#then. speaking to a colleague. she was quoting saying 'thank you' to someone. and. I thought she was thanking me. and said 'you're welcome'

[bluethedream]

wanna crawl off to a dark corner and never leave

[gyllenhaalstories]

OH, THE MISTLETOE — JERRY BRINSON 🎄

summary: you have been invited to your friend's work party for christmas and she played santa's little helper to match you with her coworker.

warnings: i tried to keep the story accurate to its setting in the 1960s but i'm sure there are anachronisms, mention of divorce, alcohol & food, mostly fluff, smut, (pussy eating & fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4070

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: in the original script, jerry works at, and i quote, 'a mid-range sporting good store' so i kept this detail rather than what was shown in the movie, it suits my man better. this is what my brain chose to write after months of not even forming a coherent sentence... so ambitious and exhausting. i lost count of how many things i googled to make sure they existed in 1960s (and how many photos of jello salads i looked at). i suggest listening to vintage oldies to enjoy this fic to the fullest. ❤️💚 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Take those cookies to the table, will you? I'll drop our coats off at the back of the store. I cleaned it well before the end of my shift yesterday, so don't worry about dust and grime. I'm not quite sure what type of dust golf clubs can leave behind anyway..." Your friend spoke, mostly to herself, as she held on to the platter of baked goods while you removed your winter coat.

After a swift exchange, you watched her head towards the back of the sporting good store while you followed the path of a few other people who brought food for the potluck.

Jerry emerged from the back store where he, too, had put away his winter clothes. He stopped by the mirrors to neatly fix his hair. He arranged his clothes too, he did not look all that bad for a man who had spent a solid hour shovelling snow off the side walk before the guests arrived.

In order to convince you to attend the Christmas party with her, your friend made you a promise. She swore she would stay with you until she found someone else you would get along with, forbidding you from looking sad and lonely all by yourself in a corner of the store until she would be ready to leave. She could be quite convincing, your friend.

But she also lived with her head up in the clouds, you doubted you would find friendship in a group of employees and their partners who decided to hang out together one last time before the Holiday break.

Jerry quickly greeted his colleague, this bubbly young lady who always had a topic to babble about. His poor attempt at small talk quickly took a turn when he felt dragged by the arm in the opposite direction of where he was headed. This colleague of his briefly explained that she had someone he absolutely needed to meet.

"This right here is none other than Jerry Brinson. He's the best vendor we've ever had at the store. But I already told you that, haven't I?"

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friend came back with a mysterious man on her arm. You fought a giggle when you noticed that this same man seized the first opportunity he saw to withdraw himself from the forced embrace. You stretched out your hand to shake his. Jerry's grip was firm, it conveyed a level of confidence that did not match the hesitant smile on his face.

"I wouldn't say that, you're good too." Jerry replied with a light shrug.

"Nonsense." Your friend brushed off his not-so heartfelt praise before she shamelessly continued her sales pitch. "Jerry could sell snow boots to a polar bear if one ever rang the bell on the counter... Oh! Speaking of which, did you read it in the papers?" Jerry and you shook your heads simultaneously. "Apparently they've spotted one of those up north, near the big river."

Again, Jerry and you seemed connected. You both shot her an incredulous look. "I don't think there are polar bears in Montana."

Jerry timidly nodded his head in agreement. If there were bears around, surely they were not white. And surely they would not walk in a random store right in the middle of Great Falls.

Your friend sighed at your ungratefulness. She tried so hard to set you up with good company and there you were, ruining her attempts. She gave you an obvious glance of encouragement, which you met with an annoyed eye roll. Right when you thought things could not get more awkward, your friend excused herself when she spotted her fiancé entering the already crowded store.

You stood alone with Jerry. The conversation immediately fell flat. You both exchanged shy and avoidant looks while everybody else mingled cheerfully. Jerry took a moment to study you, from head to toe. You would have caught his eye, even without the intervention of the self-proclaimed cupid's assistant he called his coworker. The manager's daughter, in fact. After a while, he broke the heavy silence. "I don't know who I'm waitin' to impress here." Jerry chuckled, visibly no less uncomfortable than when your friend carried the entire discussion.

"For what it's worth, there's no need to impress her. You can't out talk a chatterbox." You glanced over your shoulder, the social butterfly you called your friend now paraded her partner left and right. You turned your attention back to the man before you.

"Wasn't talking about her." Jerry replied bluntly. "But it's good to know she's always like that. Talking is great, it gets you to connect with the client. It makes it easier to sell what they want rather than what they need, but she..." He marked a pause while he racked his brain in the search of polite terms. "She's got a lot of enthusiasm."

"Spoken like a true salesman."

"What can I say? You got the employee of the month for the twenty-something time in a row standing right in front of ya."

You arched a playful brow. "Only twenty times?"

"Oh, yeah, that's when the boss started this gimmick."

Your genuine laugh made his shoulders relax. You could tell he was not one to brag, he made that clear when he did not allow your friend to stroke his ego by listing out all of his exploits.

"Wanna grab a bite?" He suggested when he noticed that several other guests already lined up by the tables.

You happily agreed. You waited in the queue, filled your plate with a few bites of the most appetizing dishes then you walked back to your initial spot. You looked over your shoulder, expecting to see Jerry following you, but he was taking his sweet time. When he finally walked back, he balanced a precarious plate of food in one hand and a beer in the other all the while he chewed on something. He looked like a chipmunk with full cheeks, you laughed at the imagery.

"You know... If I gotta sell one thing tonight, it's those cookies." He pointed at the folding tables by the wall.

On the red table cloth, no dish was left untouched. Not even the several variations of Jell-O salads that left you wondering how many of those concoctions were too many for one single party. You distinguished a familiar serving platter that looked rather empty.

"Have you tried the cookies? You gotta try them." Jerry set his beer and his plate down on the nearest surface he could find, which turned out to be a pile of shoe boxes. He reached a hand behind your back, with the intention to guide you to the array of miscellaneous meals that composed the potluck. But he quickly withdrew himself. "Wait."

You nodded. This time, you watched him make his way through the crowd as if he was playing hockey on ice. He glided expertly and he avoided the attempts at pointless chitchat from friends and colleagues.

Jerry returned with a pyramid of cookies on a paper napkin. "I could've eaten the whole platter, they're delicious."

"I know." You spoke before Jerry even had time to hand you the bigger half of the cookie he just broke in two. He looked up from the napkin, his head slightly tilted. "I baked them."

"You did?" He watched you take a bite, you did not eat with as much appetite as he did. He assumed you were already aware of your delicious talent. "Gotta have to teach me." For a second, you noticed the way his gaze appeared vacant. His mind drifted to the thought of his ex-wife, Jeannette, when she revealed she had been teaching that old Miller guy how to swim. The mere comparison between this party he shared with a lovely stranger and what happened before his divorce left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You frowned, the desire to inquire about this sudden change in his expression tickled your mind but you decided to stay quiet.

Jerry put on a small grin, picking up where he left off. "I'd like the recipe, if you don't mind sharing it. I'm sure my son would love it a lot more than the cake I baked for his birthday last year. Christ, that was a disaster." To put it briefly, he was glad he knew how to extinguish a fire.

You both chuckled, Jerry went on to explain how he swapped the sugar and salt, amongst other mistakes. You listened intently to more of his stories about his son. He loved his child dearly, that you could tell. You could also tell that your friend had lied to you. While boasting about her handsome colleague, she made a point in explaining how he seemed like a quiet man unless a conversation about sports sparked up. You witnessed the complete opposite.

Eventually, the two of you decided to sit down on one of the benches by the shoe racks. The anecdotes started to blend together, to the point that even Jerry realized that he was becoming bothersome. "You still sure I can't outdo your friend? 'Cause it feels like I've been talking your ears off."

You grabbed the last cookie he had brought out to share together. You nodded at Jerry when he insisted that you needed to let him know if he got you bored out of your mind with his stories about his wild life. In the distance, you caught a glimpse of your friend's approving smile that beamed brighter than the Christmas lights hung around the store for this special occasion.

*~*~*

"There you are."

You turned around to look at Jerry who leaned against the door frame. Above his head, you noticed that somebody had hung a garland of mistletoe.

"Thought you had sneaked out on me." Jerry's chin pointed in direction of the pile of coats. He then apologized for getting distracted by a conversation with his boss. "Wasn't far from the truth, huh?"

You shook your head and finally found your coat, you put it on. "It's getting late, better make it home before I have to walk in two feet of snow." Jerry echoed your laughter.

He nodded understandingly when you explained that your friend promised you a ride home, but in the end she insisted on staying at the party with her fiancé. Jerry expected a question that never came. "I'll drive you."

You quickly declined his offer. You did not live too far away, you did not want to bother him. Excuses.

"A pretty dress like this wasn't made for a hike in the snow." More excuses.

You tilted your head and, with a deep sigh, you accepted.

"Stubborn." You heard him whisper the word when you brushed shoulders as Jerry reached through the pile to dig up his coat. His keys fell from the pocket, so he bent down to pick them up from the floor. "Those shoes weren't made for walking outside either, darlin'."

You conceded, you would not make it the whole way back home in such an outfit.

"May I interest you in a brand new item we received? It just got invented by a smart fella from Maine. They're called ski boots. They're boots... For skiing."

"Revolutionary." You faked a dramatic gasp, successfully pulling another chuckle out of Jerry. "I'll have to visit the store again, then."

"I work five days a week, miss. I'll be happy to assist." With a wink, he offered you his arm to hold.

You glanced up at the garland of mistletoe one last time. Jerry put on his coat without bothering to zip it closed and he led the way to the exit. When the door shut behind the two of you, the infernal chattering noise finally quieted down. Jerry and you exchanged a knowing look with a mutual appreciation to for the newfound tranquility outside of the party.

*~*~*

Jerry parked in front of your apartment building. He hurried to the passenger door that he held open for you. He expected an invitation that did come this time.

You stood by the car, locking eyes with Jerry for a moment. "A handsome face like yours wasn't made to freeze out in the cold now, was it?" You smiled as you began to walk towards the door of your apartment.

The sound of Jerry's footsteps in the snow confirmed he followed you closely. You exchanged another longing look while you unlocked the front door of your apartment. You let him walk in first, he quickly untied his shoes and he placed them besides yours on the entrance mat. He helped you with your coat that he hung according to your instructions.

You noticed that Jerry was chuckling. "What is it?" You asked with a confused frown.

"It's real quiet in here." He admitted and you wholeheartedly agreed.

You brushed shoulders again as you made your way to the radio in your living room. You tuned in to your favourite radio station. It played Christmas music, the perfect ambience to calmly extend the party that started at the store. "Better?"

"Better indeed, darlin'." Jerry flashed you a smile that made you feel warm all over. Silence crept in the room, except this time it was much more comfortable than when you first met at the beginning of the party. Still, Jerry insisted on breaking it. "Smells really good in here." He could discern the scent of freshly baked goods, he assumed it was the remnants of the cookies, but there was something else to it.

"I made some mulled wine earlier, I haven't cleaned the pot yet. It's such a hassle." You shrugged before your eyes widened in surprise at your own realization. "There's some left, I could warm it up for us. How does that sound?"

Jerry's enthusiastic nod of approval brought the two of you in your small kitchen. He tried to stay out of your way, using your fridge as an arm rest while he watched you grab a ladle and two mismatched mugs.

You stirred the spiced wine slowly, waiting for it to come to temperature while Jerry entertained you with more anecdotes.

Until he switched it up with questions that encouraged you to tell your own stories too. He sipped the wine from the mug you handed him and he listened intently to every detail about your life that you shared.

You set your beverage down to finally tackle the dishes. Before your hands met with the water running from the faucet, you were gently nudged away.

"Let me help." Jerry left you no time or space to be stubborn or to turn him down, he put on the pair of rubber gloves he saw on the counter. You both laughed at the ridiculous sight while he scrubbed the pot clean.

You poured more dish soap so he could scrape off the spices that had gotten stuck. Soon enough, Jerry was done and he removed the gloves before setting the pot on top of the fridge. You placed your hand on his arm, your thumb gently caressed the soft material of his blue polo shirt. "You know you didn't have to do all that." Keeping you company, driving you home, now helping you with these trivial tasks... "I appreciate it."

He pressed his lips together, his head dipped in acknowledgement of your sentiment. Jerry's eyes flicked from yours down to your lips and back up again. "I don't usually do that."

"What, wash dishes?" You returned with a chuckle.

"No, that I do a lot of." He admitted. All these years of being a father and yet he could not comprehend how many dirty dishes one child could leave behind. He blinked away the thoughts of a sink full of plates and glasses. "I meant... Kiss." He leaned closer to you. "I don't kiss a lady on the first date."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, your own gaze fell to his mouth. "Oh, that's too bad." His defined cupid's bow faded when he smiled at you.

"I could make an exception, y'know."

You hummed in response, locking eyes with him for a moment. You had only just met, yet it felt like you truly knew Jerry with all the talking you both did this evening. Ultimately, your friend's plan to set you up with her handsome colleague had worked. You would figure out a way to let her know at another time. You had much more pressing plans...

Jerry pressed his lips on yours. His eyes closed, his heart skipped a beat.

The kiss was tender, but it quickly lost its hesitation when you erased the remaining distance between the two of you.

He held your face in his hands to kiss you a second time.

The two of you slowly deepened the kiss, with Jerry's head tilting to the side to let your tongues dance together.

His hands fell to your shoulders and then they caressed down your body, following your curves. He guided your hands to rest on the small of his back before he placed his own on your hips.

Jerry gently pressed you against the counter. His forehead met yours while he tried to catch his breath.

Your mouth found his again and again, until he left a trail of kisses from your lips to your jawline and all the way down to your neck.

Jerry sprinkled open-mouthed kisses on your skin, as he inhaled the soft scent of your perfume. He pulled away to lock eyes with yours, searching for an ounce of hesitation or perhaps a drop of regret for the passion growing speedily between the two of you.

All he found in your beautiful eyes was a reflection of desire that shined in his own gaze. You leaned your head in his hand while he held your face again. You nodded softly.

He reached for your hand that he brought to his lips for a kiss. You watched his grin grow on his face as he leaned down. All the way down until his knees met the floor. He let out a huff of air. "I'm not as young and fresh as I used to be."

You rolled your eyes and laughed at his joke, as if he was a frail old man.

He popped the collar button of his polo open and he looked at you. The dimmed light of the kitchen made his eyes glimmer. His fingertips caressed up your legs, from your ankles to your knees. Jerry's eyebrow arched on his forehead, creating a wrinkle you so badly wanted to kiss.

You tilted your head, confused by his unspoken request.

He answered all of your questions when he started kissing his way up the inside of your thighs. His hands splayed on your skin, gently grabbing at the supple flesh.

"Wait," you caused Jerry to pull back in a quick motion. "Let me just..." You brushed all of his sudden worries away when you tried to pull your tights down. You struggled awkwardly. "Sorry."

He chuckled with you and gently pushed your hands out of the way. "Let me do it." Jerry insisted. He concluded the struggle was not worth the wait. "Do you have more than one pair?"

"Yeah, why?" You replied, stumped by his question. Then, you heard the noise of fabric ripping and your eyes widened.

"That's why." Jerry answered bluntly, tickling the now exposed skin of your thighs with his warm breath. He kissed his way to your covered core, he grunted at the sight of your red and lacy underwear. He gave you an apologetic glance before he ripped the delicate material too.

You parted your legs to give him more space.

"It feels like the mistletoe hung up at the party was a good omen, doesn't it?" He murmured. He pressed the lightest and softest kisses possible on your core while you giggled at his words. "May I?" He asked for permission another time.

"Yes please." Chills ran through you when he kept going, kissing you more and more hungrily. If what he said was true, that he did not kiss on the first date, it made this moment all the more special.

Jerry explored you gently with kisses and licks that sufficed to get you worked up.

You bucked your hips against his face, chasing more. You mewled in bliss whenever his tongue or his nose would bump against your clit.

Jerry understood that you craved more than the sweet attention he gave you, and he happily obliged. There was something about you, about the evening you unexpectedly spent together, that made his heart skip a beat. The discussions and the longing stares you shared would have made it nearly impossible to walk out of your apartment without getting a taste of you.

You gripped on the edge of the counter with your left hand, determined to stay upright although your knees were turning into jelly. Your other hand found his head and, after ruffling his hair a bit, you guided him.

Jerry moaned against you, the vibrations reverberated through your entire body. He loved the way you showed him how to make you feel good. He lapped at your essence, he tried to commit to memory the ways you liked to be pleased.

You pulled on his hair a bit, without caring much about the way your skirt swallowed him whole. You looked down to watch his legs shift as he tried to find a more stable position.

His tongue worked through your folds, circled your clit, dipped at your entrance. Jerry's hands found your thighs again so he could pull on the skin to allow him to devour you like a starved man. It had been so long, too long since he had done something of the sort. He could only wish you two would meet again. In the meantime, Jerry was desperate to make you tip over the edge.

You let out a song of moans, breathlessly chanting his name. You felt the muscles of your lower stomach tighten as the pleasure built up. You were so close...

Jerry replaced his tongue with his thumb, so he could catch his breath. The featherlight strokes on your clit made you shiver. Jerry dove back under your dress, flattening his tongue to lick over your folds and his finger too.

You let your head fall back when Jerry made you come on his tongue. Jerry's moans and yours blended into a beautiful symphony as he continued until your legs were shaking like a leaf.

He finished with a kiss on your clit, so you could feel his lips curling into a proud smile.

Both of your hands relaxed when the tidal waves of your orgasm became calm again. Rather than gripping on his hair, you ran your fingers through them. "Come here..." You said, the tone of your voice sounded shaky. Your chest heaved with each breath you took.

Jerry's head emerged from under your skirt, you chuckled at the sight. His hair looked a mess, totally dishevelled. The hair pommade he used to comb his hair over evidently could not sustain such a blissful moment.

A frown flashed on his forehead, his glistening lips formed a small pout. "What? Is everything alright?" He sounded a tad bit concerned, afraid that he did something wrong. Although, judging by the way your body reacted to him and by the moans you sung at his ear... Jerry could tell that that everything was indeed alright.

You nodded slowly while you caught your breath. "More than alright." You reached a hand to smooth his hair. Your hand caressed along his cheek until your fingertip tilted his chin up.

Jerry's gaze met yours, his hands stroked up and down your legs. You barely had time to catch a glimpse of his dimples that his head disappeared under your dress again. He left a trail of kisses on the inside of your thighs that grew gentler and gentler as he approached your core again.

"You're still trying to impress me?" You asked, before a small gasp escaped you as his mouth met your more sensitive place.

Rather than answering with words, Jerry's laughter resonated through you like the jolly music that still played on the radio. He lapped at your essence once more, inviting you to impress him with how much you could take.

[destinyc1020]

I’m really sorry that Fran is going through this and I hope that they built a safe environment for her to rehearse and feel protected and loved because she should 🤍

What I’m not getting tho is and please correct me if I’m wrong but did any of her cast-mates post anything about this situation on social media ? I genuinely don’t get why only Tom is getting the hate (I know he’s the most famous out of them) but relationship wise they are all her colleagues and they all share a stage together. Heck some of them are black too so I know for a fact they can put themselves in her shoes and most definitely faced the same issue in their life. I’m quite sure they all said something to her privately and are showing her all the love. I think this was agreed upon that only the production company would release a public statement ?

And lastly I do agree that Tom posting anything now will just worsen the situation. Sorry I ranted on you 😭

Thanks Anon for your input and thoughts on this issue. I appreciate your views.

What I’m not getting tho is and please correct me if I’m wrong but did any of her cast-mates post anything about this situation on social media ?

I'm honestly not sure, because I've been away this weekend, and I've been trying to ignore the negativity online for the past couple of weeks since she was cast tbh. 😔

I'm sure the entire cast however is being supportive. I can't imagine that they aren't.

I genuinely don’t get why only Tom is getting the hate (I know he’s the most famous out of them) but relationship wise they are all her colleagues and they all share a stage together.

Do you remember this quote from the OG Spiderman movies lol? 😅

When someone has great "power" (or, in this case, large amounts of fame and/or privilege), most people tend to expect MORE from that individual. Maybe it's not "fair", but that's usually the case.

Tom is in a position of great fame and privilege, so some (the less privileged) might feel like he should have more of an obligation to stand up for his co-star and protect her since she's most likely even receiving this amount of scrutiny and attention because Tom is in the lead role in this play. Tom also has a HUGE social media following, so him saying something would make more traction than just a producer saying something. Just my guess? 🤷🏾‍♀️

And btw.... we as black people constantly stick up for each other all the time! But we're usually the victims of this type of racist hate.

Victims can only do but so much. It's actually better if those in "power" can speak out about this to their own people and shame them by showing them that this isn't right. To me, that would make more of an impact (imo), but again, you can't force people to speak out on things.

[bisexual-in-every-gender]

6: Age you get mistaken for?

7: Have tattoos?

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately

38: My childhood career choice

Thanks, bestie! 🥰

6: I get mistaken for a teenage boy by most strangers on the street (a woman the other day guessed 13), by colleagues I'm often mistaken to be a lot older than what I am because I'm so "mature". 45 is what most people go for.

7: Do I ever! I got 8, planning about 10 more. The ones I have are

1) a Star Trek Science Officer badge over my heart

2) the outline of Gibraltar where my wife and I got married with our wedding date inside on the inside of my left arm

3) Jesus hugging someone and "Trust in God" in all the five languages I speak on my left shoulder

4) the quote "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future" in Elvish on the inside of my right arm

5) Nick Nelson from Heartstopper saying "I'm Bi, Actually. And So What?" with the Bi Flag behind him

6) the words "In my thoughts, I'm always with you" in my grandma's handwriting (she passed away earlier this year) on my left wrist

7) a pug in a vampire costume

8) a mini me hugging a Chestburster

28: So, there's many people at work I really, really dislike. But my older sister is still taking the cake. Am I upset we were never able to have a proper sibling relationship and I missed out on a sister? Yes. I wish we got on. But do I actually like her? No. I'm done with mourning a sister I never had by sidling up to her. She emotionally abused me, threatened me, set fire to my stuffed animals, turned her friends against me, called me unspeakable names etc. Not to mention she's a transphobic, homophobic, xenophobic cunt.

29: Apart from telling white lies to not hurt their feelings, I lied to a friend at age 11 to impress them. I said I played baseball. Stupid lie to tell but I was a child desperately trying to be cool.

43: My wife. And Prince.

38: I always wanted to be a writer, but I also aspired to be a clown in a circus

[futurequibblerjournalist]

It's implied that you see Seabunny happening before Hari's canon so is Starrynight the same? Or is it while they're teaching? Idk it's so cute to me lol

Just,,

Night patrols together and quick kisses goodnight,, him going up to her room for an ingredient or something,, him inviting her to the dungeon to warm up by the fire in winter,, urgh the breakup when he's headmaster,,,,

You've made me like,, wholesome feral about them teehee thank you

Generally speaking to me they also happen before the whole golden trio era but also,, HARI??? 👀 Yes,, that is how we spell his name on this blog jvnfjbngjbg

But yeah,, I think they get together in their later years,, maybe sixth or seventh because Aurora really wants to "feel normal" and having a relationship is what everyone else is doing. And she's not necessarily deeply in love with Severus before they get together but she's conformable with him and the more time they spend together the more she realises that she actually really appreciates him and enjoys spending time with him because he's like,, the sole person she's experienced so far that she doesn't need to mask for. To me they're like,, this quote

In an ideal world or an au or something I could see them lasting for longer but with everything that happens during the first war they just kinda break apart. Severus is going through everything with Lily, becoming a spy, suddenly working at a school where he has to teach kids not much younger than him (some of which has witnessed the bullying he went through during his own time at school) and all that stuff and Aurora's got her own shit with realising Wilhelm is a Death Eater who's never really cared for her and instead has spent the past many years only being around her because she was one big joke to her (and despite all this he's now dead and she can't confront him about it and she's mourning him in multiple ways) and it's just a lot for them both.

I love the idea of them doing night patrols, stealing quick kisses, and literally everything on that list. Them going up to the Astronomy tower together to "chase away students who aren't supposed to be there" but really they end up sharing a quick kiss and looking at the stars together instead. Urgh how I wish it could be like this. I sadly think Severus isolates himself a tonne when he starts working at Hogwarts and thus when they become colleagues. He refuses human connection, even though part of him wants it and seeing Aurora is honestly just a reminder of what could have been because she would have given him any kind of connection he wanted (she so desperately craves it herself and I think they've got a special connection whether in a platonic or romantic way).

I need to make up some au where they actually get to be happy together cause even tho this was definitely one of those ships that kinda get made as like a,, we need something for a plot sorta thing I do actually kinda love them now and I think they're sweet. All of my ships are so tragic in canon,, like I know that's how it works with canon aus cause all these motherfuckers are sad but ahhhh,, starrynight being a thing just makes it so much worse when you consider that other than maybe Edmund Aurora is the only one from Snape's gang (Severus, Edmund, Bruce, Wilhelm, Igor, Charity and Aurora) that survives and she just has to move on without her friends and ahhhhhhh

I will say I think despite everything Severus deals with and goes through Aurora sees him as someone good. I can't explain it and she'd probably doubt herself because of everything that happened with Wilhelm but she would struggle with seeing him as someone genuinely bad I think

[marianacifuentes08]

AT THE OF THE DAY WHAT IS MY PERSONAL BRAND? MY IDENTITY?

Uff, This journey has been fulled of challenges,emotions, discovers/findings and learnings. At the beginning, my goal was being able to create a strong personal brand which people can remember me for something specific.

THAT'S A WRAP!!! that's it, I finished the semester and I am happy to say that this time, I was able to do it (i know what i mean). The day I was selecting what assignments I was going to see, especially the electives, I had no idea what I wanted, but as soon as I read the description of this assignment I was pretty interested in taking it, I knew that I wanted to boost my confidence(actually gain) and enhance my skills. I remember that the description said that you were going to be able to communicate in the most effective way and I wanted to do that.

I consider that I learnt how to do it in a best way, It helps me to be aware that I ALREADY have a personal brand, but I had no idea about it. I enjoyed the tasks, the activities, the fact that we had to create a blog and an e-book just for us. it was so amazing and interesting and the class as well, because the mood of the teacher and her personality was so good that you could feel comfortable and interested in the class. Besides, it allowed me to know new people which was something amazing. I think it might be helpful in a future, as the teacher said "you don't know, maybe the person who you talked, or greet here might be your colleague or your boss or he/she might help you to find a job" the NETWORKING is the key!.

Having said that, I wanted to mention that the way you dress up, you talk, you look at someone, you write an email, you write a blog, a message, if you smile or not, what you post on social media, all of that matter. EVERYHTING speaks and it is about you, it is who you are.

On the other hand, finding the purpose in this life is definitely so hard and fight for your dreams is even more difficult but despite that; you have to FIND your purpose, your IKIGAI, because if you don't figure it out, you won't be able to find the right path.

As a conclusion, I would like to thank the teacher because her optimism, mood and for sharing her knowledge with us. I really liked the class, The way that we were able to sparked our creativity and be free in doing the tasks was something that i really liked.

To close this I would like to add a song and a quote as ever :)

THANK YOU

[silverjetsystm]

𝟷. , 𝟼. , 𝟽. , 𝟿.

Please note that most of this was written on my phone while riding shotgun across The Big Empty. Typos, words that don't make sense, etc. will happen. Also for those who are not @lalamoon, this is Kit and I's universe.

This got out of hand so I put a read more.

CW/TW for drug and alcohol addiction at the very end under read more.

Headcanons Meme | Accepting!

Answering: Sexuality, Marriage, Children, Drugs.

One. Sexuality: They're all bi.

Marc: Got some real internalized biphobia. Pre-Layla, men were mostly because he was Around Lots of Men. He had crushes but there wasn't a lot of Romance. And he's as usual oblivious to people crushing on him. Lots of fucking tho.

Steven: Likes men and women. He kinda treats them both the same. Gentle, romantic, but he's also so focused on his inner world, he misses cues.

Jake: He's very good at reading people. He loves to hang out with people. Dance. Enjoy the moment, whether it's platonic or something different. Sex is enjoyable to him, though his libido adapts to whatever scale his partner is on.

Six. Marriage: WIFE WIFE WIFE WIFE WI-

Marc and Jake did sleep around a lot in the Pre-Layla days. Port in any storm. Steven did have a few days and makeout sessions. a former girlfriend sabatoged him from anything more. So Layla was Steven's first (and Marc was Layla's).

If we have to generalize...

Marc took a long time to say "I love you." He still uses it sparingly. One can see his love through his hands clenched in protection, laced with Layla's, or in building.

Steven says it a lot. Either the three words in English, Arabic, French. Or in their favorite quotes.

Jake will use one bazillion terms of endearment, clever hand, and gift giving.

Layla and the System's marriage is incredibly strong. They've had great struggles and will continue to face it together. Whether or not Marc feels like they can. It's a difficult thing, loving someone who does not see the good in himself. To Marc, Steven and Jake are the good parts of him. At several points, he feels like he should disappear and nothing would be lost.

Of course, that's not true. Layla and Marc were together first. She's stuck with him through thick and thin. They navigate white people bs, antisemitism, racism, Khonshu's manipulations, and Marc's own mistakes. Yknow, being part of the mercenary group responsible for killing Layla's father and his colleagues. Marc did try to save them. Yet, to Marc, it's like he pulled the trigger himself.

Steven's memory is incredibly dicey. When his narrative is thrown off by waves of grief and trauma, his recent memories are tossed out. It's not a deliberate thing. He is distraught every time that he can forget the best parts of his life (such as Layla when Marc's father passed). Like, of course his mother is alive, of course his father is alive. They're both very busy people.

Layla appreciates the interests Steven is interested in and vis versa. They have in-depth, romantic conversations about their favorite poets, artists, and yknow. Archeology. He loves spending time with her. Getting fancy and going out on the town. Staying in and enjoying each other's company. While people making comments about him aren't on his radar (being a vegan, for example), Layla definitely picks up on that and reads em for filth.

Our favorite legend Jake doesn't need being called in (Marc) or particulars (Steven). He's everyone's best guy. Friendly, charming, flexible. He's the one Layla can lean on, speak her mind to.

The System and Layla open the Midnight Mission together. It's the biggest sign of their love and lifetime project. They support their community by fist and by mutual aid.

Uh. Anyway.

Seven. Children:

The System and Layla have 2 older kids that are not of their blood.

Unlike 616, the System and Layla remain together, married, and raise their Beam. Like everything else, they struggle with conceiving. (Thanks Khonshu). Layla had an extremely difficult pregnancy. Marc was focused, trying to keep her and the baby alive. So!

Marc fucking struggles with baby Beam. He goes dormant. Steven and Jake take to fatherhood well. Steven is an educator and is very focused on Beam's milestones and health. Jake is used to helping out with cousins and Gena's boys.

Once Marc gets his head out of his head, he does enjoy fatherhood. Beyond grateful he has a wife and daughter. He loves spending time with Beam. Usually he's quiet.

As in the rest of their lives, Layla and the system are a team!

Nine. Drugs.

Steven and Jake do not have Substance Use Disorder. Both (and Marc) enjoy cigarettes, cannabis, and alcohol in social situations. Cannabis does help with some of their physical and mental health.

Marc does have SUD from using alcohol, Vicodin, and oxycodone to self-medicate chronic pain and trauma (losing Layla to The Snap is the straw that broke the camel's back). Khonshu does heal the body and handle the physical effects. But it does take Marc a long time to actually get treatment from not the bird god.

[linasofia]

Bunnelê

Armitage Summer Splash #12

Trope: Oblivious of feelings

Quote: “How dare you!”

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader x Raymond de Merville (Modern AU)

Words: 2,8K

Warnings: 18+

@lathalea @legolasbadass I don’t know if I should thank you or blame you right now. 😈

It all happens so quickly. The shock wave from the explosion throws me backwards and I fall helplessly to the ground. My back takes most of the impact but I can't stop my head from mercilessly hitting the ground. I gasp for air as my lungs press hard against my ribs. Black smoke fills the air and I cough as I try to breathe. With an increasing feeling of surrealness, I stare at the burning car beside me. I can hear shouting from the distance growing louder and more frightening, but my body feels heavy and refuses to move. The sharp sound of sirens cut through the air. Iron shoes on four-legged beasts, galloping on wet asphalt and snorting heavily. Commanding voices in the air, demanding full obedience. I can’t keep my eyes open and the pulsating feeling at my temples slowly fades away together with my consciousness.

Someone is calling my name. A dark, rich voice finds its way through the massive wall of shouting and noises around me and just hearing the familiar sound calms me a little. It’s a voice that I usually hear outside my café, spoken in a much softer tone than the roar that suddenly erupts from his chest as he turns to command his partner. When I open my eyes, it takes a while for my eyes to adjust, but then I see him. At first, I do not recognize him due to the full riot gear he wears, including a helmet with a thick visor and some sort of extra vest for protection that makes his chest look even broader than usual. He shields me from everything else when he leans over me, blocking the sun that creates a halo around his helmet. His gloved hand rests lightly on my forehead and when he speaks my name again, I answer with his: ”Thorin.”

”I’m here. You need to go to the hospital. You’re bleeding.”

I try to sit up but he gently holds me down. ”Stay down, Raymond is getting an ambulance for you. They will decide how to move you. I don’t want to make your injury worse by making unqualified decisions. For now, you’re safe just where you are.”

”I’m sure it's fine, Thorin.” I try to smile but I feel my dry lips crack as I move them. His concern for me makes me all warm inside. Over the last months, Thorin and Raymond have been regular visitors at my café, when on duty. On warm days I have given both riders and horses water to drink and on colder days they always buy coffee. They seem inseparable and in a way, I envy the strong bond they must have, both to each other and to their horses. To put your own life in danger, to help others in need, surely it must form their character and bring out their greatest sides. My temple is hurting and Thorin adds pressure to it.

When I hear the echoing noise of hooves against the asphalt again, I slowly turn my face towards the sound. I see the big black stallion, Hades, standing just a few meters away from me. In his saddle, as always, sits Thorin’s partner, Raymond. From this distance and with his visor down, I can’t really tell it’s him, but I would always recognize Hades, even now in riot gear, just like the officer on his back.

Flashing blue lights suddenly reflect in Thorin’s visor and soon a medical team surrounds me. Thorin hovers by my side but not until one of the angels from the ambulance team says, in a sharp tone, that they have the situation under control, does he mount his horse Electra again. The chestnut mare shakes her head impatiently and it almost looks like she tries to tell her master what a jerk he is. The evening is far from over and they are needed elsewhere, can’t he see that? The last thing I see before the ambulance door closes is the back of two officers riding to join their colleagues.

I don’t like sleeping at the hospital. Thankfully I have very little experience of it, but a broken arm from a riding accident as a young girl still awakes some memories as I stare at the white sterile ceiling. I’m very grateful that I got my own room, and when the doctor told me that he wanted to keep me overnight for monitoring, I accepted. I needed a couple of stitches and I suffered from a concussion. It makes me dizzy and at times I feel really sick. When sleep finally claims my body, I welcome it with open arms, feeling utterly exhausted.

The room is dark, only illuminated by large chandeliers and a few lanterns that cast flickering shadows on the walls. No windows or doors let the light inside but the air still feels pleasant. In the middle of the room stands a bed, robust with a wooden frame. At the foot of the bed stand two men, wearing nothing but their own gloriously tanned skin. They are about the same height, broad shoulders, well-sculptured bodies and the only difference between them is the amount of hair on their chests. One of them has been blessed with more and when he shifts, the light reveals the grey strands gracing his dark chest hair. The other man is a little less hairy but his hair creates the most inviting trail over his stomach. The soft enormous bed, neatly made with finest Egyptian cotton sheets, moves as the two men slowly crawl from the opposite corners towards me like predators, but I don’t feel like I’m in any danger. I still don’t see their faces but somehow I already know.

With a hammering heart I wait for them in bed, silently lying on my back. When I feel their warm bodies against mine, I briefly close my eyes and take a deep breath. One of them gently pulls at my shoulder so I come to rest on the side and when I open my eyes again, I meet Thorin’s burning gaze. He gently strokes my cheek and when he speaks, his usual commanding and deep voice is now raspy and it fills my body with irresistible need. Behind me, I feel the other man position himself close to me, place his hand on my waist and squeeze the soft flesh. When he greets me, I smile to myself. Raymond’s voice, smooth as velvet but dark as the sea, is filled with lust, matching my own desire that is rapidly building in my body.

Thorin leans in and covers my lips with his before I can even think of a proper response to them. Our kiss starts as a tender one, but soon his hunger takes over and his tongue slips between my lips. The sensual dance he leads me into is filled with emotions and not only the passionate and raw kind. Raymond’s hand doesn’t stay on my waist for long, and his hands glide over my skin as if he tried to map my body, fueling my desire. He nibbles at my shoulder and when Thorin suddenly breaks the kiss, I feel Raymond’s teeth scrape against my skin. His beard is soft and I find it more than arousing when he drags his jaw along my shoulder. I whimper as his grip on me tightens. With a swift move Raymond rolls me over to face him and the darkness in his eyes makes me gasp. He doesn’t follow Thorin’s gentle start, instead he greedily rolls his tongue against mine and steals my breath away. I feel Thorin peppering my neck with wet kisses, his short stubble is rough on my skin, while his hand caresses my hip and moves along my thigh. I burn under his touch as he gently lifts my leg and places it over Raymond’s thigh. Then, as Raymond continues to kiss me deeply, I feel Thorin advance to explore the sensitive parts between my thighs. When his fingers trace my soft and slick skin and find my little bundle of nerves, I moan into Raymond’s mouth, making both men even more eager. With one hand Raymond catches my wrist and pulls it over my head. His other hand seeks the softness of my breast, teasing me by running his fingers around its outer lines and over my ribs, making me shiver under his touch. My soft plea for more is silenced by Thorin who slips one of his thick fingers between my folds. I hear him groan appreciatively against my neck as he works his fingers to pleasure me.

As soon as my breathing becomes uneven, Thorin intensifies his efforts and I pant his name while I feel the orgasm building in my core. He answers me with a moan as I clench around his fingers and the world around me temporarily disappears as I float in the warm stream of lust washing over me. Thorin slowly withdraws his fingers, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness. My body aches for him, for both of them, for more of everything they might offer. Raymond releases my arm and I roll over to face Thorin.

“I need you,” I whisper, my voice still needy and unsteady. Thorin’s azure eyes are burning and without a word he grabs my leg, lifts it so he can position himself in the best possible way and with his gaze fixed on mine, he enters me. Even if he is slow and gentle, I struggle with his size. Raymond’s raspy “Good girl” as Thorin reaches the bottom, buried deep inside me, sends a wave of heat through my body and I grip Thorin’s upper arm tightly. His muscles are firm, like the strong neck of his loyal horse and while Thorin gives me time to adjust to him, Raymond trails my spine up and down with his long fingers. It helps me relax my body and shortly after Thorin finally rocks his hips against mine, causing a throaty moan to escape my mouth.

The steady rhythm Thorin sets soon makes me see stars. I can tell he likes to watch me by the way he follows every shift in my facial expressions closely. While Thorin is more focused on my physical pleasure, Raymond seems determined to drive me crazy with his words alone. The way he speaks his praises is like pouring fuel on an open fire. Teasingly, he circles the roundness of my bum with his hands, gently squeezing my flesh and spreading my cheeks, exposing the split to him. When he presses a finger against me I can’t stop my body from arching against him. His voice drops to a low register that must have been made for female pleasures only. With a groan he asks for my consent and when I give it, he creates the most heavenly feeling with his long finger. He mirrors Thorin’s pace and it fills me with a desire stronger than the gravity of the earth. I don’t recognize my own voice when I beg him for more.

Raymond puts his hand on my leg, rasps my name and with a resolute move he adjusts my position to his advantage. His grip is firm, just enough to let me know how he wants me and in that moment Thorin slows down, allowing Raymond to put the bulky top of his member over my rear entrance. I’m being pulled towards the inevitable and all I manage is to cry out my desperation for them.

My own cry wakes me from my dream but I silence as soon as the morning light seeping from the small gap between the blinds hits me right in the eyes. Someone is speaking my name from a distance but I don’t understand why. I slam my arm against the bars on the hospital bed as I try to move away from the merciless light.

”Please be careful so you don’t hurt yourself.” That voice again, so dark and alluring. I meet the cerulean eyes of the man standing beside the bed. He looks strangely familiar. The shape and color of his eyes, the patrician nose and his dark beard. I let out a small gasp of disbelief. He resembles both Thorin and Raymond so much, they could easily be brothers. I blink a few times. Is this a trick of my damaged brain? The man is dressed in a shirt with the collar open and over that he wears a white coat. I glance at the name tag and then back at Dr White’s face.

”How do you feel? You were tossing in your bed and due to your injury, the nurse got worried. It’s not unusual to suffer from nightmares.”

”I’m ok.” I feel heat spread over my cheeks at the thought of Dr White hearing my cries. I can’t deal with the embarrassment but I try to convince myself that he seems to interpret it as something totally different. Dr White keeps asking a few more questions but I’m too tired and delusional to answer them properly. He leaves me after a while and I close my eyes as he shuts the door. I need to rest. And I feel nauseous.

A week later I’m back at the café, serving guests and making sandwiches as usual. The street still bears traces of the tumult that escalated into a riot after the big game last week. The visiting team’s supporters decided to take out their anger over their loss in the city center. The glass is swept away, some broken windows have already been replaced and even the car that exploded next to me is gone. Only the marks it left on the asphalt tell the story of the violence that occurred.

Just after lunch hour, when things are slowing down again, I hear the sound of hooves coming from outside. The door is wide open and the city noise mixes with the occasional sounds coming from the espresso machine. My heart picks up speed. I always enjoy meeting the city’s finest patrolling police officers, but today I feel more nervous than before. As usual I can’t resist the temptation so I walk over to the door and greet them.

”How do you feel, bunnelê?” Raymond asks, his French accent covering his words like mist covers the meadow on a crispy summer morning.

”How dare you?” Thorin snears at him. ”How dare you call her that? You have no right!” I can hear the anger in his voice and I wonder what Raymond’s words really mean.

”Since you don’t have the courage to use it, I might as well do it.” Raymond grins at him and Thorin shoots him an icy stare that is impossible to miss. I can almost see his blood boiling in his veins.

”I feel ok now. Still tired but nothing else. Thank you both for helping me.” I quickly answer with a grateful smile.

”Should you not rest longer? I can’t imagine the doctor's approval of you already working.” Thorin sounds concerned, the anger in his voice is gone and he looks intensely at me.

”I don’t have time to rest anymore. I can’t keep the café closed for so long. It’s not good for business. And Sarah can’t help me more than she already does.”

Raymond shakes his head. ”You’re not very obedient, are you?” Something in the way he says the word obedient brings back memories from my dream, and I blush. I can’t look either of them in the eyes without exposing myself, so instead, I turn my attention to Hades and Electra.

”Shall I get the bucket for them? They look warm.”

”I’m sure they are. Please, if it’s not too much trouble.” Thorin answers and gives Electra a tender stroke over her neck. Her chestnut coat shines like a ruby in the sun. I nod and go back inside to fill the bucket with water. In the kitchen, while the water splutters down in the bucket, I think of Thorin’s reaction to Raymond’s foreign word. It didn’t sound French. Over the last weeks I have noticed a small change in Thorin. He seems to be increasingly concerned for my well-being and while Raymond is more direct and has a habit of speaking without a filter between his mouth and brain, Thorin is getting more and more thoughtful and attentive to my reaction. It confuses me greatly but also feels very right.

When the bucket is finally filled, I carry it outside. The street is empty, my four-legged guests have disappeared together with their riders and I can’t help feeling a sting of disappointment in my heart. I put the bucket down and go back inside to serve a new guest. With their kind of job, you never know what to expect. But I have a feeling they will return later. The thought makes me warm and I shine together with the sun as I smile at the young woman on the other side of the counter. Today is a very good day.

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Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @laurfilijames @enchantzz @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @s0ftd3m0n @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra

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[221bshrlocked]

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t help it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Got you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

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[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

[imkylotrash]

Common Sense

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: Hardin finds out that Tessa cheated on him with Trevor, resulting in him trying to get close to the reader to spite Tessa, but instead he slowly begins falling for her however the reader finds out about his scheme. Anonymous

A/N For this one Hardin never did the bet with Tessa.

“Can you please focus, Hardin? I really need a good grade for this paper.” He’s staring at his phone once again not paying any attention to your computer screen and the assignment. 

“Sorry,” he says finally putting his phone away. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask deciding the paper can wait for another minute. He looks like he’s about to cry which doesn’t really happen very often for him. It almost scares you seeing him vulnerable as opposed to his usual cocky self.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he murmurs but the next day at school the rumour has already spread so it turns out he doesn’t get much of a choice. His darling Tessa has cheated on him with her work colleague Trevor Matthews. You feel horrible for Hardin having to deal with this after everything he went through to get Tessa to like him in the first place. You don’t see him until lunch when he sits down next to you in the cafeteria. 

“I guess you heard,” he says looking around at the people trying to get a good look of the bad Hardin and his broken heart. You flip someone off which seems to get people to at least be more discreet. 

“I’m sorry, Hardin. I can’t believe she did that to you.” For a second, you contemplate reaching over and grabbing his hand as a show of support but you don’t want to cross his limits. 

“Do you want to get out of here? I really can’t stand people looking at me anymore,” he says focusing solely on your face. At your hesitation he adds: “Please.” Well, he might as well break your heart too. He just looks so sad. 

“If we dedicate one hour at some point today to finish the paper, I’m all yours.” A blush creeps onto your cheeks when you realise how it sounds but Hardin just smiles and grabs your hand to drag you out of the cafeteria. You notice Tessa staring with big eyes but you don’t feel guilty. She’s the one in the wrong. 

“So where do you want to go?” you ask when you reach his car. 

“Anywhere and nowhere. How about we just drive?” A drive sounds good to you. Over the next couple of weeks, you take a lot of drives just to talk. It turns out, Hardin is both funny and surprisingly deep. He knows more literature than you and can quote them casually. An ability you very much envy. You’ve even started convincing yourself that just maybe you might stand a chance with him. That is until you run into Tessa between classes.

“Tell me, Y/N. Do you want him for the rest of the week before I take him back or should I just do it now?” You furrow your brows in confusion. 

“What are you even talking about, Tessa?” You feel like your head might split into two and Tessa is adding to your migraine.

“What? You didn’t think he was actually in to you? He just wanted to get back at me.” She’s saying words but they don’t make sense to you. Hardin wouldn’t do that. Not to you. 

“You don’t believe me?” She starts reading from her phone: “Tell me you want me back and I’ll drop her. This thing is getting tiresome anyway.”  He sent that a week ago. For a week he’s been planning to dump you and it breaks your spirit. He doesn’t want you. How could you ever be stupid enough to think you might actually stand a chance? 

“Move,” you say and she steps aside laughing as she does so. Your hands are shaking when you get to your car but you refuse to cry. Not at school for everyone to see. Instead you get in your car and drive straight to the forest. You need quiet and you need a place with no people around. For the entire car ride you manage to keep the tears at bay but the second you park the car, they flow freely. It’s ugly and messy but you can’t hold it back anymore. How could he do this to you? It takes you four hours to get it all out before you drive home. You feel empty and spent. For once, your parents let you pass without a million questions about your days. Perhaps they see it on your face. Whatever the reason, you’re forever thankful for being able to just run upstairs and hide under your duvet. The second wave of tears hits you harder than the first. Every time you think, you’ve run out of tears to cry, they just keep falling. At some point, you fall asleep. You don’t wake until 2AM when you hear something hit your window. Confused you stumble over to your window just in time to see a small pebble hit your window. 

“Y/N!” someone whisper-yells from the garden. You don’t want to admit it but you know that voice. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask once you’ve opened the window. 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Can’t this wait until the morning?” You have no intention of talking to him tomorrow or any other day but you just really want him to leave now. Too much has happened today for you to have room for this too. 

“I heard what Tessa said. Please come down.” Everything in you screams to close the window and go back to bed but you have a feeling he’s not going to give up. You sneak down the stairs and into the backyard. 

“Well?” you ask crossing your arms. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Sorry you did it or sorry you got caught?” He opens his mouth and then closes it again. This happens a few times before he’s able to answer. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to tell you. But there’s so much more to the story than what Tessa said.” 

“Then talk.” He seems surprised that you so willingly agreed to hear his side and frankly, you’re surprised yourself. But there’s a small part of you that hopes he just might have an explanation that will make all of this go away. 

“Tessa cheated on me. And I felt like shit. I was desperate to get her back and there you were. I wanted to use you to make her jealous. I was hoping she might want me back if she saw me with someone else.” 

“I already know that part, Hardin. It wasn’t that hard to figure out from the text.” You’re about to turn around and go back inside when he grabs your arm to keep you from leaving. You hate how your body responds to his touch even now after everything he’s done to you. 

“But the part you don’t know is that I got to know you. The sweet girl who cares about the environment and cries when she sees videos of puppies. And I will never understand how you can drink coffee with that much sugar in or why you care so much about being a mathlete but I love that you do. I really do. What I’m trying to say is that I really like you.” I really like you. Four words spinning around in your head making you dizzy. 

“I need to sit down,” you say. Not caring about getting wet or dirty, you sit down right then and there on the grass. I really like you. 

“How do I know this isn’t just part of the scheme?” You don’t trust him and for good reason. Your whole friendship has been based on a lie.

“If you give me a chance, I promise I will prove to you that this is the truth. I may have gone into this for entirely wrong reasons, but I fell for you harder than I thought possible.” 

“If you don’t give him a chance, I will.” 

“Mom?” You quickly stand up almost tripping in the process. 

“Honey, I don’t know what that boy did to you, but he’s throwing pebbles at your window and waiting for you to make it right. I’d say he’s earned a second chance.” She comes over to look Hardin over before looking at you. 

“I like him. Even if he has the worst aim in the world.” You can’t help but laugh. For some reason, it makes everything better that your mom is saying go for it. You’ve always been so close with her and she’s never ever given you bad advice. 

“I expect you back in bed in 5 minutes. It’s a school night.” With that she leaves the two of you alone. For a moment none of you speak. 

“You are on a trial run for now. One mistake and you’re out.” Suddenly, his lips are on yours leaving you in complete shock. 

“I had to do that. Our five minutes are almost up.” He doesn’t even look apologetic and you hate how much you liked that kiss. You both know he’s forgiven. 

“How much time would you say we have left?” you ask looking back at the house to make sure your mom isn’t watching. 

“A minute, I’d say.” 

“Then let’s make the most of it,” you whisper leaning in again.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Hey love 🌸 I was wondering if you could write a story which would occur after Jack's potential death where Riley decides to get Kovac by herself using her hacking skills with no backup? On the Macriley front, Mac would certainly be pissed that she goes by her own and that he could potentially lost yet again a member of his family and Riley might have the exact same thought process to not include him. Though getting K doesn't change the guilt that Jack wouldn't have had to die if he had had help

So this isn’t really what you asked for, mainly because I’m too lazy to do a whole episode rewrite. It’s the same feelings but reformatted as more post- 5x05 angst. I think you’ll like it though. Fair warning: this one hurts way more than the previous 5x05 angst from Riley’s POV. 

*****

Mac has never been afraid of Riley before. 

He’s seen her angry and upset before, but the rage-filled woman he’d stopped from killing Vitez with her bare hands is someone he’s never seen before. 

The frightening part is that Riley isn’t a hot-headed person. In work mode, she’s cold and calculating, and for her to go after Vitez like that...something inside her snapped. 

Every time he looks at her now, Mac remembers holding Riley back, fingers digging sharply into her waist until she stopped fighting him. He sees the fury radiating off Riley’s body like heat waves off asphalt—sees the way she clings to it, finds purpose in it, letting it consume her so there’s no room for guilt or grief. 

Mac knows the feeling all too well. And he also knows there will be a very loud thud when she finally comes crashing back down. 

But he also knows that the woman is like a loaded gun, safety off and itching to hit something. 

Which is why he worries when Matty calls them in for an op and Riley isn’t there. She’s at Vitez’s trial, Matty informs them, but that doesn’t make Mac feel any better. This new Riley is obsessively vengeful, and if someone doesn’t reel her back in soon, Mac is afraid Riley might do something she can’t come back from.

After the op, Mac drives to Riley’s apartment. Upon arrival, his ears are assaulted by Riley’s upstairs neighbor blasting Macklemore’s greatest hits. Mac hears the lyrics clear as day, even though both his truck windows and the apartment windows are closed. The music is just that loud. Riley really shouldn’t have moved out of Mac’s house, not if this was her best option. 

The GTO is missing. Riley should be back from the trial by now, but Mac has a sneaking suspicion where she went. 

The drive to Jack’s apartment seems to take forever. The brick building sits in an older neighborhood, one of few affordable ones with trees planted along the sidewalks—a luxury in LA. Sure enough, the GTO is parked on the curb, not far from the fire escape that connects to Jack’s living room. Mac looks up and sees a familiar body perched on the stairs. 

He finds Riley sitting on the fire escape, soaking in the last rays of sunlight. Her eyes are closed, and her head rests against the brick wall. Mac doesn’t say anything as he sits beside her on the narrow metal stairs, their hips and thighs just touching. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he hug Riley? Hold her hand? Leave her alone? She’s not a super touchy person. Mac decides on the latter, picking at his fingernails while his gaze drifts west to study the sunset. 

Several minutes pass before Riley speaks. “Hey,” she offers. Her voice is low and scratchy, like she’s been crying. 

“Hey,” Mac repeats. “How long have you been here?” 

Riley shifts beside him, sitting up. “I don’t know. A while.” 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come here, is it?” 

A sigh. “No, it’s not.” Mac figures as much. Aside from the constant clamor of the city, Jack’s apartment is relatively quiet. It’s not in the greatest neighborhood, but it’s safe enough for Riley to sit alone and think. Or not think. Whatever she feels like doing. 

Riley rests her head on Mac’s shoulder, and a wave of protectiveness floods his system. It’s new, this need to watch her back more than the others’. It came on so gradually that Mac doesn’t know when it started or what triggered it, only that he feels it all the time now. Especially after Jack’s…

He avoids examining the feeling too closely. 

Without warning, Riley says, “If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve killed her.” 

Knowing exactly who she’s talking about, Mac glances down at Riley in surprise. He knows it's true—thought so himself—but hearing it come out of her mouth makes his stomach turn. The last, and only, time Riley killed someone...it took her months to piece herself back together afterward. And that death was in self-defense. 

This one would’ve been murder. Intentional and vindictive. 

Mac isn’t sure Riley could come back from that, at least not as herself. No, the woman who would emerge from that would be a total stranger inside his best friend’s body. Mac suppresses a shiver. 

“I know,” he says. 

“Thank you for stopping me.” Riley’s voice is quiet. So, so quiet. 

“You would’ve done the same for me.” Gingerly, Mac wraps his arm around Riley’s shoulders, ready to let go at the first sign of her discomfort. When she doesn’t react, he relaxes and holds her more surely. 

The sky is painted in vibrant oranges and reds, fading into deep blue overhead. Subtle strokes of pink outline the scattered clouds hanging above the horizon. Out of all the sunsets Mac has seen, all over the world, nothing quite compares to the ones here at home. He wishes Jack was here to see it. 

Mac spends far too long debating whether to bring it up before asking, “Why did you go to the trial?” Agents, especially secret ones, don’t go to trials, mostly to keep their identities safe. Publicly tying oneself to a case is never a good idea, for more reasons that Mac can begin to name. 

“I swore I’d be there every step of the way. I meant it.” Mac tries not to bristle at the snarling, defensive edge to Riley’s tone. “Eventually, she’ll make a mistake, and I will be there when she does. And then I’m going to rip out her entire organization from the roots up.” 

Fear wraps its ugly hand around Mac’s heart. Until every single person associated with Kovac is behind bars, there will be a target on Riley’s back, and Riley will have put it there herself. Losing one person to Kovac is more than enough; Mac refuses to lose Riley too. 

“How can I help you?” 

Riley looks up, eyes wide like she was expecting him to try to talk her out of it, not offer to help. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And miss out on all the fun?” Mac almost smiles as he quotes her. Almost. 

She sits up. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m going to hack Interpol first, to see which of her colleagues might also be dirty. So unless you secretly picked up hacking…” 

Mac huffs. “Sorry, I only hack hardware.” He expected some insane, crackhead plan, not something so…reasonable. Maybe Riley isn’t as off-the-rails as he thought. 

But only maybe. 

A seagull perches on the railing below them, honking and squawking for seemingly no reason at all. Gulls are just like that. It glares at Mac, pinning him to his spot with a beady yellow eye, challenging Mac to shoo it away. 

Go find some tourists to harass, Mac wants to snark at it. Leave us alone. 

The seagull cocks its head, as if to say, I know something you don’t. 

Mac narrows his eyes. I bet you do. 

He swears the seagull shrugs before taking off, flying low over the GTO before sailing over rooftops on its way back to the ocean. It passes a billboard advertising a new blockbuster spy thriller, the product of millions of dollars and Hollywood plot recycling. Mac’s seen the trailer. The movie is about a soldier who comes home and joins the CIA in a quest for retribution after his best friend comes home in a box. Usually Mac likes watching spy movies—mostly to make fun of them—but this one hits a little too close to home. 

It takes a monumental effort to tear his gaze away. 

When his eyes finally meet Riley’s, Mac understands the silent ache in them—the ache that’s surely reflected in his own eyes. He and Riley are drowning, but at least they’re drowning together. Mac frowns. That must be the dimmest “on the bright side” thought he’s ever had. 

Riley doesn’t say anything more, so neither does Mac. They sit on the fire escape until long after the sun sets and the temperature drops, and the city's nightlife stretches its limbs as it wakes. Mac shivers, but Riley seems oddly unaffected by the cold. That or she’s too numb to notice. 

He threads his still semi-warm fingers through her icy ones, letting their joined hands rest on his knee. It seems like his last tether to the Riley he knows and loves, one who’s slowly slipping away from him and being replaced by a woman who might very well bring the world to its knees as payback for all that it’s done to her. 

Mac has no interest in ever meeting that woman. Mostly because he refuses to lose his Riley, but also because Mac knows he won’t be able to resist that other Riley. She will slash his restraint beyond repair, and Mac would follow her to the ends of the earth. 

He’ll find a way to keep them both afloat. He has to. 

Or else the Phoenix may very well be hunting him and Riley again, and this time, they’d deserve it.

[darling-i-read-it]

Hassun

2x03

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, dead bodies

Author’s Note: It is 2am. Second wrench has been thrown. 

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary : As Will's trial begins, his colleagues have to pick a side. The case takes a chilling turn when someone starts recreating the crimes he's accused of.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​

(not my gif) 

@/theladyaysha made most of these gifs

You stared in the mirror of your home. Your hair wasn’t working with you but with the music in the bathroom you felt a sense of calm. You fixed the bracelet you were wearing and adjusted the jacket you had put on over one of your more formal dresses.

Hannibal looked in his mirror, buttoning up his shirt. This was a day he had presented himself to attend for a while. Although he wasn’t quite sure how it would turn out he was prepared for it. Perhaps.

Will had to look at the bars in his cell and hope that his tie was on correctly. You did his ties and he had never actually properly learned. But he was more worried about how the day was going to go. 

The three of you took a deep breath at seemingly the same time in three different places. 

-

The courtroom was cold. You walked inside and caught the eye of Hannibal who had an empty seat beside him. You wanted to sit next to Alana or someone but you couldn't’ see her. You just didn’t want to sit alone. 

You weren’t sure if it was appropriate but you walked over to him and sat down wordlessly. Hannibal glanced at you but you just held your clutch in your lap, looking forward. You could feel Hannibal look over at you.

“I hope you don't' mind,” you whispered. He shook his head.

“I understand.” 

One of the side doors opened and Will walked in. His eyes looked elsewhere and you wouldn’t blame him if he was off fishing somewhere. He caught your eye and Hannibal’s. He gave you no emotion but you gave him a small reassuring smile. 

  By the time the trail began you were already on edge. Hearing words come out of a ladies mouth, speaking the worst of your boyfriend was something you never imagined you’d do. 

Eventually Jack came out and you leaned against Hannibal, almost involuntarily. Hannibal turned to you a bit but didn’t say anything, perhaps just reading your emotions. 

“Rather than being tormented by the work he did, Will Graham enjoyed the cover his role at the FBI gave him to commit his terrible crimes,” Marion Vega, the lawyer said to the courtroom. You tensed but Will didn’t seem to react. Granted you couldn’t really see his face.

“I don’t believe that to be true,” Jack said. You raised an eyebrow. You turned to Hannibal and he looked equally surprised. 

“Did Jack just say something...sane?” you whispered so only he could hear. Hannibal scoffed quietly.

“Agent Crawford?” Vega asked. 

“Will hated every second of the work. Didn’t fake that. His girlfriend harped on me for weeks and continues to do so. She didn’t fake that. He hated it and I kept making him do it,” Jack stated. You nodded, agreeing despite no one looking at you. 

“Why then, when you gave him the opportunity to quit, did he refuse?” she asked.

“Because he was saving lives. I was warned by more than one person if I pushed Will, I would break him. I put checks and balances in place, then ignored them. And here we are.” You were astonished. 

“Looks like he did hear you,” Hannibal muttered. 

After Jack stepped down everyone started to file out. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to talk to Will but when his lawyer ushered you over you came happily. 

“Leonard Brauer, you’re the girlfriend yes?” 

“Last I checked.”

“She’s the girlfriend,” Will said, rather stoically. 

“I want you to be prepared to testify. I don’t have you on right now but I’m hoping to get you in to testify for character,” he said. You nodded quickly.

“Anything I can do. I’m working with Alana as best I can,” you said honestly and Brauer nodded as well. 

“That’s much appreciated.” You turned to Will and he met your eyes. You gave him a kind smile.

“I like your hair,” you said. He laughed quietly.

“Thanks. I like your dress.” 

“Thank you.” 

Brauer got handed a package and he started to open it. He dumped it out on the table as you and Will stared at each other and an ear fell out. You were barely surprised.

“You know, if I had a dollar for everytime I saw a severed ear…” you said quietly. 

-

The ear laid in front of you. You were standing beside Hannibal, Bev, Price, Zeller and Jack who all were looking at the ear curiously. 

“One thing’s for sure. Will Graham didn’t do it,” Beverly said. You nodded although no one expected anything else. 

“Although, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Zeller said. You let out a stiff sigh and Hannibal nudged you a little.

“The timing is deliberate, choreographed to drop the ear at the start of Will’s trail,” Jack observed.

“Such a gift has great significance,” Hannibal observed.

“A gift,” you muttered. “Interesting way to put it.”

“From who?” Jack asked.

“Wil claimed someone else committed the crimes he’s accused of,” Hannibal suggested. “It’s what Y/N believes.”

“Will said that someone was you,” Jack whispered.

“Perhaps he was half right,” Hannibal said and you turned to him, glad to hear that. You and Hannibal were not in the best speaking terms right now but you understood you had a common goal. Zeller looked annoyed. 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

-

Hannibal sat across from Will at a table. 

“It seems you have an admirer,” Hannibal suggested. 

“It seems you kissed my girlfriend and suggested she love us both,” Will said, his voice monotone. 

“Yes.”

“You aren’t going to deny it?”

“I care deeply about you and Y/N. I believe that someone else may have committed these crimes and I believe we may have aligned wishes.” 

“That gives you no right to kiss my girlfriend.” 

The two of them stared at each other. Hannibal noticed that Will did not seem to be angry. He seemed more confused, perhaps even amused.

“That is not the priority here,” Hannibal stated simply. “You got an ear in the mail.” Will nodded.

“Are you assuming I’ve given you permission to continue to pursue Y/N?” 

“Are you?” 

Will was caught off guard a bit but bounced back quickly. 

“I don’t know.” 

A beat of silence.

“How far would you go to help me?” Will asked. 

“It hadn’t occurred to me to send you an ear,” Hannibal said quietly. “But I’m grateful and intrigued that someone has.” 

“Gratitude has a short half-life.”

-

You walked with Hannibal into a charred house. 

“Wanted to give us a warm welcome and still leave something to find,” Jack said as you looked over the dead charred body over antlers. It heavily resembled the pictures that you had seen on your kitchen table, just after the copycat killer stuck. The murder that presumabley Will had done

“An arresting piece of theater,” Hannibal said.

“It’s Will Graham’s greatest hits,” Zeller said.

“Are we addressing the elephant in the room? The charred, mutilated elephant right over there,” Price said. 

“Could we have been that wrong?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“No. We couldn't,” Zeller countered. 

“The evidence we found was immediate and almost presentational. May as well have been gift-wrapped,” Bev said.

“That’s what Will said about Cassie Boyle when she was found in that field. “Field kabuki.””. Jack was having doubts. You could feel it.

“There wasn’t any evidence before Will was apprehended and there hasn’t been any since,” Bev muttered. 

“What impact could this have on Will’s trial?” you questioned. Jack took this and thought about it before a moment. 

“Hopefully a lot of impact.”

-

You stood in the room with Alana, Will and Brauer. 

“I’m confused,” Alana said. “We are-”

“We are heading one direction and now, we are heading another,” Brauer said.

“You’re going to abandon your defense strategy, the entire case you’ve built...mid-trail,” Alana muttered. She turned to you. “You’re okay with this?”

“It makes sense to me.”

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Brauer said, walking over to the table that you were all sitting around. “Not only reasonable, fashionable. There’s a killer on the loose, demonstrating all the hallmarks of Will Graham’s alleged murders. Somebody out there likes you,” he said to Will. 

“This is just because you honestly don't think he did it,” Alana said, only to you.

“I am a woman of my word,” you said. 

“She somehow got it where she wanted, which she does often enough,” Will said and you nodded happily.

“Did you kill someone to do it?” Alana asked sarcastically. 

“No but someone did. Someone who likes Will enough,” you muttered.

“I won’t have to call you in the stand,” Brauer said. 

“Who will be taking the stand in my place?” 

-

Hannibal took the stand. You watched the hope crash and fall before your eyes. The defense was ruled inadmissible and you felt an anger in your heart that you hadn’t felt in a while, if ever.

You stood up as the court was dismissed for the day. You walked up to the judge as Will was taken out. 

“May I talk with you?” you asked. You put on your best girl smile.

“About this case?” 

“Perhaps?” He let out a sigh. He wasn’t supposed to but you were pretty. Perhaps this would go in his way. You tried to look as ditzy as you could as he nodded a little.

“Come to my chambers.”

-  

You couldn’t think. Your hands were bloody and you were shaking. The door behind you swung open and Hannibal stopped in his tracks at the sight he was looking at. 

You, blood on your hands and the bashed in head of the judge. You shook your head and continued to shake, the blood staining your clothes.

“I..I didn’t…” you started but you were such in shock you couldn’t say anything. Hannibal walked forward. He wasn’t going to say that he wasn’t coming to kill this man but seeing you with his dead body was something he was not prepared to think about this afternoon.

“I’m surprised it isn’t Jack Crawford,” he said quietly. You had enough heart to scoff at him. 

“He was gonna kill Will,” you said very quietly. Hannibal nodded and looked down at the body.

“I’m going to clean this. The BAU are going to come and look over a crime scene that I made for this and I’m going to make it look like the man who is recently trying to help Will out. You will not come with me to see the body.”

“I have to. You can’t go without me,” you whispered. Your eyes seemed elsewhere. Hannibal took off his coat and put it over you.

“Wait in my car.” 

-

Forty five minutes later you were in Hannibal’s home, freshly showered and wearing his clothes. You were staring at your hands, trying to figure out how you had killed somebody. Your anger had gotten the best of you but how? Bashing someone’s brain in...you could barely think about it now.

“I want Will,” you pouted, voice breaking. Hannibal walked up to you and sat beside you on the couch.

“You can’t tell him.”

“I have to. I tell him everything,” you said, looking at Hannibal. 

“Don’t tell him this.” 

You shook your head and looked over at Hannibal, still feeling like you were shaking. Hannibal put his arms around you and you put your head on his chest. He held you until you fell asleep.

2x04

[causeiwanttoandican]

More...

The Times

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/nothing-was-ever-good-enough-meghan-left-staff-shaking-with-fear-hb37gbvn8

‘Nothing was ever good enough . . . Meghan left staff shaking with fear’

Valentine LowFebruary 11 2021, 5.00pm GMT

The Duchess of Sussex has always prided herself on being a good boss. When she was in the American TV series Suits, she would sometimes buy the crew pizza. At Kensington Palace there was the occasion, recounted in the pages of People magazine in February 2019, when she paid for an ice-cream stand for staff. “They were remarking how it was the ‘best day of work ever’,” a friend said.

Some of those who worked for Meghan after she joined the royal family have less fond memories. Staff were bullied, according to sources, and some reduced to tears. One said they were humiliated by her on a number of occasions. According to the complaint revealed by The Times today, two PAs were driven from the household. The duchess denies any allegations of bullying.

The first sign that anything might be amiss came when a story appeared in a diary column in a national newspaper saying that Meghan’s personal assistant had left six months after the royal wedding. A week later the assistant was named in another paper as Melissa Touabti. “Meghan put a lot of demands on her and it ended up with her in tears,” a source was reported as saying.

Touabti was not the first member of staff to leave. Before her there was another PA, a young woman already employed by the palace. She did not stay long after Meghan arrived.

Both PAs signed non-disclosure agreements. There is no suggestion that Meghan tried to prevent them from speaking. Lawyers for the duke and duchess stated that she had no knowledge of the agreements and that they believed staff to be comfortable and happy.

In late 2017, after Harry and Meghan’s engagement was announced, a senior aide spoke to the couple about the difficulties caused by their treatment of staff. People needed to be treated well and with some understanding, even when they were not performing to their standards, they were told. Meghan is said to have replied: “It’s not my job to coddle people.”

There is no doubt that Meghan could be a demanding boss. There were a number of people, allegedly including Harry himself, who suggested that those early problems were partly to do with cultural differences in management style. As Omid Scobie and Carolyn Durand put it in their book about the couple, Finding Freedom: “Americans can be much more direct, and that often doesn’t sit well in the much more refined institution of the monarchy.”

However, The Times has spoken to insiders who have argued that it was about more than just American straight-talking. The duchess could be sharp with those she felt were letting her down, sources claim. One former staff member said: “I had unpleasant experiences with her. I would definitely say humiliated.”

After Jason Knauf, the couple’s communications secretary, made his bullying complaint, another member of staff was worried about spending time with her the next day because she feared that Meghan was about to find out. “This is why I feel sick,” they said.

Another time there was a row about whether Meghan had been told that the media would be present at an event. When she rang the aide, they rang back but she did not pick up. “I feel terrified,” the source said. “I can’t stop shaking.”

Another source said: “There were a lot of broken people. Young women were broken by their behaviour.” The source described one member of staff as “completely destroyed”.

Even before the wedding, staff were feeling the strain. One told a colleague the couple were “outrageous bullies” and said they were considering resigning. The colleague replied: “That’s so dreadful. And they are bullies.”

The harsh treatment was not confined to junior staff. One source claimed that Samantha Cohen, the couple’s private secretary, had been bullied. Another said: “They treated her terribly. Nothing was ever good enough. It was, ‘She doesn’t understand, she’s failing.’” In fact, the source said, Cohen was “a saint” and the best organiser of royal tours they had known.

Lawyers for the duke and duchess said they remained close to Cohen and grateful for her support and dedication, acknowledging that she had come out of retirement to work closely with them at a busy time. They deny bullying her.

The Sussexes’ autumn tour in 2018, when they visited Australia, New Zealand, Fiji and Tonga, was stressful for staff, sources say. A senior adviser did his best to reassure them, saying: “You are dealing with a very difficult lady.”

The issue boils down to whether Meghan was a demanding boss with high standards, or a bully. Did her team fail her or did she ask the impossible?

In court papers for her successful privacy action against The Mail on Sunday, her lawyers said that when she was distressed by the negative stories in the media about her, her friends felt frustrated by the instruction from the palace communications team that they should respond “no comment” to allegations. That left her friends “rightly concerned for her welfare, specifically as she was pregnant, unprotected by the institution and prohibited from defending herself”, they said.

An alternative view, sources say, is that Meghan craved rejection from the moment she walked into Kensington Palace, and that nothing that anyone did would ever be good enough.

The palace knew that when Harry married a woman who was biracial, American and divorced, they had to go out of their way to make sure the marriage was a success: if it was not, the royal household and their supposedly hidebound ways would be blamed. “Everyone knew that the institution would be judged by her happiness,” a source said. “The mistake they made was thinking she wanted to be happy. She wanted to be rejected because she was obsessed with that narrative from day one.”

Lawyers for the duchess said this was entirely wrong. The duchess wished to fit in and be accepted and had left her life in North America to commit herself to her new role.

More than one source has expressed their view about her wanting to be a victim. One claimed: “She wanted to be the victim because then she could convince Harry that it was an unbearable experience and they had no choice but to move to America.” Lawyers for the duke and duchess denied this was true. Supporters of the couple have argued that Harry and Meghan were frustrated in their attempts to live their life in a different way.

Finding Freedom quoted a source close to the prince saying that “nothing could convince Harry that some of the old guard at the palace simply didn’t like Meghan and would stop at nothing to make her life difficult”. In her legal case against The Mail on Sunday, the duchess’s lawyers denied that the couple collaborated with the book.

One source claimed that most of the tensions in the household at the time concerned the Sussexes’ relations with the media. “The way I see it, their view of not getting institutional support was that they were not getting permission to blow up the institution’s relationships with the media.” Again, lawyers for the duke and duchess deny this.

One conversation confirmed to The Times seems to reveal how much the palace was prepared to go out of its way to help Meghan. Before the wedding, the couple had a meeting with a senior aide who told them that the palace was doing everything it could to help and there was no need to think she had to take on her role in a particular way, a source said. If she was passionate about the acting world, they could help her to think about finding a role within the film industry.

The source said: “The entire place, because of everything about her, and because of what Harry’s previous girlfriends had been through, was bending over backwards to make sure that every option was open.” They said Meghan thanked them, but said she had no wish to carry on acting. Instead she wanted to concentrate on her humanitarian and philanthropic work, and to support Harry as a member of the royal family.

That might have been that, except of course it wasn’t. Part of the problem, according to the source, was that everyone in the palace was so genteel and civil; too genteel and civil: “When someone decides not to be civil, they have no idea what to do. They were run over by her, and then run over by Harry. They had no idea what to do.”

The duchess issued a detailed statement last night stating that the allegations were a smear campaign and an attack on her character.

[odissey061]

Parenting with(out) you [pt. 2]

I didn’t specify very well in the last chapter, but the reader was a member in an organization similar to the Haunting Dogs (for the ones who read the manga), but with the difference that this organization was subdued to a politician, so their missions could also be like kill x person. She is a skilled killer and a very good fighter you have no idea about how many scenarios played in my mind with a Mafia!Dazai x Killer!reader. Dark couple power, guys--.

It’s also implied that the reader and Chuuya were friends when Dazai worked with the Mafia and when she escaped from her boss, Chuuya offered her a shelter (the first time Chuuya appears in the anime, he said he just arrived in Japan after spending some time in the east)

[Mild smut]

The gif has not plot purpose: I juast wanted admired once again this hottie in a white suit

 Your first encounter with Keiko… didn’t go very well: you teared up as soon as you saw her, but she hid behind her father’s leg, refusing to see you. Of course, Dazai told her that there was the possibility she could see you for the first time, but it was like three month ago and in the meanwhile the kid started to believe she was not going to meet you. For the first month, she saw you as a woman who wanted take away from her the only parent left. She only changed her behavior with you when Dazai scolded her harshly, because she said she hated you and she didn’t want to see you again. That was the first and the last time Dazai slapped her.

 Hearing those words, you started to cry too: you know it wouldn't be easy to make Keiko accept you in her life, but still… From another room, you listened to Dazai saying “I know is difficult for you; but she is your mother. I already told you that she didn’t leave us because she wanted, but because she was forced” and also “I just want the two women of my life to love each other, can you do this for daddy? ”.

 Then she came into yours and Dazai’s room and she sat on the bed, close to you. Keiko gazed at you for a long time, then she spoke:”You have the same hair as me and also your face is similar to mine. Daddy says that we can both understand him the most and that my character is really similar to yours when you meet for the first time. Are you really my mommy? You are not trying to take away my dad away from me, right?”. “No, of course not. I love you so much, Keiko. I’m sorry for disappearing, but I didn’t want to put yours and Osamu’s life in danger. I’m so, so sorry, Keiko”.

 Then you showed her your wallet: there was a folded photo of your daughter with Dazai. Only then Keiko understood you really were his mother and you were with her. She hugged you, crying, and begged you to don’t leave her again. “I will do everything in order to have your pardon” you said and with that words you firmed your own end. But we are going to see this later.

When you started to work at the ADA, you requested to be Yosano’s partner, due to your ability: you could force someone else to do what you wanted, but you had to hurt yourself and the more lethal the wound, more control you had. You and her became friends really fast since you were the woman more close to her age. Sometimes you helped her in her laboratory and other times you carried on a case alone.

You two often spent time together out of work and you accompanied her to go shopping under the other members of the Agency’s blessing, of course, but you refused whenever she proposed to you to drink together, saying that somebody was waiting for you at home  and she teased you about your lover. Well, she wasn’t completely wrong, but you were talking about your daughter. (Neither you or Dazai told your coworkers you were in a relationship and you also had a child).

At work, nobody knew that you two were engaged: the smarter ones understood that you and Dazai weren’t completely strangers, since you entered at work and left it at the same hours, really often you spent your breaks together etcc…; but they couldn’t imagine you were actually engaged (and you were parents!)

Let’s answer one of your questions: how did Dazai behave with you at work? Apparently, he treated you just like a colleague, but he subtly showed only to you how he cared for you. Dazai’s love language at work was impossible to notice until you knew him: every morning he left a cup of your favorite drink on the lab’s table, he was always slacking off or ignoring his work free when you had breaks and he spent them with you and he always searched for your eyes and smiled at you when you were in the same room (when you were in the lab, he often gazed at thee closed door. Kunikida seemed to have a super effective radar for when Dazai was distracted about you: every time he hit his head with the pile of documents he ignored). And he also loved caressing your hand when he passed by the spot where you were, or when you casually brushing his hair please, ask me to write something about this point T-T. His gestures were discrete and small, but they were there. you still preferred them to that time he made love to you in his study when he still worked for the Port Mafia cough cough.

You preferred to maintain a professional facade at work, but sometimes, at the first occasion nobody was looking, he took you in an unused room at the floor to spend some time with you alone ;). You two usually kissed for a long time, even if you seldom indulged in more carnal acts. You protested everytime, but Osamu insisted with his usual dramatic act that it was impossible to resist when you were so cute in that outfit. He also used the excuse that at home you had no privacy since Keiko was glued to your side, even when it was time to sleep much to Dazai’s mild annoyance since he couldn't do anything with you because Keiko slept between you and your boyfriend in your bed.

Speaking about your relationship, Yosano was the first who suspected that you and Dazai were engaged. In the Agency’s bar there was the rumor, between the maids, that Dazai had found a s/o, since every morning he bought for them a cup of their favorite drink. A day, you, Osamu and your respective partners went there to have a meal and a maid was thanking this Dazai’s s/o for existing, because thanks to them nor her of her colleague were harrassed by the question of committing a double suicide together. With a mild anger in your voice, you asked her to be more specific and for every word spilled by the maid, Dazai’s face became paler. needless to say, that night he slept in Keiko’s bed, as your daughter was with you. Yosano connected the dots and she understood you were something more than colleagues, but she kept your secret.        

 But how did the Agency find out you had a daughter? That’s a fun story. Remember when I said that the quote “I’ll do anything for you” doomed your downfall? Well, the little rascal (your kid) took this really seriously. This wicked brat listened to you talking with your boyfriend about you abandoning her and she exploited that to steal your attention: were you talking with Dazai on the sofa? She sat between the two of you, saying that she wanted to play with you. Were you working at home? She cried so much loudly that you gave up what you had to do and the list went on. It took a while to Dazai to realize that his daughter was stealing you away. You were fooled by Keiko’s angelic face, but Dazai knew this little devil too much well to be tricked. (He was one fours surprised for the cleverness she showed and three fours annoyed by it. Dazai, what did you expect from your own daughter XD).  Having said that, a day Keiko feigned to be sick in order to spend more time with you, but you had to work and the babysitter wasn’t available, so you thought bringing her to work was a good idea (spoiler: it wasn't).

 The first ones to see you with Keiko were Atsushi, Kyoka and Kunikida. A few seconds later came Kenji and the Tanizaki’s siblings. They all were fooled charmed by your daughter and they started to play with her, complimenting how cute she was. Then Naomi said:”Somehow, she looks familiar” and, after staring at her for a while, they all agreed, trying to understand who the father was. Kunikida shivered for a second noticing how similar she was to Dazai, but he couldn't imagine Dazai having a lover, let alone being a father. You heard a crash behind you and when you turned you saw a very much shocked Yosano who held in her hand a cup handle and Rampo with the open mouth as he was eating a candy. Your partner knew your relationship with Dazai, but discovering he was also a father shocked her too much, Rampo probably understood everything when he saw Keiko.

 Atsushi wondered:”But who is the father? Does he work here too?”. The poor, naive Atsushi, didn’t have the slightest idea and you couldn't even have the time to answer, that Keiko jumped off Kenji’s lap, screaming:”Daddy!!”. All the members turned to see Keiko clinging to Dazai’s leg. Kunikida’s lenses audibly cracked, some of them felt the urge to sit and Yosano had to assist a couple of faintings. Some seconds passed in the utter silence as they tried to metabolize the shock, then they started to assault you and Dazai with questions.      

 The sight of Dazai lifting up his daughter was a sight to behold and eventually they accepted the fact that Dazai is a father. the image of Dazai giving a esquimo kiss to his daughter, holding her in his arms, has me melting on the floor. “How old is she?” Naomi asked and you answered:”She’s four years old”. She thought about it for some seconds:”But if she’s four that means that you and Dazai met when he worked with the Port Mafia, isn’t it?” and luckily Yosano was quick:”There are some things that are private in a couple. Now let’s work that we already lost enough time”. She saved you before the questions became too personal.

 Dazai and Kunikida left the office for a mission and you went in the lab with Yosano, telling Keiko to don’t come in, since the room was full of lethal weapons. Feeling abandoned, she cried as loudly as she could, thinking that you’d rushed over she used the same technique at home when you are with your boyfriend. It worked every time. But you didn’t. Rampo decided to take care of her: he shared his candies with her and he asked her to help him to resolve his cases. Keiko quite enjoyed staying with him.

 After a couple of hours, when Dazai came back to the office, all of your colleagues kicked you three out, begging you to take a stroll with your child. Above all the experience was traumatic and the shock too huge for them, but what surprised them was that even someone like Dazai could have a family and be a good father. It’s murmured that that day, when Kunikida went at home, he declared:”After four years of being Dazai’s partner, I asked to the Grim Reaper to take me, but he said “no, you have to suffer a bit more” and he placed Dazai’s daughter on my path”.

You also wondered how Chuuya would react to a mini Dazai? you sadists. You, Keiko and Osamu were in a luna park to spend some quality time together as a family. Both yours and Dazai’s guard was very high, considering your past works, especially when Keiko was with you. Recently, you heard news about a child kidnapper, so you were even more anxious, but Osamu reassured you: nobody was so stupid to kidnap the daughter of an ex Port Mafia director and of an ex agent. Right? No

All happened in a second. The park was really crowded and in a second you were holding Keiko’s hand and in the next one she was no longer by your side. Surprisingly, Dazai was the most scared one: he told you before that the reason he stopped to think about suicide was Keiko, so he was really attached to his daugher (more than a normal parent). But the moment of fright and bewilderment was really brief and in the next second, both you and Dazai analyzed the situation with utmost rationality. You watched in Dazai’s eyes and you shivered: they were ruthless, without a shred of magnanimity, just like whe he woked under Mori's command

But the kidnapper was doubly unlucky: he kidnapped not only Keiko, but also Elise-chan. When Mori knew that she was kidnapped, he sent Chuuya to retrieve her. His orders were: make sure that guy regretted turning against the Mafia (you know, usual Mori stuff).

He found the kidnapper hideout and he killed him without any problems, but the troubles for him had just started. As soon as the man was dead, ten kids or more ran away from that place (Chu Chu instructed them to go to the nearest police station), but a brunette kid stayed there.

Keiko, to put it simply, fell in love with him as soon as she saw him using his ability. Osamu didn’t mention at all he was a mafioso (he wanted to show to her daughter only his best sides), but he talked about his ex partner. She clinged to Chuuya’s leg with adoranting eyes. Chu Chu was a bit creeped out: why was that child not scared? She was kidnapped, for the God’s sake

Chuuya tried to push her off, but he miserably failed. He gazed more carefully at Keiko and with dread, he admitted that she somehow reminded him of his ex partner, but that was only a coincidence, right? Elise asked her:”Why weren’t you scared?” and Keiko answered:”Because I know that mommy and daddy will come soon”. Then she looked at Chuuya, trying to remember how her father called him and she said:”Chibi-chan?”.

And the cruelty of reality hit Chuuya like a thunder: not only that wasting bandage garbage was still alive, but he also reproduced! He wanted to die, no, better: he wanted to kill Dazai once for all. But the final stroke arrived with the next question:”Do you want to marry me? Daddy told me to ask this question to a very special person”. Being proposed by Dazai’s daughter… in what other wicked ways his ex partner did try to send him to the Creator?! That was even more successful that putting a bomb in his car

Luckily, you and your boyfriend arrived at that moment. At the sight of his daughter clinging to the person he hated the most, Dazai almost had a stroke (to Chuuya’s happiness). As soon as Keiko saw you two, she runned in your direction (Chuuya was two times happier).

“You bastard, what did you say to her abou-” he started to yell at Dazai’s direction, but you interrupted him:”Thank you Chuuya for saving our daughter”. And you hardly hit Dazai's stomach with your elbow, so that he thanked Chuuya too.

In Chuuya’s mind something activated and he came to the general comprehension of what happened four years ago and why you met him some time later; but he didn’t say anything about it. He changed the topic:”You are the only woman in the world that can handle him, so be sure to be by his side”. That sounded almost like a blessing, but you didn’t dare to say it. “It’s what I intend to do”.

And walked in different directions, then Keiko yelled:”The next time we see again, tell me your answer” and you were almost sure to hear Chuuya trip to the ground. “What question have you asked?” you wondered half curious and half amused and she smiled dreamly:”If he wanted to marry me”. This time was Dazai’s turn to stumble on his steps. You laughed so hard that you stomach hurt, but you couldn’t stop, Osamu glared at you with a look of betrayal.

For the whole walk to your home, Dazai kept telling her how Chuuya was a bad person, but Keiko retorted that someone as beautiful as Chuuya couldn’t be a bad person. For a second Dazai glared at her with a sad smile, wondering if she would have told the same thing after he confessed to her all of his crimes. Knowing his thoughts, you tightened the grip of your hand on his, smiling:”For Keiko, you are the best person in the world, no matter what you did in the past”, then you added with a cheeky smile:”even better than Chuuya, I bet”.

 After tucking Keiko in her bed, you and your boyfriend retired in your bedroom. Dazai whined:”My daughter, my sweet, beloved and innocent daughter… How could she propose to another man? Especially him. She broke my heart: until yesterday she wanted to marry me. What did that slug do to her?”. You chuckled:”Are you sure it’s his fault? When we arrived it seemed like Chuuya was shocked too. I admit too that he’s beautiful”.

 At those words, Dazai’s body froze, but you didn’t notice it, too focused on changing yourself for the night. “You and him seem to be well acquainted” his voice was somehow restrained and it was just your impression, or Dazai was jealous? “Not really. When you were in the Port Mafia we met only twice, but after my escape, he saved me. I had a high fever, no place to stay and I didn’t eat in the last days. I was probably on the verge of death. He took me in his home and he helped me to get better”.

 In your stream of words, you didn’t notice that Dazai’s mood changed. In the Port Mafia he was possessive and he get jealous really often, but at least he vocalized it in his words or by action; but this Dazai was different: since once you got together, he never showed any sign of uneasiness, probably because now he knew that there was no possibility that you could fall for someone else. But Chuuya was the exception and knowing that he was by your side when you rejected his help, fueled his insecurity. And in the next second, you were under him, his hands already on your pajamas.

Notes: if you are curious about certain aspects in this AU, you can always ask me

 You lost your occasion to say:”Nothing that you imagine happened, really”, because his lips were already on yours, kissing you until you didn’t have any more oxygen in the lungs. That night, Osamu kept asking who you loved not really for reminding you but for himself. He made love to you all night along, coaxing an orgasm after another one from your body, hungry for your love. You were quite sure that the both of you have been quite vocal and you hoped to don’t wake up Keiko. After he washed you, you took his face in your hands, saying only two words, a single question, Osamu gazed surprised at you for a while, then he smiled, answering your question with three letters: yes.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 8: Old Friends, Not So New Tricks

Summary: When a familiar face turns up asking for Katie’s expertise, she finds herself confronted by another familiar face, this one being one she would rather never have had to see again.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Blood and SPOILERS if you haven’t seen Agents Of SHIELD….

A/N: Once again huge thanks to @angrybirdcr​ for her edit here, and the new banner for the next couple of sections of the story as we head forward through the next few parts of SSB...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 7

O/S: Phobias

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

There’s a fine line  between success and failure. And that last mission had well and truly teetered its way along the edge. The team had been split up after a catastrophic coms failure leaving Katie and Evans badly compromised.  They had just about got the situation under control after some quick thinking from Katie and very sharp shooting from Evans, when Steve had broken every protocol in place and run head first into a gun fire to get them out, putting himself in danger.

And Katie was livid at him.

“We had it under control!” she said, her voice raised as she stormed through the corridor away from the hangar, people turning to look. They’d been arguing about it all the way home.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t look like it from where I was standing!”

“Damned it Steve!” She spun to face him. “You weren’t standing anywhere, you were running, head first into the crossfire without even thinking about what was going on!”

“The last thing I heard was that you were surrounded-”

“This is EXACTLY what I don’t want you to do!” Katie groaned as she ran her hands over her face “Run in there without a second thought for your own damned safety or anyone else’s.”

“What do you mean anyone else?” Steve’s nostrils flared.

“You left Rumlow and Rollins completely uncovered,” Katie shook her head, “to come and save me. I’m not a fucking princess that needs rescuing Steve!”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Steve’s voice was loud, displaying the anger he was feeling inside at her attitude. 

“I’ll talk to you how I want!” She snapped back. “You know everyone gossips enough about us as it is and we’re almost seven months down the fucking line…”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“…and yet you STILL give them fuel!” She threw her hands out to the side, bringing them back down to her combat outfit clad sides with a slap. “Oh look at Nova, needs her Super Soldier Boyfriend to bail her out!”

“For the last time…” Steve hissed between his teeth, but Katie completely ignored him.

“If you can’t remain objective when we work together then maybe we shouldn’t be on the same team.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t if that’s how you feel!” He practically snarled, as he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders back as his hands dropped to his belt buckle, eyes blazing. 

“Glad we understand one another.” Katie spat back, before turning on her heel and heading towards the armoury to change, ignoring his shouts.

****

After debrief, for the first time in ages Steve left work alone. He was in a foul mood, and practically wrenched his apartment door off its hinges. In part he was pissed at Katie’s attitude, but in others his anger was directed at himself because deep down he knew she was right. He’d utterly lost it when he’d heard she was in trouble and hadn’t been able to do anything else but rush in there to help get them out. It was ridiculous, she was a trained agent with a shot on her like you wouldn’t believe, and the amount of times they’d been in bad situations before…but something today, something about the way she’d sounded on the radio had gotten to him and he’d abandoned all thoughts of professionalism and gone after his girl.

Sighing he threw his keys down on the kitchen side and grabbed a beer from the fridge before making his way into the living room, toeing off his boots as he want. He dropped onto the sofa and let out a loud moan of frustration, his head lolling back against the cushions. He hated that they’d rowed, this was the first big argument they’d actually had. Sure they quibbled about small things, the fact he made her sleep on the right hand side of the bed at his because it was furthest away from the door (just in case anyone got in), the way he was a bit of a neat freak and when she did stay for more than a night his apartment looked like a whirlwind had been through it (Ok, he didn’t actually mind that so much in truth), the way she tried on every fucking outfit she owned before they went out (maybe not every outfit, but close enough…), the way he often went for a run first thing in the morning and she’d get pissed he wasn’t there when she woke up because…well, because….but all that was stuff he adored. The normal part of being with someone you were comfortable sharing your life with.

As he took a pull from his bottle his eyes rolled to the right and fell on the large photo frame on his wall. It was one she had made him for his birthday.

“Open the big one first…” She instructed, nodding to the gifts that were piled on his sofa.

He did as he was told without saying a word, picking it up and resting it on his lap. It felt like a photo frame. As he peeled back the wrapping paper he realised that’s exactly what it was. It was large with glossy pine edges to match the furniture in his apartment and filled with photos of him all from his life before the ice and his eyes grew large as he took in the faces that looked back up at him. There was a photo of him and Bucky as kids, another as teenagers, then one of them in the army- the one of them laughing that Katie had said she loved. His eyes began to mist over as he saw a few shots of his parents at their wedding in Ireland, on the steps of their tenement building at Brooklyn, one of him and his mom when he was a small boy, then he spotted one of him and Howard along with various shots of him with the Howling Commandos and finally one of him, Colonel Chester Phillips and Peggy. And at the bottom of the frame, on a silver plaque was engraved a quote from the Wizard of Oz- ”A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”

“I thought it was a shame to just keep them in a box.” Katie said gently as she sat next to him. “I wanted you to see them every day and remember you meant as much to them as they did or do to you.”

His fingers trailed over the various faces in the frame as the memories flooded his brain and he felt a lump in his throat at the wave of nostalgia crossing over him, and also at the utter thoughtfulness that had gone into her gift.

 “I picked what I thought were the nicest ones.” She continued and he was aware her tone was growing nervous. “But we can swap them if…”

“Katie,” his voice was croaky as he cut her off and looked up at her. He was right, she was biting her lip, worried that she had upset him but nothing could be further from the truth. He moved to take her face in his hands and he kissed her, hard. He pulled away and looked at her speaking with utter honesty and sincerity “This is amazing, Darlin’. Thank you so much.”

Letting out a sigh, Steve’s eyes dropped from the wall to a smaller frame on the sideboard, this one contained a photo of him and Katie a ‘selfie’ of the two of them at the Top of the Rock, taken when they had gone back to New York to visit Tony one weekend in October. He loved it, the pair of them grinning like idiots, Katie wearing a baby blue sparkly beany and matching scarf, her smile genuine and him looking like a loves-struck idiot, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he glanced at the camera. She had the same photo in her living room too.

No, he couldn’t go to bed without sorting this out. Abandoning his half-drunk bottle of Sam Adams, he shoved his shoes back on, grabbed his keys and headed out.

****

Katie didn’t even stay for debrief, more to piss Steve off than anything. It was petty, yes but she was absolutely raging at him. Their relationship had been the talk of the Triskelion for months, and for that reason, they had behaved nothing but professionally on missions, wanting to prove to not only everyone they worked with, but to themselves, that they could remain objective in their work and that them being together wouldn’t compromise the way they behaved in the field. 

And now he had fucked that.

She ignored his call which came just as she got home and throwing her phone onto the sofa she grabbed a glass of wine and ran herself a bath, turning her music up loud. She lay back under the bubbles, gently humming along to the music. Music was her thing to calm down to. She’d always played piano, right from the age of four when her mom had taught her, and she wasn’t bad at it either.

The mellow sounds of John Legend’s ‘Ordinary People’ faded into the opening notes of ‘Only One In Color’ by Trapt, and Katie paused, smiling. This song took her years back, to nights in London with colleagues in bars, and then a concert in Orlando in 2009…and Steve, it took her back to Steve and one rainy afternoon in August.

Katie shimmied around, folding laundry and dropping it into the basket as she sang, loudly. It had been ages since she’d done this, just danced around her apartment like an idiot. She turned round to grab the final load out of the machine and screamed as Steve was stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the frame, that annoyingly cute smirk on his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Jesus, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough” He grinned, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled into her neck and the two of them stood there, still, listening to the song that was playing.

“What is it?” Steve asked, pressing a kiss to the spot just below her ear..

“It’s called Only One In Color, by a band called Trapt.” Katie replied, turning her head to look at him. “It kinda reminds me of you actually.”

Steve smiled as they listened for another second before he moved back, his hand taking hers as he raised it above their heads and spun her round, playfully as she laughed, before he pulled him to her.

“Dance with me.”

“What, here? In my apartment?”

“Our own private ballroom.”

“You’ve never danced before.” Katie looked up at him. “You told me.”

“I know, Peggy was right.” He took a deep breath and looked at her. “I was waiting for the right partner. So, what do you say? Teach me?”

“You know I don’t really know a lot of steps.” Katie felt a smile spread across her face as Steve placed his free hand on the curve of her waist and she began to lead them around on the spot, her right hand held in his left, her left curling up and over his right shoulder. She watched Steve, who was concentrating so hard that his brows pinched together slightly, a look that was incredibly endearing.

“Stop over thinking it.” She said gently, looking up at him. “Listen to the music and just let go.”

So he did. He let go, listening to the melody and the words, smiling a little as the lyrics hit home, really making him think about the woman in his arms. She had brought colour to his life, given him a reason to keep going in this world he had found so strange and, well, daunting. As he found his rhythm, he felt the smile pull even broader on his lips. He raised his head from where his eyes had been focussing on his feet and his girl beamed up at him, squeezing the hand that she held.

“See, it’s not that hard is it?” She giggled. Steve returned the grin and shook his head.

“Surprisingly not.” He admitted. They continued to revolve around the space in the doorway between her kitchen and laundry room and Katie lay her head on his chest, Steve’s face automatically turning down slightly so his cheek was resting against her hair. After a minute or so Katie felt him move and instinctively she looked up and could do nothing but smile as they stopped dancing and their mouths drifted closer together. Her hand slipped up, fingers stretching themselves into the short hair at the nape of his neck as his lips met hers, his hand creeping across her back, large palm pressed firmly against her spine. 

They never made it to the bedroom, they made it as far as the couch before they were both naked and going at it like a couple of horny fucking teenagers. And since then it had been ‘their’ song.

Katie sighed and drained her wine glass before she set about washing her hair and climbed out of the bath. She dressed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie before pulling her damp hair back into a French braid and had just settled on the sofa to watch TV when the buzzer to her apartment went. Picking up her phone to look at the security camera she took a deep breath and realised it was Steve.

“Sweetheart let me in. My key card is at home.”

She gave no response.

“I’m not going till you do, you know I could do this all day. Or all night.”

Still no response.

“I mean it’s a pretty interesting buzzer.”

With a groan, knowing full well the stubborn little shit in him would do just that, she pressed the button to let him in. Half a minute or so later the alert went again to signal he had requested access to her floor. Once more she tapped to accept and turned her attention back to the TV. She didn’t look up as the elevator door in the panel in her wall slid open, keeping her eyes focussed on the television as he strode into the room, heading straight for her once he’d hung his jacket up on the hooks to the right of the elevator.

“You were gonna watch this without me?” Hesaid gently, nodding to the episode of ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ that was playing as he dropped down next to her.

“Yes.” She replied simply, her arms folded.

Steve fought the smile spreading across his face at her childishness. He knew if she was mad the worst thing he could do was laugh at her and make her think he wasn’t taking her seriously. So, he took a deep breath and turned so he was facing her on the couch, arm resting along the back.”

“I know you’re pissed at me.” He sighed. “But come on Doll, I hate fighting with you.”

“Then stop being a dick.” She snarked back. Steve took another deep breath and looked at her as she continued. “You know what it’s like at work, everyone has constantly analysed everything I do because, hello, Howard Stark’s daughter, and today…”

She trailed off and Steve looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I know. I didn’t mean to make it look like you couldn’t handle yourself.”

They fell into silence and Katie exhaled sharply, deciding to meet him half way. She knew he hadn’t meant to make her feel like he had but, there was also a part of her that had been scared. Not just for her and Evans, but seeing Steve rush in, headfirst with no regard for his own safety just to get to her had really frightened her. Despite his enhanced nature, he wasn’t invincible.

“You need to trust me when I’m out there.” She spoke, her voice was softe.

“I do trust you, you know that.” He looked at her. “But I’m not gonna apologize for looking out for you, Sweetheart. It’s my job. Both as your Captain and your man.”

“I get that, I do.” Katie sighed. “But you put yourself in danger today, running straight into the middle of a fire fight…can you imagine what I’d have done if you’d have been…”

She trailed off, swallowing and took a deep breath before she continued and her words hit Steve. He hadn’t considered she had felt as worried about him as he had her.  

“We have to remain objective, and if that means you can’t just abandon the team for me.”

“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He said finally.

She looked at him and took a deep breath, the anger dissipating at his apology and moved to give him a hug, her arms round his shoulders as he wrapped his around her back and pulled her clumsily into his lap.

 “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” She sighed as she lay her head against his.

“Forgiven?” He asked and she looked down at him, he was giving her his puppy dog eyes. She rolled her own, she couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but adore the fact he cared so deeply for her that he’d rush in, head first with no regard for anything else.

“Captain Dumbass.” She grumbled, before giving him a soft kiss.

“Guess so.” He chuckled. And when she didn’t protest he gently tapped her thigh, and knowing what he wanted she shifted off his lap so he could lay down flat on the sofa, allowing her to drape herself over him like  blanket, head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her back, legs tangling together as they settled in to watch their programme.

*****

Katie hadn’t been in the office for five minutes the next morning when she got a message to say Fury wanted to see her. In the years she had known the director, she still found it hard to get a read on him and this time was no exception. She stepped into his office and he nodded to her, and without a word got straight to business, leading her over to the screen on the wall by the sofas.

“I was wondering what you made of this.” He said nodding to the large screen on the wall. The photo displayed was of a tree trunk, cut in half and running down the middle was a long, tube like shape, with some markings on it. The photo zoomed in and Katie frowned.

“These look like the markings on Thor’s hammer.” She looked at the Director.

“Funny you should say that.” Fury nodded. “Because the Spectrographic signatures match the readings from Thor’s hammer too.”

“So whatever was in that tree was Asgardian?”

Fury nodded. “It looks that way, Nova, yes.”

“Where was it found?”

“That’s a trunk from a Norwegian spruce in Trillmarka National Park, Norway.”

“Figures.” Katie bit her lip.

“How do you mean?” Fury looked at her.

“The legends of Thor, they all have origins in Norway. When I asked him about it, Thor explained that Asgardians visited Earth thousands of years ago.” She explained. “They roamed Norway, mingling with the old Norse people, but back then, because humans couldn’t understand the concept of people from another planet, these, well, these aliens were revered as Gods.”

Fury gave a noise of understanding.  

“So who took it?” She asked. “Has Thor been back since the whole incident in Greenwich or…”

“I wish he had, then I wouldn’t really give a shit.” Fury sighed. “This thing has gone AWOL. According to my team on the ground, it was taken by a woman and a man, very much of Earth”

“Great.”  Katie rolled her eyes, before she continued, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Because every time something alien lands in human hands that ends well.”  

Fury gave a snort and pressed a button on a remote and she turned her attention to the TV on the wall of the office. It was screening a news broadcast, footage of a riot. The runner on the bottom of the screen identified the location as Oslo.

“The rioting has left twenty injured and three in a critical condition. Reports indicate that the group of about a dozen was led by this man and woman.”

A picture of the culprits filled the screen. The man was tall, dark haired, dark eyed and had a short beard. The woman, in contrast was slight, blonde and with icy blue eyes.

“And although their motive was unclear, the message was spelled out on the streets of Oslo, for all to see”

“It looks like the item has given them powers beyond those of normal humans.” Fury spoke as the newscast panned over to a fire on the street, this time an aerial view. The fire spelt out the words “We are Gods”.

“So what do you need me to do?” Katie asked, looking at him.

“I’m gonna need you to work with one of my field teams.” Fury continued, looking at her. “My best field team, actually. I want you to help them track these guys down. You have a decent knowledge on Asgardian and Mythological history and the team could do with someone with a little background on the subject.”

“Sir, if these people are as powerful as this report is saying, shouldn’t we consider at least trying to contact Thor, possibly the rest of the Avengers?” Katie looked at him.

 “No.” Fury’s response was instantaneous. “I don’t want the Avengers involving. It would attract too much attention.”

“With all due respect, they just set a street on fire. I dare say it’s already attracting a fair amount of attention so whats-“ She trailed off as Fury looked at her, an expression on his face that Katie knew extremely well having seen it several times before. The expression he wore when he was about to drop a bombshell. “Oh, what are you hiding Nick?” She frowned.

“I want you to understand that you’ve been kept in the dark about this so far for a reason. And I know you’re going to get emotional, but if you could refrain from throwing that coffee you’re holding, Nova, I’d appreciate it.”

“Dark about what?” She pressed, her tone irritated. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.

Agent Fury pressed a button on his phone on his desk. “Alright, you’re up.” And with that the TV snapped onto a different channel and she turned to see a familiar man sat in a chair on the screen.

Katie didn’t throw the coffee, instead it slipped from her hands as her mouth dropped open and the entire room swam in front of her eyes.

“Sorry, boss. The God rabbited” 

“Just stay awake. EYES ON ME!” 

“No. I’m clocked out here.” 

“Not an option!” 

The room came back into focus again and she looked from the screen to Fury, then back. “This…this is impossible.” She stammered.

“I’d have said the same thing myself not long ago.” Phil Coulson gave a shy little smile.

Katie found herself floundering for words before the anger at the lies and deceit bubbled up.

“No, you…you died! I was there, I saw it!”

“Excellent medics.” Fury concluded.

“They took you away, in a body bag!” Katie’s voice rose to a yell as she ran her hands over her face, unable to believe what she was seeing. She’d cried, mourned the loss of one of her friends, a man who had been her mentor. She looked at Coulson on the screen, and then away again, her eyes misting up slightly.

“No one knew I’d pulled through until after New York.“ Coulson spoke softly “I spent months recovering in Tahiti. It’s a magical place.”

“I want your word that you will not reveal Agent Coulson is alive to anyone.” Fury spoke and Katie turned to look at him, her face curling up in an angry sneer. “I debated long and hard about pulling you into this but we need you.”

Katie eyed the director, chin jutting upwards as she glared at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of the lies?”

“I have no option.” Fury’s face was stern. “I can’t risk the Avengers falling apart.”

“I’m not lying to them for you.” She shook her head “No way. A team is built on trust. Without that you have nohing.”

Fury looked at her for a moment, before he sighed. “That wasn’t a request, Agent Stark. If you tell anyone I’ll remove you from service.”

“So now you’re blackmailing me?”

“I’m merely pointing out your options.” Fury replied simply.

“You are unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Fuck you. Fuck this.”

She turned to walk out of the door before Coulson’s voice rang across the room.

“Katie, please. We wouldn’t be asking this of you if it wasn’t urgent, but we really do need your help

The use of her first name, not her code name, made Katie stop in her tracks. Taking a deep breath she spun back, fire in her eyes as she glared at Coulson’s image on the screen. “Why should I?”

“Because, ” Coulson continued, “you’re the only one I trust enough with this.”

Katie ran her hands over her face, torn between wanting to leave and her desire, sorry, duty to help. In the end her duty won out and she felt her shoulders slump as she looked back towards the two men, giving them both a curt nod.

“Fine, but that does not mean that I’m happy about this. Any of it.”

“You’ll rendezvous with the Bus in Oslow.” Fury instructed, ignoring her emotion completely. “There’s a Jet being prepped to take the new shift of mobile STRIKE team members out as we speak. You can go with them.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged. With a final roll of her eyes she made to leave the room before Fury called after her.

“Agent Stark.”

“What?” she demanded as she spun round, fixing her eyes on his.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But I had to do it.”

She swallowed, before she turned and left, not trusting herself to respond.  

*****

Steve was looking for Katie, he knew she’d been to see Fury and was eager to find out what it was about. After asking a few agents if they’d seen her he finally tracked her to one of the kitchens where she was sat, hugging a cup of coffee like her life depended on it, staring down at the table. He frowned, she looked absolutely beat.

“Sweetheart?” He asked tentatively as she looked up at him. His frown deepened when he saw her face. She looked distraught. “Honey, what is it?”

One look in his eyes and Katie knew she couldn’t lie to him, she didn’t want to lie to him. Fuck Fury, fuck all of this.

“Coulson…he…” She stammered, looking up at Steve, her eyes wet.

“What about him?” Steve frowned.

She took a deep breath, tears now rolling down her face. “He’s alive, Steve, he’s fucking alive.”

And then the dam broke and she began to sob. Steve instantly went into autopilot, pulling out a spare chair and moving it close to her so he could wrap his arms around her as she cried into his tevlar clad chest, his own mind whirling at the news.

Eventually she calmed down to tell him everything. And Steve listened, not saying a word, simply holding her hand, his thumb skating over her knuckles as she spoke. He did, however, make an angry noise that was half way between a snort and a growl when she told him Fury had threatened to sack her if she told anyone.

“I honestly thought I’d seen it all, that nothing life threw up would ever surprise me again.” She sighed looking at Steve as she finished explaining.

“Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He smiled softly and she spluttered a watery laugh through her tears, remembering what she’d said to him the first time they had met. “There’s my girl.” Steve reached over to gently brush her cheek with his hand. “I like it better when you smile.”

“Sorry, but I’m so angry. Fury is lying, again! Has he learnt nothing from everything that’s happened over the past few years?”

Steve didn’t say anything, merely studied her face for a moment and then both of them turned their attention to the door when one of the Junior Agents appeared.

“Agent Stark, Director Fury asked me to tell you we’re wheels up in an hour.”

“Thanks.” She nodded, sniffing before she looked at Steve. “I don’t even have time to pack.”

“You got some stuff in your locker, right?”

She nodded. She always had a few days’ worth of clothes in her locker and toiletries to hand, just in case. She ran her hands over her face and stood up. “You know, I don’t even know who I’m meeting!” She shook her head. “Other than Fitz and Simmons, I’ve no idea who Coulson has on The Bus.”

“Whoever it is I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Steve assured her. “And I know it’s shitty but they asked for you for a reason.”

“Suppose I best make the most of it, seeing as it will be my last mission, you know, on account of me telling you.”

“It won’t come to that.” Steve shook his head “I’m not gonna tell anyone I know.”

“Fury always finds out.” Katie sighed. “Tony is right about him. His spies have spies.”

Thirty minutes later she was walking to the hangar, suited in her SHIELD cat suit, Steve carrying her holdall for her as they walked. The Captain didn’t like this, he hated that she was effectively being manipulated and he would have loved nothing more than to give Fury a piece of his mind but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t supposed to know. They reached the bottom of the jet and Katie turned to him as he handed her bag to one of the agents who nodded to them both.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She promised as Steve looked down at her and nodded

“Make sure you do.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not sure how I’m gonna cope without my best girl.”

“Your best girl?” She teased. “How many others do you have?”

“One or two.” He shrugged. “But they’re in different states, so, they don’t count, right?”

She gave a laugh as she shook her head. “Jerk.”

Steve chuckled and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You know you’re the only one for me, Doll.” He dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “Just go do what you gotta do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He kissed her again, this time a little longer, although both still well aware that they were in the middle of a very busy hangar, surrounded by a lot of people. Sighing, Katie pulled back and allowed herself to melt into his arms for a quick hug before she stepped back.

“I love you.” She said gently.

“You too. Be careful.” He looked at her, his features verging on stern with his warning.

“I’m always careful.” She grinned, walking backwards up the ramp, wanting to look at him for as long as possible.

“Well that’s just an out and out lie.” He raised an eyebrow, hands dropping to the buckle of his belt.

She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared into the main part of the jet. Steve watched for a second as the ramp shut before he turned and left the hangar.

*****

The flight over to Oslow wasn’t too long. Katie used the time to do as much reading up on the item they were tracking as possible, going through all the files that Coulson had sent her. Eventually they docked with The Bus and her and the other agents made their way to the Air Lock. The doors shut and the capsule took them down a level before the frosted glass doors opened and there, stood in front of her, was Phil Coulson. The other agents pushed past, clearly fine at the sight of a dead-not-dead man in front of them.

There was a moment’s hesitation, where Coulson and Katie simply looked at each other, and then Katie’s anger boiled over and she stepped forwards, slapping him, hard across the face. The agents who were milling around all paused as Coulson’s head snapped to the side.

“Guess I deserved that…” He said, turning his head back to look at her as everyone hastily carried on with their jobs.

As Katie stared at her old mentor, her anger melted away and with a little sigh she threw her arms around him.  Coulson squeezed her back, before Katie moved a little to look at him, before she spoke for the first time.

“Good to see you again. Not dead, I mean.”

Phil gave a chuckle. “You too Nova. Come on, the rest of the team are waiting in the lab.”

He led her down the hall, Katie following, her eyes taking in her surroundings before Coulson stopped at the end of a corridor, near a door to a room that she could see had a glass wall.

“Now, before you go in, there’s something else you should know.” Coulson turned to face her and she looked at him, letting out an angry groan.

“What now?”

“I want you to know, Fury didn’t want me to tell you as he didn’t think you would come, it wasn’t my decision to keep it from you.”

“Keep what from me?” Her temper was flaring again. “I swear to God AC I am this close…”she held her fingers an inch apart, “to losing my shit!”

Coulson hesitated for a moment and then opened the door to the lab. As they walked in six people all looked up from what they’d been watching and turned to face them. One of them was a dark haired girl she didn’t know and next to her were Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz who Katie knew from the labs when they had worked with Lawson. Then she spotted Melinda May, an agent only rivalled in fighting skills by Natasha.

And then a pair of familiar dark eyes met hers as another familiar face looked up from a tablet.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Katie muttered and she turned to Coulson who shrugged apologetically.

“Good to see you too.” Ward grinned as Katie folded her arms and glared at him.

There was a moment’s pause as the two simply stared at one another, Katie’s teeth grinding together in irritation, before the girl with the dark hair spoke. “Okay, so this is awkward…”

“And this is Skye.” Coulson spoke, breaking up the tension. “She’s a…”

“Hacker.” May supplied, at the same time Skye replied, “consultant”

Katie was really struggling to keep her temper under control now, so missed the irritated glare Skye shot at May. First Coulson, now this. Fury was going to absolutely get the full Stark-slash-Supernova explosion when she got back.

“So, shall we get down to business?” Coulson asked, spotting the look on Katie’s face, realising she needed to focus on something else. “What have you got?”

“We’ve managed to identify our thieves.” May spoke as Sky pressed something on the tablet she was holding. A close up of the woman’s face appeared on the holo-projector in the middle of the room.  “Her name is Petra Larson”

“And this is Jakob Nystrom, her boyfriend. Both thirty.  Leaders of a Norse Paganist hate group”

 “And their numbers are growing thanks to what happened in London and the internet” Sky scoffed. “Yay internet,”

“Norse Paganist?” Simmons questioned

“Obsessed with anything derived from Norse mythology, stories of Asgard, yada yada.” Skye explained. 

“And now a weapon.” Ward gestured to a long object on the table which Katie hadn’t noticed until that point.

“Is that a 3-d print?” She asked, instantly captivated by the item, looking at Fitz who nodded. “May I?”

“Of course…” He said. Katie picked it up and turned it over in her hands, testing the weight as she scanned it up and down. The detailing was exquisite.

“The scan accounted for only one side.” Fitz explained. “There was too much damage to the tree for a complete reproduction”.

“But, see here, it’s clearly broken on both ends.” Katie held it up. “So there are more pieces.”

“Yeah, two at least” Fitz responded, nodding.

“Which means Sid and Nancy may be looking for a complete set.” Ward spoke as Coulson turned to Katie.

“The markings. Just as you said on the call they’re Asgardian symbolism.”

She looked at the item in her hand and nodded. “Similar to Thor’s hammer.”

“Yeah, hard to translate with our limited knowledge.” Couslon shrugged.

“You should give your buddy the God of Thunder a shout.” Sky spoke “He gets his powers from his hammer, right? What if this is his nail to the hammer?”

“He’s off grid.” Coulson looked at her. “And if he has a cell-phone, we don’t have the number.

“I told to get him a pager.” Katie muttered as she peered at the rod and then something stirred in her mind, and she began racking her brains. There was something similar about this, something that she’d seen or read before, if she could only remember what.

“So,” May looked at Katie, “SHIELD’s investigations are on the trail of Nystrom and his followers.”

“We’re charged with identifying the object and finding any other pieces before they do.” Coulson finished.

Katie nodded, still thinking. “If this acts in the same way as Thor’s hammer then that’s a sensible task.”

And then she trailed off as it suddenly hit her exactly what it was she’d been trying to remember.

“No, it can’t be.” She muttered as Coulson looked at her questioningly. She nodded to the item in her hand and then looked back at him. “I could be wrong but this…this could be a piece of the Beserker Staff.”

“The what?”  Ward frowned.

“It’s from an old legend that a great warrior, from another world came to Earth” Katie spoke, recalling the research she’d done once upon a time. “He had in his possession a magical staff but he loved Earth so much he never left, and he broke the staff into pieces and hid them.”

“Any idea on where?” Coulson asked.  Katie shook her head.

 “Well our Pagan friends certainly seem to have some advantage on that front.” Ward sighed. “They found this thing in a hundred and fifty square kilometres of Norwegian forest.”

“Guys, what if it called to them with magic?” Sky asked, her eyes going large and excited.

“Called to them?” May shot her a ‘be real’ look in response.

“We know it’s Asgardian, so the rules are a little bendy here.” Skye pressed.

“Just because we don’t understand something yet doesn’t mean we should regress back to the dark ages, talking of magic and fairy tales” Simmons shook her head and Fitz scoffed his agreement.

“Actually, that’s exactly what we need to do.” Katie looked around as the idea came to her.

“Excuse me?” Simmons asked.

Ignoring him, Katie turned to Agent Coulson. “Remember when we first found the hammer in New Mexico, and I told Fury to consult with an expert on Norse Mythology to fill the gaps.”

“Elliot Randolph,” Phil nodded.

“We should speak to him, he’ll know more about it than me.”

“Alright.” Coulson nodded, looking at May. “He’s a professor at the University of Seville. Set the course, let’s pay him a visit.”

“Shouldn’t take us too long.” May shrugged “But it is getting kinda late. By the time we get there it will be past eight in the evening local time. Can I suggest we head out first thing tomorrow morning?”

Coulson nodded. “Alright. Sounds like a plan. Okay team, lets wrap it up here and get something to eat. Think we’ve earned it.” He then turned to Katie, gesturing with his head for her to follow him out of the room.

He led her down a few more corridors and to a flight of steps which led up to the upper deck of the large airship.

“The Accommodation is probably a bit smaller than you’re used to, but…”

 “If it’s that bad imma find a hotel.” She shrugged as she followed Coulson down the corridor.

“What and miss all the fun?” Phil looked over his shoulder. “I’ve had the gin bar stocked specially.”

“Yeah, for the record that isn’t going to take away from the fact that I’m utterly pissed at you and Fury”

“I know you well enough Nova to not even hope that would be the case” Coulson snorted as they turned right. Eventually they reached the living area and Coulson led her to one of the spare rooms.

It wasn’t as bad as Coulson made it out to be, a bed that was slightly bigger than a single but not a full double, with a small wardrobe and a small basin to the side.

“This isn’t so bad.” She turned to Phil who was watching her a little cautiously.

“Glad it meets your approval.” He nodded, leaning in the door way before he took a deep breath. “Look, I really am sorry about all of this. I wouldn’t have-“

“Let’s just find that thing and then I can go home.” Katie cut him off, not in the mood for anymore apologies or explanations. She had a job to do, and the sooner she did it, the sooner she could get back.

“That’s the plan.” Coulson nodded. “I’ll be in the bar in an hour or so, got a few things to sort out before but, well, it would be nice if we could catch up.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Katie replied. There was a pause before Coulson gave her another curt nod.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

With that he turned and left and Katie’s eyes fixed on the now empty doorway. With a purposeful stride, she moved forward and pressed her palm to the pad at the side, the door sliding shut with a slight click.

Katie turned around, looking at her bag which had been placed at the foot of her bed and with a loud, angry groan of frustration she flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

***** Chapter 9

**Original Posting**