Greece x Reader, Request

The alarm went off, the drone hurting your ears with its shrill notes. Your arm flew out from underneath you, hitting around your nightstand until you found your alarm, but you managed to hit it off your nightstand rather than hit the snooze button.

And then you shot up.

Hadn’t you hit snooze about three times already?

Glancing down at the upside-down alarm clock, you really had, and it was a terrible choice. You were going to be late for your morning art class!

You tried to jump at bed—but really, it just involved you hitting the ground face-first. You let out a loud grown as you rolled over all the items on your floor, but you spent no time wallowing on how much pain you were in. You crawled to your closet, cradling a bruised knee, and then you stood shakily, rummaging through to find something clean to wear today.

Your roommate mumbled something about you shutting up, about her trying to sleep.

With a quick roll of your eyes, you continued for your search, settling for an oversized, knit sweater and a black pair of skinny jeans. You thrust your feet into a pair of flats before you quickly pulled your hair up into a messy and loose ponytail, several pieces escaping the hair tie. You grabbed your bag and basically ran from the dorm rooms to the Performing and Fine Arts building about an entire, fucking mile away.

This was your only morning class during the entire week. Every Tuesday, at eight in the morning, you had Large Scale Figure Drawing. This was the legendary class where you could use male models to help draw something, the class so often broadcasted over the television for having fit, naked men and women showing off their luscious buttocks and breasts…and more.

But to be honest, since the semester started, you had yet to see anyone doing nudes. A lot of what you had originally used were statues, and then your class had managed to get some models who kept their panties and bras on. It had never been some sort of exotic showdown that made girls’ panties get wet and men get…larger.

Or that you knew of. You had never been turned on, especially since the living models actually had articles of clothing hiding their private spots, but there were people.

And anyway, trivial things like that didn’t affect you. Your mother had practically been a nudist. As an artist herself, who only left the comfort of her studio (the remodeled garage) for events in the museum showcasing her work, she practically walked around naked. It saved lots of water and time doing this, she reasoned.

Your burst through the front doors of the Performing and Fine Arts building, and a glance over at the clock told you that you were over five minutes late. Lovely. You slowed your pace down and made your way to your classroom, opening the door as quietly as possible so your entrance could be as invisible as possible.

It didn’t work. Your teacher was a hawk.

“(name) (last name), this is a class. You know how I feel about tardiness.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bernan.”

She nodded over to an empty spot. “Hurry. You have a model today. He’ll be here soon. Seems he overslept as well.”

You were quick to reach your spot, quickly taking out your things and placing them in the correct spot. The door opened just as you took out your sketchpad, placing it on the small drawing board. You found yourself rummaging for a 4H pencil, and when you finally found it, your eyes lifted to the model who was positioning himself in the middle of the class…and taking his clothing off.

Taking his clothing off.

Normally, this wouldn’t bother you. However, this guy only wore sweatpants and a T-shirt, and as soon as both clothing articles were off, he was completely naked.

COMPLETELY NAKED.

Your face suddenly became very warm, and you found it hard to move your hand and begin drawing the model. Your eyes were fixated in the very important area, the most important part of a man. You weren’t sure if it was considered big or small—sex and things like that had never concerned you—but you did have an incredible, foreign, and sensual feeling overtaking you. The tittering around you led you to believe that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by the man and his manhood.

“Well, he’s certainly no Greek statue,” someone joked, and you became even more flushed as the reality of everything came flooding in. The nearly naked models, the entirely naked statues reminiscent of Greek and Roman influences…this man. “Give us a pose!”

You managed to tear your eyes away, meeting the vividly green eyes of the model. Oh, he was a Greek statue. Every muscle, the sharp jawline, the perfectly sculpted…everything…! His messy brown hair stood up on ends, and the man sat down on the small stool, propping his left elbow on his left thigh, leaning his head against his palm. But you were directly in front of him, lucky you. He could hide nothing. He simply spread his legs and relaxed, his eyes finally moving away from yours.

“All right, you have an hour to draw something decent,” Mrs. Bernan instructed as she pointed to the clock. “So, get started. Mr. Karpusi can’t sit still all day.”

***

You had managed to do it, somehow. Saving his special area for last, you had managed to draw him—and quite well, if you did say so yourself.  You had managed to get the glint in his eyes, the way his hair shone underneath the bright lines. You caught the deep shadows of his body, his beautiful jawline, and the slight smirk of his face.

You wanted to keep this drawing forever.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t. Mrs. Bernan had made each student leave their sketchpads in her classroom, in the stool where the sexy, nude model had been sitting in during the class period, and she said she was be surveying all our work for the past few weeks as she wanted to see who she should suggest for the art competition in a few weeks.

You wanted to be one of the chosen though you knew fairly well that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. You still had miles to go.

After turning the sketchpad in, you quietly collected your things and headed for the door, eager to return to your dorm and catch at most an hour of sleep before your next class.

Unfortunately, your plans didn’t quite work out.

The model was waiting by the door, surrounded by a few girls asking him if he was single, but he pushed past them when he saw you, stopping in front of you. You froze, staring at him quizzically.

“Do you want to get some coffee with me?” he asked all of a sudden.

Your gaze travelled back to the surprised girls, but you nodded your head despite their glares.

He took your hand and his and led you to the coffee shop.

***

The walk there was spent with mostly you asking him questions. You found out he was Heracles Karpusi, a graduate from this school. He was only a few years older than you, but he had already been successful in life. He had won awards for his sculptures and was a local model. You had to literally beg this information out of him. He didn’t seem very interested in talking about himself…or anything really. He walked with a slightly bored expression, and you felt slightly offended by it. Were you really so…dull?

When you guys reached the café, you guys made a quick order before sitting down, easing back into silence.

For you, it was awkward.

For him, it didn’t seem to matter.

When your orders finally arrived, he finally began his side of the interrogation, and he decided by asking possibly the most embarrassing question you could think of. “Did you like my naked body?”

You nearly spit out your latte; actually, you had to cover your mouth and nearly choked on it. This led to an entire minute of painful hacking, and when you finally stopped, you managed to weakly ask, “What?”

“You seemed to stare at me a lot.”

“I was drawing you!” you blurted in your defense, thinking of the most obvious excuse. While you certainly weren’t lying, there was no doubt that your eyes lingered in a certain area for a lot longer than it should have. Also, you never even drew that part in. You shaded it in. Your hand shook a lot when you had attempted to draw his package, so, you had ended up shading instead. “I…I’m not a pervert, I swear.”

“But I like perverts,” he murmured, leaning towards you. There was a glint in his eyes, and it made your heart suddenly rise in beats per minute. “I found myself wondering what you would look like as my model instead.”

You weren’t sure if you should have felt flattered or offended.

Suddenly, he caught your chin with his thumb, and he brought you closer to him, leaning over the table. His lips gently hit the side of your mouth, and he murmured into your lips, “Do you want to be my model, (name)?”

You had never done anything like this before. Sure, you had had sex before (and hadn’t thought much of it), but the way he spoke to you, the way he held you… All about him seemed to be making chemical reactions explode inside your body, and without a thought, you nodded at him. A smirk made the side of his mouth curl up, and he stood, suddenly picking up into his arms bridal-style. Everyone stopped to stare as your face became flushed, but you refused to say a word, letting this one-time thing simply happen.

This was the only time you’d do anything as reckless as this, you promised yourself.

And so Heracles Karpusi took you away.

***
Extended Ending:

Heracles had literally meant for you to be his model, you found out. You sat in a seat for hours as he sculpted the likeness of you onto the plaster, marveling at the way your hair fell onto your shoulders and the pretty collarbone you had. You weren’t naked either. You sat in a tank top and your underwear, relaxed in a comfortable pose.

So, it really wasn’t reckless at all, just an artistically new experience.

There was a good side to this though. When you were done with it, you stood and pulled all of your clothing back on, and just as you were about to leave through the door, Heracles grabbed your hand and asked you one simple question:

“Have you ever had Greek food?”

And that was how you scored a date and a boyfriend. Through art.

Yep. It happens.