#might swipe right just to see what they say 😭😭😭

[invisiblyvisiblejay]

i just opened bumble to discover someone who sat behind me in a class last semester who is ALSO NAMED JAY superswiped me i have multiple questions

[chrisevansonly]

Extra Special (Lando’s Poppy AU)

lando norris x female reader

summary: lando’s just won another grand prix and his baby girl couldn’t be more excited

warnings: none very cute and fluffy

a/n: i know i’ve been slacking but i hope you all enjoy this, it was requested and it’s a little small but i really wanted to get something out 😭🩷

You’d watched the race on the flatscreen in the living room with Poppy cuddled into your side, she loved watching her dad race on Sundays and seeing him pop up on the big screen during interviews.

They were racing in Saudi Arabia, and Lando had been having a brilliant race, after qualifying with pole position, he’d managed to win the race ahead of Max Verstappen, or uncle Max as he called himself.

“Poppy my love! Daddy won!”

The six month giggled and clapped her hands as she watched the screen, the perfect time for you to take your phone out, just as Lando arrived for his post race interview.

“Who’s that my love hmm? Is that Daddy?”

You panned the camera from the TV over to Poppy who was a smiley mess, within a few seconds she pointed at the screen

“Dada!”

The first thing that ran through you was shock, Poppy had just said her first word, and you’d caught it on camera.

“What did you say baby?!”

Picking her up and kissing her cheek she babbled again before patting your shoulder as her eyes moved back to stare at Lando

“Dada!!”

“Yeah baby! That’s dada!! Oh he’s going to be so sad he missed this!!”

Kissing her cheeks a few more times you sat back down with her and sent the video off to Lando. It wasn’t until a little while later that he facetimed you, his expression was priceless

“Tell me that video was real”

“It was real my love..”

Lando’s hand swiped over his face as you turned the phone to Poppy who smiled

“Hi petal, did you say your first word?!”

“Dada!!”

She squealed happily and you swore you could see his eyes start to shine with happy tears

“Holy shit..god-i don’t even know what to say”

You cooed as your husband shook his head before blinking a few times

“Well I don’t want to cry before the podium, but I’m coming home to you two right after this..and fuck I can’t wait to hear her say that in person…”

“We love you very much baby and are so so proud of you…get home safely”

Lando nodded before blowing both of you a kiss

“I love you both so much, i’ll be home soon.”

Poppy reached for the phone and tried to put the camera in her mouth, obviously trying to kiss her father goodbye, which earned a laugh from Lando before the facetime ended.

“My sweet Poppy you made daddy’s race extra special”

She might not have understood what you said, but you’d never miss the way her eyes lit up at the mention of Lando, she really was his little flower, the two of them having such an inseparable bond.

You couldn’t even be upset she didn’t say mama first, because Lando’s reaction was worth more than anything in the world.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HELLOOO idk if ur requests are on rn so take ur time with this request and get to it at ur own time but i was wondering if u could make a short one shot fic abt reader who is in a relationship with katsuki and is at home while he's out in patrol and she sees his location with life 360 and sees that he's beside some sort of restaurant or supermarket so she texts him smth like

i see ur beside the ramen place i like can u buy dinner tonight 😊

AND THEN KATSUKI IS JUST 🤬🤬🤬 WTF HOW DO U KNOW WHERE I AM ARE U OUTSIDE RN

all lighthearted and funny :))

THANK UUU SO MUCHH 💞💞

LMFAOOOO thjs js so funny😭😭😭 tysm for this ask i hope i did it some justice :33 hope you’re still stickin around to read it anon ! Short lil drabble, much luv xx

“since you’re by that ramen place i like you can get some for dinner 💋💕”

“ ? what the fuck”

“?? where are you.”

“?”

before you can send another text message, your phone lights up with your boyfriend’s caller id, you giggle.

“hi, baby.”

“where the fuck are you at ?”

you snort, readjusting on your sofa “what are you talking about ?” you ask teasingly.

you catch the sound of people talking as you hear katsuki grumbling to himself “i don’t see you.”

you giggle, kicking your legs a little “and why would you need to see me ?”

katsuki groans, already exasperated and growing more and more impatient, you’re surprised he hasn’t started cursing your entire bloodline yet “quit it with that mysterious bullshit, how do you know where i’m at.”

and just to mess with him, you respond “i see you.”

it’s quiet on his end for a moment, aside from the chatter on the street “yn. i’ll fucking kill you.” you throw your head back and laugh “once i find you, you’re done for. your ass is grass.”

“i like it when you talk dirty to me.” you joke, he scoffs hard on the other end “freak.” you hear him mumble, you giggle some more.

“i’m at home, just saw your location and decided to ask you to get me some food.”

“get you some food.” he bites, scoffing in disbelief.

“us, get us some food. pretty please, suki ?” you use your sweetest voice, maybe he might even be able to imagine your puppy dog eyes through the phone.

he laughs sarcastically “right. what makes you think you deserve to get anything after that little stunt you pulled, huh ?”

you pout, whining so he knows you are “i was just kidding, was jus’ a little jokey-joke.” you can’t help but tease him a bit more.

“yeah, my ass.” you snort loudly, laughing and the huff he lets out clearly lets you know he’s not amused, you can see him rolling his eyes at your antics.

“we’ll see.” is the answer he graces you with. you squeal, cus you know that means you won. katsuki is quick to remind you he didn’t say yes, but you already know his mind’s been made.

“i’m surprised you didn’t ask me why i have your location on my phone.” you hum.

katsuki sounds utterly confused by your question when he responds “why would i give a shit about that ? s’not like i get somethin’ to hide. don’t care if you know where i’m at.” he responds simply.

“sides, i know how obsessed you are with me, so—”

“i’m hanging up now, katsuki. get me my ramen. toodles.” your bitter tone makes him laugh, and just to piss you off some more he adds in a honeyed sweet “see you later, babe. love ya.” before he hangs up. you huff shaking your head. a text pings and you swipe up to check it, it’s from katsuki again.

“i’m not getting you shit btw.”

he does indeed come back with ramen.

[heartfullofleeches]

Wait that post about Aspen was so cute 😭💖💖 Did Reader make a move after that since they were looking for a beautiful man ⁉️😳

X

Without a doubt- I see that Reader as a bachelor/bachelorette who attends upscale parties for the good food and good looking people. Bit of a flirt, but legitimately in the market for a partner and a sucker for pretty boys- Either born into money or worked their way up the company ladder, but they're relatively down to earth regardless. Past love interests have ghosted them for their "cheap" gifts, but Reader is quick to swipe up whatever reminds them of their lover or what they might need no matter the price tag.

If Aspen doesn't marry this lovable dork before the end of the week he's burning the city down.

-

[Reader excuses themselves on their first official date with Aspen - returning with shoe box in hand.]

Aspen: Thank goodness, I was starting to get worried. And where on earth did you wonder off to?

Reader - opening the box: I've noticed you had some trouble walking in those heels so I ran to grab you something more comfortable. You shouldn't have to sacrifice yourself for your beauty. Look- these sandals have little bows on them- I hope I got your size right :)

[Aspen loses his balances and falls directly into a hedge of bushes.]

Reader: Are you okay?!

Aspen: Yes, just a bit weak in the knees.... Would you say it's too soon to think about us having children someday?

[tanniefm]

munch (m) | jjk drabble

pairing - jungkook x (f) reader 

genre - smut

word count - 297

song inspo - munch by ice spice (and also seven highkey but that’s just from the leaked lyrics i’ve seen 😭)

warnings - jungkook being a certified eater

a/n - the moment i saw jungkook might allude to eating pussy in seven i immediately got to writing, sorry in advance 😅

One thing to know about Jeon Jungkook, he fucking loves pussy. 

Anytime you come over it’s the only thing on his mind, licking it, slobbering on it, being inside of it, he doesn’t care. He feels this insatiable need to see that pretty pussy all the time. It was never uncommon to be getting in an argument with him only to shut you up with saying “Stop arguing with me so I can eat you out,” with a furrow in his brow, and for you to try your hardest not to let out a childish giggle. It almost makes you giddy how much he loves eating you out. And he’s so fucking good at it. It’s like he gets drunk off of your taste alone. He wants nothing more than to push those cute lacy panties you like to the side and get to work. His tongue swiping up and down from your slit to that pretty puffy clit. He thinks he might be obsessed with your clit especially. He loves how swollen it gets when he rubs it the right way. Whispering how cute it is, what he wants to do to you, how precious you are. He knows it makes you melt everytime, and he’s certain when he can feel the gush of wetness that comes from you. ‘Good,’ he thinks, ‘more for me to clean up.’ He smirks and dives in, feeling as euphoric as ever. He uses his nose to his advantage when he fucks his tongue into your entrance and rubs it against your clit, making you whine loudly. As you watch Jungkook go at your pussy like a man starved, you can’t help but have a humorous thought drift through your mind. 

“I can’t believe I finally found me a munch…”

[2018-01-20]

hiii i heard you wanted some requests 👀 and I'm super glad you're back !! I missed you a lot lot <3

My head has been so full of post-dinner date Gojo ideas. The domesticity of getting unready with him and cuddling in bed right afterward. It's just so simple but so cute. oh oh and doing nighttime skincare with him :( having him sit down and rubbing in the different creams into his skin and the way he would lead into your hands. ahhh he has me so weak (_ _)

Feel free to use any of these ideas to write or take inspo from if you want! Gojo is such a cutie :3

Anyways, have a lovely day, and remember to take care of yourself!!

pairing. gojo satoru × gn!reader

content. bunch of fluff + comfort, reader has smaller hands than gojo (in case that bothers anyone!!) & sits on his lap, sappy reader + gojo!! read slowly for maximum enjoyment <3

sticky-note. nonnie u are so goated for this idea, i think this might be my fav gojo fic so far 😭 I MISSED U MORE!! hope u have a wonderful day and thank u for sending this in 🫶

satoru thinks your hands are pretty.

they’re smaller than his—of course they are. he can’t think of a single person who has bigger hands than him. he enjoys it, though. your touch is stimulating in a way; fingertips completely gentle as you rub the latest lotion that you bought onto his face.

“can’t keep your hands off of me, huh?” he leans back and grins, but you can’t even be annoyed by his teasing. there's a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen a very long time—and you are more than happy to see it now.

“mhm,” you hum, softly kneading his cheeks like you would with a baby. his blindfold is off and his demeanor seems so relaxed, his face basking into your soothing touch. it’s hard to hold back your own smile. “you just have that type of charming effect, y’know?”

“you’re being awfully nice today,” he remarks suspiciously, peeking an eye open to look closely at you. you pinch his cheek in return. “what’s the occasion baby?”

you roll your eyes, pulling back your hand for a moment to scoop up a bit more lotion. you swipe it lightly onto his forehead. “what? i can’t give you attention? can’t i spoil my boyfriend for once?”

the tips of his ears redden at your words, making you giggle at the rare but pleasant sight. “....i mean, you can, but—”

“shh,” you shush him. he closes his mouth instantly. “no more talking! this is the most important part because i have to smooth out all the wrinkles in your forehead.”

he lets out a big gasp, being playfully offended—narrowing his eyes with an indignant look. the smile you didn't even know you were sporting grows wider at how cute he is. you wouldn't say it that out loud though, of course.

it is so beautifully quiet and peaceful. you can’t think of the last time you spent time with satoru like this: seated on the living room floor of his apartment as you slap your whole skincare routine onto his face. his back is against the couch with his legs sprawled out, but not too sprawled out so you are more than comfortable on his lap. it’s nighttime so the curtains are draped over the window, but you love the warm, dim lighting of his living room. gojo satoru is gorgeous, but is especially pretty in this lighting; with his head comfortably tilted back and eyes closed, but not forcefully or harshly shut as if he’s in pain.

for the longest time, you've been used to seeing satoru in pain. not in a physical way—but in an emotional and mental way that tugs at your heart strings just seeing him in that state. you know the burden that comes with being the strongest: there will always be a significant power divide between you and the people you love, which will never not be difficult for the other party to ignore. it also doesn’t help that he is so happy-go-lucky all the time, despite the jujutsu sorcerer duties that keeps piling rocks onto his shoulders.

but now in this moment, he is all yours. he isn’t the strongest, nor is he Gojo Satoru. he is just yours—just the lover boy who melts into your open arms whenever given the chance. just a boy who had to give up being a boy so he could be a man for others to look up to him. just someone you would want to depend on you, the same way you lovingly depend on him.

“i love you,” you suddenly whisper, in the midst of just simply applying lotion onto his skin. your slow, comforting movements make him want to fall asleep, but your words make him wide awake.

“out of the blue?” his head shoots up, eyes wide and visible despite being behind his messy bangs. he sits up and stares at you, the same glimmer back in his eyes. “i mean, i’m not complaining—”

you interrupt with a huff, “i say it everyday, jerk.” you place your hands on his chest to wipe away any of the lotion moisture left on your palms. he doesn’t bat a single eye. “what do you mean ‘out of the blue’?”

“i know, but...”

your jaw drops a bit. you actually cannot believe your eyes as satoru tilts his head a bit to the side, shyly averting his eyes as you see a tint of scarlet on his cheeks. “it just feels so intimate right now, so...”

good lord. you want to baby him so bad. you want to shrink him and keep him in your pocket and always protect him wherever you go.

“you’re too cute for my well-being,” you breathe, going back on your earlier words. “you know i always mean it when i say i love you, ‘toru.”

“stop,” he whines. he raises an arm to cover his face, eyes still unable to look at yours. “don’t compliment me. i don’t think i’ll be able to handle it right now.”

you can’t help but laugh, squeaking in surprise when satoru pokes at your sides with a little pout. you want to tease him, you think. you might as well with a smile permanently on your face now.

these are the type of moments you crave: moments when satoru tears down his walls and lets himself act like he’s a little boy all over again in front of you. it’s not like he necessarily had walls up with you in the first place, but being a jujutsu sorcerer has always meant protecting and guarding yourself at all times no matter the cost.

but now, you have him. and he has you in his arms, the one that sneak around your waist and warmly wrap around you to keep you close to his chest. it's cuddly but protective, both of your laughs drowning out any other background sounds.

and you are more than willing to protect him yourself.

[myluvrrhea]

Sativa

Parings - Rhea ripley x Fem Wrestler!reader Backstory - You and Rhea had some sort of situationship that caused you too to grow closer. But as weeks went by you found Rhea growing closer to Dom and farther from you. Word Count - 0.5k

MY FIRST FIC!!!

You were sitting in your locker room after a hard match against Zelina Vega. Which , made you feel sweaty and exhausted. After sitting in your locker room and freshening up , at-least for the most part. While putting  the straps of your back pack on you heard a knock on your locker room door. 

When you unlocked it , you expect Liv , your best friend to be waiting there for you. But instead stood,Rhea Bloody Ripley. You felt you face go cold as you looked up at her.

“ You good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rhea said as she stepped into the locker room, giving you no time to argue. 

“ oh yeah i um— I just wasn’t expecting you to be here I guess…” you said your voice getting quieter with each word you spoke. 

Rhea turned to look at you. God she was tall. Her gear fit her perfectly. She looked stunning to say the least. How were you going to get through this. You thought to yourself. You felt you heart beat faster with every breath you took.

Rhea quickly looking at your lips before looking back into your eyes. She sighed before speaking. 

“Hunter told me about an idea that he wanted to pitch to us,” She spoke softly. Before she could say the rest of her statement she was cut off by the door opening. Turning around, you saw the standing figure of Dom. 

“Hey Mami,on in 5,” he spoke with a smile. Rhea nodded at him before she whispered in your ear. 

“Room 255 8:00pm,don’t make me wait,” She spoke in a more stern tone that sent shivers down your spine. After she left you had taken a couple minutes to yourself before finally heading out of your dressing room. Headed to the hotel you both stayed at.

Time Skip

When arriving to the hotel,you quickly swiped your keycard and headed into the room. What you didn’t know was Rhea was watching you from afar. Heading into her hotel room after you headed into yours.

Shortly after getting into your hotel room, you took a shower,and put a graphic tee paired with a pair of black sweatpants. Turning on your phone, you checked the time . 

“7:58”

You quickly put your phone and keycard into your pocket. Leaving the hotel  room and heading to Rhea’s. 

At her hotel room

Arriving to the door, you knocked softly. Feeling your palms sweat as you heard the doorknob turn. You soon saw the standing figure of rhea. Dark hair still wet from the shower she had taken. Before you knew it. You were pulled into her hotel room and pushed up against the door. Before you could question what was happening, Rhea’s lips were pressed against yours. Rhea’s kisses were usually heated. Sloppy. But this time they were soft. Almost needy.

When pulling away from her, you felt like you were on cloud 9. Looking back up at Rhea, you saw her eyes change into sincerity she began to speak.

“Im sorry I left you in the deep end .. I know it wants right and im just hoping that I could make things up to you” she paused for a moment 

“tonight?” 

Without  a second thought you pressed your lips against hers for needy kiss. 

“I think we could do that,” you spoke with a sly smirk planted on your face as she lead you over the bed.

—

A/N — I know this might seem a bit different😭 I proofread it and rewrote a couple of things seeing how many mistakes I made lmaooo

[leclerced]

lando accidentally sending nudes to his bsf. he doesn’t realise he sent it to her instead of the girl he’s seeing her (he’s only going out with her because he can’t have his bsf). when he doesn’t even know what he did until she comes up to her later saying that “she wanted to send one back but she didn’t know if it was meant for her or not”

i’m cackling ive sent accidental nudes before and gotten that EXACT response from a guy before 😭😭

lando would soo get a notification from her right after and he sees it and expects it to be her just snapping him but it’s her asking if it was meant for her. doesn’t open it because he’s mid jerk off and naps after he finishes, disappointed bc girl never snapped him back. hours later he wakes up and remembers she messaged him so goes to their chat and sees question and can’t remember what he sent. looks at the time stamp and then swipes out of the chat to see if he saved any pics at that time n the only thing is the nude he sent the girl and he goes back to his chats and realizes the girl was left on read and he opens the chat with his best friend and realizes what he did.

he’s immediately panicking bc he sent his best friend an unsolicited nude and he’s always prided himself on not being a weird guy friend or trying not to be obvious about how in love he is. he’s heard girls complain that their guy friends always make moves so he doesn’t make moves on girl’s he’s friends with. he types out a few different responses from “sorry, meant for someone else” to “sorry, i can’t remember what i sent” but none of them feel right. he ends up messaging back and sends a really long message like, “i’m so sorry i really hope this doesn’t damage our friendship you mean a lot to me and i never want to make you uncomfortable, that wasn’t meant for you i just misclicked, i’m so sorry.” and she gets the notification and is kind of upset because she wanted it to be for her and she’s like “haha don’t be sorry, just glad i asked and didn’t send something back” and she means it as a joke to cool the tension so he doesn’t feel bad. he sees it and is overwhelmed immediately bc… she would have sent something back if it was for her? what?

he definitely stares at his phone in shock long enough that she sees she’s been left on read and starts thinking she needs to apologize, until she finally gets a message and he asks what she would have sent. she doesn’t even know how to respond to that because she hadn’t thought about it so she says “idk i was waiting for you to tell me if it was for me or not before i started going through my lingerie drawer”

lando’s freaking out even more when he sees that message and i can see him typing out multiple responses again, asking what color lingerie has, what styles, if she’ll send it now, but he ends up joking, “i can send another if you need help figuring it out.” he hopes it’s not too much, and she surprises him by responding, “actually i think i might need some in person help, know anyone?”

she thinks she pushed too far because she gets left on read again, but within ten minutes there’s a knock on her door and lando’s out of breath because he ran up the stairs when the elevator took too long to make it to the ground floor, and gasps out, “so, i heard you needed help with something?” she giggles and pulls him inside and fetches him some ice water. as he gulps it down, she teases him for rushing and says she thought she messed up bc he didn’t text back and he apologizes for that and is like, “i didn’t get the wrong message, right? you wanted me to come over?”

they hook up and afterwards he’s just thinking about how he’s in love with her and doesn’t want to tell her like this especially if she just saw his dick and wanted to give it a try, so he doesn’t say anything for awhile and they keep hooking up and are so much touchier with each other in general. one day he’s leaving and gives her a little peck, and it totally sets him off because hooking up and cuddling afterwards is one thing but the kiss goodbye feels so domestic. he’s kicking himself bc he’s convinced himself she just wants sex and he thinks the little peck is too coupley for friends with benefits. next time he sees her he apologizes for it and she tells him it’s fine, “lan, we fuck like three times a week you can kiss me goodbye.” and it’s little things like that. he starts giving her more kisses when he arrives to hang out and kisses goodbye, and they cuddle when they watch movies together. play footsie when they go out for dinner. pretty much dating without any labels. both think the other doesn’t want more. and eventually someone asks if they’ve been secretly dating and they look to each other and are like, “uh i mean… are we?” “yeah i guess we are. yeah. we’re going home together right?” “yeah, coming to mine tonight, you left your-“ “yeah yeah they don’t need to know that.”

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!!

Welcome back to my crack posts! =D

We Are ep 9 is as hilarious as it's frustrating, and I will continue to the whys below with a healthy dose of crack. <3

Warning: long post 😊😅

Ohoho, our little boy is jealous and... its not even 5 minutes in (2 minutes since the actual start). Is that a new record?

Kluen: can I just sleep beside you- 😊

Phum: No. 🙂

Poor Toey getting roped into this too 😭

(something something, Chain helping Toey get Q jealous while Phum uses Toey as a buffer for the cause of his jealousy)

Our favourite old married couple hehe (who aren't actually dating yet-)

My poor Phum 😭

Okay, as much as I don't like Kluen, I have to give it to him for being so straightforward, going as far as telling Phum that he likes Peem when he realizes that Phum might does like him too.

Also the t-shirt: We Are Volunteer.

Yes! Call him out!

We really need more call out-ers in BL.

I laughed so hard my cat looked at me weird 😭😂

Children really are the best eyy

Phum looks so betrayed oh gods 😭

The 'I know what you're doing but I'll still play along cause I like you too, ai'kwai' look. Ah, a classic from thai bl.

This reminds me of when Tinn says "How can I be your friend? I like you!" when Gun finds him after he ran away from the MV shoot.

(And Gun replies, "You think I can?")

On one hand we have Phum who bribes children with chocolates (that he just happens to have in his pocket) to lure away his crush from his rival.

On the other we have Q who simply up and runs away when his friend faux-swipes his crush's sweat simply to make him jealous.

*looks between them and shakes head* these boys are absolutely hopeless

Our favourite married couple part 2 (who are actually dating)

continued:

Pun and Mick just here playing around 😭👍🏼

Peem was right, if they were the only ones in charge of cooking, no one would get any food T~T

But... how exactly did "cut into round shapes" get converted to "cut into round glasses" to "rectangles"? 😶

Fang is so done with these idiots 😭👍🏼

In this moment, I kid you not, my brain played the "what did he sayyy" meme 😶

Phum: *bombastic side eye of death*

Yes, please. We've been waiting for this for 8 and a half episodes.

Yes, and you are the nosiest peep, now continue.

Ah, so Fang is actually the violent sibling, and him and Phum (and Tan, apparently) got into frequent fights, it seems like.

Got caught red handed 😭

Tan is so dead

Wait... so Tan and Fang had a beginning much like Phum and Peem? 👀

Rivals to lovers for both brothers it is, then.

And I feel so bad for Phum, poor guy has been a third wheel since his high school days 😭

...somehow, I think Chain and Pun will put even TanFang to shame when they actually start dating 😶

'Course you have. You just played with water with your besties the other day

And with friends like yours, Peem? It's unlikely you'll go one day without playing around with something or the other

Beer doing God's work here 😭🙏🏼

I love how Beer is both perceptive and observant of his friends, and knows just what to say to get them moving.

He wants the best for Phum and even tells him how he's happy that Peem came into his life, and Phum is a lot more lively these days. (MSP flashbacks again anyone? No? Just me?)

He might not be as playful or enthusiastic as Peem's friends, but he knows what his friends need and he'll try his hardest to make sure they have it. He's just such a good friend.

Phum telling him about the Deal™ also shows us just how much he trusts Beer.

Love him <3

Sweetie, I understand you need some space, but you don't talk to your future boyfriend possible crush like that 😭

Nothing to see here, just a goodnight kiss.

Jokes aside, I like that Peem tries to figure out what's wrong, but he doesn't push too hard. And even tries to provide some comfort to Phum.

And in these moments with just them, Phum has bursts of courage to show his affection, and show Peem how much he means to him, instead of just telling him.

I don't think this is him being emotionally constipated (he is, no doubt about it, but strangely not as much when it comes to Peem), but more of him being unsure of where he stands with Peem (as I mentioned in last week's post).

Are they just friends because their friend groups merged? Acquaintances forced to be close due to circumstances? Just creditor and debtor? Is the deal all that's holding them together?

Well, Phum needs to find the answers. (Preferably and possibly within the next episode)

*sigh* they're gonna kill me with fluff (and I'm gonna die happy)

This is my favourite scene of this ep. Just crushes cuddling each other with sleep, the rest of the evil world (Kluen) forgotten for the moment.

Ah. I love cuddles even more than kisses, not gonna lie

Also, ep 10 seems promising!

Anyways, that's all for now, see you next week! And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a bubble tea and a cookie 🧋🍪

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

hiii i’m sorry i actually can’t remember if i sent this before or not😭could you maybe write smth with eddie getting an innocent reader high for the first time? <3

(hi angel !! u havent sent this before so <33 hope u enjoy!! *sorry if this kinda sucks i wrote it at like three am KDSJF)) (also i wrote about her smoking for the first time but i didnt touch much on her getting high really.. if u want me to write just that lmk!!)

✧˚₊‧ 🧸 ✧˚₊‧

eddie originally invited u over to his trailer because he mentioned how he was failing math and needed ur help studying. of course, you complied, wanting to help him (and spend time with him as youve had a crush on him for months) (and of course he didnt actually want ur help studying, he just used that as an excuse to hangout with u as he has had a crush on u for a good two years).

but now, after helping him study for a good hour, he declared he needed a break. this break included him playing some of the most intense music youve ever heard posing as 'background music' whilst he smoked a rolled blunt.

he asked you if u were comfortable with him smoking in the same room as you, and because u were a curious creature (never being around any sort of drug), you nodded, saying you were fine with it.

eddie thought you were odd, in a good way of course. god, he wanted you so badly..but he didnt want to scare you off. he knew how sensitive you were to certain things. so when you sat right down in front of him as he smoked, staring at him with gloriously curious doe eyes, watching him take a drag from his joint--he was surprised to say the very least.

eddie watches the way youre eyeing the joint between his plush lips as he inhales, eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you sitting across from him on his bed; kneeling on his mattress--hands folded in your lap politely n ur eyes full of wonder but hesitancy as u chew on ur lower lip. you watch the metalhead blow the smoke from his mouth, an arm behind his head as he lies back against his pillows.

"you wanna try?" he asks, holding the joint out to you as he blows the smoke up in the air. he can feel the way your eyes trace his movements.

you giggle nervously, flustered. "o-oh, uhm, i dunno.. 've never tried such things before!"

thats something else eddie loved about you.

when you got shy you talked like some sort of disney princess.

he smirks, amused. his eyes are half lidded n red as he swipes his tongue along the fat of his bottom lip.

"c'mon.." his voice is playful. "'see the way ur eyein' it, princess.. i'll help you through it, dont worry." eddie takes a small drag from the end of his blunt once more.

fuck, hes so high. and horny. high and horny. maybe not the greatest combo when the girl he's liked for years is sitting right in front of him looking so..soft and beautiful.

does ur skin always glow this vibrantly?

"i just--'ve never done stuff like this. what if i act funny?" your lips form into a pout, concern lacing in ur features.

why did you have to be so cute and irresistable?

"'s okay, angel. promise i wont judge..could never judge a sweet girl like you," his praise makes you preen as you blush. "c'mon, come sit next to me, ill talk ya through it, mk?"

you nod, butterflies fluttering in ur tummy. besides the heavy smell of weed, eddie smelled so yummy to you. he was addicting to be around.

you sat next to him on his bed, pulling ur skirt down a bit as you get comfortable.

"now, just put ur lips around the end and inhale, okay? u might cough a bit but it'll go away," eddie brings the lit joint to ur glossed lips as ur eyes round with inexperience. the metalhead maintains eye contact with u as u inhale sharply, immediately bending forward and coughing as he pats ur back. "'s okay, princess, ur okay.." his ringed fingers rub ur back as u struggle to breathe.

a few seconds pass and u feel better. ur head is light but heavy.

"wanna try again? should've probably told u to inhale slowly..forget u dont know much about this stuff." he tucks a loose strand of hair behind ur ear and u feel ur heart speed.

u nod. "yes, please!"

eddie smiles gently at your eagerness. "alright, sweet girl, remember..nice n easy, okay? inhale gently and slowly."

you nod a bit as he brings the joint to ur lips. his left hand rubs up and down your right arm comfortingly. that act alone makes the butterflies that once only fluttered inside ur belly swirl into a storm.

eddie watches ur lips as u inhale slowly.

"good, baby.. nice n easy, okay? doin' so good.." his voice is so soft and gentle as he tenderly squeezes ur arm as u blow the smoke from ur lips.

u giggle when done, clapping excitedly before you're hit with a wave of tranquility.

eddie smiles. "u okay, honey?"

u smile back.

u were more than okay.

[raccoonfallsharder]

hii! i just wanted to say i love your blog sm. your fics are amazing and your fanart as well😩 your work has such a good emotional depth that’s so nice to read/see. you have a way like the movies did of showing the attention to detail with their worlds and other worldly cultures and shit it’s so interesting to read <3. i didn’t know if your taking requests but this was just a random thought that would be so cool to see you write. no pressure ofc but i thought it’d be so cool to see rocket more introduced to like more music/Terran pop culture references😭. i feel like rocket would like goth music like the cure and shit and tbh lady gaga i feel like also😭😭. it’s so cute to think of him getting shown like classic horror and stuff, he’d probably think a lot of them as comedies or shit😭. i jsut had these thoughts to share lol. your writing has me daydreaming i swear <3. i hope you are having a good day <33 : D

you are absolutely the sweetest little bundle of love nonnie. cups of tea, midnight bonfires, and golden autumn leaves. that's you. thank you so much for the kind words. they truly made my last two weeks. and i'm so sorry for the delay - the start of the schoolyear has been kicking my ass to knowhere and back, and then this… got away from me. it’s really unforgivably fucken long for mostly just being a list ~

but i hope you enjoy it anyway ♡♡

oh btw i linked some related headcanons that might interest you at the end!

to be honest i don't think i go through a single commute to or from work without thinking about how rocket would respond to the latest bit of terran culture you're showing him. when he was spending time on terra during the snap, he noticed steve’s little pocket-journal checklist of movies and books and shows to get caught up on. well, he didn’t just notice it — he might’ve maybe possibly swiped it — and once he trusted you enough to know you weren’t gonna fuckin narc on him, he decided to show it to you. he asks questions about the various titles, and steve’s notes scrawled in the margins. the two of you started there.

rocket isn’t quite as prejudiced against actors as many of his fellow guardians, but he does approach the idea of movies and tv with a healthy dose of skepticism. you probably start out with some documentaries, and he loves those. he’s enthralled by the ones about outer space — appreciating what they’ve gotten right and snickering about what they got wrong, getting a little weepy when the narrator makes some poignant philosophical observation. he stares at the screen with something that wrenches at your heart when you turn on the nature docs, those cut-ruby eyes turning into something soft and molten, silvered over with a yearning you’re sure he doesn’t even recognize inside himself.

you might think he’d be a fan of true crime, but no — not unless it’s someone scamming a big corporation or stealing from some hubristic rich bastard, or maybe the occasional murderer who accidentally confesses his crimes on a hot mic. the truth is that rocket’s already personally familiar with some of the worst true crime in the galaxy and he just sort of assumes that’s how things operate at large. why’s he need to watch people talk about?

it’s this kind of thinking that impacts the kind of fictional shows and movies he ends up liking, too — once you finally convince him that acting is more about storytelling, and less about lying or trying to wear someone else’s skin. you’d think he’d be super-into horror but he’s very — selective about it. murderers, slashers, and body horror (especially of the medical variety) are not in his wheelhouse. he gets anxious in the worst sort of way: impatiently twitching on the couch next to you, chewing on his claws. he rolls his eyes but his shoulders stay tense and his tail is puffs up three times it’s normal size. he might occasionally snort and scoff at how fake things look but again, that’s only because he knows.

and he wishes he didn’t.

supernatural horror is much more palatable to him, and alien-based horror is usually hilarious as far as he’s concerned. space dramas and adventures have an unpredictable impact. he says star wars is too dramatic (wild coming from someone who has since decided he loves reality dating shows) and gets weirdly emotional about star trek. and you have to repeatedly remind him that neither the aliens franchise nor killer clowns from outer space are documentary series (he has some weird hang-ups about terran clowns and will dryly tell you that he’s pretty sure they’ve tried to kill him in another life). he’s extremely and overly fascinated by some of the weirder terran horror and horror-adjacent media: cult classics from the 80s and 90s, Tales from the Crypt, Twilight Zone — some of those weird old fantasy movies too, like the labyrinth and company of wolves. you always indulge him, trying to remind him of what’s fiction and what’s not, and what loosely straddles the line of being based on a true story (even though sometimes you have to fight with the urge to roll your eyes when he points at the screen and says, no, that’s real, i been to a planet like that!).

you learn he has an uncanny eye for CGI. looks weird, he grunts every time something rendered crosses the screen. very into practical effects, though. he spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make a claymation sequence of the collapse of ego — the living planet, that is; not some great philosophical metaphor — and took over your kitchen for two months to do it. you’d expected him to get bored of it quickly, but you’d misunderstood just how fixated he’d been. he’d stopped taking pete’s comms for the entire last three weeks and had barely slept at all till it had been done.

he’s equally selective about games. classic shooters bore him — why bother when you can go do the real thing with any despot-of-the-week? — but he kind of loves cozy games. he enjoys horror games as long as they follow his horror movie rules, too — minimal lifeform-on-lifeform torture, heavy on the supernatural or other weirdness. poppy’s playtime is a current fave. he loves dnd, of course. once he figures out the mechanics he always wants to dm because he’s got more control issues than a freighter full of ravagers, but you haven’t missed the fact that that he’s got a recurring favorite character that he pulls out regardless of which side of the dm screen he’s on — a shockingly wise and kind aquatic sorceress named lylla, with the gentlest healing vibes. it rattles you the first time he plays her — so at odds with his normal snark — but you decide it’s just his way of letting his soft side shine through when he normally tries to hide it under prickly defensiveness.

it might surprise you (or maybe not), but he’s far less picky about music, to be honest. sure, he’s got preferences — certain songs he’ll play on repeat, or jam out to, or weep over. but he’s just as excited to clone a taylor swift record as he is to get his hands on some iron maiden. he’s got something surprisingly positive to say about every single song you ask after.

that one’s real catchy, he’ll say, bopping along to dolly’s 9 to 5 — only to then croon his way through the lingering notes of jolene. then the next time you see him he’s asking how he can secure more tupac albums.

he gets all teary-eyed over the sweeping strings of sometime around midnight, then later tilts his head, ears flickering, to drink in the light starlit notes of single acoustic guitars and lonely pianos. he’s as greedy for 90s grunge as he is for screamo and post-rock. sometimes he steals your phone and it’s usually just to download a nirvana album you once had him listen to, but just last week you realize he’d blown a sizable portion of your grocery budget by buying the entire babymetal discography.

he explains it to you one late autumn evening when you’re in your room with him, introducing him to seventeen seconds. the two of you are just chilling. he’s traded in his jumpsuit for the kids’ sweatpants and the hoodie you bought him — the one with the ears — and of course you very wisely don’t tell him how stupidly cute it is. the sun’s going down and the room is slanting and pooling with blue-and-gold shadows slowly deepening into purple, and you’ve lit a couple caramel-apple candles for the vibe. maybe you’ve got mugs of warm spiced apple cider or cocoa or something. he’s sprawled on the rug on your floor and you’re leaning over the edge of the bed, with the entire musical archive of the cure, woven liberally with a random joy division album, some merciful nuns, and other collections from your personal library of favorites.

he’s super-into it, of course.

this sound is somethin’ else, he tells you as he stares up at the shadows. The candlelight is reflecting off some unknown surface in your room, casting flecks of fractured light across the deepening dark of the ceiling. his blunted claws tap a steady rhythm on the floor beside him.

you say that about every song, you tell him drily, and he shrugs.

but i mean it, he tells you in the gold-flickering darkness. there’s a long silence, and you think he’s just listening to the music — but halfway through dope, he suddenly breaks his silence.

i ain’t exactly the most emotionalistically-intelligent, he says quietly into the room. don’t trust myself to know when someone’s good or bad. there was a guy, when i was a kid — well. anyway. it’s frickin hard to trust anybody, myself most of all.

you wait to see if he’ll go on — but he doesn’t. at least not till you say, i get that. there’s good people out there, but the worst are usually so good at tricking us. and then it’s easy to second-guess ourselves — forever.

from the corner of your eye, you see him nod emphatically.

not in music, though, he says quietly. you hear him swallow — painfully hard. i think — music’s when people tell you most about what they are. even when it’s hard to understand at first. when there ain’t any words.

you tilt your head, allowing him the privacy of not looking directly at him. instead, you study the flickering candlelight and shadow, painting amber and dark-velvet patterns on the ceiling. that’s why you like every song? you ask at last.

that swallow again, hard as a rock in his throat. i dunno. maybe it means something, when someone gives a part of ‘emselves like that. to you — a stranger. just — serve themselves up like a gift for your judgement.

ah, you think. the vulnerability.

as if he’d heard you, he snorts. me personally? i’d never risk it.

even now, you can feel him watching you uneasily from the corner of his eye — waiting for you to mock him, maybe. but you only hum an agreeable note.

i never thought of it that way, you admit, but it’s true. you smile at the ceiling. and you said you weren’t emotionally intelligent.

he huffs, but the sound is more relieved than annoyed. i ain’t, he snipes. and then — more tentatively — maybe that’s part of it too.

you feel your eyebrows raise, but you still don’t look his way — cradling the back of your head with your hands while the music continues in around you, and smell of warm caramel apples fills the soft shadows between you. what do you mean?

softer now — almost nervous — he confesses to the darkness and the gold light and the sound of lady gaga’s voice. every time i listen to a new song, s’like I find something in myself i didn’t have before. or didn’t know i had before. or that i thought had died.

your heart stills in your chest and your breath catches, and everything in you suddenly aches. before you can say a word — before you can think — he spits a scoff into the air.

never mind. i was kidding. that’s fuckin’ stupid—

no, you interrupt quickly, and it takes everything in you not to turn over and catch his eyes and hold them. not to reach out and hold his hands, because you know he’s not willing to accept that level of comfort.

not yet. but soon.

so instead, you make your voice into the softest thing you’ve ever imagined. no sharp edges, no corners to cut himself on. just downy well-worn blankets and soft crumpled love-notes, happy welcome homes and the warm caramel of autumn apples. you will it go wrap around him and give him all the comfort he won’t let himself accept any other way.

no, you repeat. i get that.

i get that.

headcanons & imagines masterlist | navigation | fanfiction masterlist

related headcanons: rocket's movie & television tastes ✶ what if rocket finds the mcu movies? ✶ music and rocket & adam, pete & jason ✶ rocket & coloring ✶ rocket & origami ✶ rocket & lava lamps ✶ rocket & sudoku, crosswords & word-searches ✶ rocket & hanayama puzzles ✶ rocket sings

raccoon & star dividers by @/thecutestgrotto support banners by @/saradika-graphics

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 7: Candlelight

Summary: Ghost spends the night

Author's note: Before I do anything more, a special thank you to @onomatobooyah for mentioning my fic to someone else! When I got the notification that I was tagged in a comment I thought "Oh boy another p*rn bot" and cried for a good 5 minutes when I realized what it was 😭

word count: 4.4k

If this is the first time you're seeing this, Chapter 1 is here. You can find the rest on my masterlist!

Next chapter is here!

Content Warning: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+, fluff, mentions of mental health, mild violence

Ghost stood under the stream of lukewarm water coming from the showerhead above his tilted head. Anymore cold and he might as well stand outside beneath the endless rain. He could hear a staccato cadence of footsteps climbing the stairs while he peeled off his rain-drenched clothes that clung to his skin, followed by the thud of a door closing. He felt confined in a house that provided ample distance and space for the both of them and her furry companion. Still, being able to hear her movements on the second floor made him feel like he was still too close.

-----

Andra came out of her own shower shivering. She had read that ice-cold shock baths help regulate the nervous system and, in some cases, improve a person’s anxiety levels. Well, she didn’t have a tub of ice to submerge herself in, so a shower on the coldest setting she could handle would have to do.

Still, the crewneck two sizes too big felt too tight against her skin, her sweatpants stuck to her legs and her toes felt numb from the cold. She sat at the edge of her bed for a few minutes while she warmed up and towel dried her hair. The swipe of Sammy’s tongue against Andra’s hand startled her out of her frazzled thoughts, and she gave Sammy a loving rub to the underside of her maw.

“Crap.” Andra realized Ghost’s jacket was leaving a damp spot on her duvet to the right of her. She got up, abandoning the towel on her chaise lounge and decided to take it downstairs to let it dry on the coat rack by the front door.

The stairs creaked with two different patterns of feet as she walked down in a pair of fuzzy, black socks, just in time to catch Ghost walking out of the bathroom.

There’s no way it went unnoticed with how her eyes practically did a pat down like she was airport security. He had more tattoos on his right leg, a sight only possible due to his basketball shorts. His gray PT shirt with the name ‘RILEY’ across his shoulder blades was just as tight on him as the sopping wet shirt he had on beforehand, all accompanied with his trademark skull balaclava.

Say something, for the love of all gods. “Was the water pressure okay?” Andra was ready for lightning to take her out. If a god exists, it’ll strike me down now.

His eyes squinted from a grin. “Solid.” Ghost reached out for the jacket draped over her arm. “I can take that for you.”

Andra looked down at it before handing it over. “I was going to hang it up so it could dry. Oh, did you happen to put your wet clothes in the wash? It’s behind the sliding door in the bathroom.” She was rambling at this point to diffuse the nerves knotting her stomach.

Ghost looked to the darkened bathroom. “No, I’ll go ahead and do that.”

“I’ll warm up some water on the kettle and grab us some food.” Andra walked past him and headed for the kitchen, Sammy in tow. Ghost’s heavy footsteps made his announcement, joining her in the kitchen. “Do you have any dietary restrictions? I have leftover pot roast from yesterday with some white rice.”

“No, I’ll have what you’re havin’.” Ghost opened the refrigerator door. “Is it this container?” He pointed to the big plastic Tupperware container on the second shelf.

Andra glanced over. “Oh yeah, don’t worry about it, you can sit down and give your feet a rest.”

“Let me do something, doll.” Ghost shut the fridge door and started searching cabinets. There he goes again calling her that; a heat simmered in her lower belly from the way he said it. Andra crouched down to the cabinet in front of her and pulled out a pot. “Here, you can reheat it in here.”

The two of them prepared the leftover meal together, working in tandem as Ghost explores the layout of the kitchen. He opened a cupboard and let out a breathy chuckle. “You have every kind of tea imaginable in here.”

“I like having variety.” Andra reaches for the box labeled with the flavor honey vanilla chamomile. “Take your pick.”

With the kettle boiling, Andra retrieves two mugs, plopping her tea bag in one of them with the string hanging off the side. Ghost reaches for the kettle before she can and pours for both of them.

He was close enough for Andra to detect the scent of his bodywash. The kitchen had never felt smaller before.

“Storm’s bad enough out there to cause a power outage.” Ghost broke the palpable silence as he peered out the window above the kitchen sink. There was still a lightning show going on out there.

Andra started pulling out bowls and utensils for the food. “If it does, I have plenty of candles in the hallway closet.” She brought over the servings of pot roast to the little dinette set in the nook beside the kitchen. They sat down together across from one another, the sound of torrential rain waterfalling on the farmhouse overtaking the silence. It was enough to create its own background noise, like a sleep soundtrack Andra sometimes listens to.

At the same time, the two of them stretched out their legs beneath the table, and upon feeling one another, Ghost jolted back in retreat as if she was a bolt of lightning. They exchanged glances, their eyes communicating a non-verbal apology.

Andra shamefully watched Ghost fist the fabric of his balaclava at his neck and bring it up over his mouth, stopping at the tip of his nose. She had caught a glimpse of his face earlier in the day, but now she was taking in the features that have always been hidden from her.

Wholly chiseled jawline, batman… Andra dipped her head in an attempt to focus on the food in front of her, but her eyes flicked back up while he started to dig in. The parts of his face she could see had a five o-clock shadow of stubble ready to grow, will most likely be there by the morning, his chin was dimpled – gods, save her – and a white scar slashed through the right side of his mouth. There was another scar on the side of his left cheek that disappeared underneath the fabric of his mask.

Andra was no better than a Victorian-age man peeping his first ankle. No one’s facial movements and features have been so interesting before until now. She had to memorize what she could see in fear that it would be the first and last time she’d ever see any part of him again.

“Did you learn how to cook on your own?” Ghost asked, seemingly oblivious to Andra’s ogling eyes.

His timbre voice made Andra drop her spoon in her bowl with a clang as she looked away. The first instinct screamed at her to ask about his scars, but she was thankful for the opportunity to veer her thoughts away from anything other than his marble-carved jawline. “My grandmother when she was still alive, and my dad, and whatever recipes I find online.” Her jittery fingers recovered her fork from the bowl. “Do you cook?”

Ghost wipes his mouth with a napkin, muffling a laugh. “Hardly. I cook simple meals just to meet macros and protein intake, so it’s nice tasting something with flavor for once.”

Andra thought of something else as she swallowed her last bite. “You spent a lot of time in the chow hall, I’m assuming, when you were active duty?”

He sat up straight with a head tilt as his gaze focused elsewhere, recalling years and years of memories. “When I first joined the Royal Air Force, yeah. Then I trained to join the SAS boys, and when I was assigned to task forces, we would take turns cooking meals every evening. Soap - Johnny can’t cook for shit,” Andra smiled like she already knew that, “Gaz was the better one out of all of us.”

Her eyebrow twitched at the name; she heard Johnny talk about Gaz before, but it wasn’t coming to her. “Do you keep in touch with anyone else other than Johnny?”

“Yeah, a few of us catch up a few times outta the year when our schedules align.” His relaxed posture had Andra softly smiling. His legs had stretched out once more, accepting the gentle brush against her foot, then her leg.

She was doing something right today, and it was chasing away her own butterflies and the anxiety the storm had initially created. The thunder wasn’t as frequent, but the rain continued to trickle down the nearest window Andra could see.

Sammy was laying right beside Ghost’s chair, resting her empty head on her paws in a peaceful snooze.

The moment the both of them got up to start cleaning up, she got up as well and wagged her tail in hopes that she would be getting scraps. Ghost looked to Andra, mask concealing him once more, and reached out for her bowl. “I’m cleanin’ up.”

Ghost said it like a declaration that she was not going to change, so she bashfully handed her dish over. “Alright, baby, there’s a little bit left for you.” She scraped the bottom of the pot into Sammy’s dog bowl, her tail smacking Andra’s foot with rapid speed as she sat patiently. “Go ahead.”

Sammy helped herself while Andra brought the last dirty dish to the sink where Ghost was scrubbing at the bowls and tea mugs. The evening was still young; Andra racked her mind for an idea of what they should do with the rest of their time before going to sleep.

After cleaning up, they all relocated to the living room. Ghost paced leisurely around the walkways of the room. He was observing the Halloween decorations adorning the walls, the shelves, and the coffee table. “You’re ready for the holiday, I see.”

“Where people decorate for Christmas right at the beginning of November, I decorate for Halloween on August first.” It was Andra’s tradition, one that she never had the pleasure of showing to others since there weren’t opportunities for hosting at her house. “I hit the costume stores as soon as they open every year, and whatever I find is added to my obscene amount of Halloween decorations I have.”

Ghost picked up the skull-shaped amethyst crystal on one of the shelves, weighing it in his palm. “You could take someone out with this, Christ.” Ghost gently placed it back down and walked back to where he left his bag sitting beside the couch. He picked it up and started rummaging through it. “I threw our books in here before running inside.

Andra’s eyes lit up and accepted the book Ghost chose from his warm hands. “I’m glad you did! I wanted to start reading it tonight.” In truth, she couldn’t think of anything better than buddy reading with Ghost. Yeah, her weekend evenings were a riot.

Ghost sat on one end of the couch, Sammy sat beside him and did two twirls before plopping down. Andra took up the opposite side, curling her legs beneath her and placed a torch light she pulled out of a utility drawer from the kitchen in case the lights did happen to go out. She opened the book up to the author’s note page.

Changes were made to the text in order to protect the work of a unit which continues to play a key role in the fight against terrorism.

“Oh shit.” Andra whispered to herself. Ghost picked an anecdotal story. She looked at the front cover once more to see the author’s name to keep it in the forefront of her thoughts while she reads.

Ghost shifted on the couch cushions, making himself comfortable as he held the book in one hand, his thumb splaying the pages apart. The fabric of his mask made it difficult for Andra to get a peek at his expression, but from what she could tell he was settling into the read as much as she was about to.

They read for what felt like a few hours. Andra shifted every now and then to try and find a new position to get comfortable, as all readers do. Ghost was as still as a statue, the only movement from him was the flip of a page every few minutes. Andra tried peering over to see where he was in the story, only catching a glimpse of the page number if she squinted ever so. A furry German Shepherd was keeping her from getting any closer. Sammy even had the audacity to perch her head on Ghost’s thigh.

Girl, if you only knew how lucky you are.

It’s like her canine companion knew her thoughts; her tail started to tickle Andra’s arm with its little flutters.

With Ghost’s free hand, he rubbed Sammy’s coat along her side before resting his arm on the back of the couch, his hand sitting right behind Andra’s head.

She rolled her lips between her teeth and inhaled through her nose. What were the last three paragraphs about? She retained nothing, even though she swore she read the same sentence three times over.

VRRT-VRRT. Andra’s phone vibrated against the wooden top of the coffee table. Her face immediately heated when she saw who the message was from. On a social media messenger no less since anyone overseas could only communicate with her that way.

Isabella: Andrew made bail, we don’t need your help.

Andra couldn’t roll her eyes hard enough. Her eyes traveled to the time in the upper lefthand corner of the screen. “Hey, it’s already eight.” She turned her head to look at Ghost, and Sammy crawled off the couch with a big stretch. “I usually go to bed in the next thirty minutes, want me to set up the pullout couch for you?”

Ghost was about to dog ear the page he left off on, but Andra quickly handed him one of her bookmarks that sat on her coffee table for instances like these. She knew this would come in handy. He slid the bookmark between the pages and set the book on top of hers. “Sure, I’ll move the table aside.”

Andra got up and shuffled to the hallway closet to retrieve the spare pillow and blanket for her guests. She could hear the scuffing movement of the coffee table being moved across the floor. As she was closing the door, Ghost came to retrieve the items in her hands when the lights began to flicker. Then completely went out.

A flash of lightning lit up the entire house for half a second.

The shatter of breaking glass was loud in her ears.

It had both of them dropping to the floor, a hand muffled the scream Andra let out. Sammy barked in a panic, rushing to Andra and Ghost. She breathed heavily from her nose, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. The onset of hyperventilation.

Ghost’s soft shushes got through to her, his hand moved from her mouth and brushed her hair. “Stay here.”

Andra could feel an absence in front of her; Ghost wasn’t there anymore, but Sammy was beside her, licking her to calm both of them down.

She could hear the sound of a zipper being pulled, the rustle of Ghost removing something from his bag. A weapon? A gun? It made the most sense in her mind. Another flash of lightning went off, long enough for her to see Ghost crouched in front of the couch, a pistol in one hand and a torch crossed over in the other. A soldier – no, a warrior - taking stance like he’s never forgotten his days and nights in service.

A wave of security washed over her. She was coming down from the fear and anxiety, her mind beginning to rationalize that she was safe from whatever had happened.

Was there something out there? No, it was just the force of lightning that broke the window, wasn’t it? She was in the safety of her farmhouse, where no one could possibly get to them. The road was obstructed by a fallen tree.

The light of Ghost’s torch startled her. His pistol was pointed downwards to the ground, finger away from the trigger. “A rock broke through your kitchen window.”

A rock? Andra got up onto her feet, the closer she got to Ghost the clearer she could see him. His shirt was a darker shade of gray, as if it got wet. He went outside. Shit… she didn’t even hear his movements, or the door opening.

“How big of a rock are we talking about?” Ghost led her to the kitchen. It had to be pretty fucking big for it to have –

Wholly shit.

It was about as big as half of a brick. The kind of rock that people throw into windows with notes attached to them to let them know they were on someone’s list. Her eyes bugged wide.

“The storm picked that up?” Andra was trying to rationalize it in her head. Or maybe a strike of lighting hit the ground and sent it flying into her window…

Ghost shook his head. “There’s no way. It’s got weight to it.” He stepped around the broken glass and kicked it, sending it sliding across the tiled floor. It hit the wall beside the back door a little harder than she expected.

She let out a nervous scoff. “No one would be crazy enough to be out in this storm just to be pulling pranks, especially all the way out here. Even so, the road’s blocked.”

His silence brought her no reassurance. He started to look for something to patch up the window, the torch sitting on the table facing up to light up the room. He pulled out one of her kitchen trash bags and used a pocketknife to cut down its seams. “That won’t stop someone from getting out here.”

Andra wished he had just stayed quiet instead. “What are you trying to say?” Her heart was racing in her chest, and her fingertips tingled.

“Let’s get this covered first.” Ghost avoided her question and held the cut out bag up to the window. “We need to tape this.”

“Okay.” Andra pulled the roll of duct tape out of the utility drawer and started to unravel piece after piece. Once the makeshift cover was secured over the broken window, Andra started sweeping up the broken glass. It was a miracle none of the shards punctured her socks, still, to play it safe she discarded the pair into the bin with the dustpan of broken glass.

Andra lit a few candles in the living room to give them some light. Ghost sat there with his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes reflecting a storm as ravenous as the one outside.

“Why do you think someone threw a rock into my window?” Andra sat on the edge of the coffee table.

He finally looked to her. “That day we went into the woods, I spotted a group’s worth of footprints off the beaten path we were on.”

She waited for him to continue his explanation, but it didn’t stop her from theorizing scenarios.

Ghost’s hands clenched into fists. “And lately, a car with stolen license plates have been driving down the road several times in the past few months.”

Her insides went cold, she was glad she was already sitting down. “Wait, you knew about this for months and now you’ve decided to tell me?”

His eyes softened with guilt. “I had every intention of telling you about the first incident at a later time, I just never got the chance –“

“Because you cut me off.”

The silence was so loud, she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. “Yeah.”

Anger and something like betrayal was churning in her chest. It had her gnawing on the inside of her cheeks. She didn’t want to be angry with him, not after she just got him back. Her tongue swiped her lower lip to get rid of the dryness bothering her. “Do you suspect someone is after me? Or you?” She failed to hold back the implicating tone in her voice.

Andra was afraid to look away from Ghost’s stare, afraid that he was going to detect her fear. He was good, and it didn’t surprise her. Ghost straightened himself and rolled his shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. “Are you worried that someone might be after you?”

Fuck. Her mouth opened then closed once more before answering. “There were people who had beef with me, but they wouldn’t go out of their way to track me down.”

Andra felt like throwing up. It wasn’t a lie, she wouldn’t lie to Ghost. But what about him? He wasn’t being very forthcoming with her, either. In fact, he evaded her question and turned it back around on her. “I asked if you think someone was after you, and you didn’t answer.”

Now it was his turn to freeze up on her. His shoulders became tense. “I don’t know.”

Her eyebrows went up. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

Andra flinched. Regret glazed his eyes for how bitter that answer came out. Ghost sighed, bowing his head to avoid her wounded gaze. It wasn’t the first time she’s heard him shut down the conversation before, the first time being about his family. There was a wall between them when it came to his past, but his was far thicker and higher than hers.

She had no right pushing him for answers while she concealed her own secrets as well.

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

Her heart ached. No, not again. He was distancing himself, but this time it was from pre-conceived notions that the both of them had no clue was true. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond. Her words were stuck in her throat. So, she swallowed with a head nod and went upstairs.

-----

Andra snoozed her alarm twice. Sleep evaded her for majority of the night, and when she thought it finally came, the power came back on around three in the morning. With a disgruntled groan, she turned the lights off and laid in the dark of her room.

Now she was struggling to get out of bed with hardly any rest. She had to get ready; Johnny already sent his usual ‘on the way’ message, so he was going to be met with the obstacle of the fallen tree. She had thrown on a black and white flannel and an unwashed pair of jeans, brushed her teeth and threw her hair up in a tie.

The living room was empty by the time she came downstairs. The foldout couch was put away, the blanket folded neatly with the pillow sitting on top. She checked to see if the makeshift cover on the kitchen window held up through the night, and it did. She made a mental note to herself to call her insurance. Should she make a police report as well? It was probably a good idea to see if there were any signs of a person being out there first.

Ghost stuck to his word and was out of the house first thing.

-----

Something was off with Andra, Johnny could detect it in the way she forced a smile every time she talked to a customer. It faded once no one was around. She was quiet with him and shook her head with an unsatisfied sound coming from her when she checked her phone.

“You’re off today, lass.” Johnny started. “I figured after the evening you had with company, you would be a wee bit chipper.”

  “I guess Ghost didn’t tell you what happened.” She slipped her phone in her back pocket and sat in her foldout chair.

Johnny leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “No.”

She was avoiding his eyes. “The day at Lyme Park was really good. Everything was super nice until a rock went and shattered my window in the kitchen.”

His head tipped up and his eyes shut for a moment. “And he panicked, I’m assuming.”

“Well, we both did.” Andra explained. “It was kind of weird how the power went out and then the rock came through the window. But he texted me just now to let me know he called up someone to go repair it and he foot the bill for me.”

Johnny nodded his head. “Typical Simon.”

Andra rubbed her forehead in frustration. “Now I feel like he’s trying to push me away again because he thinks someone did it rather than some freak accident-“

“Wait, he told you that?” Johnny stood up straight, his hands falling to his sides.

“In so many words, yeah. Then he told me that someone has been through the woods of my property, and there’s been a vehicle with mismatched plates driving down our road.”

Johnny turned away from her and pretended to prep paper bags. “That’s a new one…”

There was a beat of silence before Andra grabbed his arm to turn him back to her. “You knew about the first incident?” Oh shit, she wasn’t happy about that.

He grimaced. “Sorry, lass. He did tell me to keep a lookout when I am there and when I’m with you at the market.”

She threw her hands up in disbelief, this time she gave him her back. “Unbelievable, you men.”

“Simon didn’t want you scared about something that might not be an issue,” Johnny tried to justify. “His PTSD tends to send him into overdrive at things like this.”

“Now there’s been a new incident to add onto the list, though.” Andra started to pack up her stall now that it was noon.

Johnny grabbed the chair in her hand to make her take pause to look at him. “These coincidences aren’t incidents, we have no proof of someone bothering either you or Simon. Don’t let his anxiety get to you, it’s gonna be fine.”

Her sad eyes locked onto him, telling him that she was just as shaken up as Simon probably is. And he wanted to know what has haunted her for her to remain that way.

----------

And that is the end of Act 1! Thank you to everyone that has stuck around with me so far, and thank you to my new readers that took a chance on my fic as well! I'm going to be taking a brief break from writing to avoid burning myself out again, it won't be as long as the last time. I do intend on posting a filler chapter like I was contemplating, but I do want to give myself some time away from the keyboard and enjoy other things.

I'll be seeing y'all again soon <3

[that-random-one]

I Don't Believe You

Kaminari Denki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Implied Cheating

Date Posted: 12/11/22

A/N: This was 10 pages on Google Docs, and I hated every sentence of it. Here I am, still posting it so I can look back and be deeply embarrassed about it like I do with everything else💀💀 I haven’t posted in like a year or two lmao. It’s probably gonna take me another year to post something else😭😭 Anyway, enjoy my attempt at angst.

Also there's still people following me or liking my stuff here and there and I get so confused when I see it😭💀 Like I'm judging you so hard cause some of that stuff be making me cringe😭😭 I love you tho cause you put yourself through that and still decide to show that you liked it💀💀

You huffed, glaring at Denki, who was obviously lying, "I don't believe you."

"Well, you should, Babe. Trust is a good thing to have in a relationship," Denki said matter-of-factly.

"Sorry if I'm not trusting you right now when you're lying to me," You irritatedly muttered while glaring at Denki.

Denki faked a gasp pretending to be offended, "My dear, sweet, absolutely drop fucking dead gorgeous, Y/n, you don't believe me?! I feel betrayed. Take it back and say you love me. I might forgive you then."

You felt your eyebrow twitch, "You realize that I know you're lying because you have crumbs all over your face and clothes, right? I'm not blind."

Denki looked down at his sweatshirt that, as you said, had crumbs all over it. He wiped his face with his sleeve and gave you a nervous smile.

"Sorry?"

You decided that having Denki get you more of your food is an acceptable apology, "Buy me more, and I'll let you sleep on the bed tonight."

Denki knew you were lying about you not letting him not sleep on the bed. You would never admit it, but without him, you wouldn't be able to sleep. If you did manage to fall asleep, it would be out of pure exhaustion, and you wouldn't sleep well anyways. He knows it's selfish, but he can't help but be happy that you can't sleep without him. It makes him feel like no matter what, he's needed. He felt guilty for eating your food. So, of course, he's going to get you more.

"Gladly," He stood up and shook the crumbs off his sweatshirt. He walked over and kissed your forehead.

Just as he turned to leave, you stopped him, "Hang on, you overgrown man child," you walked closer to Denki and swiped your thumb across his lip, "You missed a spot."

Denki giggled and grabbed your hand. He pulled you to the door without much resistance. There was no way he was going to the store alone when he could spend those valuable minutes soaking up your presence.

~~~~~~~~~

"Denki. Don't you dare," You warned.

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about," He feigned innocence. He adjusted the grip on his water balloon.

Everyone was surprisingly off today from their hero duties. And by everyone, you mean the Bakusquad. You all planned on hanging out and relaxing on your shared day off. It was going well until Mina and Denki showed up with buckets filled with water balloons and threw one at Bakugou's head. It exploded on impact, and even though the ash blonde had mellowed out since high school, his temper was still unleashed.

This started a water balloon fight, and currently, you have run out of water balloons to throw. Denki, on the other hand, had one in each hand.

You have been lucky and haven't gotten hit yet. You didn't feel like being soaked in water, so your dodging skills were at their max. Unfortunately, Denki pushed you into a corner, and you couldn't escape.

"Please?" You offered, hoping it would convince him not to throw the water balloon at you.

Denki let out a small laugh, "Nope."

He threw the balloon at you, making you gasp from the sudden coldness. A giant wet spot was formed where you were hit, and you felt your shirt start to stick to you. You immediately scrunched up your nose in discomfort. You knew asking him not to do it would be a long shot, but at least you could say you tried. Kind of.

"Babe, don't make that face. You're making me feel bad," Denki pouted at the uncomfortable expression you wore.

"Good. I hope you feel bad. Now I'm cold because of you," You stuck your tongue out at him. He knew you weren't actually mad at him. Annoyed? Definitely. Mad? No.

That's when you felt something whack your face. It was soft, warm, and a little damp. When you inhaled, you smelled Denki's signature cologne. It wasn't too strong that it made your nose burn, but not too weak that you couldn't smell it. It was your favorite cologne of his. Even after all these years, it still makes your heart flutter.

You pulled the hoodie away from your face and put it on. You looked up at Denki to say 'thanks' but saw that he was slightly blushing. 

"Ya know, I love when you wear my clothes, right?"

"It's been mentioned before."

"Oh. Well, I'll tell you again. I love you in my clothes. You look so adorable, and I just wanna cuddle you all day," Denki pulled you into his arms and started waddling backward with you, away from all the chaos.

You both forgot that you were in the middle of a water war and jumped when you were hit with a water balloon courtesy of Mina.

"You guys are so adorable, it's disgusting, and I hate it," She playfully glared at the two of you. 

"Oh, you don't even get to talk. Last time I checked, you and a certain redhead were just as disgustingly adorable," You shot a playful glare back at her.

"Touche," Mina quickly ran off to her next target.

"Aw, man. Now your sweater is wetter than before," you pouted at Denki. He threw his head back and let out a laugh that you could feel vibrating from his chest. When he finally calmed down, he gave you a sweet peck on the lips and dragged you back into the water balloon fight with him.

~~~~~~~

You unlocked the door leading into your shared apartment with Denki. You had just finished your shift, and you were tired. You were ready to go to your bed and never wake up again.

You opened the door and walked inside. You went through all the motions of getting ready for bed on autopilot. When you finally came to, you were walking into the kitchen. You decided eating before going to bed might be a good idea.

After eating, you wandered into your bedroom. You paused at what you saw, or more like, what you didn't see. Denki wasn't in your shared bed sleeping or on his phone.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Where is he? Well, you did show up later than usual. Denki always got off a few hours before you, but it also meant he started a few hours before you. 

He was probably at Sero's house hanging out with him or sleeping. He probably got bored waiting for you to get home or was too tired to get himself back home, so he went there and lost track of time. He and Sero have the same work schedule, so it's not unusual.

You sighed and climbed under your blankets. Thankfully, you were exhausted, so you could fall asleep without needing Denki. Still, that didn't stop the cold, empty feeling in the pit of your stomach from not having him hold you.

~~~~~~~

“Hey, you've reached Kaminari Denki's phone. I'll get back to you when I can,” You sighed after hearing the beginning of Denki's voicemail again. 

“Wow, listen to him. He sounds so grown up,” You could hear Mina in the background pitch in. 

“I am a grown-up, Mina! I can take care of myself perfectly fine,” Denki whined. 

“Barely. You'd die within a few weeks if Y/n wasn't there to take care of you,” You never fail to snort at the jab Bakugou makes at your boyfriend. 

“Whatever. Leave a message at the beep.“

Then right before the message ends, you can hear Mina in the background. “Beeeeeeeep.”

"Hey, Denks. It's me... Again. Sorry to bug you even more than I already have, but I'm wondering when you're coming home. I know it's your day off, so you're probably with Sero, but I managed to get off a few hours early from my shift. I wanted to spend some time together. I want to see you. Honestly, it feels like it's been forever since we've actually talked to each other. Anyways, I think I'm rambling now. Call me back, please. I love you."

You ended the voicemail before you continued to ramble on. Denki had always been out while you were home, whether he was with his friends or at work. It was always the same the other way around when he was home.

It's not like you expected him to sit at home and wait for you, but he's been out more recently. You gnawed on your lip as thoughts raced through your mind. You got up from the couch that you and Denki picked out together. 

You remember that day vividly. You had just rented out the apartment and had no furniture. Only a mattress, lying in the middle of the master bedroom since you both were too lazy to move anywhere else. You both haven't had enough time to go furniture shopping. When you finally got a shared day off, Denki dragged you to different furniture stores, excited to finally have a shared living space for only the both of you.

You spent the day telling him that you were not buying furniture related to Pikachu. Instead, you bought matching Pikachu onesies you wore the first night in your now fully decorated apartment as you munched on some Chinese takeout.

You smiled at the memory as you flopped into your bed. Taking a nap sounded perfect to you at the moment. As you pulled the covers over yourself, you thought of more happy memories you shared with Denki. It helped you sleep better without him, but it wasn't enough to make the cold, empty feeling leave completely.

~~~~~~~

You woke up with a jolt. You had heard someone open the door to your apartment. It was barely anything, but enough to make you a bit anxious. You quickly got out of bed and opened the door leading out of your bedroom. Your Pro Hero instinct kicked in. You kept your breathing quiet and your footsteps quieter. You felt the familiar feeling of your quirk as you prepared to use it at any given moment. 

You saw that the kitchen light was on and furrowed your eyebrows. You saw a figure leaning on the counter, drinking a glass of water. You instantly knew who that figure belonged to and relaxed, your pulse steadily lowering. You looked at the clock on the microwave to check the time.

"Denki? Why are you coming home at 2 in the morning?" You gently whispered so you wouldn't scare him. Your actions went in vain as you saw him jump in surprise and whip his head in your direction.

"Ah, Y/n. You scared me." Denki let out a low chuckle at the mini heart attack he almost had. "Sorry, did I wake you up? I swear I made sure that I was quiet."

"It's fine. Where were you, though? It's not like you come home at 2 a.m. unless you have a shift. I know you had today, yesterday technically, off."

"Ah, um… I was… working. I picked up an extra shift."

You nodded in acknowledgment. You walked up to him, keeping eye contact. He looked nervous. He had a look in his eyes that said he was lying. He had the same look when he tried to throw you a surprise birthday party last year. Only this time, there was something that could only be called guilt laced in his beautiful electric eyes that you adored. What was he guilty about? Why was he lying to you in the first place?

"Yeah, I do. I'm gonna shower first, though." You heard him say quietly. You listened to the gentle clinking of his empty glass of water being set in the sink. His footsteps got quieter as they receded into the room you emerged from only a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, I do. I'm gonna shower first, though." You heard him say as he put his empty glass of water in the sink. He then left, heading into the room you emerged from only a few minutes ago.

You were thinking incorrectly, right? You're just tired from being woken up after falling asleep. It's Denki we're talking about here. There's no way. Is there? He probably just forgot to give you a kiss or a hug after coming home too.

You smelt alcohol coming from Denki. That's not it, though. You also smelt a hint of perfume. You know you don't own that perfume. It was perfume you actually hate the smell of. Maybe he was with Mina, and some of her perfume got stuck on his clothes. No, that's not it. Once when you were shopping with Mina, you remember smelling that perfume. You both hated the smell of it. She would never buy something she hated.

You couldn't stop your mind from racing. You couldn't stop your heart from beating fast. You couldn't stop your breaths from becoming shallow and irregular. You couldn't stop the lump in your throat from forming and the burning behind your eyes. And you most certainly could not have stopped from your heart breaking at the next thought your wretched mind brought you.

It's not yours or Mina's perfume, so who does that perfume belong to? He knows you're fine with him having female friends, so why did he try to hide it?

~~~~~~~

It's been weeks, and you have been a busy person. On purpose? Definitely. You've been trying to push the fact that Denki might be cheating on you so far in the back of your brain that you'll forget about it. 

It works for a while, but then you get time to think. It could be in the shower, driving, making food or coffee, or lying in bed trying to fall asleep. Denki usually wasn't there beside you sleeping, but whenever he was, it made things worse. How can someone be so close, yet so far away?

You've had a massive headache from the lack of sleep you've been suffering from. You feel like shit, but then again, what's new? 

You arrive at your apartment door and pull your key out of your pocket. You always find it interesting that you never struggle to unlock the door like others. You're never sitting in the hallway trying to get the key into the keyhole. It makes you laugh a little when you see someone struggling to get their key in the hole.

You tiredly open the door, ready to just crash. Maybe you'll get more than a few hours of sleep this time. Wow. You sound like your mother whenever she comes back from a double shift.

You step into your apartment and notice Denki's shoes at the entryway. You also notice the obnoxiously bright yellow shoes next to his. You don't move a muscle, and suddenly you're inspecting everything with your eyes and listening for any little noise.

You hear a laugh, two, actually. One is obviously Denki's laugh, a laugh that used to fill your chest with warmth and never failed to make you smile. A laugh that you now can't help but feel anxious hearing. The other laugh sounds so sweet, so kind, so gentle. Like a melody to your ears that you can't help but wish to hear again. A siren's song. You couldn't help your curiosity. You peeked your head around the corner to see Denki. You tried to look at her features, but all you could focus on was the way he smiled so brightly, looking at her. She was his world. She was the love of his life. It hurts more knowing that it used to be you on the receiving end of that smile. You feel like you're about to taste the food you barely ate today all over again.

You let out a quiet breath as you hid behind the wall again. You don't even feel like crying anymore. You've been through the grief, the anger, the tears, the guilt, and the what-ifs. You just feel hurt and tired and ready for this to be over. You slowly back up and gently close the door. There's a soft click as the door closes, but it's not loud enough for the pair inside to hear over their conversation.

You turn around, not bothering to lock the door. You slowly made your way to the elevator and hit the button, taking you to the first floor. Once you get to the lobby, you head to one of the couches and plop down on one.

You've decided you're not going to put yourself through this anymore. Once the girl with the beautiful laugh and the obnoxiously bright yellow shoes that she can probably pull off leaves, you'll head into the apartment she spent god knows how long in and pack your stuff up. 

While you wait, you'll look for another place to live. You pull out your phone and start looking around at different apps. Maybe a small house with an extra bedroom for someone to crash in. Maybe another apartment. Maybe a mansion halfway across the world. Or a one-way ticket into the fucking sun. Or maybe you could call someone you're close to and crash on their couch for a couple of days. You'll probably end up crashing with Mina for a week or two while you find a place. Or maybe you'll just become her roommate. Then again, she lives with Eiji. That would be a little weird. A smitten couple trying not to be smitten because their friend got cheated on by one of their other friends. Yeah, no, not weird at all.

You've been looking at houses, apartments, and offers from people who need a roommate for about 2 hours now. You're still sitting in the lobby waiting for the girl with the beautiful laugh and obnoxious yellow shoes to come down. You had started convincing yourself that this girl was Denki's new PR manager or his PR manager's assistant going over interviews. Or maybe she was an event planner that's helping him plan your birthday that's coming up. Five months seems a little early to start planning your birthday, though. Then again, you don't think Denki would look at his PR manager like that.

That's when you see them. They're blinding, and they demand attention. You look up at the face those obnoxiously yellow pair of shoes belong to, and your breath hitches in your throat. She's gorgeous, and it crushed any hopes of her being ugly. The way her perfectly curled brown hair falls down just past her shoulder without a strand misplaced, or the beautiful soft, lime green eyes she has. She looks around curiously and makes eye contact with your own. Anyone would fall in love seeing how she sends a soft smile and a small wave your way. You stared at her and the perfect way she walked. She has confidence. The way her perfectly shaped eyebrows lift up in surprise and her long eyelashes flutter as she notices your disinterest in her. She's used to being looked at, which makes sense. Look at her. She's practically perfect. Although the feeling of crying comes back instantly to you as she looks away from your intense gaze and speed walks off, not before pulling the sleeves from her hoodie down to cover her hands and sliding them into her pockets makes you feel like shit. Your chest tightens when you finally realize why that hoodie looked so familiar. 

It was Denki's hoodie, but not just any of his hoodies. It was the hoodie that he gave to you during the water balloon fight. It was the hoodie you slept countless nights in. It was the hoodie you bought him because he wouldn't stop talking about it when you were still just friends. It was the hoodie Denki confessed to you in and asked you to be his girlfriend. It was his favorite hoodie. It was your favorite hoodie. It was now a hoodie given to some random girl that Denki was cheating on you with. It was now her favorite hoodie too. It was now the hoodie you hated the most.

"Don't be so naive, Y/n. It's just a hoodie, after all," you muttered out loud. You got up from the chair you occupied for the last 2 hours. You took your time as you made your way back to your shared apartment. 

"Come on, Y/n. Just go in there, grab your shit, and leave. No talking necessary," you tried to hype yourself up before you went inside. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your key and unlocked the door. Denki probably locked it when he showed his new, pretty girlfriend out. You took one last deep breath and walked inside the apartment. You gently shut the door behind you and set your keys down. You keep your shoes on, knowing you'll be leaving in a bit anyway. You walk into the living room to see Denki lying on the couch, scrolling through something on his phone. You stay quiet as you ignore him and walk to your shared bedroom.

"Oh hey, Baby," Denki said as he saw you walk past him.

"Hey," you muttered and continued to walk. You held back a scoff. Baby? He probably called her that too.

Denki furrowed his eyebrows at your response. It's not like you were jumping onto him every time you saw each other, but you never dismissed him like that. You would always stop and kiss him before you did whatever you planned. Concerned, Denki followed you into your shared room. He paused when he saw you grabbing bags out of the closet and setting them on the bed.

"Umm, Y/n? What are you doing?"

You bit your lip to keep the tears that automatically activated when you heard his voice at bay. You continued opening drawers, taking your stuff out to put into the bags.

Denki was confused. Why were you acting like this? Did someone get hurt? Are you going on a trip he forgot about? Denki's anxiety grew with each second you didn't answer his questions. He finally had enough and stopped you.

"Y/n, what's going on? Is there anything I can do to help?" He tried making eye contact, but you didn't even look at him. When you finally did, he wished you didn't.

"Let go of me."

Your voice was so cold. The look in your eyes was unbothered, but he caught a glimpse of betrayal and sadness. His heart rate picked up. This was real. 

"Y/n, what happened?" Denki whispered in a shaky voice. The thought of losing you brought him to tears.

As for you, your sadness grew into anger. You couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, "You know damn well what happened, Kaminari!" You ripped your arm away from him as you turned to face him before continuing, "I have been dealing with your bullshit for months. I let you crawl into bed with me after you spent hours with some woman doing god knows what. I let you kiss me with the same lips you kissed her, and I'm sick of it. I'm done, Kaminari! I can't believe I sat in the lobby for two fucking hours just for you guys to finish your little date. You left me heartbroken and numb, and I won't stay here and feel this way anymore."

Denki looked at you with wide eyes, completely caught off guard by your rant. The words finally processed I'm his head as you continued throwing your stuff in bags. 

 "No, no, no. It's not what you think. I swear. Please, please, Y/n. Stop and listen to me," Denki's voice cracked as he begged.

You couldn't help your curiosity. You wanted to know what shit excuse he would give you, "Go ahead. Explain."

"Y/n, baby, she's been helping me plan how I was going to propose to you," Denki reached out to touch your cheek but stopped when he watched you flinch back. He felt like throwing up, but he knew he had to get it all out, "I knew that I wanted to marry you in U.A. You believed in me when everyone else just made fun of me. You're the love of my life. I wouldn't do something like that to you, I swear."

You stared at him, and you felt sick. You opened and closed your mouth. The words wouldn't come out.

"You have to believe me. Please say something," Denki had tears streaming down his face. He sniffled and held your face in his hands while he rested his forehead on yours. You both stayed there for a moment. The silence is overbearing and practically killing Denki. Denki heard you draw in a deep breath. Moths were flying in his stomach, waiting for your words 

“I don't believe you," you stepped away from Denki's hold and finished packing your last bag.

Denki couldn't do anything but watch. He watched as the woman he loved walked out of their shared bedroom with bags hanging over her shoulders. He watched as the woman he loved left her key to their shared apartment on the kitchen counter. He watched as the door clicked shut behind the woman he loved. He didn't know how long he was standing there as the tears never seemed to stop.

"Fucking hell," Denki muttered to himself as he pulled out the small black velvet box from his pocket. He opened it and looked at the stone glistening in the light sitting atop the engagement band. He couldn't hold back the mournful laugh that ripped through his throat. They quickly turned into sobs.

[mirahuyooo]

Stranded (III) | jhs

— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.

word count: 17,476 (PART III) contents: FluFF, skinny dipping (no spicy times tho lmao), deep talks, uncovering trauma, daddy issues, ANGSTY ANGST, y/n discovers the truth behind her abandonment, Theseus, getting drunk, violence (not really graphic), not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, long explanation & historical refs at to be followed if you're interested, Greek Mythology AU pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne

[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!

A/N: LAST PART, PEEPS!!! LET'S GOOO!! i hope y'all buLLETPROOF for this about to HURT right in the middle 😭😭😭 I'm so glad to have finally put this piece out here T-T it's truly a fav 💖 i hope y'all enjoy this!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ | END.

It was fortunate that winters don’t last long in Greece, because soon enough, the coldness thaws and spring comes to Naxos. Each day is still wound with the shenaniganry that is Hoseok, and today, he brings you back to the pool where you first met the nymphs.

The two of you had spent the day helping the nymphs with their home and making sure the trees they lived in wouldn't be disturbed by travelers or beasts alike. You, too, would have to prepare your home for the seasonal change soon, perhaps as one of Hoseok's followers to help you with renovations, so you wouldn't have to inconvenience Silenus next winter.

Before settling for the day, Hoseok invited you to come along with him to the pool to end the day relaxed, he says.

“What in the world are you doing?!"

You gasp as you see him unravel his clothes, spinning yourself away from him in an instant. Hoseok only laughs upon your averted gaze, mischief in every note of it.

His shamelessness, you find, has known no bounds the more you let yourself be dragged to his tomfoolery. He has changed, indeed. "I say we have a little dip, hm?" he muses, his words later on followed by a splash of water.

Willing yourself to not look past what the water allows you, you steal a glance and see him resurface with a grin inviting you to join him. His dark curls were swiped back by his hands, which soon led your eyes to his naked chest and carved collarbones. The setting sun dims the light within the cave, leaving the rest of him to your unhelpful imagination.

Gods help you. "I'm not bathing with you!" you squeal, scandalized by the mere thought of it (but admittedly tempted).

The expression on his face tells you just how much Hoseok was enjoying toying with you. "You dare defy the request of a god, princess?" he teasingly lilts, leisurely swimming back so as to not tear his eyes away from you.

"Don’t say it like that," you grumble, eyes still bouncing off everywhere else in the cavern but him for too long. He may be your friend, but if anyone else might hear of thi—

"I kid, (Y/N)," Hoseok assures upon noticing your furrowed brows and pout. The moment you regain your thoughts and look at him, he smiles. "But," he then muses, "some company is nice for a little swim, do you think not?"

Chewing at your lip, you mull over his words. It has been a hot time indeed, attested by the nymphs' whines and lament you've been hearing for the past few days. Has something happened to Yoongi?

You haven't been faring well with the heat either—even now—especially when the activities of the day had left you sore and sweaty. Really, you haven't much else to kill your time with either.

"I'll withhold from any funny business, I swear," Hoseok further invitingly promises, chuckling as he swims in little laps before you. "You don't have to strip either," he then muses, but then thinks to himself for a moment. "Though you would lack a spare for change."

Perhaps it was because you were bored, or because you wanted the upper hand over him for once, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but you found yourself making a rather bold move.

"Never the matter, I can—"

"Turn around…"

Hoseok's eyebrows rose sky high at your words, a fiery blush spreading across his cheeks—one that (fortunately for him) you were too embarrassed to notice. Your words came out rather quiet and weak, but it was enough for him to freeze. “I beg your pardon?” he gawked, the most shocked you've ever seen him—and you almost feel victorious. Almost.

Awkwardly, you stood there, hand reaching where your dress was held together by a pin and idly playing with it as you found the courage to speak aloud once more. "I said turn around,” you tell him, staring firmly at him into doing your bidding.

Hoseok does as you ask, still taken aback.

After leaving your dress and undergarments in a pile by a large rock, you quickly part your hair over your shoulders and drape them over your decolletage. "Don't you dare look!" you warn once more, watching him closely. 

His smugness seems to have caught up with him, seeing as he was quick to go back to his teasing after hearing you say those words. "Yes, dear," he playfully sings, "come on in."

Practically envisioning the wolfish grin on his face, you resist chucking a pebble at him. You focus on the present moment, and, finally, set yourself ankle deep into the pool, hands covering your delicate parts. The water ripples at your arrival, and as you go deeper, your hair begins to float around you until you gather them back to cover your upper half.

The moment the water reaches your chin, you realize it's deeper than you initially thought, even back when you were with the nymphs. Perhaps, it's even deeper along where Hoseok is, likely leading further down and somewhere into the sea. And so, heart thrumming against your chest, you idly stay where you were, near the edge.

Hoseok's head twitches to turn around but he catches himself. "Comfortable?" He asks first, turning his head just a little—only to catch a glimpse of you holding onto one of the edges and dipping your head into the seawater to fully submerge yourself, eyes closed shut and lungs holding in as much air as you could.

Immediately, he whips his head away upon noticing you were about to resurface. "Hm?" you ask him in the midst of soothing your hair away from your face, not catching what he said.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks again, swimming a little closer with his back still towards you. "I was about to say you needn't strip but…"

It's dark enough, you decide, for him to not see what he shouldn't, so you manage a little smile. "I'll be fine," you tell him, smiling a little once he turns around. Too late to cower back now anyways.

There were still traces of the wine god's flustered shock, but he does well to steer the conversation away from awkward tension. "Feels nice, does it not?" he says as the two of you languidly circle in the shallow area of the pool. (Hoseok, you notice, doesn't go back to the deeper end. Has he taken note of your inability to swim?)

The thought brings butterflies to your stomach, but you refuse to let it distract you any further. You agreeably hum, looking up to see the sky over the overhead fissure and see the night sky coming in with its twinkling stars. A soft smile makes it to your face as you savor the serenity of the moment, sore muscles easing as you turn back to the wine god, whose eyes seem so fixated on you.

"It is relaxing, actually," you finally admit aloud, sighing blissfully as you watch the water ripple around you. "Though it'd be better to be much more prepared next time."

The wine god breathlessly chuckles, nodding along as the notion of a next time excites him. "No more surprises next time, I swear," he says, his hands raised in mock surrender, though you roll your eyes (affectionately) and know well that won't stop his future nonsense next time.

What you also know is that, at the moment, Hoseok is somber, stealing thoughtful glances your way—the two of you sharing an innocent moment in spite of the bold circumstances. In truth, you had expected a water fight by now. "What is it?" you softly ask, lingering just a little closer as your eyes fully meet.

There's a look of profound pride and joy in his eyes as he gazes down at you. "You've changed, princess," he tells you, voice soft yet it still strikes you hard enough to take your breath away.

"In a good way, I hope?" you manage to jest, dipping yourself a little lower into the seawater as if it'd do well to hide your flustered face—or do anything with the funny feeling in your belly. By now, you're side by side, shoulders and arms mere centimeters apart.

The wine god nods, turning to face you with a wistful smile. "You look happier," he gently notes, tucking a hair behind your ear as he does. "Very much a good way."

While the blush on your cheeks continue to spread like wildfire at his touch, his words plunge you into the memories of your murky past—of being that princess chained to a cruel life—and as you drown in it, you're reminded of what Hoseok actually said—of your change, your happiness that he very much was mostly the architect of. The wine god has broken a hole into the depths that drown you—given you a way out to take if you so please while he waits for you to truly leave it all behind.

You are happier—much lighter, much freer—and that brings a smile to your face. "I suppose I am," you muse, practically glowing in the wine god's eyes, "and I have you and the others to thank for it."

The warmth in Hoseok’s chest is undeniable of his utter reverence for you. "Wouldn't have done it without your trust in my shenanigans, princess," he cheekily claims in spite of his giddy heart. For his sake, he swims back and bit away from you, the two of you beginning to idly swim around until…

SPLASH!

The wine god’s boisterous laughter resonates throughout the cave as you gasp at his betrayal.  "Hoseok!" you shriek, retaliating with your own beat of the water towards his direction. With the sweet, innocent moment now gone, the two of you began chasing one another around the pool.

You knew that water fight was bound to come soon.

Eventually, the swim must come to an end before you both end up like raisins, and Hoseok summons Agrios, the large cat seemingly knowing well to bring some towels for the both of you to dry yourselves with. You offer the beast lots of pats and rubs as drape the linen over your shoulders. "Thank you very much," you coo, as you sit by the little fire pit Hoseok conjures.

"I was the one who summoned him," the wine god whines, finally taking a seat next to you two. "How come I don't receive any thanks or pats?"

You laugh, taking a spare linen and reaching forth to drape it over his wet tresses. "Oh, what great magnificence, my liege," you dramatically sung your praises, "such fortune has been blessed upon this humble servant!"

Hoseok half-heartedly rolls his eyes, reaching forth to mush your cheeks together. "Only you would dare to treat me like this," he playfully grumbles as you pry his hands off.

"I thought you said this was a very good change," you grin, as you raise a brow up at him. "Would you like me to go back then?"

Fondly, Hoseok's shoulder nudges yours. "Of course not," he scoffs, resting his head on your shoulder with his damp hair tickling your skin. "You know," he then says after a moment passes, "the day I saw you, I was debating on heading here instead, but Agrios was so insistent on the beach."

You find yourself smiling even more, hands brushing through the leopard's mane as he settles to your other side. "Thank Agrios for that then," you softly muse, "and the Fates for bringing us all together."

The greater part of you knows well you would've never thought the loom of fate would weave your life this way. Behind your struggles on the new path you tread, there is solace and tender appreciation for the banter, the surprises, and the menace.

You rest your head atop his as you gaze into the fire, watching the embers that crackle into the darkness of the night. "My life now is a far cry from what I used to live," you all but ponder, eyes beginning to sting as tears pool in them.

Beside you, Hoseok gazes tenderly, his brows starting to furrow and his lips starting to frown. You haven't talked much of your old life, and he knew just the gist of it—terrible father, terrible half-brother, and terrible lover. “Why have you…” he began, mulling over his words, “Why have you not tried to run away before? If it was so suffocating for you, why did you stay in that place?”

Only then does Hoseok realize his question had been insensitive.

"It's not that easy," you say, a sharp edge to your voice that confirms his belated regrets. Whatever responsibilities you were forced to carry had obviously been heavy if it had left you this scarred.

Hoseok gives a gentle squeeze to your hand, apologetically admitting his fault. "I spoke out of line."

For a moment then, you did nothing but stare ahead with a far away look in your eyes. They carry stories he could only hope you tell him yourself. “I…” you began to say, “I felt responsible, you could say. Though I was young when my mother was cursed to do what she had done—”

“Fucking a bull?” Hoseok surmised.

You recoil at his vulgar tongue. “Yes, well…" you clear your throat, "that.”

Eyes shot wide, the wine god immediately reading his words. “Sorry,” he coughed, looking down and wiggling his toes to idle in silence, "I will say a word no longer."

Truly, when he heard of the accursed rumors while he was in Crete, he didn't think the curse was that forward. It wasn't that he found the events disgusting—he had seen and heard worse—just that he came to think of the gods' temperament. The sinner was obviously your father, and yet Poseidon had seen it fit for everyone else in your family and kingdom to also be roped into the consequences of his greed.

“I was the eldest daughter,” Hoseok hears you go on. “I felt responsible to be an exemplary figure for my sisters and for my people. I thought that if I followed what my father says, it would’ve been the best for everyone. My father is a terrifying man, after all.”

Next to him, you scoff at your naïveté. “I couldn’t have been more wrong,” you humorlessly chuckle, your gaze still so haunted and distant. “I still have nightmares of the people sent down there.”

You shiver, and though Hoseok knew it wasn't just from the night's chill breeze, he takes a drier towel and drapes the fabric around your shoulders, as you, whose mind is barely with him in the present, simply let him.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips. “I often think to myself; had father been humble the first time around and apologized to Poseidon, had he raised Asterion humanely at the very least, perhaps things would’ve gone differently,” you confess, eyes shining with unshed tears as a furrow etched itself between your brows in despair. “I always waited for that change in my father’s greedy eyes, but in the end…” you purse your trembling lips where a bitter smile forms. “I had to wait for a sword to end it all.”

At that part of the recollection, you seem to sober up a little. “Father would’ve had me killed without a second thought if I hadn't left,” your eyes flicker towards him for a moment, and Hoseok recognized fear. "I don't think he even loves me enough to spare me a second to explain myself."

In the best way he knows how, the wine god attempts to steer you away from such terrible thoughts. “Your father’s a foul man, indeed,” he agreeably hums before putting on dramatics. “Perhaps I should make him grow horns and a tail if he's so adamant about the minotaur," he goes to mischievously nudge your shoulder, "or maybe I make him think he's a bull himself! What say you, hm?”

You laugh lightly at his suggestions but shake your head, not really thinking he's serious about his words when he's playfully enacting a charging bull with his hands on his head for horns. “No need,” you hush him, “Theseus already did enough damage by killing his prized monster.”

There's a faint falter to his face following your words and it made you falter—made unease simmer in the pit of your belly. "Theseus?" he quips, "the supposed hero of the tale then, I assume?"

Hoseok's change in attitude doesn't elude you, try as he might to keep it at bay. You could only hesitantly nod. “Why such disdain?” you then ask, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips as you try and decipher his expression. He's angry, you think, but why?

He tears away from your troubled stare and faces the campfire, stoking it with a nearby branch. “Some hero he is then," his grumbled words drip with sarcasm so prickly and cold that it makes you wince as though he had directed such poisonous words to you. You've never heard or seen him like this before—jaw clenched, nose flared, and glaring at the fire.

“I beg your pardon?”

Much more to your shock, Hoseok turns to you, nose stubbornly raised high as he crosses his arms. “You heard me,” he said with much more conviction than before. “Even if he slays a dozen Minotaurs, he will never amount to a true hero in my eyes.”

His displeasure towards Theseus somehow makes your heart shatter—makes you feel stupid for some reason, too. “How can you say such things with such sureness?” you huff, defensive, “have you even met the man you are so heartlessly berating?”

Tension rapidly rushes between you both—Hoseok being offended, and so do you.  “No,” he grunts, rolling his eyes, “but from what I see, he is definitely so.”

The wine god doesn't let you butt in, instantaneously laying his ground for arguments. “Leaving a young woman—a princess, mind you—alone on a desolate island to fend for herself isn’t such a heroic feat, is it?” he gritted through his teeth. “Not to mention the possibility that he must've feigned his adoration towards you in order to incite you into helping him kill the Minotaur.”

Your breath hitched, hurt by his insinuations. Theseus didn't really feign his feelings…. did he?

Hands clenching your dress in fists, you glare at your supposed friend. “It was noble of him to bring upon the death of Minotaur,” you sneer, "surely you cannot deny that?"

“Arguably so,” Hoseok scoffs, his piercing gaze pinning you down and making you feel small, “but what of him deserting you here?”

His words were a deadly blow to your heart, quickly killing any of your rebuttals in one fell swoop as that grim day flashes before your eyes all over again—the pounding headache, the empty space beside you, the derelict camp with marks of haste in the sand. The pain you've buried beneath shenaniganry crawls out of its grave to take a ghastly bite out of your aching heart.

You're a fool.

Why are you arguing with him about Theseus? Defending Theseus, no less?

Hoseok's dislike towards Theseus seemed so instant, so easy, that it came to you that maybe you had been blind after all, not seeing the folly of the hero you gave your heart to.

You're still a fool.

You breathlessly laugh with no true mirth that a laugh should have and in that instant Hoseok realizes what consequences letting his emotions get the best of him causes. Your pathetic laughing at your own downfall sends tears down your cheeks that you don't even seem to take note of. “You’re right,” you murmur your words so quietly, so defeatedly that Hoseok almost didn't hear you. “I had not known enough love from a man to have been certain that someone like Theseus would have settled for the likes of me—a princess of such a kingdom.”

You'll always be a fool.

(In truth, Hoseok's heart shatters then and there, guilt seeping in at every crack as he can't find the words to mend what pain he had subjected you to.)

Out of bittersweet reminiscing, you gestured beachwards where a tent of supplies had once been left for you. “At very least, he had the decency to leave a few supplies behind for me,” you poorly attempt to jest, “perhaps, that was enough mercy.”

Alas, the man you knew to be all smiles didn’t budge. Hoseok still gazed over you with a forlorn look on his face. His eyebrows were knitted together, with the ever growing wrinkle between them showing you nothing but frustrations. Why is he still angry?

Realizing then that you had been crying, you quickly wipe your tears away. You've embarrassed yourself. “There’s no need to be so cross with me, Hoseok,” you nudge his side, turning to the fire before you. “If I must admit it to you, I am an idiot to love.”

You feel more of the god’s ire and stare burning onto the side of your face. Was it pity for your circumstances or disdain for your lack of a fighting spirit?

You didn’t know. You didn’t like it.

Hands make themselves at home over your cheeks. Your eyes meet and you see a storm brewing in them—a part of you wanted to revel in it, while the other wanted to run for shelter.

“(Y/N)...” Hoseok began, soft yet firm, taking you aback from one of the few times he’s called you by your name. “You were wronged,” he tells you, “when will you truly tell yourself that?”

His words struck your heart, like lightning would a tree. His eyebrows were furrowed deeper, the upset frown on his face looking so misplaced. This was the storm—Hoseok’s rage for the bastard who broke you to the point where a part of you still felt at fault. 

"He should be grovelling," he said with such fury, "rue the day he left you here."

Hearing such words was a validation and a painful reminder put into one. Hoseok’s words were enough to help you slay the little bitch in you that held back your fury, held you back using the tight upbringings of your father.

All this time, if not avoiding the topic overall, you would blame yourself—be it your careless trust in the prince, or your foolish assumptions of being loved by the likes of him and his people.

Your entire life has been nothing but a force of people telling you it was your fault, when it wasn’t. It wasn’t your fault your mother was cursed to consummate with the bull your father double crossed Poseidon with. It wasn’t your fault a monster was born from such a union, and your father only used it further for his greed. It wasn’t your fault Theseus didn’t keep his word and left you here to rot.

You find courage in your heart to free yourself of your shackles for the second time—(yet another set of chains that bind you, just a bit more and you're free)—and to shout into the storm instigated by Hoseok’s anger.

Then and there, sobs rack through your whole being from the hurt dawning onto you all at once. "I know," you cried, shaking fists clenching the fabric of your dress yet again. You were wronged. You were wronged. You were wronged.

Arms wrapped around you tight, resisting the initial protest you gave them. “I apologize for starting such nonsense talk,” Hoseok sighs, hands rubbing circles on the expanse of your back. "I lost control over my anger and I spoke carelessly yet again," he grits through his teeth, partly disappointed in himself, "forgive this fool and his senseless mouth."

The wine god spends a good second looking at the heartache in your face, and feels his own heart suffer. He didn't want to see you like this again and yet he had failed miserably. “Cry all you want,” he then urges you, wiping at the cheeks of your snivelling self. “Let out your pain and I’ll lend you my shoulder, hm?”

You find yourself surrendering to the comfort, starved for the warmth you’ve never been given. Head tucked in the crook of his neck, you let yourself sob in Hoseok’s arms. You have nothing but the comfort of his embrace—nothing but him.

Things don’t quite settle the same after that night.

Hoseok’s eyes have been more keen on watching you—how your smile doesn’t reach its fullest, how you’ve become absentminded, or how you’ve excused yourself from most of the gatherings he invited you to. Your heart is in pieces and you cut yourself in the shards without care. The wine god, in spite of not really being one to gently console, has gone through a lot trying to hold it back together.

Here Hoseok was, leisurely laying against the trunk of a tree as the both of you sat under the canopy of the forest well into the afternoon. Beside him sat you idly weaving together a basket—or at least trying to. Time and time again, you cast him a fleeting glance that he makes no comment of.

Eventually, you decide to break the silence yourself. “You needn’t stay here with me,” you sigh, setting your craft on hold upon your lap as your eyes set a doubtful gaze on him. “I can tell how much this bores you.”

He cocks an eyebrow, his lips tugging upwards just a smidge. “I’m not bored,” he contends, though you still look unconvinced, brows furrowed and lips held in the ghost of a frown. “Truly, I am not,” he softly insists, “I, too, can enjoy some peace and quiet.”

You watch as he lays his head onto your thigh, sharing it with the basket-to-be you now couldn’t care less about. Nonetheless, you pick the weavework up to let the wine god make himself comfortable. "Shouldn't you be spreading your influence or something of the sort?" you huff as you once again busy yourself with the basket in your hands.

Surely, you thought, a promising god making his way up the pantheon such as him would prioritize that instead of a measly mortal like you, would he not?

Instead, the deity remains content on your lap in the midst of a quaint forest like it's the throne he belongs to. "They're fine," Hoseok shrugs with careless abandon as he usually does. "My cult won't crumble so easily."

Deep in thought, his dauntless eyes are piercing as they peek up at you even when they don't mean to—the doing of his intimidating, divine presence you suppose. “Enough about me. How are you truly faring, princess?” it was his turn to ask, placing a gentle hand on your shaking ones and stopping your poor weaving when you used it to hide your face from him. “Tell me.”

Whether it was the tenderness in his voice, the ounce of authority he puts in his words, or something else entirely, you sigh and forgo the thought of lying to him. Hoseok has now sat up before you, eyes awaiting any other sign he could take from your expression alone. You know you can deny or avoid the nature of your mind no longer—how it yearns for sweet release from your past yet becomes ensnared by the scornful chains of your contempt and the many questions left unattended to. “I want to put my past behind me, I truly do,” you confess, a bittersweet smile encapsulated on your lips, “but as much I crave for that, I, too, crave for answers, for justice.”

You would do just about anything else than to endure the silence that followed, eyes unable to look at him in fear of bursting the tears you were keeping at bay.

"What do you intend to do after receiving those answers?" Hoseok says after a good minute, sending you into a silence of thinking.

Lips parting, you try to formulate words, to show that you had some resolve over this, but none came out to your need. "I…" your voice cracks as you stammer an admission, "I don't know."

All but another bittersweet smile forms at your lips, your confession leaving you helpless. "But it'd be nice to know of the truth, would it not?" you weakly muse and pathetically steal a glance at the god beside you, only to see him stare off into the trees, his mind lost to thinking of something else.

Another while passes, the wine god beside you seems to be lost in his own thoughts before he decidedly nods to himself. "Alright then," Hoseok finally turns to look at you with a smile soft and comforting, as though telling you everything will turn out alright in the end.

You stare at him, incredulous. "What?"

Wordlessly, the god stood to his feet before you. “Do you trust me, princess?” Hoseok instead asked, offering no other explanation.

You look at his inviting hand—almost glaring.

The last time someone asked you that, you took the very hand that killed the monster of your kingdom, and jumped aboard a ship to flee the treason you both committed. The last time you trusted someone, you woke up an abandoned fool.

But this was Hoseok.

Hoseok, who may have been all shits and giggles, but always looked out over your wellbeing.

Hoseok, who was a god that took you in—freed you from shackles with him and his madness.

Hoseok, who was warmth in a different way than Theseus—a hearth rather than a torch, a home rather than a beacon.

You find yourself taking his hand before you could realize it, Hoseok’s tight, comforting grip causing you to meet with his eyes. His smile softens your resolve, ultimately leading you to surrender to his grasp. “I’ll trust you,” you tell him and something shifted as you said those words—his eyes sparkled more, his smile grew wider, his expression almost fonder than before.

The sky approaching sunset bathes you both in an orange and golden light, but it almost seems to make him glow. “What an honor,” he tenderly muses, taking the hand you gave him and tucking it on his arm as he begins to lead you elsewhere.

Something in you felt like he meant the words he said so jokingly—and you like it.

"Hoseok…"

The wine god has a lot of surprises up his sleeve, you should've known better than to be shocked when he brought you to a chariot pulled by Agrios and other leopards—let alone to be flying across the sky on it. You don't know what you expected the wine god to do when you took his hand, but it certainly wasn't this.

Around you now are pristine white buildings towering over you both, and in the distance is a statue of the goddess of wisdom you had heard so much about. So late into the evening, there are few people around, and yet you bask in it anyway, wondering how lively the streets become in the daylight when everything exudes such decorum.

Athens is as beautiful as you envisioned it—a marvel to take in and a heartbreak all the same.

Whether it was the cold breeze of the night or Hoseok's touch brushing across your skin as he reaches to catch your buckling form stepping down the chariot, you shiver. The wine god, nonetheless, catches your attention, seeing much of the worry and hesitation in swimming in the pools of your eyes. “You deserve your answers, princess,” he urges as he nods towards the palace, “and I’ll make sure he pays for it.”

And so, the two of you slip to and fro around the palace halls, his powers only getting him so far since he’s never one to visit Athens long—they’re too uptight and rational, he says. The night, fortunately, aids the both of you with the time, having fewer people around to stumble across. Hoseok, all the while, uses his divinity to drive away any guards or servants who become too close to discovering your presence. Your endeavors eventually lead you both to two big oak doors, its golden handles tempting you to open them forth.

This is the king's quarters.

"Go on," Hoseok's hush voice urged from behind you as he set down a now unconscious guard that tried to halt the both of you.

Still, you stood dumbly before the doors, unsure and with no courage to be found. Are you ready to see that face again? What will you say? What will you do?

Should you barge the doors open and say 'Hello, Theseus. Why in the world did you forsake me?' or simply stand before him menacingly like the ghost he left you to become?

Should you let your rage take the mantle and scream 'How could you do this to me?!' to your heart's content or be better and steadily interrogate him?

Should you—

"It'd do you well to think twice before doing anything irrational, mortal."

In panic at the unknown presence, you snap out of your frenzied thoughts and wheel around towards the voice that held an edge to the words uttered. A woman stands tall not far from you both, clad in a white and gold with her head held high, glowing almost otherworldly.

The next thing you hear is Hoseok's own voice, dripping with shock as his back straightens. "Athena?"

Your heart drops in an instant, dread filling your veins. The goddess Athena?

The wine god held the goddess’ stare, dauntless and careless as ever. Hoseok slowly pushes you behind him and opens the doors himself with his powers, locking the doors to the bedroom once you make it inside, too. The handles jiggle, a sign of you trying to come out, but it stops soon enough. 

A sigh and a shake of the head is what he receives from the goddess before him. If there was any rage, Athena hid it beneath a collected, tame facade. “You’re as troublesome as ever, Dionysus,” she drawls disapprovingly, but makes no other move. “For such a futile cause, too.”

With hands clasped behind his back, Hoseok remains in between her and the doors. “We’re simply here for answers, sister,” he modestly says, offering no harm to her subjects. “Nothing more.”

Athena’s brow quirks, knowing damn well it’s a lie. He would curse Theseus, if the exchange ever goes awry for you in any way. “If you wanted answers, I would’ve given them,” she quips, the moonlight illuminating her in such an intimidating way.

Alas, Hoseok is too brazen, too foolhardy to be intimidated. “I think she’d rather hear it from him instead,” he retorts, thinking it best for your much needed closure to face the one who broke your heart. (Only then can he truly come to lull you to love again.)

“It’ll only break her heart to know he really did abandon her.”

Such words knocked the wine god to a stupor. Athena’s face remains unreadable as she said it, but there was a gut feeling in Hoseok’s stomach that told him she was in league with the betrayal. Eyes narrowing to glare daggers at her, the wine god could feel anger rising within him. “You…” Hoseok growls, “did you have him abandon her?!”

Then and there, emotion flashed in Athena’s eyes—anger matching his own. “Do not raise your voice at me, brother,” she fires back with her own glare. “Know your place.”

Reminded of his station in the pantheon, Hoseok curses under his breath. You cannot manage to wage a war against a deity more powerful and influential than you.

Athena raises her head as she lays down her judgment of you. "She's not fit to be queen," she puts it so simply that it drags the frown on Hoseok’s lips further. "Her actions have marked her as a blood traitor. She cannot rule alongside Theseus, and so, she became an offering to you while on Naxos—a bride, perhaps."

The words render the wine god speechless. It wasn’t uncommon for travelers to give offerings to the deity of a region they stay amidst their journey. The chances of you having the same fate may have crossed his mind as a possibility once, but—

It was then that the prayer from that stormy night resurfaced.

… as told, to you, we leave a maiden of fair beauty and heart. May she make wonderful company.

You are the maiden offering, after all.

Having such a fact be confirmed to him after the two of you had been vulnerable to one another, it brews sickly guilt within him. To envision your tears and know that sorry state had been left for him, you had truly been nothing but a tool passed around—and that breaks him.

Still, looking at the grander scheme, his rage doesn’t ease. "Not fit enough to be the bride of a king, but fit enough to be the bride of a god?" a scoff leaves Hoseok’s lips as his heart beats erratically, still trying to make peace with what he had learned.

Athena only glowers, her silence enough to answer for her. The goddess doesn’t end her piece there, however. “Theseus will never love her in the way she wanted,” she says the truth and it’s cold—would’ve frozen your heart and made it shatter if you had heard them. “The people will never take it well to have their queen be the same princess who made them suffer either. She would’ve spent her life miserable here.”

“Don’t be so furious either, Hoseok,” she soon levels him with eyes knowing the truth in his heart and the meaning in his name. “I know that look,” Athena tells him, a smirk on her lips both mocking, knowing, and pitying. “If she hadn’t been abandoned, you would’ve never gotten to meet and love her yourself, won’t you, brother?”

Hoseok can’t bring himself to say anything else. The both of them knew that even if he were to deny it right here and then, he’ll only be lying to himself. 

The goddess of wisdom sees it fit to end the discussion soon. "Leave," she commands the last of her words somewhat both softly and sternly. "Take her with you before the guards are alerted of your trespass."

Just as she came, the goddess vanished out of thin air, leaving Hoseok alone to his muddled thoughts. The doors behind him seem to stare back, daring him to open them to see you.

Alas, he doesn’t have the chance to ponder any longer. His heart drops when he hears shouting from inside.

The moment you realized Hoseok had sealed you within the room, you were nearly paralyzed where you stood, hands stuck on the handles as you tried to steady your breathing. Go on, (Y/N). You’ve gotten this far. Get your answers.

The room around you is grand—almost grander than yours back in Crete—as it should be for a king’s chambers, you suppose. Soon enough, however, you hear voices.

“...ow has your day been?”

Just as you anticipated, someone’s inside—Theseus. Who’s he speaki—

“It’s been alright. Brother’s letter arrived, the search is yet to be fruitful…”

No. No, it can’t be…

Every step you take, it feels as though your heart is being squeezed right before your very eyes. Your body struggles against what your curious mind wants, as if trying to protect you from whatever was taking place.

It doesn’t protect you fast enough.

Standing in the open, your eyes meet two pairs of shocked ones—Theseus and your sister, Phaedra.

The two of them stood by a vanity table, her hand atop the one he comfortably had on her shoulder. "(Y/N)?" Theseus gawks, the first to speak, eyes wide as though he couldn’t believe he would ever see you alive and in front of him ever again. It twists your heart some more.

In that instant, your brain scrambles to pick apart the scene and make sense of it. Amidst the denial desperate to reserve what’s left of the ounce of respect you had for your time together, your rage is quick to burn the last of your affections for him. You’re a fool. You’re a fool. You’re a fool.

"You seem surprised, your highness," you drawl, voice so cold and sharp that it shocks even you. "Had I truly not been in your plans for your reign, after all?"

The young king before you is eventually knocked out of his stupor, his face molding into an indecipherable stare as he steps forth, his body tense as if you were a threat. “Leave,” is all he says to you after all this time. 

It's like a sword stabbed through your heart.

You look at the man you once loved—the very same man who swore to make you his and protect you now fulfill his promise to you to someone else. “You want me to leave?” you couldn’t help the bitter scoff that leaves your lips. “Some hero you are then.”

Questioning his deeds seems to be successful in getting a reaction out of him, his lips tugging to a frown and his eyes narrowing into a glare. "I slayed the Minotaur!" Theseus bellowed. "You do not have the right to insult me so."

Why did you even fall in love with this man?

"You may have been the sword that slayed our brother," you spat, body running hot with anger as your voice starts to strain the more you raise your voice, "but if it weren't for me—for my aid—you wouldn't have made it out of that labyrinth alive. You wouldn't be able to revel in the glory you're in now."

Phaedra and Theseus’ mouths gape at the fiery outburst that’s seized you, angry tears blurring your sight yet you continue your outcry. "To abandon me on that island and leave me for death," your chest heaves with pained, struggling breaths. "To go and marry my younger sister, too," you sob harder, seeing your sister avoid your eyes behind him and he shields her. "How low can your betrayal become?"

Your accusation makes Theseus flinch, but he remains thick-faced. "You weren't left for death," he denies yet again, "I was instructed to leave you there by the great goddess Athena. I have no fault in this."

The news leaves you stunned. "What?"

Theseus takes advantage of your faltering rage, readily giving you the answer you came all this way for. "I was told to leave you on Naxos as a sacrifice for Dionysus," he crossed his arms, raising his head to defiantly stare into your eyes and break your heart even more. "I’m simply being a loyal servant to my goddess."

While you had wondered once if being in Naxos with Hoseok was your new purpose in life, it never came to you that it had been the actual reason for your abandonment in the first place. Your trampled heart is thrown down an abyss you have no idea how to escape out of. The possibility of divine intervention never even came to you, always thinking to give Theseus the benefit of the doubt he never deserved.

Seeing his indifference, however, your shock was all too suddenly overcome with rage once more. You didn’t know what sort of answer you expected to hear from him, but you certainly didn’t prepare your heart for this amount of heartache. The absence of warmth from the man you used to think the world of, the discovery of your sister’s involvement, and the truth behind your tragedy—you hadn’t thought it’d be one blow to the heart after the other.

Even if he had simply been doing as he was told, it’s as if it had been a relief to have been told to leave you. Hands clenching the fabric of your dress, you try to still your beating heart—try to keep another outburst at bay. "Is that what you are then?" you say, voice hoarse and hurt, "obedient, but with no heart, no remorse for what you've done?"

Theseus fidgets once more, idly trying to reason. "I left you supplies—”

"I had no knowledge of survival!" you scream once again, words strained by the rough use and the ache. "I was trapped in that palace growing up and you did no better by leaving me helpless on that island!"

Couldn't he at least pretend to be guilty for having left you there? Couldn't he at least feign a broken heart for being forced to leave the woman he swore to love?

Yet, here he was—a prosperous king married to your dear sister.

Your sister, who knew of your fancy to the hero that snuck into your kingdom.

Your sister, who was the one to encourage you to meet him.

Your sister, who now holds the crown and title you were promised.

Another stab was taken to your heart. Two people you've trusted your love and faith to had stomped it so easily. You take yet another glance at your sister, who cowers at every word you shout yet clings onto his arm still. "Had I not been fortunate to have survived," you dare to ask, "had I died then and there, would you have felt anything for me?"

They were both silent, guilt written on their faces in a way that told you they would've likely not, had it not been for you appearing before them, proposing the concept now. "I loved you,” you whimpered, the fabric of your dress nearly ripping from how tightly you gripped them. “I loved both of you!"

Theseus, your first love turned first romantic heartbreak.

Phaedra, your beloved confidant turned treacherous thief.

Heart trampled and filled with rage, you want to charge at them, screaming and hitting to your heart's content, but you’re tired—so, so tired. Your knees give out in no time, rendering you on the ground with nothing to support you. Even your lungs seem to lose faith in you, struggling to supply you with air and leaving you light-headed by the minute as you hyperventilate through your sobs.

In your sorry state, Theseus could still only think of himself and his queen. “That’s enough, (Y/N),” he all but demands, heartless as ever over your fallen frame. “Leave or I’ll call the palace guards.”

For once, you find yourself agreeing to the Athenian king’s words. You’ve got your answers. You can’t bear to be around them any longer. Leave. You want to—

The doors burst open in a fury, capturing everyone’s attention towards the perpetrator—a certain wine god panickingly looking around the room. The moment your eyes meet with Hoseok’s, they soften for a moment before they harden yet again at the sight of your former lover and sister.

Theseus’ eyes are wide as your crestfallen form is wordlessly lifted in the air and towards the stranger who readily carries you in his arms, while you wound your arms around his neck and cry into his shoulder. The Athenian king’s heartbeat began to quicken as he realized just who this man might possibly be—the very god he left you to, Dionysus.

The queen is the only one that seems to be confused. “Theseus?”

A hand reached out to signal her to keep quiet, head humbly bowing down, as with one last glare sending shivers up their spine, the wine god leaves with you just as they had been wanting. There’s a terrible feeling settling in the pit of the king’s stomach.

They’ve incurred the wrath of a god.

Hoseok couldn't cast aside his worry, no matter how hard he tried—couldn't help but cast his worrying gaze behind him where you sat at the edge of his chariot, feet dangling in the air as Agrios and the others dragged the chariot through the air.

The night breeze brushes colder on the shoulder where your tears soaked his tunic and it all but puts more weight onto his heart. As the one manning the whole chariot, his place on it obstructs him from checking on you for too long. Since you two left Athens, he wonders if you’ve stopped crying, if you’re still with no strength in your knees, or if your cruel mind’s been repeating whatever that bastard may have said. 

It was a few painful hours of silence traveling back to Naxos, but it was a safe one nonetheless. Quickly taking care of the reins and wordlessly dismissing Agrios and his siblings to rest themselves, the wine god comes to your side, hesitant to pull you from your trance, lest it summons back your tears. "Princess...?" he gingerly calls out, "We have arrived…"

Before he could place a hold on your shoulder, your body moved on its own, still not with him mentally as you nearly trip over tree roots and crash onto the ground had it not been for him catching you last minute. You seem to stop then and there, letting nearly half your weight be carried by the arm that was wrapped around your middle.

The moment Hoseok notices the slight movement of your head towards him, he seized the chance. "About what happened—"

"We shouldn't have ever come there," your hoarse voice cuts his rambling off, glistening eyes soon looking up at him. He looks back at you with furrowed brows, just as crestfallen. "I shouldn't have listened to you,” your head shakes as you try to pull away from him. ”I shouldn't have."

It wasn't a fair accusation. You knew well you asked for answers, and now that the ones you sought have trampled over your poor, unfortunate heart, your addled mind could only deny it's own fault and blame the one who only intended to help you. You're a fool, through and through.

Hoseok gives you a bit of distance, but shifts his hold onto your wrists instead, keeping you from truly running away from him. "I didn't expect the situation to go so aw—"

“Is it true?”

The wine god is interrupted yet again, and it sparks frustration within him. "What is?” he nonetheless asks, confused for a moment, until he becomes terrified at the realization that Theseus may have told you the truth of what had taken place that day.  

You kept your head down, staring down at where his hands held you. “Was I…” your voice shakes, but it's so quiet he almost doesn't hear you. ”Was I really left on this island for you?”

It seems you dread hearing the truth once again, but Hoseok doesn't lie—you don't deserve any more of it. One painful truth after the other will leave you with more time to heal.

Hoseok knew he had yet to take a wife for himself, his reputation infamously paved with numerous lovers and flings just like many gods of the pantheon—especially his father, Zeus. Pairing that with his lax management of his godly duties has ended him in this tragic predicament, entangled with the strings of fate that twist your heart in its bounds and knots.

(He doesn't want to hurt you. He would never want to hurt you. He'll sit down and untangle this mess forever if he has to.)

As he swore, Hoseok tells you what he knows. "When we came around the shrine that day," he shakily began, drawing idle figures on the skin of your wrist. "I did discover a prayer about a maiden offering left for me, but I thought it’d be a coincidence for it to be you. You were left so haphazardly on the beach, I thought it was a separate incident, until…"

Hoseok could sense your chest shakingly heave before your breath hitches, bracing yourself for the next of his words.

“Athena confirmed it herself," the wine god tells you, watching as your lungs give out a big outbreath of shock and ruin that doesn’t ease your heavy heart in any way. "She saw it fit to have Theseus sacrifice you here, said you would’ve been miserable in Athens if you were to be queen as he promised.”

The thought of marriage with you in Hoseok's mind becomes bitter now that it's been soiled by such a cruel trick. No amount of wine could ever wash down the ugly mark of it. How can you love him after this?

For the first time since, you raise your head, your eyes glossy yet they seem to have run out of tears to shed. “Did he…" your words fall short of a whisper, "did he really have no protests to such orders? Did it come that easy for him to get rid of me?”

Hoseok's own heart is upset at the notion of you still letting that bastard have power over your heart, but he casts that aside in favor of your vulnerable self. All he can do now is speak his truth. “I do not know.”

You become silent then and there, slowly moving out of his grasp and he, unsure of what else to do, lets you. Hoseok's heart would burst from his chest if it could. He watches closely as you roughly wipe at your damp cheeks and forcibly draw your lips to a smile. It's bitter and, like the rest of you, unstable. “Well, the fates have certainly decided what my purpose in this world is,” you say aloud, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips.

You don’t think you can ever hate Hoseok for this—even if you did try—but in the grand scheme of things, you're a mere mortal subject to the gods, the fates, and their will. Always a pawn to someone else.

There was an obvious look of defeat and despondency in your eyes. Hoseok doesn’t like it—mourns because of it. All the time you spent together—raising your spirits, encouraging you out of your shell, and instilling confidence in you—was now all for naught, and it doesn’t help that he’s involved with the downfall of it all.

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you’re quick to shut down any more of his attempts to comfort you, now sure that you’re bound for this misfortune in life. “I got my answers.”

Look at what it got me.

In the near distance, you see the cave that served as the roof over your head for months now—a far cry from the palace you knew, but it was everything. It was home, and now, you’re not so sure what it is exactly—if you can still think of it as a home knowing the man you found, built, and shared it with turned out to be someone you were offered and abandoned to, like an unknowing pup passed from one owner to another.

In truth, a part of you—deep down, buried under all that grief and hurt—understood Athena's intentions, and perhaps, you'll come across the acceptance for it after all the pain subsided. Alas, for now, your thoughts are becoming too loud—heartache, existential dread, and wallowing in one. Time—you need time to think, and then, perhaps, something to make your mind go numb for a couple of hours.

Decidedly, you march forth, stumbling a little as you leave the wine god where he stood. Though an apology weighs down at the tip of your tongue, all you could do is shamefully excuse yourself, eyes cast down and body fidgeting. “I’ll get myself something to drink...”

When you said those words, Hoseok indulged your need for space, he, himself, thinking it would do good to let some wine soothe the thoughts and emotions overwhelming you. Alas, it’s hours after the exchange, and by the time he entered your abode expecting you to be passed out already, you were still showing no sign of stopping. You’ll drink yourself to death, at this point. “That’s enough drinking, (Y/N),” he tuts, prying the wooden chalice and bottle from your surprisingly stubborn fingers. "You know Yoongi isn't around to give you the remedy for this."

His light jest doesn't do well to deter you. “Nonsense,” you slurred, sputtering some of the wine onto his robes as you tried to chase what he took.

You end up stumbling in his arms, and, in spite of both hands being occupied, Hoseok wound an arm around your waist to hold you up. For a second, he feels your body tense, perhaps mulling over whether to push him away from you or not, but ultimately, you mouthed no protest, too dizzy and too tired to.

The wine god finds himself beginning to understand why the rational, uptight people held great disdain for his masterpiece. Wine and other spirits numb down the drinker, merely delaying the inevitable reality they'll face, and, especially knowing the heavy reason behind your drinking, Hoseok feels upset with himself even more. “You can’t drink the pain away, princess,” he sighs, setting the wine bottle down so his now free hand can brush back the hair that stuck to your sweaty face.

Face scrunching at his touch, you whine and try to lull away from his hand. Through heavy-lidded eyes you peer up at him, almost in a glare. “But I can forget,” you stubbornly insist, a tear sliding down your cheek as your lips quiver. “I don’ know what else to do.”

There’s a frown on his lips, Hoseok could tell, and his brows are furrowed together like yours as he gently wipes his thumb across your cheek. It's easy to want to forget in a fragile time like this, and while wine can make you forget, Hoseok refused to lose you to it. He places the chalice down onto the table, ridding what keeps him from fully embracing you. "He doesn't deserve your tears," he finds himself saying those words through gritted teeth, "or your love."

You don’t seem to be clearly understanding his words, but you’ve let your head fall to his shoulder, burying it there as your hands raise to rest themselves on his chest. (If you had been a bit sober, you would’ve been aware of how fast his heart beats under your touch.)

"M' heart hurts," you all but murmured weakly against his tunic, followed by a sniffle. The words that follow fall from your lips in a dazed and defeated whisper. "Love always eludes me like this."

The wine god’s heart is clenched so tightly by your words that it leaves his face in a pained expression, as if he had actually been stricken with ichor running down his skin. If this was what you’ve come to believe, you’re sorely mistaken, and damn Theseus and everyone else for making you think in such a way. "You are loved, princess," he arduously declares, burying his head into your hair as he hugged you tighter. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

At his words, he feels your head turning to the side where it leaves you listening to his heart. Hoseok wonders if you could tell his heartbeat’s pace is quickening now. Surely, you do, right? It’d be further testament to his proclamation—proof of the things you do to him, a god in his own right.

"I am?"

It was a quiet murmur, yet it spoke volumes of the doubt loudly seizing your head. Hoseok is crushed and you’re none-the-wiser to every crack your sadness compels onto his heart. "Mhm," he hums, pulling away so his hands can take a hold of your face as he lists the people you’ve managed to brighten up with your presence in your short time here. "Agrios, Silenus, Yoongi, Aldora, Alenka…"

Hoseok stares into your glistening eyes, a smile so soft on his lips as he sees you slowly coming back to him. For a moment, the wine god thinks to himself, whether or not to make his love known to you after all this time. I love you, such words dangle on the tip of his tongue. More than I ever thought I could love anyone else.

The faint scent of his wine on you, however, reminds him of your delirious state of mind, of how drunk it is. A waste of an opportunity to confess, he thinks. He'd rather have you fully sober when the time comes. "And me," was all he could say at that moment, but he said it with as much heart and warmth as he could muster. "We all love you very much."

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

The wine god watches as you soften at his words, sobering a little as you take them in with a faint smile on your lips. He knows not if you’ll remember this exchange in the morning, but Hoseok hopes you can at least remember the feeling of it, and know that, even if the rest of the world shuns you, so long as he lives, Naxos will welcome you with open arms. “You best remember that, hm?” he playfully chides you, "You are loved."

Your hands gingerly snake from his chest and up to his hands where they rest upon your cheeks, replying with a gentle, meak nod. The last of your tears eased along with the spirits in your veins, the clarity of your actions the past hours now washing over a new sense of guilt onto you. "Forgive me," you softly tell him, gathering the strength to look up to meet his eyes as you did. "I was unfair 'n a nuisance," your words fall over one another, drowsiness bleeding into them as a result of exhaustion from everything that has taken place. "None of it was your fault."

The wine god earnestly thinks for a moment, as tingles travel up his arm from where you started unconsciously drawing idle circles on the back of his hand. A part of him hurts still—both of you are. “You have the right to be upset over what you just learned.” he began, one hand freeing itself from your hold only to caress your cheek. “I can only hope you'll be able to heal from it soon.”

A mellow beat of silence follows suit, as your eyes softly stare back, warm, grateful, and lost in thoughts as you mull over his words. “Thank you,” you whisper, simple words running deeper as the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips.

Encouraged by a twinkle of soft endearment in your eyes, the wine god rests his forehead against yours, savoring the moment while you let him. Hoseok doesn’t think you’re even aware of how beautiful you look in the dim moonlight like this. With lips only mere inches apart, too, the wine god thinks he's never faced such temptation ever before in his life. Practicing poise unbecoming of the wild-hearted spirit he once was, he settles for a mere kiss on the crown of your head. His lips linger there for a moment, and though he didn't want to part just yet, he does so in order to guide you towards the bed. “Sleep,” he casually urges, “you need it.”

Exhaustion easily comes to you as soon as you hit the covers, eyelids heavy as you try and keep them open. Your hand keeps its loose hold on his, a slight tug wordlessly inviting him to stay with you. "Don't leave," you tenderly say, eyes pleading with him in such a way that it effectively disarms any semblance of reason in his head.

Indulging you and himself, the wine god takes the space next to you (unlike last time). Once the blankets have been laid out over your bodies, Hoseok finally rests his head on the pillow. You face one another with your hands still interlocked together, in spite of the shy boundary existing in between the rest of your bodies.

“Good night, princess,” he quietly murmurs into the darkness of the night, thumb drawing shapes on your skin as you did his. “I’ll be right here with you.”

The moment you wake up, however, an empty space greets you.

Try as you might, the void in your heart persists as you muster the strength to sit up from the bed, the sleep weighing down your bones slowly dissipating the more your consciousness returns to the real world. The search for warmth—for his presence—was so instant, it was practically instinct.

This wasn’t the first time you woke up alone. Why does his absence bother you so?

Pieces of last night come to your mind. Athens, Athena herself, and the confrontation, make your heart hurt more for a moment, but, at the same time, the sweet words, the tender kiss to the forehead, and the comfort of his hand came to you. Though vague and a bit blurry in between, the feeling of it never escapes you, sending you furiously blushing as you bury your head into your palms.

Gods, get a hold of yourself, (Y/N).

The faint sound of music from outside soon draws your attention—a song sounding so familiar. In an instant, your brows furrow together in confusion.

Ultimately, your mind once again wanders to the wine god you spent the night crying to. You need to talk, especially now that you’re sober and a bit better with reining in your emotions. Your head pounds, a sensation you’re very much familiar with, but by some miracle, you manage to get yourself together, and head out into the world a bit presentable.

“Hoseok?” you tentatively call out, looking around the forest that surrounds your cavern for the music.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, princess.”

Heart nearly leaping from your chest, you immediately turn around towards the source of the voice and the hearty laugh you just heard—the speed of which sends a spike of pain to your head. You see Silenus, the old satyr leaning against a nearby tree with his pan flute in hand and a teasing grin. He must've been the one playing the tune. "I apologize," you stammer, flustered to have been caught in such a way. “What brings you here?” 

Silenus' smile turns a bit warmer. "A little bird told me to keep watch while he's away," he knowingly says, making your heart skip a beat then and there.

Hoseok?

In spite of the dulling headache, you hold back the urge to go back inside, sleep, and simply wait till the wine god comes back. Instead, you approach the satyr, gathering strength to converse. "Where did he go?" You ask, bashful still but you waited for answers anyway.

"Somewhere," the satyr simply shrugs, and you're left with disappointment you cannot voice aloud. You settle for a seat by a protruding tree root not too far from where Silenus sat.

The moment you sat down, the old man wastes no time to strike conversation. “I heard a lot happened last night,” he hums good-naturedly. “What troubles you still, princess?”

Consciously, you think to yourself if the frown and furrowed brows had settled so naturally on your face for him to have noticed. Either way, whether it was because you needed another set of eyes on the situation, or you needed to vent out what's left of your ire, you tell Silenus the events that unfolded last night—Hoseok taking you to Athens, meeting Athena, confronting Theseus and Phaedra, and learning the truth. “I know the fault isn’t his. I just…” you eventually sigh, struggling to put your emotions into words. “I just feel toyed with?"

Life, in the end, is very much like the palace you grew up in—an elaborate game with harsh rules you must follow to survive. Yet another role was thrusted into your hands to play—a sacrifice? a scrap for the taking?

"Some part of me finds it hard to look at him the same way I once did, but at the same time…”

I'm not entirely against it—

No. You can't say that.

Beside you, Silenus nods, taking in the implications of your words in spite of you not knowing exactly what you mean to say. For once, you realize, he looks a bit more serious. "Well, the Fates toy with everyone," he eventually comes to say, "thread mingling with thread, stubborn knots ruining a patch or two, but in the end, when all the threads are cut, the loom displays the grand tapestry that bears all of the fruits of the game we played—be it good or tragic."

The talk of the Fates brings back a frown on your lips. The strands have a life of their own, full of potential and calling to one another as they’re spun, guided, and cut by each of the Fates. "What if I don't want to play the game of looms and threads anymore?" you dared to idly wonder aloud as you pulled your knees closer to you. It was an ugly thought, you know, but you've been left too exhausted to stop them from resurfacing, dreading how long Lachesis intended to pull along the thread meant for you when it’s so frayed with misery—how long you’d have to be weaved into the tapestry of humanity for before your thread finally meets Atropos' shears.

It’s the satyr who frowns this time, setting his pan flute aside. "One may unravel as a stray thread, but it's one without any other color," he wisely tells you, "without life."

You mull the words over, a bitterness coming over you now that the unkind demons got the better of you. Your part of the tapestry will be ugly anyway, it cruelly hisses—a vile comment a bigger part of you agrees with.  "I play terribly with the game of life," you cross your arms over your knees as you idly look into the wilderness spanning out before you.

"Then learn to play better,” Silenus chides, meaning well but it slaps you awake all the same. “It depends on who you play with, does it not?"

Threads calling to other threads allow for millions of possibilities to take shape, lingering around one another until an ultimate choice intertwines two or more together in a game of who wins or loses with their experiences. "The Fates can give us an array of colors to entangle with and Hoseok, that silly boy," the satyr grins with a fond shake of his head, "is vibrant—a great thread and playmate to be entangled with, if you ask me."

No truer words have been said, and because it was the truth, you can't deny yours either. "But I don't understand why I can ever be entangled with him in the first place," you counter, still playing along with the thread analogy. "I'm dull compared to him."

The thread of the gods must be glowing and gilded compared to that of mortals. Even at your very best, you don't think you could ever even amount to him.

The satyr sighs, sparking shame from your conscience. "You ask too many questions, princess," he shakes his head and stares down at you. “What if that’s why you were given the chance to be entangled with him, hm?”

You gawk at the old man, preparing for a stern lecture but he maintains a softer, passionate manner. "The two of you compliment one another in many ways," he says so surely, so confidently that it flusters you. "He's wild and you're tame, and so, you teach him how to calm down while he coaxes you out of your shell."

"You both tend to forget yourselves, but look out for the other," he adds, rendering the blush on your face to be worse. "You're practically attached by the hip, too!"

Ultimately, Silenus's words leave themselves ingrained in your head and bring your butterflies to life. "He very much wants to be in your life, and you, in spite of everything else, deprive yourself of him—of all of this."

Is it really depriving?

You think to yourself if your aversion to the divine and your scars from love had indeed led you to this cruel state of mind—of depriving yourself of companionship from someone else. The more you think of it, the more the denial retaliates against the realization. You can't, right? That sort of thing would mean you lo—oh, gods. Do you really?

Seeing your eyes blown wide, lost in arguing thoughts, Silenus knocks down your doubts some more. "Would it really be so bad to play this game of life with him?" he asks, half sincere and half temptingly.

The question begs you to envision it—a life accepting your sacrifice to Naxos and living with Hoseok. When all wounds heal into fading scars and all ache lay buried beneath many happy memories, when your body is spent contently exhausted from gatherings and shenanigans, when you continue to stand at the end of Hoseok's bright, endearing smile for the rest of your life, would it truly be so terrible of a life?

“No,” the word leaves your lips whimsically, a soft smile tempting your lips at the thought of such things. “I don’t suppose it would.”

If Hoseok were to let you leave Naxos—and he undoubtedly would do it for your sake if you so desired it—then, where would you even go? Who else would you run to?

Silenus grins at you seeing the light out of the darkness. “There you have it then,” he concludes, bringing his hands together in a satisfied clap.

In spite of what's left of your emotions still left with questions unanswered, you are, nonetheless, grateful for the time he spent to impart his advice to you. “Thank you, Silenus,” you say, "and I'm sorry."

The old satyr waves it off nonchalantly, picking up his flute once again to play. This leaves you seeking your own peace and quiet to think more things through—especially that question. “I’ll be going then,” you bid him farewell, pushing yourself up from where you sat and dusting off your wrinkled dress.

It was only when Silenus noticed you were walking away from the cave instead of towards it that he spoke again. “Where are you off to?” he calls out, compelling you to turn around with a reassuring smile after recalling him saying he was here under a favor for the wine god.

“The beach,” you tell him, pointing towards a direction you knew all too well. “Just for a walk. You needn't come with me.”

You need time alone to confirm something to yourself—confirm what your true feelings for the wine god are. Silenus seemed to have understood this need for contemplation, as he simply nodded and remained where he was, readily waiting just as he had waited before you woke up.

With barely any effort, the walk to the beach easily becomes a nostalgic one. Under the canopy of towering trees that used to be so terrifying and foreign to you that stormy night, your feet now wander with a mind of its own, already knowing the path by heart. The sound of the waves that soon reach your ears pluck at your heartstrings in a beautiful melody, and the moment your shoes dip onto the sand, a shiver runs down your spine.

Months ago this was merely some island you were marooned on, and now, it’s everything to you. You know well who’s to blame for this sweet, homely feeling—who’s made it easy to fall in love with this place and hard to ever truly hate for what else it had meant.

A sigh follows one deep breath as you look at the shore, envisioning where the camp had once been—where the Fates had led your thread to meet the stranger wine god. In the struggle within your heart, acceptance was beginning to turn the tide.

Yes, this is your reality now. This is ho—

"Halt!"

Once again, the living daylights were scared out of you, and this time, your heart had reason to pound erratically. In the distance were a group of men, armed with bows and armored in leather. At first, you thought them to be hunters, but as they approached you with the arrows drawn and some with hands on the hilt of the swords on their waist, you began to see familiar faces among them.

Soldiers from Crete.

You were torn between the urge to run and the instinct to stay put, knowing well you won't get far with this many people hunting you down. The latter, however, wins as fear aids to paralyze you. You did your best to seem as collected and civilized as you could, whilst their weapons raised menacingly against you. "So you've found me," it was a surprise to you how you manage to say it so steadily and calmly in one fell swoop. Deep down, you're terribly frightened.

A beat of silence passes.

One of them, you notice, gives discreet commands to another of, what you think, a lesser rank. You're as taut as the bows drawn against you, watching intently as the aforementioned soldier leaves the scene—to rally more of their comrades, you realize.

The moment one of them breaks the silence and makes a charge towards you, you finally feel your body move in response, quickly grabbing sand and throwing it to the soldier's face. As he yelps and clutches his face, you try and make a grab for the sword that fell from his hand, but the slightest touch to the bronze blade was thwarted by a powerful force from your side that sends you flying away from it.

Harshly landing on the sand, your whole body feels on fire. Your chest burns from the half scream and half gasp that escapes you, clutching your side as the pain from the kick brings immediate tears to your eyes. No, you refuse to go down like this. Hoseok, Agrios, Silenus —You have to get back to them. You have to.

You muster all the strength to push yourself from the sand, only to be met with more weapons drawn at you. "Surely, I'm not the only one accountable for this," you sneer at them, chest still heaving. "Father better also have sent his crude soldiers to Athens."

A strong hand yanks your hair upwards, eliciting a pained scream from your mouth. "You're but a felon now," the soldier spat as your thrashing was no match for his vice strong grip. "We do not owe you respect."

Among them was a man who you recognize as a captain of the guards. He has his eyes set on you, stepping closer to tell you a news that shocks you to your core. "The king's dead, princess," he says, voice cold, eyes piercing, and hand guiding his sword to your neck as he watches your eyes widen.

Since your abandonment, you didn't really expect to be able to hear of your father's fate, but you suppose his deeds would've eventually caught up to him as he deserved it.

Two soldiers roughly held you up by either arms, caging you as their leader continued. "Shortly after you fled with the Athenian bastard, he was slain while looking for Daedalus and his son," the captain told you, digging the blade to your skin where it draws a thin red rivulet. "We are here to give him justice."

In spite of your body responding to everything with telling signs of fear—trembling frame, streaming tears, and pounding heart—you speak defiantly and just as harsh. "This is no justice!" you grit through your teeth, raising your head high to glare back at the men surrounding you. "Father's greed is to blame for his own downfall—deceiving Poseidon, getting mother cursed, and having the Minotaur ruin the innocent lives of many. They all lead back to him and you're all as blind as bats if you think otherwise!"

(It's also your father's fault that he managed to build a strong army loyal to him, and now, even in death, he makes life difficult for you.)

The captain's glare turned murderous, nose flaring. "How dare you!" He roared, raising his sword in the air as a look of horror flashed in your eyes.

In spite of your best efforts to escape—wriggling around like a madwoman, stepping harshly on their feet—it's futile, your head instinctively looking away as you wait for the blade to come.

This is it.

This is the end of you.

The wine god's eyes eagerly search for the familiar clearing, and, in his haste, the whole chariot shakes at the rough landing he had gotten himself. Hoseok sees Silenus under the tree where he left him, lips parting from the pan flute to grin at the young god. "Will you finally tell me where in the world you snuck off to this time?" The old satyr stands back on his hooves and rests his hands on his hips in a playful scolding.

"Just somewhere," Hoseok simply shrugs, but the smirk on his lips betrays the supposed casualness of his absence. In truth, he visited Aphrodite and Eros for a little favor. After all, by the wine god's rules, one can easily earn themselves just about anything if one offers great wine and drama.

(The goddess of love was surely not happy with what Theseus had done. He won't be getting any luck with love or lust any time soon—or ever.)

Never the matter, that's the least of his priorities now. “Has (Y/N) woken up yet?” Hoseok asks, wordlessly dismissing the leopards to rest from their trip—save for Agrios who decided to linger.

Silenus' smug grin brings heat to the wine god’s cheeks. “Ah, yes,” the old satyr nonetheless answers, “just a while ago. Had a lot of things on her mind, that one.”

The talk, the kiss, Hoseok immediately thinks, anticipation setting his entire being ablaze. “Where is she then?” he’s quick to ask, his eyes set on the first place he could see, the cavern.

Instead of that, however, Hoseok watches as the satyr gestures to a direction he knew all too well. “The beach,” Silenus tells him, “gone for a walk she says. If you hurry along, you two might go for a little swim together, heh?”

Hoseok could only roll his eyes at Silenus' words (though he does give the fantasy a thought or two). He wastes no time to walk forth with Agrios quietly following suit. There’s something in the air that makes his insides twist. Is it his anxiousness over talking with you again? Will you leave? Will you stay?

“I don’t look too much of an idiot as of now, yes?” the wine god jests to his spotted beast for his sake, a nervous chuckle forced past his lips. Agrios, who can’t talk in the first place, does well to give Hoseok an unimpressed look without even trying, walking ahead without being bothered by the pout the wine god gives him.

“A little support would b—”

A growl reached his ears, cutting his whine short as the sight of Agrios’ alert and defensive stance worsens the terrible feeling in his stomach. All too suddenly, the wine god’s face falls serious, realizing the leopard was glaring towards the beach. “What is it?” he whispers to the beast, cautiously approaching the beach with Agrios.

The moment he heard the pained scream and yelling, Hoseok's heart dropped.

The moment he saw a blade levied against you, Hoseok's body leapt into action.

The moment he had you at arm’s length, Hoseok's mind could only ever think of shielding you.

"(Y/N)!"

Hoseok, assured by the sight of Agrios coming to your aid and mauling any soldier who dared to come at you both, is quick to use the time to look over you as your shaken knees make you fall onto the sand. The moment he hears a whimper and sees the tears, the pounding fear in his heart gives way for rage. This allowed him to focus on what’s left of the men that surrounded you, all three currently hesitant with the spotted beast daring them to so much as take another step forward.

Hoseok is terrifying when he wants to.

"You dare come to hurt her?" he drawls, his furious presence easily towering all over them with his piercing eyes seemingly rendering them frozen where they stood. There’s been a change in the air—tense, heavy, and almost suffocating. 

Though their swords and bows begin shaking in their grip, the soldiers remain headstrong in arrogance. “Our business isn’t with you,” the captain tries to negotiate, weapon still drawn. “Give us the woman and we’ll leave you be.”

The laughter that falls past Hoseok’s lips sends a shiver down even your spine. “What makes you think I’ll do as you say?” he dares them, taking another step forth.

An arrow is fired.

Whether it was done intently or instinctively by one of the soldiers, it nonetheless managed to graze Hoseok’s exposed arm and narrowly missed your head. There's a look of fear that sets in their eyes, seeing golden ichor instead of crimson blood running down Hoseok's skin from where the arrowtip struck. 

In that instant, they come to realize the grave mistake they’ve made.

All of them fall to their knees, their weapons making a pathetic thud on the sand. Their lips quiver, trying to scramble strings of apologies together but they make no comprehensible noise, all as the wine god proceeds to glare down at them. If they're so bent on such filthy violence, Hoseok decided, then he'll give them the carnage they so seek.

One by one, what's left of the men began screaming, pointing at each other with madness and fear in their eyes. Their own thinking and frenzy fuel the work of Hoseok's curse upon them, and they start running around one another with their weapons drawn.

What horrifying feat befalls them at their own hands, you didn't have the chance to know (nor would you ever want to) as a figure kneels down before you. Shaking hands caress your face, gently guiding you to meet eyes with pools of endless worry. “Are you alright?” he asks, chest heaving as he did.

The most you could muster was a numb nod, thoughts still frazzled from everything that went wrong on your supposed peaceful, reflective walk on the beach. Before you was an unconvinced god, remnants of his rage seething like demons and insisting that the curse on the soldiers wasn’t enough.

That’s the least important matter at hand right now, he reminds himself. Gathering you in his arms and calling for Agrios, Hoseok doesn't waste any more time and usher you away from the scene. The moment he makes the journey towards the forest however, he feels your hand squeeze him tighter.  

"Don't," you say, eyes finally seeking his, but they’re filled to the brim with fear and urgency.

Immediately concerned, Hoseok stops in his tracks. "Why?" he asks, setting you down with the intent to look over your body more closely. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

Your hands tremble where they came to hold onto his arms. "No," you shake your head, looking towards the forest. "More are coming."

Hoseok dismissed the worry, no doubt ready to argue he can deal with them and so you quickly retorted. "What if they're in the forest?” you pour out the predictions you’ve constructed in your head. “What if they see the cavern and come back with even more soldiers?"

For a moment, the wine god contemplates this. Even if more do come, Olympus would have to fall first before he’d even consider the thought of letting them take you away, but right now, you need assurance and time to calm down. Looking over to the leopard in a wordless conversation, the two of them share a look of agreement and after a gentle brushing against your skirts in a comforting farewell, the big cat heads into the forest without another word.

Before you could wonder where Agrios was going, Hoseok intertwined his fingers with yours, gently tugging you along a different direction—the pool cavern.

The cavern looks as pristine as you remember, and the fond memories effectively ease your nerves. Hoseok walks over to the wooden chest you two brought here a few days around the return of spring, and fishes out a linen cloth to drape over your shoulders. "You can stay here," he tells you, as he brushes your hair back. "I'll see to it that they'll never come back here again."

Chewing at your lips, you mull over what words to say. His protection warms your heart, but the thought of being a nuisance twists it all the same. You let yourself fall forth to embrace him. "Be careful," you murmur against his chest, and he responds with a squeeze—a wordless assurance that he will, for you.

Your sole purpose here in the cavern pool was safety, and yet, you all but feel emptiness the moment the wine god leaves.

Hours passed, the sun settling high in the sky and well into the afternoon. You’ve taken a seat on the edge of the pool, your calves submerged in the water lapped by gentle ripples made by your lightly swinging feet.

It was fortuitous that the silence you’ve been given here has allowed you to do the reflecting that was cut so short by the ambush earlier on.

Before you were so rudely interrupted, you had been warming to the idea of accepting your fate to be in Naxos, and the events that had taken place had only served to further engrave the sentiment into your heart.

Have you gone mad?! You should be scared! the old part of you hisses from its derelict shell. Have you forgotten what divine wrath did to your life? 

Perhaps, you have gone mad.

(What kind of sane person has a heart that skips a beat at the thought of a god cursing someone who dared to harm them, or dare to get even a little bit of satisfaction out of it?)

A new battle brews between mortification and shamelessness at your change in lens towards Hoseok. This was hardly the time for it, you remind yourself. There is much to be done with your father’s loyalist at your tail.

In spite of your best efforts, the time continues bringing your heart’s utter affection for Hoseok and everything on this island to light and clarity, and you grow all the more weary with waiting. You wonder how Hoseok was faring with the soldiers—how everyone else in the forest would be. Mortals may not truly, fatally harm gods, but they are still capable of destruction, and you’d hate for Naxos to fall into trouble if any word of your being here were to get out.

The sound of footsteps makes you jump from your skin, anxiously anticipating who would appear at the entrance with a million questions running through your mind a minute.

The moment you see Hoseok's familiar face, however, relief washes over you, so much so that tears brim your eyes. "You're back," you breathlessly whisper, having enough of your restraint left to stop yourself from pushing up from the edge of the pool and running to him.

It’s a dilemma that solves itself, however, as the wine god, himself, comes to you with a small smile. Hoseok, too, wordlessly rids himself of his shoes and sits at the edge of the pool, easing his legs into the water. "I've sent out people around the island," he informs you as gazed down at your obscure reflections in the water. "We’ve managed to capture a few, but we haven’t a clue yet if there are still others left. We'll have to wait here for news till then."

You could only nod, putting faith in his word as he’s always done his best to fulfill them.

"How are you faring?"

The question was something you expected, especially when the concern in his eyes never went away. "Well enough," you try to dismiss with an assuring smile, but a fleeting glance to his solemn face condemns you to admit just a little bit of truth. "Just a bit sore."

You carefully brush your hand to the side from when the soldier had kicked you away. There was a dull ache that spread across your torso, spiking pain if you breathed a little too deeply.

The grimace on your face as you did so doesn't elude the wine god. “I'll call over Yoongi as soon as I can,” he urgently says, about to leave his place beside you if it weren't for the hand you placed on his knee, compelling him to stay. Hoseok does as you wordlessly ask, but the furrow in his brows remain along with fleeting glances at your side.

His company alone is doing more than he can ever realize, the comforting silence doing well to ease your heart. "Thank you," you speak into the silence after a while, eyes soft with gratitude and a little something more. "For coming to my aid," you further elaborate, but soon correct yourself, "for always coming to my aid."

Hoseok's frown softens, a fond look comes with casual shrug. "I always will," he tells you like it's an absolute truth of the world.

The wine god shifts closer towards you and reaches forth, hand so tenderly on your cheek that you lean into it. His thumb rests just below your eyes, readily there to wipe away teardrops should they come. You, however, hold them back as you muster the strength to tell him what had happened. "My father's dead," you tell him with only a fleeting hint of remorse and a momentary shake. "He died pursuing the architect of the labyrinth and his son," you say, "and they were here for his just revenge."

Hoseok's eyes grew dark at the mention of the soldiers and their twisted sense of justice. "You needn't worry," he declares, "I—we won't let that happen."

The correction he makes to himself twitches your lips upward. "I know," you hum, eyes telling him of the confidence you have for his promise. Hoseok has never failed you before, and even if he didn't you wouldn't dare to hold it against him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, his hand falling onto your lap where it intertwines with your fingers. Returning your gaze to the waters, you abide the time by watching the ripples that form at every languid move of your feet. You pretend not to feel his thoughtful gaze, or feel your own butterflies as you relish idly playing with his fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

Your name falls from his lips, soft yet with a hint of hesitance. Sparing him any intimidation your eyes staring into his might bring, you simply squeeze his hand in assurance. "Hm?" you all but hum in response.

There's a beat of silence—one, two.

"Marry me."

In an instant, you lift your head from his shoulder and look at him for any signs of jesting, only to find none. Instead, you see redness spread across his face as he brings his other hand to fiddle at the lobes of his ear. He's nervous.

Gods, what about you then?! Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling. Wha—

Hoseok is quick to sense your frenzied emotions, using the stunned silence to his advantage. “I know it’s what you’ve been left here for in the first place, and the memories of what that bastard did pains you, but I want you to marry me out of your own volition,” he practically vomits all his words, but he's fortunate your heart and mind's utter intrigue over all of this has compelled you to clung onto every word. “I want you to know that I crave to have your being next to mine, regardless of what had transpired for it to happen.”

To hear such words in such desperation, you were taken aback. It may have slid into a passing fantasy once, but it never occurred to you that Hoseok would feel this passionately for you. Gods, you didn't think he'd feel anything strong enough to actually ask for your hand!

The wine god forgoes his anxious habits and has both hands seize yours, both in an attempt to ground himself and in a plea for you to heed his confession—to listen should he never have the guts to spill his heart out ever again. “The moment your heart began to open, I all the more knew you were meant for something greater than how you were treated,” he proceeds to attest, “You're beautiful to me—most beautiful—and when I saw your tears, your grief, there was—is—a strong urge in me to bring a smile onto your face—something that told me you were much more radiant with happiness, instead of melancholy.”

The tears stinging your eyes were becoming difficult to fight back. You look at the god before you, still unsure of what to say. Every word strikes your weary heartstrings, and you could hardly breathe with how blissfully painful it is for your cruel demons.

He wants you to be his? The remnants of your old self can't take it, too skeptical to ever give in to the temptation of love.

Hoseok still tightly holds your hands in his, and you swear you could feel his palms sweating. “If you would so please be my wife, (Y/N),” he tells you, almost pleading in a way desperate mortals would. “I will do my very best to take all of your sorrows away.”

The panicked outcries of your old self—that poor, unfortunate runaway princess—falls into the abyss, only to land onto the plush, homely foundation that is the paradise of Hoseok's affections and yours.

This once-stranger, who saved you on that beach, had stayed with you on this damned island when he could've easily carried on his way.

This wine god, who made you feel worthy of love, had not only made you love him, but also love you.

This Hoseok, who you’ve known through months of splendor, loves you with all of his divine being—loves you more than Theseus ever could.

Hoseok watches as your eyes turn glossy and it all the more makes him despair. “Though I may not reign amidst those in Olympus,” his breath staggers, but determination reigns true in his eyes, “I swear that I shall treasure you and provide to you the life a goddess deserves.”

Your eyes widened even more, tears had long been falling down your cheeks. This is all too much for your heart to withstand.

No longer able to bear holding everything in, you inch closer towards him. “Hoseok, you of all people know well that my heart is in pieces,” your breath trembles. "How much it has lost faith in things such as love."

At that moment, his smile falters.

At that moment, he curses Silenus, Yoongi, and himself for ever hoping.

At that moment, he thought it was all for naught.

“But you're a warmth I will forever be grateful for,” you softly declare, caressing his cheek with a smile and shattering his thoughts. “Frankly, I don’t think you deserve someone like me. I am but a mere mortal compared to you—imperfect, broken, and still hurting,” you tell him, "will you still love me in spite of it?"

"I already do," Hoseok affirms it so ardently that it makes you breathlessly chuckle. "I love you with all of my heart. I'll give you anything," he vows, voice falling so soft you could barely hear it, "even Olympus itself."

He will seize a grand seat on Olympus, one way or another. You will lay on the softest of pillows and dress in the prettiest of silks. You will dine full and drink to your heart's content. You will be there with him and his mother in a palace, safe and sound. “That way, no one will come between us,” he asserts, claiming such a future into fruition. “No one will ever harm you again.” 

Fury burned in every word he swore before you, unbecoming of the carefree, grinning man you knew him to be. "There's no need for such lengths," you tell him, eyes soft and endearing as you shake your head at him. You need not the glory of Olympus or the crown of a queen or a goddess. All you could ever ask is to be with him—be loved by him. "This mortal is already yours," you profess, "yours alone."

With a hitched breath, shock befell the wine god—as if your words were so hard to believe, as if he hadn't at all expected you to love him all the same.

Soon, however, his wide eyes are broken by a joyful grin, his senses coming to reality. He wastes no time pulling you into his arms, the motion of which sends a momentary shock of pain through you. The both of you are reminded of your aching side, and Hoseok, immediately frantic, pulls away in a hurry, clumsily sending you both into the cold water.

Damn that soldier for ruining the moment.

Resurfacing with a gasp, you find him with his wet tresses stuck to his mortified face, which compels you to fix your own wet hair. “Are you alright?!” he asks, still oblivious to his ridiculous appearance as he keeps you at an arm's length to look you over.

With the pain long gone, you couldn't help the endearing laugh that escapes your lips as you sweep his hair back from his forehead like you did yours. A soft smile becomes his wordless assurance, which slowly eases the furrow in his brows.

He then saves face by reaching out to you, this time carefully pulling you into his arms. Your legs secure around his waist and Hoseok happily spins the two of you around, the water easily allowing the both of you to float idly. You gleefully laugh once more, and he nuzzles his head into the side of your face, planting a trail of kisses in his wake. "I've been yours," Hoseok's lips tenderly swears this against your skin, pulling away to look at you with eyes twinkling brightly. "I'll always be yours."

In no time, his lips captured yours in a sweet and soft dance that sent the butterflies in your belly soaring. There's a faint, salty taste of the sea on your lips, and the grip he has around your waist tightens in the name of protectively pulling you closer. Your hands find purchase around his neck, taking the time to weave your fingers through his black tresses. Your heart racing even more as your head goes light with bliss. You could hardly think at the moment.

Hoseok, sensing your human need for air, pulls away to let you breathe, forehead resting against yours as you were left gasping. “I meant every word I said,” he then murmurs against your lips. “I’ll make you a goddess, my love.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your mind drifted to an indecipherable haze. You realize now that even without his wine, you were drunk—drunk in his love and devotion.

His fingers dance along your arms until both hands weave themselves with yours, unraveling your hold around his neck. “I will etch my name all over Greece, so much that they can no longer ignore it,” he vows, a certain maddened mischief sparking in his eyes as he raises a brow at you. “Will you join me?”

You realize then that your hands and body have been pinned against something—one of the cave's walls—as your newfound lover awaits your response. A shiver runs down your spine—an indication of thrill.

Mirroring his spirit, you grin and lean close. “Of course, I will, silly,” you muse, playfully rolling your eyes as you lean away just a little inch to look at him with such soft eyes that it makes him melt. "Wherever you go," you sweetly hum, forehead resting against his, "I'll be there, just as you have been with me."

Hoseok's grin is instant, shining brightly like the sun. "What an honor," he blissfully sings, lovingly tugging you into his arms and lips yet again.

In the loom of life, a bright thread fully weaves with a dull one, effectively making it brighter, too, and from now till eternity, they’ll be strands entangled together.

What a blessed woman you are.

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ | END.

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dreamamubarak @unknownwalkingobject @park-jimin-isnt-real

[forcebookish]

hii sorry I know this is random but I just need to have a laugh with someone. I'm cackling so hard at people taking that .2 second clip from the trailer of mew "smirking" (when it ended up not even being a smirk) when top was backhugging him and using it as proof of him being some kind of manipulator when the actual scene was him being heartbroken and feeling every possible insecurity. theories are fun but this is why you should not base all your opinions on them bc most of the time they are not true at all.

OMG RIGHT? i remember when people were saying that, i was like... you guys know what a sad smile is, right? like, i think you're being too generous calling it a theory, anon, it was just clown shoes🤣

i keep seeing a lot of folks in fandom, like, not knowing what smiles or other simple facial expressions are... i swear it's like androids from outer space trying to understand human emotions lmao

this smile, however?

absolutely scheming. idk if top's going to be one of his targets (i hope not!!!!!!😭😭), but definitely boston. that recording is getting leeeeeeeeaked, honey. which i guess might also be bad for top😭 maybe it'll instead be the video that drake (i don't remember his character's name soz) recorded🤔 if nick helps mew on his revenge scheme like book (? at least i think it was book) hinted, nick might hack drake's phone/computer to get it and ruin boston's dad's campaign.

mew is in full scorched earth p'det mode and i love that for him, but i hope top doesn't get too burned 😭💔

speaking of theories, i accurately predicted that mew would find out from the recording (and, at least since ep5, he'd get it from ray who got it from sand - although i NEVER would have predicted sand STOMPING ON HIS PHONE SO HE COULD USE NICK'S TO SWIPE THE RECORDING... girl you didn't have to do all that😭 aren't you poor😭 just say your phone is broken and that you need to make a private call or something omg he truly lost his mind), soooo i'm hoping i'm right that it's just a clip and not the whole thing - and when mew hears the context will realize that top was cornered and coerced.

i mean... we keep only hearing the moaning parts and mew was specifically upset about top and boston laughing behind his back about being a virgin - when top only slept with boston because he thought mew was NOT a virgin, because boston TOLD HIM mew wasn't. there's no way he heard that part, right? RIGHT??😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IT HAS TO BE

thanks for stopping by, anon!💖 i too was thinking of that 🤡"theory"🤡 after finishing the episode, glad someone else had a laugh about it🤭

[shoto-brainrot]

N s fw Sero headcanon? And ramblings

This boy, is so good at fingering. I don't know, i justt feel it in my bones. And if he's inexperienced, he would pick it up fairly quickly.

Why?

(bear with me)

Think about it, he has to be super dextrous with his tape and all. I think he's naturally developed the ability to sense tension and pressure just due to mastering his quirk. I'm 100% sure he's taped other kids and he's had to learn what is and isn't comfortable. I imagine his little friends have asked him to tape them to the wall or suspended them to pull some mission impossible shenanigans.

But also!!!

I can imagine him cutting his tape into smaller strips and doing all sorts of fun stuff with it growing up, such as making little puppets or tripwire. The pranks would absolutely get more elaborate with time and I think his fingers are so fucking clever from it.

But on top of that, I think he's empathetic, able to deduce how things would feel for others because he seems to be very socially aware (cough, typical Leo cough). You guys remember that little smirk he had before showing off his room? Mf knows what he's doing.

Look at him! This is after all the girls praised him for his room!

His roooommmmm, it screams chill. He's always smiling and that makes me think he does it for others and retreats to his room to recharge and relax.

Anyway, what I'm saying is, he would start slow, swiping his middle finger over your clit and gauging your reaction before he methodically adds pressure and rhythm. I imagine his other fingers would gently graze all over while you quiver under his touch. Ugh, he would be so confident, ahhh. The first time, he would only dip his fingers in after you were absolutely slick from his teasing. Then he would curl it, testing pressure and motion until you whined.

I think he would be intuitively good at it ;-;

But once he figures out your pattern, he'll dive in every time 😭 this dude is the type to get as many out of you we he can, back to back. You're gonna have to pry his off of you once he sees how you convulse under him. And omg, he'd drag you in a closet or bathroom when the mood hits him. If you're too loud, he might just put some tape on your mouth ;)

(and tease you about it too, whispering in your ear while he's knuckles deep inside you 🫠)

But honestly, it's nice because he takes great pride in what he does. If you're not a shaking, quivering, soaked mess but the time he's done, then what's the point?

And one last thing. He's got stamina ;m;

Yeah, those arms are wicked strong. He uses them to pull himself around everyday, fingering you for as long as you want is no sweat (btw, he's got insane core muscles 👀). He considers it a workout for his forearms. And he's gotta work out both, right? Asdfghjk

Love this man. Sero-tonin.

Did I mention he loves when you moan his name in bed?