis." You watch as he lifts a cup to his lips, the veins in his arm protruding as he smirks against the lip of the cup. His coffee irises dance with delight as he looks upon your figure. You begin blushing, your mind reeling back to the dream that felt so intensely real. "I-I'm sorry I fell asleep!"
You stand up quickly, hands frantically trying to smooth out your hair as Jeongguk leans against the door jamb. "Oh no, it's cool watching Herc rescue his lover gets me sleepy sometimes too." You can't help but stare as his tongue sweeps across his lips. Thinking back to your dream, his tongue felt so amazing on the most intimate part of you. You grab your backpack off the floor before pulling at the hem of your dress.
"I'll-I'll get going. Sorry." He furrows his eyebrows before watching as you teeter on your feet awkwardly. "I can make you breakfast if you want."
His fingers curl around the cup and you swallow thickly as if you could feel them inside of you. "I have to go!" You shove past him, coffee spilling from the cup to his chest as you barrel towards the door. 
"Y/N?" He calls confused as you grab your shoes from beside the door. "See you in class." 
He takes in a deep breath before opening his mouth as you meet eyes once more. "Hey Y/N, wait-" You open the door quickly before scurrying out without another word. How could you have such a dream?!
Jeongguk scoffs gently as Jimin peeks out of the kitchen, "I made her Ambrosia buttered toast!" He wipes at his coffee covered chest before looking at his cousin. "Where's the key?" 
Jimin sets the plate down gently before widening his eyes, "Key? No. No! Eros!"
His bare foot taps rapidly against the marble floor before holding out his hand as his jaw tightens. "Give me the key, Dionysus."
Jimin whines loudly before trudging out of the kitchen towards his room. "Aw man! My father is going to kill me when he sees my hair." He mumbles pushing past Guk to go to his room.
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Both men stand at the end of the hallway, the gold key jumping from knuckle to knuckle as Jeongguk stands at the wooden closet door. “Any last words?” Jimin clears his throat before looking at his cousin.
“Maybe just forget about it?” He gives a nervous laugh, in turn Jeongguk rolls his eyes before putting the key in the lock. A large boom resounds throughout the apartment as he turns the key and Jimin whimpers before chugging the contents of his wine glass. The walls vibrate as if they’ve turned to jelly and he takes a deep breath before shoving open the door.
“Oh gods.” Jimin whines loudly sticking his head past the door frame as clouds make a staircase towards a ray of shining light. Jeongguk steps past the door frame before looking down at his clothes as they shimmer and change. The chiton that appears on his body is lightwear and the color of a white sheep. He sighs before looking at Jimin, who in turn, changes from his hoodie and sweatpants to a chiton the color of wine. “Oh fuck! Dude! Let’s just go back inside, hmm?”
“I need to speak with Morpheus, he fucked me over.” His cousin whimpers before the sounds of harpsichords begin to resound throughout the air. “They know we’re here anyway.” 
Without a second thought he walks over the clouds, the white wisps licking at his ankles before disappearing all together, his foot raises before stepping onto the staircase and closing his eyes. “Here we go.”
Mount Olympus was bustling today, gods and goddesses walking around on the stone ground not giving a glance at the two boys as they crossed the gold gates. Jeongguk’s mouth opens, eyes lifting up to look at the scenery he hasn’t seen for years. Stone pillars litter the pantheon, temples and mansions as far as the eye could see. Stone slabs of jagged and large rocks hold up the floating islands far and wide and he finds himself folding his arms before smirking.
“I knew you would come!” The sound is melodic, the voice making him feel at home as his head turns to his mother. “Mother!”
She floats forward, hair pinned underneath a gold crown as she extends her flowing arms. Jeongguk’s heart swells before enveloping her in a hug and spinning her around. She smells of ambrosia and roses and he feels immediately comforted. She steps back before placing her hands on his handsome face, shaking him around before smiling widely. “My son.” 
He hums as Jimin steps closer to him as a bolt of lightning ricochets through the sky. “Shit man.” Jimin holds out his hand before a goblet of wine produces and he guzzles the drink greedily as the white clouds begin to turn a dark grey. “Why have you come?”
Aphrodite’s voice is filled with glee as Jeongguk slings his arm over his mother's shoulders. “I must speak with Morpheus.” She hums playfully before pinching his chin and wiggling his face. “We like her, yes?”
Jeongguk chuckles before pulling her with him, leaving Jimin alone. “Yes, we like her. Quite a bit actually.”
“Eros! Wait up! Please!” Jeongguk chuckles before opening his arm as Jimin rushes to him. “Big bad Zeus is going to light up the sky until you go see him. He birthed you after all.” Aphrodite’s voice is playful as all three stop as Pegasus crosses their path.
“Nice to see you diaper wearing boy.” The deep voice is a welcome one as his eyes look up at Heracles mounted upon his horse. “Herc. Pleasure, I’m sure.” 
“Bro! You gotta help me out! Dad is going to flip when he sees my hair!” Jimin calls to his brother before pulling at his blue strands. Heracles laughs loudly before holding out his hand to Jimin. “Get on, you’ve been summoned.” 
With the stomp of his foot he grips the big hand before getting hauled on to the back of the winged horse. “Hey, Eros! One hour Olympus time, please!” He begs his cousin, wanting to get out of this realm as soon as possible.
Jeongguk chuckles as his mother smooths out his black hair, pinning it behind his ear. “That’s if you don’t get struck down first.” The horse flaps its wings before Jimin’s scream is heard as the horse takes off without a second thought. 
Jeongguk walks along the roads with his mother, head bowing down to the gods and goddesses that’s eye contact lingers for more than a few seconds. He was the god of love, sexual attraction and desire after all. His hand reaches out for a ceramic vase, one only that could be crafted by the great Hephaestus before the sound of winged boots draws his attention to the clouded sky. “Hey you!” 
“Hey yourself Hermes!” Aphrodite giggles gently before sitting down on a marble bench, legs crossing demurely as she leans back watching the interaction. Hermes appears, slowly floating off of the ground before pointing his staff at the god of love. “Morpheus is looking for you!”
“And I him. Care to lead the way?” Hermes hands him a pair of flying boots before looking at Aphrodite. “Well don’t you just look ravishing today. The Elysian Fields could not compare.”
“You flatter me, Hermes.” She produces a rose before handing it to the handsome trickster. Jeongguk tuts his tongue before narrowing his eyes at the man. “Easy now, that’s my gorgeous mother you’re trying to play with.”
He kisses his mother on the cheek before smiling, “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.” She hums to him as he puts on the boots. His eyes widen before pointing at her as he begins to ascend into the air. “Stop coming around Y/N as a dove all the time. You’re making me look bad!” She gives him a gentle wave which he can only roll his eyes at before the winged shoes are taking him to his meeting.
The home of Morpheus never ceases to amaze Jeongguk. He’s not sure if it can even be called a home, honestly. A simple canopied bed sits high above the mansions on their own cloud petastools as he lands. His bed is cocooned within swirling white puffs of clouds and Jeongguk makes it a point to clear his throat in case the god of dreams was sleeping, which in fact would usually be the case. “Eros.”
He leans against one of the bed posts before folding his arms, “I have words for you god of dreams.” The laugh he hears makes him scowl as Morpheus sits up in his bed. “Words? For me? I did you a service.”
He scoffs loudly as he pushes himself off of the bedpost. “She ran away from me, any dream you gave the poor girl must have been a nightmare.” 
“Hmm? The dream. Let me see.” The grey haired man’s eyes close, eyeballs rapidly moving behind his eyelids before the corners of his mouth begin to turn upwards. “I would not consider this a terrible nightmare. I’d like to be such a man or lady in this situation.”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow before holding out his hand, “Show me.” 
Morpheus chuckles before a goblet of Ambrosia appears within his grasp. “I gave her the gift of a good dream and her mind created this. It is not untoward to think she scared herself.” 
Jeongguk shakes his hand impatiently before hearing a sigh, Morpheus’ wings sprout from behind his back before cracking his neck and placing his hand atop the god of love. Jeongguk’s eyes closed as his head lolled back. His body shakes with pleasure before smirking at the dream as it flits across the inside of his eyelids. “Ah.”
His answer is short as he pulls away from the god before him. His hands smooth out his black hair, pinning it behind his ears before clearing his throat. “Send her more dreams, won’t you?”
Morpheus laughs loudly, his laughter mixing in with the crack of thunder as lighting bolts fly through the sky. Rain begins to scatter on the clouded ground and he can’t help but smirk. “Must hate the blue.” 
“I’m sorry to waste your time. I had assumed she saw something very unpleasant within her dreams to run from me in such a way.” Morpheus chuckles before laying back down with his goblet. “Embarrassment and unpleasantness sit in two different houses underneath the sky.”
Jeongguk nods thoughtfully before looking back down at the pantheon below this high cloud. “I’ll be on my way now, Morpheus. Thank you for your time.” The grey haired man hums before closing his eyes as the winged boots begin to ascend into the air once more. “She’s got a gorgeous body.” Jeongguk murmurs to himself before flying towards the market place. 
He walks through the stone street, hands behind his back as he looks at all of the stalls. A flash of light catches his eye before turning to a booth with a wide smile. “Theia.” She hums to him, sitting upon a marble bench with her ankles upon a stone stool. “Eros.”
He wrinkles his nose at her cutely and she sighs happily upon seeing his handsome face. “I haven’t seen you in quite some time, young man.” 
His eyes glance over the jewelry she has laid out, “I’ve been in the mortal realm. Enjoying life down there.”
“And does Eros have a new love that shines as brightly as my jewels?” He smirks at her question before picking up a gold necklace. It shines brightly even with the drizzle of rain. Two gold chains wrap around each other, coiling gracefully and he tilts his head before looking up at her. “How much?”
“Five gold.” He nods before feeling at where his pants normally are and sighing. “Can you make an Eros pendant?” 
Theia snaps her fingers and a gold pendant dangles from the necklace. He smiles at it before nodding, “That’ll be ten gold, dear boy.”
He nods before a woolen bag is thrown over his shoulder. He turns his head to his cousin who now graces black hair with a frown. “Can we go now?” He murmurs before giving Theia a small wave. 
He turns back to Theia before nodding, “Before you go, why don’t you stop by Heras home. She could enchant that necklace for you.” He stops before tilting his head. It just wouldn’t be right to have the goddess of marriage charm this piece. If you want him, you’ll have him.
“That’s alright. She can make her own choices, thanks Theia!” She hums before letting out a low whistle. Her legs leave the stool before watching him saunter down the rain slick road. The necklace glimmers in his hand and she smirks before leaning back in her chair. 
“Let’s go get you a glass of wine. Hmm?” Jimin nods gratefully as they cross the golden gates.
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“I mean what the fuck do you even think you’re doing?! Hmm?!” You counter to yourself as you stare in the mirror of your bedroom. Your fingertip taps repeatedly against the glass as you scowl. “Uh! So what if he has a super hot fucking body and he’s really cool and sweet. Ha! Like that fucking matters. Because, news flash, idiot! It doesn’t! And, so what if he knows a lot about something that you have such a passion for?! HA! As if you’d fall for him because he has all these cute stories about y’know...Dionysus and Hephaestus…” You collect your breath as you change out of your clothes from yesterday before getting ready for class. 
“I mean, y’know, too fucking bad that you had a dream where he ate you out like a champ...With his lips...trailing all over your body and birds were singing because he...he licked your clit so well...and his hair felt so soft in your-” You go wide eyed before fanning your now pink tinted cheeks. “GOD! WHATEVER SO FUCKING INFURIATING!”
You barrel towards the lecture hall, backpack to your chest for protection as your eyes flit across the green lawn. You were safe, all you need to do is make it into the lecture hall and ignore Jeongguk when he gets there. That’s it! You grumble as you stop to look at the weeping willow tree you’ve grown so fond of during your time at this university. The dove was sitting underneath it again today and you find yourself feeling guilty you didn’t spend any time with it. You wave at it with a small smile and you hear him before anything else. 
His laugh is loud, a sound that you want to revel in and yet, you shrink in form before jogging over to the tree and pressing your back to it. You can hear girls giggling at what he says and you scowl before looking down at the dove. “He must really think he’s like Eros or something, huh? No wonder people call him a fuckboy if he’s so easily amused with girls.” The bird sits down, head tilting to the side as your back slides down the tree. The beady stare makes you swallow thickly before scoffing, “I’m not jealous. Don’t even think that!”
You point at the bird before frowning. This is called projecting and you’re doing a great job at it at this very second. “Just because he’s handsome doesn’t mean he has to talk to every person he sees. God, he knows what he does to people! So annoying.” Your voice tapers off into a murmur as you recall your dream. The way his tattooed hands caressed your body and showed you such attention. The way his tongue flic-
“Who’re we hiding from?” You gasp loudly as you fall over. You look up at him as he smiles widely at you, “Hi, Nemesis.” 
“H-Hi, Jeongguk.” He holds out his hand and you take in his attire before grabbing it. His leather jacket, his ripped black skinny jeans, even the earrings that dangle from his ears suit him so well you find the wind being pulled from your lungs. He lifts you up easily and you find comfort in his smell. “I was going to make you breakfast this morning. Why’d you leave?” 
You clear your throat as his arm slings over your shoulder, you find it bizarre how comfortable he feels beside you. “I-I… You know… Had to feed my cat and wash my...toes.” Very cool. You’re amazing at this.
“How hygienic of you.” He snickers before putting his index finger under your chin and pulling your face to look at him, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with your sleep, now would it?”
Your cheeks burn at his question before shrugging his arm off of your shoulder. “Of course not! You’re ridiculous!” Your scoff echoes throughout the lawn and he chuckles before nodding. “Yes, goddess.”
You freeze at his words before pressing your backpack closer to your chest, “Jeongguk! Could I get your number?” Your head turns to a few girls as you both approach the lecture hall building. 
He smirks before slinging his arm around your shoulder, “Sorry. Busy. Got a goddess to take to class.” You smack at his hand as it squeezes your shoulder. “Come on, Nemesis.”
Sitting down at your table, you can’t help but feel your stomach coil as he scrapes his chair closer to you. The scent of pine invades your senses and you find yourself smiling as he places an apple on the table in front of you. “I brought something to impress you.”
Your eyebrow quirks up as he puts a notebook with a bow on the front cover onto the table. He smiles widely and you can’t help but giggle as he folds his arms. “This is to impress me?” He gives a small nod before opening up the page. 
Will you hang out with me again?
The words catch your attention and you close the notebook cover quickly as people take their seats behind you. “Jeongguk!” Your voice is a whisper as he bites his apple. He wipes at his chin before nodding at the book.
“I want to show you something.” 
“What?” You can feel the excitement radiating through your bones, as Professor Song enters the room. Butterflies begin to erupt within you as he smiles widely wrinkling his nose. “You’ll really like it. Hey, do you...have a pen?”
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“You’re just going to go over there and not be a baby.” You whisper to the mirror before stomping rapidly on the floor with your foot. Your eyes peer over at the bed, flitting between the two outfits you have casually laid out for your date. No! Not date! Hang out! You’re both hanging out! You sit on the floor, head leaning back against the door before Artemis climbs into your lap. “I think I really like him.” You whisper to your cat as she curls into a ball within your lap. 
“He’s not like how I thought he was at all and my heart keeps doing this stupid thing where it stops and I feel like I’m dying.” You whisper fiercely to the cat as her paw extends over your calm lazily. She yawns loudly and you scoff gently, “No yawning while I’m spilling my heart to you!”
You lift her up before looking into her sleepy eyes. “I think I really like him and I’m not afraid of it. It’s freaking me the fuck out!” She closes her eyes before you press the cat into your chest. Thinking back to all your moments spent with him, you can feel those butterflies again. Flying around without a care as a smile begins to grace your face. “I’m not afraid and it’s freaky.”
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You wore something prettier for this hang out. You listened to your heart instead of your head for once and you were impressed with the outcome. Your hair falls in rivets around your shoulder before you knock on his door. “It’s open.”
Your hand turns the knob before being greeted by the familiar golden fixtures around you. “Y/N!” Jimin yells loudly as he throws his arms up, wine sloshes onto his bare chest as you giggle at him.
“Hi Jimin!” You give a small wave as Adoneus rubs his head against your thigh. “Hi!” You crouch down to rub at his head and he purrs loudly for you. 
“Wine for the prettiest human alive?” He goes to stand before Jeongguk’s bedroom door opens. “Come, Nemesis. Leave the drunk alone for a while.” 
“Nice hair by the way.” You comment as a dove perches on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Jimin frowns before folding his arms, “My dad made me do it.” 
His grumble makes you smile as your lab partner enters the room first. He sits on the bed and you can’t help but think to yourself how truly comfortable you feel as you sit down next to him. His black hair is pushed behind his ears as he turns his head to you. “Want to go to a party?” 
You frown before looking into his eyes, “A party? I’m not dressed for a party.” He hums before clearing his throat.
“I can help with that, actually. It isn’t a regular party per se. It’s more of a...family gathering.” He wants to take you to a family event? You fold your arms before raising an eyebrow as you let him continue. 
“You know how I um...I always talk like I know the gods and goddesses?” You nod slowly, your mind becoming confused as you clear your throat. “Hey, Dionysus?! She’ll need some wine.” 
You blink slowly before Jimin appears in the doorway in a flash. He smiles at you before holding out his empty hand. You step forward to take it, confused at the meaning before his hand shimmers and a goblet appears. You choke on your own spit, coughing loudly as you back up into the window. 
“Jeongguk!” Your voice is high as your hands grip at the gold ledge of his window. “Yes, goddess?” 
“He-Jimin! He-” Jimin giggles before stepping into the room and you are two seconds away from ripping open the window and flinging yourself out of it. “He’s my cousin Dionysus.” 
Your gaze flickers between the two handsome men before a psychotic giggle begins to erupt in your throat. Your hands find your knees as your laugh grows louder, eyes watering as you fall to the ground. “Y/N.” Jeongguk’s voice is gentle as you shake your head.
“It’s mythology! MYTH! This is not real?! What’re you insane!?” Your giggles go dead as the dove lands on the ground in front of you before the image begins to ripple. The bird becomes a tall Asian woman with chestnut brown hair and gold eyes. You swallow thickly before wiping at your face in shock.
“This is my mother.” Jeongguk grumbles gently, Jimin rounds his mother before grabbing your hand and putting the goblet into it. “Drink it, you’ll need it.”
“Well, isn’t she just a doll.” The woman's fingers pinch at your cheeks and you feel your body begin to feel tingles at her touch.
“Mother, please do not embarrass me.” She scoffs before helping you to your feet. “I’m Aphrodite, a pleasure to meet you. My son really enjoys spending time with you.” You gasp, mouth falling open before looking at Jeongguk as his eyes squeeze shut. 
You feel as if you’re in a dream, the world beginning to feel flat besides the three people in this room. Two of them who just so happen to be part of the twelve Olympian Gods! You bring the goblet to your lips before chugging it as Aphrodite giggles. “She’s funny.” 
“Let me refill that for you.” Jimin snaps his fingers before your goblet is refilled and you set it down gently before rubbing your hands together. “Okay, she gets it. Can you guys just… shoo? Please?” They hum before Aphrodite kisses your cheek. 
"You're very welcome. I hope to see you on high." She winks before leaving with Jimin. Your eyes widen as Jeongguk leans back on the bed. "Surprise?"
You scoff before looking at the door then back at him. Then at the door. Then him. Your finger moves with your head to both places before scoffing again. "Let me truly introduce myself. I'm Eros." The god of sexual desire and love. You swallow before fanning your face as you let out a short laugh. 
"Y/N?" His tone is gentle as he stands up tall. 
"It's real?! Like, you're a god?!" He hums before snapping his fingers, his casual attire turns into a royal looking chiton. He looks like everything good in this world and you find yourself clearing your throat as your eyes falter to the floor. "So you...your stories were real?! You're from Mount Olympus?!" 
He opens his arms with a small smile before nodding. "Yes, Olympus is my home."
This is incredible! Astounding even! To be in the presence of a god is...unreal. "I wanted you to see me for me. I like you. Quite a bit, in fact. I thought you would understand." 
He likes you?! Truly?! You hum unsurely before looking at the Eros statue in the corner and squeeze your eyes shut. "Nemesis?" Your eyes flicker to his before looking away once more.
He approaches you, hands grabbing at your arms before rubbing them gently. You feel the tingles again, you rip your arms from his before shrinking under his warm gaze. "I can make you forget this if you want...I don't want you to be afraid of me." 
You weren't! You were just in shock. Completely and utterly lost not knowing what to do. "I just...need some time." He opens his mouth before nodding slowly. "Whatever you'd like, goddess." His words make you shiver and you feel your body go numb. 
"I-I have a gift for you. If you'd accept it of course. I bought it from my aunt Theia. She's the goddess of-"
"Light but also the deity of gold, silver and jewels." You finish his statement and his smile makes your heart feel light as he nods. "Yes. I bought you a present if you would accept it." 
His hands press into one another before light begins to seep out of the cracks. You stare in awe at his hands before he opens them to a glorious gold necklace. "Will you accept?" Your head nods stupefied before you can even think properly. He chuckles before stepping behind you.
The gold chain and pendant are chilly against your skin but as he clasps it tightly you feel like it has always belonged on you. "I need time to think." 
He hums to you before hugging you from behind, "Don't run from me Nemesis, please. I like you, very much. There will be time for my family parties in the future, I hope."
Once safely inside your apartment, your body slides down the apartment door. You let out a screech before stomping the heels of your feet on the floor. “OH MY GOD!” You squeal loudly before looking up at the ceiling. This is absolutely insane! No wonder he was so fucking handsome, he was literally born from the goddess of love and beauty! And, he likes you. You! He wasn’t like how people said he is at all. Well, that is for the simple fact that they don’t know him at all! All of his fun sounding stories make them that much more incredible because they’re real. He was honestly, so kind and funny. 
He wasn’t like most people and there’s one good reason for that. He wasn’t a person, he was from on high which continues to rattle your brain. You can’t find the strength in yourself to stand so you opt for crawling. Which you feel blessed to have acquired a single bedroom apartment without the need for a roommate. Would be embarrassing if someone was watching you crawl towards your bed as your cat waltzes along with you. “He’s a fucking god.” You tell your cat who in turn knocks her head into your jaw as she rubs against you. “I know! So insane!” 
Laying in bed you flip your phone from one hand to the other before touching the gold necklace on your neck that you never wanted to take off ever again. It came from Mount Olympus but just knowing that while Guk was up there, he thought of you and that makes it even more special. He likes you and he wants you to spend time with him. You like him and want to spend more time with him too. Your tongue swipes across your lips before unlocking your phone. Your lungs fill with air before exhaling loudly.
9:12 You: Eros.
9:13 Hades: Goddess.
You giggle to yourself before your phone falls from your hands, smacking you in the face. You whine loudly before rubbing at your cheek as you type to him.
9:14 You: I’m done thinking.
9:14 Eros: Oh? Are you? And what does this goddess think?
9:15 You: I like you too.
Your heart begins to beat loudly, the sound filling your ears as you gasp gently. Was that wrong? Did you do the wrong thing?
You stare at your phone on the pillow beside you, eye twitching as your phone screen still stays black. You whine loudly before pressing your face into the pillow. Of course it was a dumb idea. He probably has a bunch of women, goddesses even, that adore him. 
9:30 Eros: Fuck! I’m so sorry! Dionysus spilt wine everywhere, broke the fucking vase that Hephaestus made us and I had to clean it up!
You grab your phone before reading his message and smiling. 
9:31 You: A vase? Where do I get a god crafted vase? I want one. 
9:32 Eros: Your wish is my command, goddess.
Your doorbell goes off and you jump at the noise before tilting your head. “Hello?” Your voice is loud, echoing throughout the apartment before standing up. 
“Delivery for Y/N.” The voice calls through the door. You exit the bedroom before opening the door. A man in an all brown ensemble stands before you, he has a winged shoe medallion hanging from his neck as he blows a bubble with his gum. “Hermes nice to meet you, doll face. Here.”
He thrusts the box at you before popping the bubble of gum. “H-Hermes, like the god of messages?” Your voice comes out in a squeak as he winks at you. “In the flesh. Sign here.” 
You stammer on a few syllables before setting the box down and grabbing the clipboard. “Like, actually Hermes?” He nods slowly before tapping the clipboard and blowing another bubble. Your eyes glance over his attire before clearing his throat.
“Listen, Eros’ new girlfriend, I got stuff to do. Hmm? I have three people I have to guide to the Underworld in like twenty minutes so-” He taps the clipboard, “-sign the sheet so Eros doesn’t murder me in my sleep.”
You clear your throat before signing the sheet attached to the clipboard and handing it back to him. Eros’ new girlfriend? You blush brightly before pushing your hair behind your ear. “Nice to meet you, Hermes.” The blush that graces your cheeks makes him chuckle as he pulls a packet of gum from his pocket and hands you a stick. “Nice to meet you, too kid. You watch out for that diaper wearing Cupid okay? He’s got a fragile heart.” 
You nod slowly as he snaps his fingers before vanishing into thin air, small flecks of gold rain down from where he was standing and your mouth opens wide before a squeal leaves you. You grab the box before trudging back into the apartment and into your bedroom. The box is heavy and with a groan you haul it onto your bed. Your fingers begin to twitch with excitement, eyes widening before hugging the box to your chest. Wow! Jeongguk is actually the coolest person you’ve ever met. Coolest god, you’ve ever met. Only god. Anyway.
You open the box before staring inside. Just the rim of the vase exuded richness and you find yourself carefully pulling it out of the box before staring at it. Beautifully glazed clay with the faces of the twelve Olympian gods stamped on the base. “Holy shit.”
Where would you even put this beautiful thing? Your phone buzzes loudly and you set the vase down gently before scrambling for your phone.
9:41 Eros: Do you like it? 
9:41 You: UH YES! THANK YOU!
9:42 Eros: Haha! Anything for you, goddess. See you tomorrow!
9:43 You: Goodnight.
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You did it again. You had a super sexual dream about your lab partner slash crush slash god. And, honestly, when you woke up you weren’t the least bit insecure. “He finds me attractive.” You tell your cat as you comb your hair in the mirror as you get ready for class. The cat blinks at you slowly before laying down. 
“He likes me. Me! Can you believe it?! I mean, I’m not even that special or great or anything and he has a crush on me!” You scoff to yourself before smiling. You look at the time before jumping up, Aphrodite might be waiting underneath the weeping willow today. 
You rush to the weeping willow only to see an Asian woman sitting down on what seems to be a blanket made of silk. You were so excited to get here and now that you are, you can feel yourself becoming smaller as she looks over at you. “Come! I’ve been waiting for you.” 
You give her a shy smile before walking over and standing awkwardly next to the silk blanket. She looks up before smiling warmly and patting the spot next to her. “I don’t bite, come. Sit.” 
You clear your throat gently before sitting down beside her and putting your hands in your lap. She hums before folding her legs beneath her and smiling. She holds out her hand and a golden hairbrush appears. “Well now, I like being able to spend time with my son's beloved.” You open your mouth to reply as she sections off your hair before combing through it. Her tone is gentle before she snaps her fingers and an apple falls into your lap.
“I really love these.” She wrinkles her nose sweetly as you take a bite. “Good, I’m glad you enjoy them. Do you also enjoy spending time with my son?”
Your teeth sink into the apple before stopping at her question. The back of your hand swipes across your lips before looking back at her. “Yes, I do… Is that wrong?”
She laughs gently before shaking her head. Her hand sends electrical currents through your body as she swipes her thumb over your cheek. “Not at all, little one. I just have grown so protective of him after the whole business with Psyche.” You hum before folding your arms. You recall his anger every time she was brought up and you can’t help but question why. “What happened?”
Aphrodite tuts her tongue as she continues to comb through your hair. “I think Eros should be the one to tell you. He was so heartbroken for so long and then he met you. You seem to make him smile and feel as light as air again and I do enjoy seeing him so happy.” You feel yourself beginning to blush at her admission before hugging your backpack to your chest. Her eyes flicker to your necklace before smirking, her fingertips dance over the gold before sighing happily. 
“I hear a grumpy boy coming.” She whispers as if she is spilling a big secret.
“Mother.” Jeongguk’s voice is clipped and you find yourself smiling at him as he narrows his eyes at the situation at hand. “Son.”
“What’re you doing?” His voice is riddled with tension before giving you a sweet smile. His eyes narrow back at his mother as she clears her throat. “Just combing Y/N’s hair.”
“Why?” He questions before holding his hand out to you. You make no move from the goddess as she sets down the hairbrush.
“Because I wanted to. Because I like her. Is that so wrong?” He rolls his eyes before shaking his hand and you look over at her as she nods. “Go on, little one. He’s in no mood to fool around today.” 
You take his hand before bowing to her as he slings his arm over your shoulders. “It was very nice to see you again, goddess.” She giggles before nodding. “The pleasure is mine. I look forward to seeing you on high.”
“Zeus above.” Jeongguk mutters before pulling you away. You give her a small wave and his hand physically turns your head to look in front of you. “Don’t be so mean! She’s the goddess of beauty!”
He chuckles gently before ruffling your hair, “Yeah well, I’m the god of sexual desire and you don’t see me begging for women to suck me every minute of the day.” You smack his hand over your shoulder as he laughs loudly. 
“Come on, goddess.” As you enter the building you look over at his other shoulder, the strap of a backpack hangs loosely on his leather jacket and you point at it. “You’re wearing a backpack.” 
He hums before looking down at you, “To impress you. And! I even brought a pen today.” You laugh as you both enter the lecture hall.
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Being with Jeongguk is amazing. There’s no other way to describe it. He makes your knees weak and your heart explode into a million stars that could paint the galaxy. You find yourself wanting to spend every minute with him. Not just because he’s a god, of course. Because, he’s genuinely an interesting person that you feel comfortable around. He does sweet things for you when you don’t even ask him to and he always puts you first. He hasn’t even deemed you his girlfriend yet and he acts as if you’re his wife. It’s very comfortable with him and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Then one time I accidentally ran into Herc as he was fighting a titan and I got shoved off of the pantheon. Hermes had to come and save me as I was falling.” Jeongguk mumbles as you lay next to each other in his bed. He snaps his fingers before pointing as the image on the ceiling changes. “That’s my mother and father's house.” 
Your eyes drift to the marble mansion before looking at a mansion beside it on it’s own floating stones. “Whose house is that one?” He hums before snapping his fingers as the ceiling goes dark. “Mine.”
You furrow your eyebrows at his short tone. “You don’t sound very happy about it.” He snorts before drinking some wine, “Yes well, not many good things happened there.” 
“Oh?” You sit up in his bed, legs folding underneath you as he looks over at you. His hair falls into his eyes as he gives you a small smile. “Psyche lived there, too.” 
Ah. “What’s up with that story? It always seemed like it had a happy ending.” He gives a quick laugh before setting down his goblet and grabbing your hands. “It really, really doesn’t.” 
“Care to talk about it?” He groans before sitting up and leaning against the headboard. His arms cross before his head lolls backwards. “I mean, do you wish to hear about my tryst with another human? Besides you?” 
You shrug before putting your hands underneath your chin, “You like me, right?”
“Gods yes. More than you know. You’re so refreshing and sweet.” You smile at his compliment as his head tilts towards you, tongue running over the inside of his cheek. “Then you can tell me, I won’t be jealous. I’m here with you, in this bed.” 
He shakes his head with a chuckle before closing his eyes, “You’re really something different, huh? Fine. Hold my hands.” 
You put your hands in his before closing your eyes. You see her now, Psyche, her beauty was breathtaking. She was married to Eros, an arranged marriage that she had been forced into. She sat alone in a magnificent castle, gold columns, floors made of jewels and silver lined the walls. She was suspicious then, and an empty house welcomed her. 
“I was never home, I was always out with my brother and Dionysus.” 
She waited patiently for her husband to return home, laying in the large gold bed, eyes screwed shut. Then he appeared out of gold mist, he lays down behind her whispering sweet nothings into her ears and her face becomes passive. You feel your heart clench and your stomach roll before inhaling deeply through your nose.
Jeogguk’s hands clenched tighter onto yours, “Shall I stop?”
“No.”
Days pass and you can tell just how truly happy Psyche is. But, you can see her pain, too. You can see the way her eyes fill up with tears as she walks the halls of the large castle alone. You can hear her call out to her sisters and family members, her sweet voice bouncing off of the silver walls. She relays how much she misses them, how lonely she is. How she doesn’t want them to suffer because of her.
That night, as she lays in bed, he reappears behind her. Jeongguk’s body shimmers as he clutches her tightly. She asks him if her family can come up to the castle and see her, to know she is alive and well. He denies her but when he hears her whimper out of sadness he grants her that favor. He warns her though, to not let her sisters influence her mind or their relationship will crumble. She agrees to this before falling asleep.
The next day, her two sisters arrive with the grace of Hermes. The three sisters hug and cry with one another, happy to be together again. Upon entering the castle though, the sisters are too deeply amazed with what they see. How the floor is engrained with jewels and all of the expensive trinkets that litter the halls. Envious they question their sister throughout dinner, asking her who her husband is to have such wonderful treasures.
You can hear yourself gasp gently and Jeongguk lets out a bitter laugh, “I know. Keep watching it gets fucking better.”
Psyche tells them he is a young handsome hunter, that of which they do not believe. The sisters look across to each other at the dinner table before subtly nodding, their jealousy overtaking their minds as they make a pact to hurt their sister. As they say their goodbyes they whisper words of warning to Psyche. Telling her that her husband is an awful snake from the oracle Dephi. That this is the reason why he doesn’t allow her eyes to ever grace his face, he is an ugly wicked beast. 
They had warped her mind like Jeongguk had warned her of. She speaks to herself in the day, alone in the castle. Asking herself why he does not come in the day and why he does not let him see her. He must be hiding something horrendous and she would shine a light in his face that night to see if he is a horrendous snake. And, if he is she will kill him. If not, she will go back to sleep peacefully.
“Psyche!” You find yourself whining and Jeongguk smirks before opening his eyes and staring at you. You are completely engrossed in the memories you watch and he runs his thumb over the back of your hand before tilting his head. You weren’t like this woman who he is showing you, you are someone far better than he could ever hope for. He feels lucky to have gotten to know you and in this luck, he wants to push it farther. He wants to know you forever.
Jeongguk sleeps peacefully and you watch as Psyche grabs the candle with a shaky breath. 
“Don’t do it, idiot. He’s Eros!” Jeongguk chuckles gently before kissing the back of your hands.
Psyche’s face reveals great relief as the candle shines upon his handsome face. She falls to her knees and thanks the gods for this handsome man before her. As she leans against him a drop of oil falls from the head of the candle before burning Jeongguk’s back. He wakes up, pain written all over his face before looking at his wife as she thanks the gods. He scoffs, hand reaching to his back before standing and leaving without a word. Distrust is written over his features as he puts on his chiton. 
Psyche runs after him as he descends the stairs of the castle, she hears his voice on the wind loud and clear as he tells her love cannot live without trust. She falls at the highest step of the castle stairs before wailing loudly.
You tut your tongue before frowning and you feel a tear squeeze past your shut eyes. “What an idiot.” 
She cries on the doorstep for days, her body turning frail before deciding she would look everywhere for him and regain his love. 
Jeongguk opens his eyes once more before wiping his thumb over your tear stained cheek. 
Psyche goes to the temple of Aphrodite, praying to the goddess to give her back her husband. She begs the goddess to talk to her son and come back to her. She tells Psyche that she must be certain she is right for Eros, since she can distrust so easily. She tasks Eros’ wife with three tasks and if she does not complete them then he will be gone from her forever. Of course, Psyche agrees.
“Wait for it.” You hear Jeongguk’s voice whisper smugly before he is kissing at the back of your hands once more. 
The goddess shows Psyche a mountain of different seeds. She tells her to separate the seeds before noon or she will never see Eros ever again. The goddess is gone in a shower of golden dust. She wails loudly as she separates the seeds knowing she would never have the time to complete the task. As she continues her task, a group of ants begin to pass by before deciding to help the crying woman. The seeds were then separated into smaller mounds that Psyche deemed acceptable. When Aphrodite saw these mounds she became angry and made Psyche sleep in the field.
“My mother can be a bitch sometimes.” You giggle at his statement before paying attention to the scene behind your eyelids. 
The next morning Aphrodite comes back to the field, with a horrendous task. She points to a river as it flows freely over a large hill. The water is pitch black, abhorrent and running quickly. She tells Psyche to fill a jug with the water. 
“Damn, Aphrodite. She could get hurt.” You mumble to yourself as your teeth nip at your bottom lip. “You aren’t watching a movie, goddess. You’re watching my life.” Jeongguk jeers before running his hand over your hair. 
Psyche reaches the waterfall before discovering just how sharp and jagged the rocks. The black water was slippery and only a winged animal would be able to cross the rapids easily. An eagle flies Psyche to the waters after watching her fail several attempts out of sympathy for the still weeping woman. Aphrodite tells Psyche that she would not have passed without having help. She demands the weeping woman of yet another service, telling her she can prove herself to be as determined as she claims to be.
“Whoa. Aphrodite was on a rampage.” The god before you hums playfully, “She was angry that Psyche was beautiful, quite like she is, she has since grown up.” 
Aphrodite gave Psyche a box, telling her to go to the Underworld and ask Persephone to drain her beauty into the box as a gift for the goddess of beauty. Obediently, Psyche to the road to Hades. Crying for two days and two nights before getting gates. She got onto a boat, one that was made of bones and leather as it crossed the river where the dead used to leave. She gave gold to the boatman, Charonte, to help her find her way to the dark palace of Persephone. 
“Where’s Cerberus?” You whisper as your eyes squeeze tighter at the dim lighting of the Underworld. Guk chuckles before brushing his lips against your cheek as his forehead presses to your temple. “Cerberus lives with Hades in his palace. Persephone has her own. You know she can’t stomach him.” You open your mouth gently before nodding. Another story for another day, perhaps.
After a day of travelling, Psyche finds Persephone. She begs the queen of the dead to drain her beauty into the box for Aphrodite. Which, the queen does willingly because it was so asked by the goddess of beauty. She would always be glad to serve Aphrodite. With this third task done, Psyche travels back up to the surface before giving Aphrodite the box. Upon opening it, the goddess of beauty’s skin turns black as night, eyes turning bright red out of anger. She swears to keep Psyche a slave forever and never let her go.
You whistle before flinching as Aphrodite flies into the air leaving Psyche alone in the field. Vines grow tall around her imprisoning her as she cries out for help from Eros. Upon hearing her cries the gods and goddesses tell Eros, who has locked himself away due to heartbreak, all of the unjust things his mother has done.
“Here we go.” He mumbles to you before pulling you into his chest.
He flies down to Psyche before enveloping her into a hug, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and promising to never leave her side. They return to the palace before long and he promises to stay around forever. Their days turn into weeks and their happiness is unending. And yet, Psyche still talks to herself, mumbling that he is a snake underneath the handsome god's skin. He planned all of this to happen, he set his mother upon him to give her these terrible tasks. Her skin begins to turn pail as the light in her irises dim. She swears at him, shoving him away as if he is a demon. He tries to hold her, to calm her but she becomes mad. Raving and ranting as her long nails scratch and dig at his skin. He begins to bleed, tears of gold leak from his eyes.
You feel yourself begin to cry as you watch him writhe in pain. He brings you closer burying your face into his chest as your hands grip tighter at his. “I’m alright, goddess. I’m okay.”
She wishes death upon him, begging him to leave her be in the big palace by herself. She couldn’t bear to look at him as if he had wronged her in every way known to man. His body crumbles before long, knees cracking and splintering the brilliantly gemed floor as he weeps for her. She spits at him, grabbing a knife off of the wall before holding it to his neck. He begs her not to kill him, he tells her how ardently he loves her and yet, she leaves him alone in the palace as he falls to the floor wailing. He lays there as the days turn to night and night turns to day. 
He pulls his hands from yours before hugging you tightly to his body. You sob against his chest and he coos gently as his hands run over your hair. “W-What happened to her?” His lips press to your hairline before picking your face up and brushing your tears away with his thumbs.
“She is a mistress of Hades.” You sniffle before sobbing again and the corners of his lips quirk upwards. “You’re even beautiful when you cry.”
You smack his hands away before whimpering and he merely chuckles before kissing your forehead. “Don’t cry, goddess. I’m over it, it was a long time ago.”
You rub at your face, chafing your skin with your sleeves before sniffling, “Have you ever loved after that? Did you ever find someone?” He tilts his head before smiling, his finger booping your nose before chuckling. 
“I have indeed.” You look up at him as he shakes the hair from his face. His coffee irises gleam with delight as he tuts his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “What was her name?”
Your voice is a whisper in the expanse of his room as he curls his hands around the Eros pendant you were vigilantly. “She sits before me. On my bed. Rubbing the skin off of her face as she cries for my past loves.” 
You stiffen as he smiles lazily, his head presses against the headboard before sighing gently. He loves you? Him? This impeccable being? You can’t seem to think as your heart begins to pick up speed. Jittery nervous course through your veins as your lungs restrict. “Y-You love me?”
He hums gently before nodding, “I do, goddess. Very much.” 
Your body lifts itself up before throwing yourself on to him. He grunts gently before laughing as you wrap your arms around his golden skin, his large hands caress at your cheeks before wrapping a hand around your neck.
“I do indeed.” He kisses you gently. The feeling of his lips makes goosebumps produce on your skin as you gasp gently. Your hairs stand on end as your body begins to vibrate at his touch. Your eyes open wide as his skin begins to glow before you and as you pull away you can see yours doing the same. He groans gently before flipping you over and kissing you as if his life depends on it. Your heart rate soars, the sound resounding in your ears as your fingers tangle into his long hair.
He moans against your lips, a sound so carnal your hips are lifting off of the bed at his touch. “Goddess.” He whispers gently as his lips trail across the skin of your jaw. You whimper at how deep his voice has gotten as lust enshrouds him. 
You pull at his hair gently as his hands begin to knead at your thighs. “Goddess. I cannot do anything with you until you are my wife.” You pull at his head, scoffing as he kisses down your neck. Lips plucking gently at your skin before sitting up.
“What?! Guk! Fuck me!” He chuckles gently before leaning back on his heels. You eye his erection, how it strains against the fabric of his sweatpants before reaching for it. He grasps your wrist gently, his touch is electric sending tingles through you as he shakes his head. “I cannot do a thing with you until you are on high.” 
You narrow your eyes at him before shaking your head. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve made a promise to my mother, goddess. If I do not abide by the promise I will burst and no longer exist.” Your jaw drops open before sitting up. “Wow.”
He hums before looking down at his sweatpants and running both of his hands through his hair. “I will wait for the day you accept me.”
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After that telltale night, you find yourself falling in love with the god that gives you everything so willingly. He’s become such a large part of your life that you can’t seem to help always wanting to be around him. The Graceful Gods project was due tomorrow and you yet again are in his bed as the pen cap sits snugly between your teeth. “What else should we add to it?” 
Jeongguk looks up from the notebook before yawning and lying down, “Nothing. For the fiftieth time. Just lay down with me and let's sleep.” He opens up his arms and you pout before flailing the book in front of his face. “You’re already a god, I need to complete this so I get a good grade and graduate with honors.” 
He smirks before pulling at your arm. Your body lands on top of his and he hums to himself happily. You both lay quietly for a moment before he lifts his head. “Move in with me.”  
“Where, in here? Where we can hear-” You point to the sky before hearing loud moans ricochet through the apartment. He chuckles before pressing his hands to your ears playfully. “No, to Olympus. Move in with me.”
The book falls from your hands as he offers you such a thing. To move into his palace in the sky?! You squeak gently as his hand runs over your back. “I love you and I want you to spend your days with me.” 
You do love him. You’ve never loved anyone more than him. Well, come to think of it he’s the only one you��ve ever truly loved. A love that shakes up your heart and you would give your life for him gladly if you needed to. It was a pure love, built from nothing but apples and vases. But, it was a love of your own that had your heart soaring.
“After we complete the project. I will.” You promise him. He smiles widely, so widely you’re afraid his skin will crack before his lips are on yours. His kiss is filled with ardor, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss as you both begin to glow in the dim lighting of his gold coated bedroom. He kisses you until all of the breath is stolen from the both of you. His hands run over your sides before putting his forehead to yours. “So.. the project, you wanted to add something else?” He whispers before hooking his chin over your shoulder. You giggle quietly before throwing the notebook on the floor and kissing him once more.
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“You’ve done exceptionally well, which is surprising to me because Jeongguk seems to show as little interest in Greek mythology as I do when my wife continuously packs me cheese sandwiches for lunch.” Professor Song mumbles before throwing the sandwich on to his desk. You stand beside the man you love, head bowed down as you await your grade. “Very interesting how you formed the bond between Aphrodite and Hephaestus as a working love and not one made of anger like the books usually show. I was rather captured by it.”
You smirk as well as the god next to you. You can recall sitting underneath the weeping willow as Aphrodite brushed your hair telling you the tales of her marriage with her not so handsome husband as you wrote diligently into your notebook. “I do enjoy the hard facts, although what could be so hard about them when they’re fiction.” 
Jeongguk smirks beside you before pressing his fist to his lips. “But I also enjoy how you made them feel like real people. As I said before I was captured by it. You both get an A.” Your eyes shoot up to Professor Songs before you’re squealing and wrapping your arms around your partner. He hugs you tightly before chuckling as you jump up and down excitedly. “You get to graduate with honors, Y/N. Congratulations. I’m sure this really has given you excitement.” 
You thank him generously, having to be pulled out of the lecture hall by your boyfriend as you continue to jump up and down. His lips press to your forehead and you feel your body light up, your nerve ending jumping and vibrating at his touch. "Come with me, goddess. I’ve waited too long for this day."
His house is empty when you arrive, you can hear rain pattering against the windows. Adoneus sits patiently in front of the Dionysus statue before perking up at the sight of you. "You know when it rains, Zeus is angry or emotional about something. Since Jimin is not here, he must have done something to upset his father." 
You giggle at his words before watching as he snaps his fingers. Your clothes ripple before changing and your jaw drops as you feel the rich fabric against your skin. The peplos falls in rivets and you find your fingers feeling the silken fabric. “Beautiful.” 
His attire changes to a chiton and you find yourself feeling that fabric too. Pushing your body closer to his as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Goddess.”
You hum quizzically as your fingers drift over the baggy silk shirt, feeling his abs contort with every breath. You stand up, lips drifting over his golden skin and he lets out a gentle sigh. 
“Goddess.” You suck gentle patches over his neck, leaving small markings indicating him as yours. Your body jumps and he catches you easily, his hands finding purchase on the globes of your ass before squeezing gently. A small moan leaves you and his jaw flexes as you kiss over it. “Baby. We can’t, you know this.”
You hum to him as he squeezes your ass again, your legs wrap around his waist as your arms run over his shoulders. “I don’t want to explode into gold dust.”
His admission makes you giggle before you gyrate your lower body over his. His cock, hard and throbbing, as your core runs over his. “Zeus above.” His lips chase yours before pulling you into a kiss that sets off a glow between you both. “You’re being a bad girl, goddess. You know what you do to me.” 
You giggle before pulling him back in, his teeth bite your bottom lip. Pain radiating through you, you gasp only to have it be swallowed by his mouth as his tongue caresses yours. He moans loudly, a noise that mixes in with the thunder as it crashes loudly outside. You can feel your heartbeat pick up, as your fingers card through his black hair. His fingertips massage at your ass before walking over to the couch and laying you down gently. He straddles you before lifting the peplos and licking his lips. His coffee irises are all but black, blown out with lust as his bottom lip purchases between his teeth. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” His hands are warm as they caress your bare sides. He bows down, lips connecting to yours as your stomach begins to unfurl in wanting. His hands reach for your breasts before a throat clears.
You both jump before turning your heads to the noise. Aphrodite stands, leaning against her statue before biting an apple. Jeongguk jumps up before hauling you with him. He gives an embarrassed chuckle and you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush as she stares at you both. “In front of my statue? You would defile each other?” 
He rubs the back of his neck before looking at you and giving you a small smile. She laughs gently before throwing him the apple, which he catches with quick reflexes before sinking his teeth into it. “I came because you told Hermes something very special was happening today. I assume it isn’t you turning into gold dust?” 
He clears his throat before rubbing his hands together as if he’s getting scolded. “Yes. Um… Y/N is going to ascend today. That’s why she’s wearing the peplos.” His voice is a whisper before looking over at you, fingers scratching nervously at his scalp. He looks at his mother as she gasps. “Today?!”
You nod happily and within seconds she is lifting you off of the couch with ease before wrapping her arms around you and jumping. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait! I have so much to do! I-” She stops herself as her body rocks yours with glee. “Drink the Ambrosia slowly, your body will thank you for it. I have to go! I have to speak with Apollo, Dionysus, and Caerus. Oh! And-” She disappears within seconds, her body turning into gold shimmer before you two are left alone once more.
Jeongguk chuckles gently before wrapping his arms around you, “I think we can expect a festival awaiting us.” You wrap your arms around his before burying your face into his neck. His scent calms you and you feel your body ease into his. His hands drift over your hair, pulling your face ever closer to his body. “Are you ready?” 
You feel your throat tighten before looking up at him, his eyes are on yours. Alight with love and fiery passion before he snaps his fingers. Two gold goblets appear on the table and you gasp gently. The thick liquid calls out to you, glowing gently in the dim apartment. “Once you drink this you will become immortal. You will not age, you will not die. You will stay by my side forever. We'll be married in the eyes of the gods and goddesses of the pantheon."
Your eyes flicker to the cup before biting the skin on your lip. To be with this man, this god, for your eternity sounds something akin to pure bliss. Without a second thought you pick up the cup. The liquid ripples slowly and you can see Guk begin to smirk as he picks up his own. “I love you, goddess.”
“I love you, too.” You bring the goblet to your lips before sniffing it gently. The smell makes you blink, “Holy shit.”
His laugh is loud before he sips his own drink. “Yeah, I know.” The smell is clean and pleasant. You can only liken it to itself, seeing as how you’ve never smelt or drank anything like it. Although, come to think of it this is Jeongguk's scent that you could never put your finger on.
“Drink it slowly, baby.” Your lips part for the thick drink, eyes on his as his nose wrinkles. His hand lands on your clothed thigh, stroking it comfortingly as you take a small sip. The thickness coats your tongue, your tastebuds scream with pleasure as your eyes go wide. You can feel your mouth warm up as the flavor bursts within you. “Okay.” He whispers before grabbing the goblet as your head lolls back. 
You swallow the Ambrosia before your mind blanks. White noise fills your ears and Jeongguk sets down the goblets before cradling you in his arms as your body stiffens. You whimper gently at the locked feeling before your eyelids fall shut.  “You’re okay, goddess.” 
Your heart stops for a minute, veins falling still before your body jolts as an electrical current runs through you. It runs hot and fast, pushing your blood out of every vessel before you still once more. Your chest begins to glow, a subtle gold before it shines brightly, radiating through you to each limb. Your hands move first, numb but still pliable as you clench onto his arms. He pulls you to him, coddling you to his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. 
Your heart begins again, pumping furiously as your eyes snap open. “There she is.” Your mind becomes clear, a loud gasp emits through the room before you look down at your radiating skin. He hugs you tightly, lips kissing over your face as he tells you how much he adores you. “Thank you. For coming to me.”
You hug him back, sitting like this for a small while. You grab the goblet again before taking a sip and relishing at the taste. No food or drink could ever compare to its deliciousness and you find yourself never wanting to have anything else. “Snap your fingers for me.”
You raise an eyebrow as you look upon his handsome face. He closes his eyes and snaps, an apple appears on the table. “For me. Just let me see what your fruit is.” 
You snap your fingers before tilting your head as nothing happens. Jeongguk furrows his eyebrows before shrugging. You pout deeply making him chuckle before his lips are against your temple. “That’s okay, goddess. Not everyone can get a fru-”
His sentence is interrupted as the apartment begins to rumble. He widens his eyes before holding you close as the marble floor begins to crack and splinter. “What the fuck?” 
A tree erupts from the ground, groaning loudly as branches smack against the ceiling before apples begin to grow off of the tree's limbs. “Zeus above!” He pushes you off of him before stepping around the coffee table and plucking an apple off of the tree. Your mouth drops open and he laughs loudly before throwing the apple up in the air. “By the gods, you’re incredible.” 
He stands there before tilting his head to you, "You know, I've had a crush on you since that day you watched me on that bench." You smile gently at his admission before crossing your legs. That was a while ago now.
"Then why didn't you talk to me?" He hums to himself before clearing his throat. "Gods can be insecure too, goddess. Maybe I was just happy to sit next to you every day." You mewl at his words gently before taking another sip of your Ambrosia.
He takes a bite of the apple before chuckling to himself. He holds out his hand as he walks towards the hallway. “Come, my goddess. You have a welcome party to attend to.”
You watch, eyes enraptured as the walls turn into jelly before he pushes open the simple closet door. Clouded stairs greet your path, illuminated by a lavender sun. He steps onto the clouds before smiling at you. “Come.” He holds his hand out waiting for you as you peek your head through the door. 
“Holy shit. This is…”
“Olympus.” You can hear wings flap and as you step out nervously, foot tapping against the cloud to make sure it's stable you see a flying horse with a man on its back. “Is that…?”
“Pegasus and Heracles. Yes.” You squeal loudly, feet stomping on the cloud making him laugh gently. “I’m sure you’ll meet many of my family. If Jimin had a hand in this party, you’re in for a treat.” 
He goes to step up the staircase with you before turning sharply. “Try not to let my aunts touch your skin. They’re insane.”
He steps up another step before stopping, “And, don’t drink too much Ambrosia. You’ll get sick.”
You nod thoughtfully as he stops at every stair. You whine loudly as excitement courses through you wanting to see the pantheon just a few meters away. “And don’t leave my side.”
“Don’t touch any animals.”
“Don’t accept any offering that demigods try to give you.” You roll your eyes as you begin to ascend with him. 
“If you see Helios, don’t look directly into his eyes or your skin will burn.”
“Hymenaios will congratulate you on our wedding, if he tries to-”
“Jeongguk!”  He tilts his head with a pout as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Relax. I’m going to be just fine.”
His lips drift over your hairline before nodding, “Yes, goddess.”
Harpsichords begin to play as you cross the golden gates. Your breathing stops as you take in the bustling pantheon in front of you. You eye the floating isles set upon clouds and jagged stones and in the distance you can see Jeongguk’s home. You point to it before squealing and he smiles at you. “Yes, that is our home.” 
You hug him tightly, feet stepping giddily on the stone floor as you gasp as Pegasus steps in front of you both. “Eros.”
“Herc. Pleasure.” 
The horse brushes it’s white face against you and you look up at the divine hero. He bows his head to you before smiling. “Goddess. Good morning to you.” His body was chiseled and riddled with scars from his battles that he so dutifully fought. You find yourself beginning to swoon as his pectoral muscles ripple. “The Hall is getting ready for your arrival. I was told to bring you this.” 
Heracles snaps his fingers and you feel a weight on your skull. Jeongguk hums gently before fixing your hair behind your ears. “Pretty gift. From who?”
“Theia and Aphrodite.” He nods and you point at your head. “Is it a crown?” 
He wrinkles his nose cutely before nodding. “A pretty one too.” 
“Well. I’ll be off. Pegasus, say goodbye to our new goddess.” The horse whinnies loudly and you gasp with delight before petting his head. “Hi Pegasus!” 
Jeongguk steps back to look at you in your entirety, his heart swells with adoration before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing gently. “Oh!”
You look up at Heracles once more as he snaps. “Have a nice flight.” Winged sandals appear on your feet and you gasp loudly, gripping at Jeongguk’s chiton as you float above the floor. Pegasus takes off, wings flapping loudly in the breeze before flying into the clouds above you. “It takes some time to get used to, like riding a bike.”
“You know how to ride a bike?” You find yourself asking with a laugh, he chuckles as he begins to float beside you. “No, but I can ride a chariot and that is much more impressive.” 
You reach the hall screaming bloody murder as Jeongguk laughs loudly. “You’re fine, goddess. See.” He plants himself down on the gold steps of the large hall. Your head lolls back as your mouth opens to take in the gorgeous architecture. Pillars of marble and gold hold up the high ceilings. You eye carefully the way the pillars are cut with precision, swirls at the base and tops leaving the columns looking regal and defined. “Eros!”
That is a voice you know very well. You look at Jimin as he flies towards you with a wide smile. “Y/N! Can you do this yet?” He spins like a top as he floats in the air before doing a somersault. “I just got here like five minutes ago. I can barely float.” He laughs loudly before finding purchase on the ground. He produces a cup of Ambrosia before handing it to you.
“You had to hear her, screaming like a banshee. I’m sure Hades could hear her in the Underworld.” You scowl at your man as he chuckles delighted. Your eyes look past Jimin as godly women arrange a banquet, the likes of which you’ve never seen before. “Well, well.” 
You turn excitedly to the woman who mothered the god you so love. She wraps you into a hug before a lyre begins to play throughout the sky. “The beautiful goddess is here. I’m so happy for you.” Her hand feels warm upon your cheek as you giggle shyly. “We have many people to meet, wouldn’t you say?”
“Mother, we’ve only just arrived.” She tuts her tongue at her son before smiling at you. “Demeter. Come meet Eros’ wife. She’s an absolute vision.” She pulls you away from Jeongguk as he scoffs quietly. 
“Family really is so annoying.” He whispers to his cousin before snapping his fingers and producing a glass of wine. 
“Demeter, this is Y/N. Eros’ wife.” A woman turns to you and you can do all but gasp at her beauty. Her peplos is the color of wheat, which is apt for the goddess of grains and harvest. She hums delighted before putting her hands upon your face. You feel a jolt run through you before you’re licking your lips. “Well now, how gorgeous is this one.”
You smile shyly as she fixes the gold crown atop your head before giving you a motherly smile. “She has a beauty fit for a goddess. I wish my Persephone were here to see this.” You clear your throat gently before looking over at Aphrodite as she drinks from a glass of wine. “She has immortality, but not eternal youth. This must be fixed. Right away. Don’t want you wrinkling, goddess. Hebe!”
Your attention turns to a young woman, black curls shroud her shoulders as her young face smiles at you three. “Oh! Mother!” Jeongguk whines loudly as Hebe skips over. His voice is like a song you would love to hear for all of eternity. Hebe stands in front of you before clapping happily.
“We must do something about your skin. It is already turning pale.” You point at yourself, eyes widening at the goddess of youth. She nods early before snapping her fingers and producing a small vial. “Drink. This is from my fountain.”
You take the vial before looking down at the water from the fountain of youth within your palm. “Go on, Y/N. It’ll be but a minute.” You uncork the vial before drinking the water. “Zeus above!” Jeongguk yells loudly before dropping his goblet to the floor as your body goes still.
He flies over to you, catching you quickly as the three women giggle with childish intent. “You could have let her sit or something.” You feel your skin become softer, hair becoming shinier underneath your gold crown and Jeongguk’s eyes soften before running his thumb over your cheek. “Why must she sit when she has you. So eager to catch the young goddess.” 
He scoffs gently before helping you stand back up, his lips brush against your cheek. Your stomach unfurls in wanting as your hand snakes around his neck. “I do hope you enjoy my wedding gift, Eros. Doesn’t come cheap.” Demeter jeers before turning back to the banquet table. 
“I told you not to let them touch you.” He whispers through clenched teeth as you begin to smile at his handsome face. Your lower body begins to glow, womb glistening like the sun making Guk scoff.
“Oh, Zeus above, Demeter! Really?! You could have just given her a loaf of fucking bread.” Demeter giggles before fixing the wheat in her cornucopia. “Where’s the fun in that god of love?” 
The welcome party goes off without a hitch. You find yourself leaning into a conversation with Odysseus and Persyus as they tell you their wondrous tales that only heroes could live. Jeongguk has kept you close to him throughout the night, his hand never leaving your waist as you converse with the gods and goddesses you had believed were a myth your whole life. “Wife.” Jeongguk calls your attention and your head is already lifting to look up at him. “Let’s go for a walk. Hmm?”
He takes your hand before kissing it gently and you bow gracefully to the two heroes before you are off with the god you so ardently love. “Gods, they don’t shut up. If I have to hear Theseus tell the tale of how he battled a minotaur one more time, I might rip my own ears off.”
You laugh gently as you both begin to float off of the island towards Jeongguk’s home. It dawns on you now that this is your own home as well. “Shall I take my goddess home?” He whispers in your ear as his arms wrap around you. You giggle before burying your face into his neck, “I think so.” 
You step inside of the castle, your eyes not knowing where to land as fires begin to light up the cold halls. “It hasn’t been lived in for a long time.” He whispers before looking around almost as astounded as you. He pulls your hand as you both step onto the floor. You take in the jewelled floors, how they shimmer and sparkle within the orange lighting of the fire. His feet pad up a marble staircase taking you with him as you notice the missing sword on the wall. Your throat clenches at his memories you’ve seen so vividly. Your hand brushes along the gold walls, feeling the expensive metal beneath your fingertips as he turns to you. “This is our home now. This home will be filled with love and joy. The walls will tell tales of how ardently we love one another.”
Your eyes catch Artemis as she flits down the hall and you smile widely. "Couldn't leave her on Earth by herself now could we." 
You smile at him, heart beginning to race as he lifts you up with ease wrapping your legs around his waist. “I love you, goddess.”
Your hands card through his hair as he walks into the master bedroom. “I love you, too.”
He looks at the bed before frowning. This bed holds many memories that would not do. You snap your fingers and the bed changes entirely. From gold to silver. From red bed sheets to white silk with four bed posts made of ivory. Jeongguk whistles before kissing you softly. “Now that gets my cock hard.” 
Your giggle ricochets off of the golden walls as he lays you down gently. “You know… We’re married now.” You hum to him as he kisses down the expanse of your neck, eyes fluttering shut as his lips pluck at the thin skin. “We are.”
His lips suckle sweetly at your neck, tongue licking over the reddening skin as he marks you as his own. Your stomach unfurls once more, pants beginning to rip from your chest as your legs squeeze his waist. He groans gently before snapping his fingers and you are utterly naked underneath him. “Zeus above, you’re so beautiful.”
With the snap of your fingers, he too is naked before you. In the dim orange lighting you can see every shadow, every curve of his muscles. The way his eyebrows furrow as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. Your eyes dance over his handsome face, watching as he bows his head down to lavish sweetly upon your body. His hands cup your breasts, lips sucking marks around an areola before encasing it with his perfectly shaped lips. Your back bows off of the white bed. Fingers running through his hair before pulling gently. You relish in the short gasp he takes at the pain and you could feel your arousal beginning to weep from you. 
His large hands spread your thighs, as his tongue flicks against your nipple. Soft moans emit throughout the large bedroom as his hands begin to grip tighter at your sensitive flesh. “Guk!”
“Yes, goddess?” His voice is deep as his eyes meet yours, in the light of the fire you can see how blown out his pupils are as he licks at his lips. “Want you.”
“You have me.” His fingers run over the expanse of your thighs before his lips begin to trail lower. Hands grasp at your hips as he groans lowly. “You do taste so sweet.” 
If you could have any thoughts you would recall how much like this your dream was that you had not so long ago but all melts away as his teeth nip playfully at the skin of your pubic bone. “Shall I taste the sweetest tulip I’ve ever seen?” He cocks his head to the side, black hair falling into his eyes and you could orgasm on the spot of how handsome he is. Hands falling from his hair, your fingertips drift over his muscled arms, leading over to his pectoral muscles and down to his abs. You find it hard to concentrate as he sits up tall for you, letting you explore his body. The sinew of muscle constricts as you touch him and his head lolls back at the feeling. "Gods, your touch is incredible."
You go to sit up before he is narrowing his eyes at you. "Lay back and shower me in your pleasure." You whine gently as your hands continue to stroke his abs, wanting nothing more than to lick and suckle his taught skin.
"Goddess, bad vixens get punished in this house." Your breath catches in your throat as his head bows back down. His tongue sweeps over your closed pussy lips and you sigh gently at the feeling of his mouth upon you. He snaps his fingers and your arms are pulled over your head as white silk bands wrap around your wrists. "Guk!" He chuckles gently before spreading open your pussy lips. 
He moans at the sight before licking a flat swipe up your sex, gathering your arousal on his tongue. "Sweeter than Ambrosia. I'd like to taste this every minute of every day, Zeus above."
You become aware of harpsichord music as his lips kiss your swollen clit. The melody is a sweet song that has your brain beginning to feel fuzzy. "Shouldn't have let Demeter touch you. Her gift makes me want to impregnate your fertile little cunt." He mumbles to himself before suckling harshly at your clit. Your body bows off of the bed, thighs pressing against his head as you moan loudly. He snaps and your ankles are stretched open and pulled tightly down onto the bed leaving you perfectly exposed for him.
"I'm going to put a god inside of your womb tonight, goddess. Would you like that?" You whimper loudly as his index finger begins to tease your entrance. "Fuck you so well the whole pantheon sees my child growing inside of you." 
The thought has his head swimming as his lips attach back to your engorged bundle of nerves. His finger enters you slowly, moans coaxed from the both of you. Guk curls his finger slowly yet expertly to the patch inside of you that has sobs wracking from your body. Your body begins to float up and his free hand pins you down to the bed as he slowly adds in another finger. "Guk! Fuck!" He hums against you, tongue flicking faster as your arousal begins to coat his cheeks and chin. The harp grows ever louder as your body begins to illuminate for your husband between your legs. It is then that your heart begins to beat fast, stomach tightening as you whimper louder. "Shower me in your pleasure, goddess. I love you so much." 
"Jeon-gguk!" He moans against you gently, eyes rolling back as he feels your cunt begin to pulsate around his fingers. "That's it, goddess." The light from your body begins to shine brighter and he watches your face, drinking in the pure pleasure written upon it. 
Your stomach tightens to the fullest before your head is lolling back. "Fuck! I'm cumming!" He grips at your hip harder, your words sending all of his blood straight to his cock. His teeth graze across your clit before you're cumming loudly. The stars of the galaxy paint the back of your eyelids as you fall over the edge. The harp gets drowned out as white noise replaces it. You moan his name loudly, both of them Eros and Jeongguk alike and he sits up to watch you with greedy eyes. "Gods, you're gorgeous."
Jeongguk slowly pulls out of you. He suckles on his fingers, savoring the sweet taste of you. His hand rubs at your glowing sides, letting you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue, sweet and thick as he cups your face with his hand. His forehead connects to yours before muttering the only three words that seem to matter. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Your hands strain against the fabric before you pout. He chuckles, sweet breath fanning your face before you're slyly smirking at him. You snap your fingers and like that, you're free from your confines. Your body lifts up before shoving him down onto the bed, he gasps gently before chuckling. 
"I guess I'm not the only one who holds power in this home." You giggle before planting a chaste kiss upon his lips. Trailing downward, your tongue sweeps small circles over his golden skin as he glows from the orange flames. He gasps gently, mouth dropping open before his eyes flutter shut. You lick at his chest, dancing over the taught, muscular skin. He groans gently, whispering your name reverently as his hands run through your hair. You feel it again, the feeling that sends tingles through your body. Begging for the man underneath you, Jeongguk's eyes flutter open before smirking as your lower half begins to glow. "Someone's womb is dying to be filled with the seed of Eros. Hmm?" 
You snap your fingers, white silk ribbons wrap around his wrists before yanking his arms above his head. He groans gently before chuckling. "You're astounding, goddess." You know he could easily release himself from them but he makes no move as your hands run over his thick thighs. You take all of him in now, almost gasping at his large size as his cock twitches with need. He was long and thick making your mouth water. Rose colored veins peppering his long length as it rests against his stomach. His bulbous head is blushed pink and you can help but notice the gentle curve of his immaculate cock. He whimpers when you touch his inner thighs. Hips bowing off of the bed begging for something more. "It's been so long since I've been touched." He admits and you watch how precum begins to pool at his slit. 
The precum shimmers in the lighting and you feel your mouth go dry, begging to taste it. You wrap your hand around the base, earning a hiss from the god beneath you before kissing over his length. He groans long and low as his head smacks into the mattress. "Oh gods, goddess you don't know how long I've waited for your touch." If it's half as long as you, you have a pretty good idea.
His cock is heavy in the palm of your hand, twitching with bliss as you press your lips to the smooth skin. The harpsichords begin to play once more as you reach the head. Your tongue darts out, licking the thick precum off of him before your eyes widen at the taste. There is no musk, nothing of the sort. He tastes of Ambrosia and you find yourself pumping his cock quicker for more. Delectable is the only word to describe it. You moan gently for him, a noise that makes him grunt gently before your tongue swirls around the blushed head of his cock. He moans loudly, eyes squeezing shut as his chest begins to glow. "Oh goddess!" 
Your mouth engulfs him, hands caressing his abed stomach as you hollow your cheeks. He is heavy against your tongue, shimmering precum streaming endlessly into your mouth as he moans your name. What you cannot fit inside of you, you begin to stroke. His body begins to twitch with pleasure, thighs flexing and unflexing before he is snapping his fingers. His hands fall free before he is sitting up to watch you suck him diligently. "You fuck my cock into your mouth so well."
You whimper, thighs pressing against each other for some relief as you feel the emptiness of your cunt radiate through you. His hands grab at your hair, pulling it away from your face to view you easier. Your tongue runs flat licks over the base, the sounds of your cheeks hollowing and sucking him echo through the room and he gasps loudly as he grips your hair tighter. "Oh fuck! Goddess! Thank you for pleasing me so well." 
Your eyes shut at his praise and his thumb sweeps across your cheek bone as you feel him begin to throb within your mouth. His body glows brighter, moans beginning to reach new levels of high. His fingertips roll and pluck at your nipples as his bottom lip purchases between his teeth. Your hands cup his balls, squeezing and rolling them gently within your hands and you whimper as he whispers your name with reverence. "Oh shit! I'm going to cum. Oh gods, fuck, it feels so good, Y/N!" 
You swallow around him diligently, nose nestling to his pubic bone as you let him use your throat as a cocksleeve. "Oh goddess, how I love you." He begins to fuck your face, he pulls at your hair gently. The feeling sent straight to your core as your new wave of arousal begins to weep from you. Your eyes well up with tears as he whimpers loudly. "Goddess! Yes! I-I" He falls silently as his body begins to float into the air, taking you with him. His head falls back as he gasps quietly. "Cumming. Fuck, baby. I'm cumming for you." 
His cock throbs wildly before stilling, warm ropes of cum paint your throat and you relish in the sweet taste of him. He moans your name so loudly that the gold walls of the castle vibrate gently. He glows brightly before you both fall back down onto the bed. Your hands run over his chest as he breathes raggedly. His tongue licks at his pretty pink lips before he raises his head to look at you. His smile makes your throat tense up, the most beautiful god is really beneath you.
His hands coddle your body to his before he is laying you back and kissing you gently. His knees knock open your legs, thumb caressing your cheek and jaw as he aligns himself to you. His cock gently brushes open your lips, gathering your arousal on the underside of his cock. You moan as his bulbous head prods at your engorging clit. His lips press to yours quickly before putting his forehead to you. "Shower me in your pleasure, goddess."
The harpsichords resound throughout the room, gentle and melodic as the head of his cock prods at your entrance. Hands grip at his tattooed arms, eyes on one another's as he inches slowly inside of you. There is a burn as he stretches your pussy for him. Your cunt muscles clench and squeeze against the thick intrusion and he kisses you languidly as he takes his time. He buries himself to the hilt, choking on a moan as his tongue caresses yours. "You're so tight, goddess. So fucking wet." 
Kissing over your jaw, he gives a small thrust to work open your pussy and you could feel every curve of his cock, every part of your cunt filled by him. His moans are gentle as his thumbs brush over your nipples. "You'll take my child so well, pretty tits will swell with the milk of the gods."
Your pussy clenches around him as your womb glows brightly. "You'd like that, goddess. Wouldn't you? Like to have a god within your womb. Growing my child strong for Olympus." 
"Yes! Please! I want to be pregnant with your child." He moans at your reply, lips crashing down on yours as he kisses you with unbearable wanting. It is then that he pulls out slowly, the bulbous head of his cock drags deliciously through your walls before thrusting back inside.
Your back bows off of the bed, eyes rolling back as your body begins to sing with white hot pleasure. He begins a lazy pace, whispering words of ardor over you as his lips kiss at your skin. Your bodies begin to float and he takes this time to wrap his arms around you, arm muscles rippling as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.
"Guk! More, please." He whimpers against your neck, tongue lazily sweeping circles over your skin before lifting his head. "Yes, goddess."
His thrusts pick up speed, your legs wrap around his waist as he grips at your hips. You can see the way his black hair begins to coat in a shimmering sweat, sticking to his forehead. His bottom lip finds purchase between his teeth as he pumps his cock into your needy cunt. "Gods, you feel so amazing. Your, fuck, your pussy is so incredible."
You sit up, chest smacking into his as you both float higher, your body bouncing on his with each thrust. His hands snake to the globes of your ass, squeezing roughly as he pulls you in for a kiss. You can see his body begin to glow once more, starting at his heart and spreading to his limbs. His strong arms take control, lifting your body with ease as your arousal begins to drip down his balls.
"Oh fuck! Eros!" With each thrust, the head of his cock prods against your cervix folds and your head lolls back as your body begins to radiate. Your toes begin to curl, the sound of the harp getting drowned out by both of your moans. It is then that he presses you both back down into the bed. Grabbing your ankles and hauling them over his shoulders as he bucks into you with fervent need.
"Y/N! Oh fuck! I'm going to spill my seed into your womb. Gonna fill you up so much you have no choice but to get pregnant with my child." The new angle has his bulbous head brushing against the bundle of nerves within you. His hands trail over your body, pinching and plucking at your stiff nipples before reaching for the apex between your thighs.
His fingers rub quick circles against your clit and your breath catches within your throat. Your body careens towards the precipice, the room filling up with white light as you moan his name loudly. You become acutely aware of how your pussy begins to throb around him, your mind going blank as you murmur his name like a prayer. "Goddess, I feel it. I feel your pretty little pussy trying to milk me of my seed. Cum on my cock, baby."
Your eyes flutter shut, hands grip at his arms. Your fingernails dig into his golden skin as it sings with pleasure. The pleasure, so intense, it brings tears to your eyes as you whimper for him. "I love you. Cum for me." 
His thumb and index finger squeeze your swollen bundle of nerves gently and that's all it takes as you orgasm for him. Your heart beats voraciously fast, body tingling with new found pleasure as you cum for him. White noise fills your brain and you sob loudly at the pleasure. "Good girl." 
His face is back to your neck, lips plucking at your delicate skin as he chases his own high. "Oh gods, you came all over me goddess. Squirted all over me. So gorgeous." 
Fuzzily, you lift your head to look at his lower body, your cum shimmering on his thighs and cock. He fucks into you faster, tongue licking at his lips before his eyes are rolling back. His black hair tickles the skin of your neck as he moans your name like a prayer. “Oh fuck, Y/N! I’m going to cum! Get you so nice and big with my child inside of you.”
His words are a promise, a promise that fuels his desire to give you his everything. “Yes, please fill me Eros. Give me your child!” He groans loudly as he lifts his head. His coffee irises begin to turn white as he bites his bottom lip. You feel it then, how fast his cock begins to throb within you, begging to unleash his cum deep inside of you. You can see the love, the pleasure, the wanting written over his handsome features as his eyes flutter shut. His mouth opens, tongue caressing the skin of his bottom lip before his eyebrows furrow.
“Fuck! Goddess!” His hands grasp at your hips as you begin to float higher than before. The harps song begins to quicken and your back begins to arch as Guk moans. “Oh gods, I’m cumming.”
His body bursts with white light, so bright you have to squeeze your eyes shut as his cock stills inside of you. He gives small thrusts before moaning so loudly your ears ring. The orange flames of the room are burnt out as a gust of wind sweeps throughout the bedroom. Ropes of cum greet your needy cunt. Your womb swells with his seed as his cum never seems to cease. It fills you with warmth, numbing your body and you feel euphoric as he hugs you tightly to him.
He kisses over your sweaty skin, peppering you with love as you both slowly float back down to the bed. The harp turns into the sounds of a lyre before you hear trumpets begin to resound. He chuckles gently against you before shaking his head. “Welcome to Olympus.” 
You giggle before running your hands through his sweaty hair. He hugs you tightly before pulling out of you slowly, his tongue licks at hips before he's humming in amusement. His fingers splayed open the lips of your pussy before groaning. "Zeus above, that's hot." You watch as his cum seeps out of you, coating the silk sheets beneath you as it sparkles. 
"I can't believe you have glittery cum." He laughs loudly, head falling back before he snaps his fingers changing the sheets beneath you both. He lays down beside you, arm wrapping around your waist before pulling your back flush to his chest. "I love you."
"I love you too." 
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Waking up in Olympus can only be described as rapture. Leaving Guk alone in the bed, you snap your fingers as you walk towards the open balcony. A light blue peplos enwraps your body and you can smell Ambrosia on the wind as you lean against the marble railing of the balcony. The lavender sky hangs high above the pantheon and you close your eyes taking in the heated rays. Once an enigma to you, Jeongguk has become everything you could have dreamed of and you find your eyes welling with tears as you open them once more.
You take in the sight of gods and goddess flying around to get from the Elysian Fields to even the market. “Goddess?” His voice croaks with the sound of morning and you giggle before putting your hands underneath your chin. You hear the sheets ruffle as he awakes and your head tilts to look at a garden with a fountain in the center. In the distance you can see Hebe sitting on the edge of the fountain combing her hair and you fill with calmness. “Good morning.” 
His arms wrap around you before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Good morning.” He pulls back before looking at the blue peplos and smirking. “You feel different today?”
You raise an eyebrow before turning to him. “Different?” He hums before kissing your lips gently. 
“Blue.” He pulls at the peplos before looking past you towards the pantheon.
His hands run down your arms to your stomach and you go wide eyed as he turns you back around. “Pregnancy is different here, goddess.” You choke on your own spit before looking down at your stomach. Just a small bump, maybe signifying that you were two to three months pregnant and yet, you’re still mystified by it.
“You-I- We just did it yesterday.” He laughs, a sweet melodic sound as his breath fans the back of your neck. “Yes, we did. A very good night for me indeed.” You snort as your womb begins to glow underneath his touch.  It hits you then.
“What about my job as a mythologist? What about everything on Earth?” He hugs you tightly as Pegasus flies above the castle.
“I’d say this is better than studying myths, don’t you think? You’re living one.” You ponder on this thought for a second before you begin to smile. “I’d say so.”
He sighs gently before rubbing at your stomach. “It’s a boy y’know. That’s why you’re wearing blue.” Your heart swells before turning to him, his hands caging you against the railing as the prop up on either side of you. “Although the world will never write about your story, they will never know the tales of how Eros grew to love again. How our love culminated into the greatest gift of being-” His hands press to your stomach as you tilt your head, “-the pantheon will know. They will know how ardently I treasure and adore you. The gods and goddesses will know how you make my heart sing.” Your fingers reach up and touch the gold necklace around your neck and his nose wrinkles. He wraps you in his arms, chest beginning to glow as his forehead presses to yours. “For Eros, the god of love found his own in a woman whose heart made his own weep with Ambrosia, sing like the winds of the Elysian Fields and dream such sweet dreams only Morpheus would provide.”
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