#unable to stop thinking about greek mythology for 10 seconds

[dollar-store-kazoo]

Apollo :) my fav Greek deity

Based off this statue:

[m0chigang]

June Wrap Up ✨

We're back at it again. I will admit I didn't read as much as I wanted to BECAUSE I am still reading too many fanfics (just today I started and finished one). Since it was pride month I tried to keep it LGBTQ+ (as if I don't read gay stuff on a daily basis). I read 4 books (if we count fanfics, I read 8 books), and as always, be careful because I might spoil something.

1. The Atlas Six - 4/5

Honestly, I though I was going to like it more, but the open ending just left me shocked and unable to think. HOWEVER, that does not erase the fact that I love the characters of this book??? Well, I love 4-5 characters, the other ones are just there and I tolerate them. Reina, just like her name, is a freaking queen, I want to be her, I want to be Mother. Parisa is just, wow. Bisexual representation right there, and the trio scene?? My jaw was on the FLOOR. Now I just need her to have an orgy with all of them. Dalton is hot. But the real deal are Nico and Gideon. I don't know how to explain my smile whenever they interacted. And the shit the said about each other?? Excuse me??? Just get married. Nico is one of my favourite characters of the year. Not just book, year.

2. Aphrodite made me do it - 4/5

This is a poetry/narration book and it's so good. It even made a friend of minr cry in the middle of the street. It's just weird seeing some of your own fears on paper like that, and the references to greek mythology are just amazing. My favourite poem is the Achilles one (obviously). I'm already reading the second one, and these are books I'm willing to collect.

3. The Uncensored Picture Of Dorian Gray - 3/5

I was on a Ben Barnes lock down, I obviously had to re read this bc I only read it for school and remembered NOTHING, but I chose the uncensored version. If you are going to be gay, do it well 😤. After giving it some thoughts, I see why people love it, it certainly makes you react, and Basil is the best, but like... The way the ending is written is a bit anticlimactic for me. Wilde spent paragraphs describing, but the ending felt to quick. Idk, I think I am not made for classics.

4. They Never Learn - 2/5

Listen, I was all in for a vigilante killer teacher. But this book was not it (I have a lot of thoughts and there are spoilers). It frustrated me more than anything. On chapter 10 I was already bored, but I kept reading bc I was promised dark academia and queer representation. It fell flat. Like, I know men ain't sh*t, but like, the only good men in the book are the gay couple. Everyone else is a predator. And Scarlett is a freaking hypocrite, that made me so mad. Also, the twists were predictable, but maybe it was just for me bc I am just that good. What bothers me the most is the fact that there is nothing darrk academiaish about it when I was promised that. The ending and the relationship are too idealistic. Where is my suffering?? WHERE???? ALSO, why is one of the genres of the book Lesbian when the characters are bisexual?? I know it's a lesbian relationship, but still, the characters don't stop being bisexual for it.

[k-knightt-blog]

Co-star - Tom Hiddleston One-shot

Request: Hello darlin! I really love your posts and I was hoping you would do a one shot where Tom is on set and the reader is his love interest in the movie and they hook up after a few months of liking each other. Thank you darlin!!

Wordcount: 1,700+

Warnings: A tad NSFW

“I can’t believe this!” You rummage through your handbag and your array of jackets hanging off hooks as you come into your trailer. You had just exited a lovely warm shower, and now your mood was ruined. “Y/n for the love of god please tell me you didn’t leave your phone with him!” You throw your bag on the couch and sit down on it as well, sulking. You go through the day, or the last few hours of the day, to try and remember where you might have left your iPhone. Hoping it wasn’t in Tom’s trailer. It comes to you within seconds. You and Tom had a close up scene where your characters were confessing your feelings for each other. Tom offered to keep your phone in his pocket because your 50s inspired dress didn’t have any pockets, in which you had replied, “Why on earth is the fifties unable to give women pockets?” Since none of your character’s outfits had them. Tom had laughed at this as he slipped the phone on his deep blue slacks.

You had forgotten to collect it from him after the shooting had wrapped earlier this evening. You two had even been out for dinner with some other cast mates, and he had failed to mention that he still had your phone. “He can be such an arse sometimes!” You say in an annoyed voice. Always when you’re stressed or frustrated you talk to yourself, a habit you hated and tried to unlearn. But Tom thought it very useful because he quote unquote wouldn’t be able to figure out what you were thinking if you didn’t have a running commentary on it.

You figured that’s why he looked so smug at the restaurant, he knew you had forgotten all about the whereabouts of the phone. He knew you’d have to come knocking on his trailer late in the evening. What was he planning? Warmth spread to your cheeks. You had to admit that there’s been some tension between the two of you, perhaps sexual tension or perhaps just a simple attraction. He was a charming man, and you found him attractive even before you had met him.

You had heard from several people that he was quite lonely, but that it was his choice. A lot of people could call him their friend but a very few numbers could say that they really knew him. As for the women in his life, there weren’t any of the romantic sorts. They came and went, but nobody got close. That scared you, that scared you a lot. Because it was hard not to fall for him, you two had so much in common. You had also studied classics, but not at Cambridge like near noble Tom had. You spent the spare time in each other’s company, discussing Greek mythology, the Illiad and more modern written works by Shakespeare and the Brontë sisters. What if he would just discard of you after some months together? You weren’t up for getting your heart broken. That wasn’t a good combination with your fast-paced life in London.

You sensed that he wanted you, he was always touching you in one way or another. While you walk together he ghosted his hand on your waist. When you groaned because your aching shoulder was acting up, he would massage it for you. He would put strands of hair behind your ears. You noticed that when your characters had kissing scenes he would be more intense, he wouldn’t use the kissing method actors used. He’d kiss you for real, tugging at your hair and clothes. You had kissed your fair share of handsome actors and none of them had kissed you like this like they weren’t acting. He was being slightly unprofessional, which you had also heard wasn’t like him. You weren't exactly innocent either, you would tease him in all the ways you could.

You need your phone, it was your alarm clock and all around entertainment for the night to come. You groan as you stand up, you flatten skirt of your basic dress, put on a jacket, your shoes and walk out the trailer. It’s grown colder, you could see your breath in front of you. A few minutes later you arrive at Mr Hiddleston’s trailer and you’re irritated now, but there’s excitement bubbling in your stomach. The lights are on, it’s not that late, it’s only 10 pm. With a silent prayer, said hastily under your breath you knock on the door. It opens nearly straight away, and it reviles a newly showered Tom. His hair was still damp, his cheekbones nearly glittering in the light. You unconsciously bite your lower lip. “And to what do I owe the pleasure darling?” He draws out the darling in a sensual way, and you huff, wishing he would stop smirking. “You’re holding my phone hostage.” You simply say as you pass him in the doorway, inviting yourself in and out of the cold. “Good to know you’re not a vampire.” He chuckles and closes the door behind you. “Very witty today, aren’t we Hiddleston,” You say as you face him, provoked that he had lured you to his trailer. “Phone please,” You reach out your hand awaiting its return. “Why the rush Y/n?” He moves past you into the small kitchenette, but not before gracing his hand against your side. Damn this man. “Fancy a whiskey? I’ve got the one you like, the non-smokey one.” You roll your eyes at him and sit down on the sofa, “Might as well.” He grins at you like he’s achieved a small victory of sorts.

He walks towards you with two glasses with ice and a generous amount of whiskey in them. “You know, I really thought you would remember that you left your phone with me,” He gives you the glass, clinking his with yours, “But I’m glad you didn’t, I’m always happy to have you alone.” He takes a sip of his whiskey, “You had this planned didn’t you,” You give him a smirk, and he blushes slightly, looks down at his glass and then back up at you. Confidence rises in you like the sea, “You’re supposed to be a gentleman, and not use my forgetfulness against me.” You also take a sip from the glass, the amber liquid burning your throat, but in a good way. ”I’m always a gentleman, Y/n.” He’s sitting close to you now, you could smell his cologne. Sandalwood, white musk. You raise an eyebrow, “I have a hard time believing that, darling.” You mock his posh accent and he laughs.

It’s nearly 12 when you reach for your phone to check the time. The two of you had been drinking whisky and talking for almost two hours. The flirting was always evident in your conversation, but now it was the sole purpose of the talk between you. You were discussing Tom’s style, how he would look so good in rounded glasses. “Don’t get me wrong, you look good in those,” You point to his face, he chuckles, “But think how good you’d look in round Tom Ford ones. Think Daniel Radcliffe in Kill Your Darlings.” You quickly reach for your phone and show him what you mean. “You’re right, I really like those.” He says as he rolls his wrist, sloshing the amber liquid around in his hand. “Did I nudge Tom Hiddleston into changing his much loved visual image?” You eye him up, and for effect, you sway your hand over his silhouette. Tom lets out a laugh at your display of sass. “You know you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, I've basically got your name written on the bottom of my shoe.” He moves closer, you felt his hot breath against your lips, “Darling,” Your eyes flicker to his lips, and your thoughts get invaded by how soft they look, how soft you know they are. You want him, but you didn’t want to show him that he was making you like this. You weren’t one to just fall at a guy's feet like this. He’ll only hurt you.

Tom’s hand snake around your neck, softly caressing the warm skin he found there. He’s looking at you with want, his pupils dilated with lust. You suspect yours are just as reviling. His large hand move its way to the side of your face. It feels so good to be wanted like this, your heart is beating fast in your chest. As his other hand ghosts at your side. Tom leans closer than before, “You’re overthinking,” Your eyes flash towards him, “I-,” You can’t spill your fears now, it’ll ruin the mode. You just shake your head, trying to convince him that you weren’t doing what he had accused you of. You let it slip anyway, “I don’t want to be a one night stand, I-“ He cuts you off and demands you to look up at him, he looks sad and a little caught off guard. 

“Y/n, I don’t do casual, I never have. I didn’t plan this situation because I was going to have my wicked way with you,-“ You cut him off, “I don’t understand, don’t you want to?” He laughs a little and it confuses you even more, of course, he notices. “Of course I do, I have every intention of ravishing you tonight. But this,” He points at himself and then at you, “Isn’t just about sex,” Your lip quivers, “What is it about then?” He offers you a gentle smile, which coaxes a smile from you as well. ”I would like to think that this is about love,” He shakes his head, “I’ve tried to make you see how I feel, I feel like a scared teenager right now,” You laugh at this because it was exactly what you were feeling. “You’re everything I want.” He says this with such honesty that there isn’t any part of you that doesn’t believe him. You smile at him, “You’re,” You hesitate, sharing your feelings have never been your strong suit. But playing out your characters’ feelings seems the most natural thing to you. Tom’s hand is playing with your hair, patiently waiting for you to finish your sentence, “You’re everything I want too.” He grins, “Can I kiss you?” Words fail you and you simply nod. He smiles against your lips, adding pressure as his mouth cover yours. The kiss deepens and you slip your hands up his neck, one settling in his now dry hair.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Αιώνια αγάπη (DT AU), pt. 10*

10: Hecate

Summary: What is dead doesn’t always remain dead. And what choices seem sealed in stone, don’t always remain that way. Y/N’s choice will shock them both.

Warnings: death, blood, fluff, angst, swearing, SMUT

Word count: 7.4k

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Special thanks to @mutuallynotmutual for being in the story as Alyssa, @leonardo-da-vinsheep as Perry, ​@godlydolans as Yashi and @daddygraysonsbitch as Sara.

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Αιώνια αγάπη (DT Modern Greek god/frat! AU) MASTERLIST    

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Hermes could feel his blood boil as if he has been dragged to the Underworld and the torture had begun - once a torturer and now the torturé . It's been there a while now, this anger, escaping when he least expects it which results in all those historically horrid things he had done, posing as if it's all for the cause, but it isn't and it never was. Y/N changed that. She changed most of his self-destructive behavior and showed him the light, made him want to be a better man - deserving of her.

In a way, he missed home too. He'd never admit to it out loud because he didn't understand it himself, mostly because he never quite fit in with everyone in Mount Olympus, only with a few down below. It felt strange...the longing for home and vengeance finally erased as he laid his eyes upon the strange bookworm who was born a legacy to more than just a sorority. He found himself enthralled, dedicated, prepared to do anything - even kill, just to keep her safe.

And then she chose his brother.

Perhaps she didn't say the words, but she proved it by sleeping with him. He didn't doubt Hecate's words, believing her on the spot which is exactly what brought his anger back, allowing it to take over and spread like wildfire as he drenched his hands in blood. His once-long forgotten wife, breaking every vow he gave her. True, he did the same with Yashi, and while she never spoke a word of her choice, he knew in his heart he'd be the one because she gave herself to him in all the ways a woman could share her affections.

Y/N did the same. Just not with him.

He stopped at the top of the stairwell, noticing the house that's usually vibrant and filled with a dozen or so voices at all times is now quiet and empty. He stopped at the top, fearing what he'll see will send him into the deep end.

He hears tiny screams, giggly almost from the end of the hall, hiding newly made lovers from view and although he doesn't want to see it, he needs to. Refocusing his fear of a broken heart back to anger, he clenches both fists and heads straight for the door, opening it with ease and as quietly as possible.

The view he's met with is different than what he expected, but just as heart-wrenching.

Y/N is giggling, running from one side of the bed to the other, her arms outstretched and hands open with palms turned to a breathless Apollo, who is clearly chasing after her. Neither of them are fully dressed, their underwear on display and in Y/N's case, deep purple marks draw Hermes' attention as they are littered on her hips and her thighs.

Hermes watches without interruption, standing there with his hands on his hips, a dark look in his brown eyes as he glares at their happy little bubble, hoping it bursts violently and makes their happiness turn sour.

Apollo lifts Y/N by her hips, placing his hands just above the bruises he left by accident - unaware just how much stronger he is than her. He had little control once he let himself feel everything in its entirety, but he vowed to be more careful next time. If there is a next time.

Spinning her around, Y/N's face falls as she set her eyes on a steaming Hermes, slapping her palms across Apollo's arms that wrapped so tightly about her, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he pressed his lips into the soft flesh with vigor.

Once he noticed his brother standing at the door as well, he stopped like a whip lashed across his back. They stared at the dark figure Hermes became, both with mouth open and eyes wide, caught in the act and guilty as fuck. Y/N's cheeks turned a shade darker, her heart beating so strongly that it moved her chest physically, beating wildly enough for it to be visible just by glancing at her.

"Oh, don't stop on my account." Hermes all but chuckles in his sarcastic and unusually light, slightly pitched tone, both his arms raised in mock surrender.

"I'm just out there trying to make sure Y/N doesn't end up like Hecate's body double while you're fucking each other's brains out, no biggie." He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as the pout on his lips tugged sideways into a small, crooked smile.

"Hope you used condoms." Hermes sneers, stepping closer so fast Y/N barely has a chance to react as he stops before her, his eyes barely flickering down toward her as he gets into Apollo's face, both breathing heavy as she finds herself stuck in between two broad gods who wanted to rip each other apart.

"Ethan stop." She whispers, unable to raise her voice as her mouth is as dry as Sahara and her heart's new pace is making her dizzy.

"Think you're so sleek, using the chance to manipulate her into fucking you when she just suffered a tremendous loss? Huh?" Hermes speaks through gritted teeth, specks of spit passing through as well as the words, landing on Apollo's cheek.

Y/N raises her hands to Hermes' chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating as well, hoping she can convince him to step back. But even when she gives him a little push, she barely moves him. He's as unmovable as a mountain, but he isn't blind to her being in a very dangerous position. Grabbing her by the arm, he moves her out the way, standing tall and menacing before his brother, his built in best friend and partner in crime for centuries now.

"Maybe it's time we stop playing nice." Hermes utters, making Y/N's heart fall. Apollo keeps his eyes on his brother, seeing he is more hurt than angry, knowing he is very much the reason why he feels that way.

"No. Stop. Ethan, please. Let's just talk things out? I'm sorry I slept with him, but I'm not sorry I love him." Her voice breaks, her words amplifying the pain and the damage on his heart growing.

"Or you." She adds, stumbling toward him. Standing on his right side, she places a hand on his left shoulder and another on his right cheek tenderly.

"Because I do love you. With all my heart. Both of you." She admits, hearing just how insane she seems, but it's true. She loves them, almost immeasurably and contrary to what she believed before knowing them, you can love more than one person at the same time.

"Both of us?" Hermes turns to her, his left eyebrow raising as he pulls his lips into a sneer.

"I did not just kill Hecate for you to say you love us both!" Raising his voice at her, Y/N stumbles back, clearly frightened by the outburst which prompts Apollo to push Hermes away from her in his dire need of protecting Y/N. He's never seen his brother so angry since they arrived on Earth, unable to predict what he might do.

But Y/N would not be intimidated. She stopped, huffed and proudly stepped closer despite the lack of clothes on her body she was so used to hiding but now flaunts after Grayson's lips gave her the confidence to embrace all the flaws she hated.

"Truth is, there are two types of men in this world." She raises one finger and cocks her head to the side, sharing a look with Hermes. "First are those who never love anyone more than they love themselves. They're virtually only with a woman for sex and an ego boost." She purses her lips and raises a second finger, looking to the other brother. "Second are those who fall in love five times a day and never truly commit to a woman. They're clueless about what they really want and unable to stop their wandering eyes." She gives him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. "And I'm still trying to figure out which category you two belong to."

Drawing in a deep breath, she presses her lips together.

"Maybe both, perhaps a third one? Either way, I need you two to stop fighting over me like I'm a prized possession. Because, yes, it's not ideal and I might not understand it myself, but I just realized I love two gods - Apollo AND Hermes, despite all the shit you've done and covered up and all the stories about you throughout history and mythology." Folding her arms over her chest, just under her bra, Y/N raises her right eyebrow.

"Now stop bickering, because we can work on this later. I'm more curious about you saying you've killed Hecate?" Pausing, she purses her lips, content they're both quiet and obedient in the moment, even smirking at their calmness.

However, once neither of them moved an inch, Y/N felt something isn't quite right. It's a gut feeling, the type that makes you nauseous and drives you to the brink of madness the longer it lasts.

"Guys?" She opened her palms, waving before their eyes in vain as they stared ahead where she stood moments before, unresponsive.

She turned around, looking out the previously bright morning sky that had turned to a charcoal cloud. Then she heard it, the thunder rolled across the malevolent sky. The untamed power reverberated and echoed across the neighborhood, flashing lighting following.

Swiftly turning back to the frozen gods, she slapped them both across the face in one move, rushing to her window in a haze as they frowned at one another, rediscovering reality.

"Oh, wow. Hermes?" She calls out, waving him over whilst continuing.

"Thought you said she died." Looking down, it's impossible to miss a horde of the undead under her window, her own Kappa sisters seemingly a part of the entourage, but so are the KDRs. Hecate stands front line, staring at the window with a blank facial expression, her dress drenched in a dark maroon, her eyes as stormy as the sky.

Moving past the gods, Y/N grabs the first thing at hand, her discarded clothes on the floor and puts them on before heading for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Stunned, they finally speak and in unison at that, rushing after their beloved who seemed to be on a mission. A suicide mission.

"To end this." She replies, slamming the front door open as she steps into a horror show.A living nightmare. The wind whipped around and sent locks of her hair flying back, some sidetracking to her face before joining the rest of her hair at the back.

Not lacking confidence, absolutely sure of herself, she walks toward Hecate with a furious look on her face before stopping few inches short of her.

"Hecate." She states, her face softening infinitely before throwing her arms around the old goddess, her blood, bringing her into her arms enthusiastically. She held on tight, slowly looking around the lined up zombies.

"I thought you were gone. Oh, I'm so happy you're alright." Y/N's high pitched voice and reaction disarms Hermes, his entire body trembling. Unable to comprehend, he watched the scene unravel, shocked beyond belief. Apollo on the other hand is completely out of his mind, moments before deciding to do the unforgivable and kill Hecate himself, terrified she might turn on Y/N.

"I'm not that easy to kill. Had my husband ever cared to talk to me, he'd know that." She smiled genuinely, happy to have her blood on her side as she releases her from the hug Y/N imposed on her but she embraced wholeheartedly.

"STOP CALLING ME YOUR HUSBAND", Hermes shouts out, no more holding back his anger. After all, his girl - his real girl is in danger. Even if her stubborn ass doesn't know it yet.

"But you are. A lecherous husband, but a husband nonetheless. Gods don't divorce. We don't part for as long as we live, which is forever if I may remind you." Hecate snickers while Y/N looks around, finding Perry to her right, Sara and Alyssa both to her left, a few feet apart. Neither of them seem to be zombies, merely spelled into obedient minions.

"After all, I am not like the rest of you. I am a necromancer! I am the offspring of two titans! I can only be killed by that blade, true...but only if my own blood wields it!" As if on cue, Y/N saw the blade in question in Hecate's possession. Well, one of her zombified creatures - a woman held it.

A woman of five feet and seven inches, lips steady in a grimace and a small freckle on her cupid bow now stark contrast to her grey skin. Black braids fall around her face, creating a more looming figure instead of the beautiful one she used to be. Her eyes are black, surrounding the yellow pupil, now soulless and lifeless. She tilts her head, revealing one golden earring now corroded instead of its usual sparkle.

While Y/N doesn't know her, Hermes does. He saw where Y/N looked toward, recognizing his almost lover from so long ago he forgot how she looked like. Until now. But her memory is now tainted, her beauty eclipsed by death. Yashi.

Apollo saw her too, but he was more worried about what Y/N is trying to do. He knew she didn't like Hecate nor did she want her in her life any longer. In fact, he was quite certain she'd try something stupid which will only get her hurt. And that wasn't an option for him. He'd rather die a thousand deaths than watch her hurt, even for a single moment.

As predicted, Y/N threw herself at the zombified Yashi, tearing not only the dagger but her hand off as well. She managed to push the knife into Hecate's side, hearing her groan and her breath hitch as she turned around with a betrayed, hurt look on her face. Raising her palm, a faint purple light comes to life, blasting Y/N backwards into the zombie horde. If Hecate dies, she's taking Y/N down with her.

However, once the blade pierced her heart, the blast being last of her magic, all the creatures she brought to life turned to ashes. Hecate herself turned into nothing more than a pile of ashes the wind blew away in one swept-move, the sky clearing up as all the sorority girls and frat guys passed out cold.

Apollo and Hermes set of running toward their one true love, each lifting one part of her up to help her stand. She groaned and her entire body hurt - not entirely Hecate's doing, but she was in pain and she did need a break from all the crazy for a while.

"You okay?" Hermes asked, sharing a concerned look with his brother before they both looked to her with worry on their faces.

Nodding, Y/N chuckled, allowing herself to lean onto her men and enjoy the victory.

"Yeah, but...can I still call you Ethan and Grayson? Kinda fits you." She smiled fondly, noticing Ethan's lip spread into a slightly wider smile as she used his human name first. So competitive...

"You can call me a douche and I'd still come running." Grayson chuckles, undeniably happy she's safe and protected now, all the danger finally gone from their lives. In fact, even Ethan didn't mind sharing a little at this point, happy to have some piece of her love him back. He'd take anything she offers, as long as there is something to offer.

"Douche and a Pyromaniac", she hums to herself, walking back inside, avoiding their fellows on the ground.

"Tell them there was a party and they all got wasted?" Ethan suggests, getting two nods of approval.

They returned to their room, a small paradise for Apollo as he easily remembered Y/N writhing underneath his weight as he derived pleasure from all her moans. A small piece of hell for Hermes as he saw the blood stain on the bed, tearing the sheets off and putting fresh ones with Apollo's help.

Almost an entire day passed for them, all three asleep in a single bed, holding each other for dear life after the scare. However, Y/N found herself to be restless still, waking up in the middle of a very delicious sandwich. Throwing her leg across Ethan, she felt the floor at her tiptoes, using it to her advantage to stand up and walk outside. Little did she know she stirred the sleeping god awake, and he followed after her with a blanket to wrap her up in the cold autumn night.

"Sharing for a night is fine, but you do have to choose." Ethan speaks calmly, his voice raspy from the sleep.

"I know." She sighs, feeling Ethan wrap the blanket around her form, his arms following soon after. However, even with that knowledge, she wished for more time to find a loophole. It's selfish to want to keep them both, but she allowed herself such selfishness for a while. After all, she's been nothing if not selfless her entire life - she figured she could allow herself this small crime. Covering two brothers, gods at that. Wanting them both in every humanly way possible.

"But I want to enjoy this moment. When I have you both with me." She leans back, into his chest, her head reaching just a few inches below his chin. Turning in his embrace, Y/N stepped back to properly view his beauty. Untold by any artist, he stood as testimony of all nature's wonders.

She shattered his calm by smiling more deeply and holding out her hand. Instinctively, he took it, fingers closing firmly. Then he caught himself. His expression rigidly impassive, he looked down at her face, into her eyes, warm and alluring, and struggled to find some way to tell her this was madness. That, after all that went down between them, to stand together on this porch and look out at the drizzling rain was too dangerous. That he could no longer guarantee his behavior, his usual coolness under fire, his customary command - gentlemanly manors. No words sprang to mind as he was not capable of making such an admission of weakness. Even though it was true. But then he remembered she wasn't as pure, no longer a virgin. He didn't care much for the customs, but it destroyed his ego once he saw the blood on the sheets. If it had been anyone else but Apollo, he'd be fine with it.

Now? All he wanted was to erase his mark on her body.

Y/N gave him no time to wrestle with his conscience, she tugged. With no excuse forthcoming, Hermes inwardly sighed, allowing his firm chest to graze hers. She relaxed against him, warm and trusting, only to impinge on his senses in a thousand different ways. Her very softness tensed his muscles; her curves, fitting against him, within his arms, invoked his demons. He drew a steadying breath and her perfume washed through him, subtly evoking, enticing. Her hands slid over his arms, wrapped around her waist, and came to rest on his hands, her warm palms curved over the backs of his. Outside, the rain continued; inside them, heat rose.

Jaw clenched, Hermes fought to endure. He might have succeeded if she hadn't, without warning, pushed closer to him. On her tiptoes her lips were mere inches from his. Her body followed, sliding impossibly close; he tightened his grip, sank his fingers into soft flesh, but it was already too late. Her gaze had fixed on his lips. Desperation could reduce even the strongest to pleading. Even him.

"Y/N, I - " She cut him off, sealing his lips with hers.

Hermes fought to hold her back, but there was no strength in his arms, not for that maneuver. Instead, his muscles strained to crush her to him. He managed to stop himself from doing that, only to feel them sinking back into the couch the rest of the frats once said would be of no use...Well, he surely found the use as she wrapped her legs around his waist and started grinding down on him, her silky nightgown riding up her thighs.

Within seconds, they were close to horizontal, with her stretched against him, half-atop him. Hermes inwardly groaned. His lips parted, and she was kissing him and he was kissing her.

Gradually, he wrested back control, distantly aware that she relinquished the reins too readily. But the small victory encouraged him; he reminded himself that he was stronger than she is, infinitely more experienced than her and that he'd successfully managed women far more knowledgeable than she in this arena for years. He was in control. He rolled and pressed her into the cushions. She accepted the change readily, clinging to their kiss.

Hermes deepened it, plundering her mouth, hoping thus to calm the growing need swelling within him. He framed her face and drank deep; she met him, sliding her hands under his black T-shirt, spreading them, sending them over his chest, around his sides and back. His shirt was a small obstacle. Through it, her hands burned.

The final battle was so short, Hermes had lost it before he'd realized-and after that, he wasn't capable of realizing anything beyond the woman beneath him and the raging tide of his need. Her hands, her lips, her body, arching lightly beneath him, urged him on. When he pushed the straps of her gown to the sides, revealing her chest, he didn't care they were outside at 2 am.

Closing one hand around her breast, she only sighed and kissed him more urgently. Under his hand, her breast swelled; between his fingers, her nipple was a tight bud. She gasped when he squeezed, arched when he stroked. And moaned when he kneaded. Her softness filled his hand, filled his senses. Skin like soft silk teased him; the heated weight of her inflamed him. And her.

When he broke their kiss to raise his head and closely inspect the reward he'd won, she watched, eyes glinting from under heavy lids. Watched as his head descended and he took her into his mouth. He suckled, and her eyes closed. The next fractured gasp that filled the air was the first note of a symphony, a symphony he orchestrated. She wanted more, and he gave it, pushing aside the soft silk, drawing down to bare her breasts fully to the softly dim light, the gentle coolness of the air, and his heated attention. Beneath them, she burned, as in his dreams he'd imagined her doing, until she was hot and aching-and frantic for more. And he did dream of touching her since the day he met her.

Her small hands were everywhere, desperately searching, pulling his shirt over his head and greedily reaching, caressing, imploring. That was when he finally realized that control was far beyond him. He didn't have a shred left for she'd stolen it from him and thrown it away. She certainly had none. That was abundantly clear as, panting, her lips gloriously swollen, she drew his face to hers and kissed him voraciously. Half-beneath him, she lifted, her body caressing his, the oldest method of beckoning known to woman. She wanted him and heavens help him, he wanted her.

Now.

His body was rigid with need, tense and heavy with it; he needed to claim her, to slide into her body and find release. He pushed her nightgown up to her stomach, revealing her legs entirely. He couldn't focus enough to form a proper sentence, but he had to try. With a groan, Hermes pulled back from their kiss. On his elbows above her, he waited for her to open her eyes. When her lashes flickered, he drew a huge breath and lost it as her nipples brushed his expanding chest. He shuddered as she shivered, quivers rippling through her stomach to her thighs. His mind immediately focused on the soft haven between her short legs, experience supplying in gratifying detail just what her responses were achieving. He shut his eyes, he tried to shut his mind and simply speak. Instead, her voice reached him, clear, soft, siren-like, a whisper of pure magic in the heavily laden air.

"Show me how much you love me." Entreaty silvered the words. In the same instant, Hermes felt her fingers slide, glide, then gently close around his cock. Her tentative touch had him locking his jaw, locking every muscle against a raging impulse to ravish her. She seemed unaware of it; her gliding caress continued, destroying the last of his will.

"Show me what it means to be claimed by you", she whispered, her breath feathering his cheek. And then she breathed against his lips.

"Give. Me. All. Of. You. Now." That last small word vanquished the last of his resistance, the last remnant of caution, of cool command. Gone was any gentleman, letting the god take over. He understood his brother now, in every way possible - and he couldn't blame him. She was stunningly appealing and her demeanor, no matter how innocent, had alluring - magical way of manipulating a man.

He wanted her with every ounce of his body, every ounce of his blood. And she wanted him. Words were unnecessary. The only thing that still mattered was the manner of their joining. With ultimate victory assured, his demons and anger, those spirits that moved him, drove him were more than ready to lend their talents to achieving glory in the most satisfying way. Not control, but focused frenzy.

Y/N felt it. And gloried in it; in the hardness of the hands that possessed her breasts, in the hardness of his lips as they returned to hers. She clung tight, hands clutching, then pressing into the broad muscles of his back, a moment later sliding around to hungrily explore his chest. She wanted to know it all, now. She couldn't bear to wait, to drag out the frustration.

He was all heat and shockingly hot hardness. She wanted to draw him into her, to take his heat in and quench it, to release the fevered tension driving him, the same tension slowly suffocating her. She wanted to give herself to him. She wanted to take him into her body. She knew it and was long past denial. She knew this wasn't right, but she couldn't stop. So there was nothing to cloud her enjoyment of the moment, of him. She gave herself up gladly to the shiver of excitement.

Sharp delight was what she knew as his hands, hard and knowing, possessed her, tracing every curve, every soft mound. One hand slid beneath her waist, then slid lower to cup her bottom. Strong fingers kneaded, caressed, and warmth spread, pooling in her belly, her very blood. The hand slid lower, tracing the long curve of the back of her thigh all the way to her knee, then slid to the front, reversing direction. To her hip, to that sensitive join where thigh met torso. One finger gently, insistently, stroked downward along the crease and she shuddered, suddenly desperate for breath.

And then he was parting her thighs, gently but firmly spreading them to lavish soothing caresses along the sensitive inner faces. His lips had gentled on hers, allowing her to focus on each touch, each searing response. On the excitement, the frantic, barely reined passion that had both of them in its grip. Then his hand reached the end of his last caress and drifted higher, to stroke what only recently learned how a man's touch feels like. The shudder that racked her was pure excitement distilled in anticipation. Sinking into the soft couch, Y/N gasped and spread her thighs wider and felt the caresses grow firmer, more deliberate. More intimate, more evocative. The soft folds seemed slick; he parted them. Knowing fingers found a point, a nub of flesh, and bolts of delight spread through her.

Pressing her head back, she broke from their kiss. He let her go. He continued to play in the softness between her thighs as Y/N hauled in a too-shallow breath and fought to lift her lids. And once she did, she saw him, his face a mask of concentration etched with passion, watching his fingers as they stroked and twirled. Then one probed. The sound that escaped her was more gasp than moan, more scream than groan. He glanced at her face; his eyes locked on hers. She felt his hand press between her thighs and felt the intrusion of his finger, gently but insistently penetrating. She gasped again, and closed her eyes. He pressed farther, deeper. Then he stroked her inside-deep within, where she was all slick and hot and so full of desire. So full of molten passion. A passion he stirred, deliberately inciting.

On a shuddering moan, Y/N felt herself melt, felt her senses soar. Ethan heard her, felt her surrender and inwardly smiled, a touch grimly. She was trying his demons to the utmost; by now, most women new to the game would have gone over the edge, or, more likely, been so overcome by need that they would be begging him to take them. Not Y/N. She'd let him bare her completely, without any maidenly confusion and she seemed to enjoy writhing naked beneath him as much as he enjoyed having her do so. And now, when even experienced ladies might be expected to break, she was taking all he lavished on her and waiting for more. He gave her more, learning her intimately, filling his male senses with her feminine secrets. Slowly, he drove her upward, turning the wheel of the rack of excitement with practiced ease. Still, she didn't break.

She gasped, moaned, and arched and her eager body begged for more. Her needs were not those of the women he was accustomed to; as he took her further still. She was not, he realized, the innocent he had labeled her. Strictly speaking, she didn't, in fact, have very much of that commodity. She knew enough to know what they were doing, and to have made her decision.

Her character and its consequences. She was straightforward, assured, decided to taking what experiences life had to offer. To picking and choosing among the fruits of life's tree. And she'd chosen. Deliberately. This and him. That was what was different. For the first time, he felt chosen and he felt like he belonged.

Hermes looked at her, at her face lightly flushed with desire, at her eyes, glinting still from beneath heavy lids. And he couldn't breathe. From sheer lust, from sheer need. The need to be inside her. The need to claim her as his. With a soft oath, he drew his hands from her and shrugged himself free of his bottoms. She was simmering. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly; her skin was gently flushed. Naked, fully aroused, he saw her watch him. Not a single hint of shock showed in her face, even when he flaunted his large member. Her gaze slid down, over him, then slowly rose to his face. She lifted her arms. To him.

Hermes covered her body with his, took her lips in a searing kiss and eased himself into her. Condoms were the last thing on his mind, but they were still at the back of it.

"Condoms." He breaths out as she shakes her head.

"I want to feel you." She was hot and tight; she tensed as he tested how far she can stretch to take him. And cried out as, with one well-judged thrust, he breached her entirely. He held still, for one long, achingly tense moment, then she eased about him. Instinct claimed him as he thrust powerfully, deep into her body and claimed her.

Every sensation felt new, battering in on her mind, her overloaded senses, yet she clung to each thrill, each new intimacy, determined to miss nothing, determined to feel all. To know the sheer delight of his hard body heavy on hers, his chest hard, rasping against her sensitive nipples and the soft swells of her breasts. The glory in the hardness that filled her, the warm cock that pressed deep into her, stretching her, claiming her. To experience, with every gasp, with every desperate pant, the power with which he repeatedly drove into her, the flexing of his spine, the rhythmic fusing of their bodies. To sense her vulnerability, in her nakedness, in the weight that anchored her hips, in the blind wanting that drove her. To revel in the excitement, shamelessly hot, unquenchable passion that swelled, grew, built, then flooded them, a raging tide avidly seizing them. And to feel, deep within her, the unraveling of an anchoring force, more powerful than desire, more deep, more enduring, than anything on earth. That force, caught her and it caught him - the love no one could deny.

She gave herself up to it and bravely, eagerly, knowingly claimed it for her own. Ecstasy filled her - eagerly, she shared it, through her lips and their hungry kisses, through the worship of her hands, her limbs, her body. He did the same; she tasted it on his tongue, felt its heat in his body. Whatever he needed she gave, whatever she craved, he delivered. Mouth to mouth, breasts to chest, urgent softness gripping his hardness. On a groan, Hermes straightened his arms, and managed to find support enough on the couch to lift from her.

He drove himself into her, savoring every hot inch that closed about him, pausing for an instant to feel her throb around him, before withdrawing, only to thrust deeply again. And again. She writhed, heated and urgent beneath him. He'd never seen anything so beautiful as her, locked in passion's snare. She lifted and twisted, her head turning blindly from side to side as, inside, she sought release. He sank deep and pushed her higher, but still she held herself back from the edge, enduring the painful need for release. So did he.

And he wanted to watch her, so splendidly his, so gloriously abandoned of her usual timid smiles and pleasantries as she took him in and held him, as she gave herself to him for the first time. The sight stole his breath and more. He would have her again, many times, but none would be the same as this, as filled with emotion as this moment was.

He knew when the end was upon her, felt the keen edge of tension ready to explode and felt her walls closing in.

He drove into her, and let go, let his body do what came naturally and sent them both over the edge. And, at the last, he watched as the explosion of sensations took her. Gritting his teeth, he hung on for the last second, and saw her ease. Saw the lines of her face, drawn tight with passion, soften; felt, deep inside her, the strong ripples of her release. On a silent sigh, her body softened beneath him. The expression that washed over her face was that of an angel in the presence of the divine.

Hermes felt the shudders rack him. Closing his eyes, he let them, let her take him. He twitched inside her, thrusting once more as he pushed to the hilt, coming deep inside her with a low growl he hid once his lips dipped into the crook of her neck. It had been much more than he'd expected. It consumed every part of him, nothing left inside that didn't belong to her. He was hers, no denying it.

Breathing heavily, Hermes lifts his head and lazily smiles down at her, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before moving to stand. Instantly, her fingers wrap around his wrist as her eyebrows furrow.

"Trust me." He spoke gruffly, giving her the blanket to cover herself as he disappeared inside the house.

Y/N trembled at the sudden cold, already missing his body on hers. He brought such fire, a flame to her insides that could only ever compare to the fire Apollo evoked. But it wasn't the same. Apollo liked to take everything painfully slow, drive a woman mad with desire before quenching the thirst. Hermes builds the fire big and wild from start to finish, unapologetically creating an adventure of sorts. End result remains the same - bliss and confusion with a bit of guilt and a lot of morally questionable choices.

Pushing her nightgown straps up, she doesn't have a long time to think about it as Ethan walks out with a towel in his hand, sauntering toward her with a charming smile.

Gently, he taps her knees before leaning in to press a kiss on her forehead. His hands part her knees slowly, each to a side until she is exposed before him, all of his cum mixed with her own juices before him. Kissing the inside of her thighs, each twice, he used the warm towel to wipe her and clean the mess they created.

She watched him carefully, shuddering each time he comes close to her clit, her breath coming in ragged, short and labored.

Tossing it aside, he pulls her nightgown down, dressing himself as well before lifting her and placing her in his lap. Wrapping a blanket around them, he let the moment finally catch up with him. In all the time he's spent on Earth, he had never been as happy as he is now.

"How was it?" She breaks the silence, bringing Ethan back to reality, the same one where he could smell his cologne on her skin.

"Hm?" He mumbled, confused and out of it all. His mind was far away, too busy in a fantasy where he was the final choice.

"Being a god? In Mount Olympus?" She clarified, hearing his long sigh as a first response.

"Exclusive. Grandiose. Exquisite. Lonely. A little scary but also annoying. There were so many of us back then, rules being what we made them. We were worshiped, feared, admired. It felt...powerful. And it got to me...and Apollo. And it was virtually a paradise. But after that." Pausing, Hermes draws in a shaky breath as if the memories weigh heavily on his conscious.

"It was countless schemes to get back home, to find a loophole. We've done some horrible things. Unforgivable things. I don't think we ever learned. But we did find out what's love. With you." Tilting her head, Y/N looked up at him with teary eyes and a quiver of her chin.

"Have you never loved before?"

"There was one. She was someone who meant a great deal to me, but I didn't love her. Once you look at it closely, it was still for my own gain. She was there today. The girl with the blade. Yashi. They were all there - the descendants we've hurt." Ethan explained, licking his lips as he felt her heart speed up.

"But I know what love is. Thanks to you. I know it's more about wanting to give up on my own selfish goals to keep you happy and safe. It's about wanting to be there when you need me, no matter what. To hold you like this." He leans in, the tip of his nose brushing her cheek as she smiles widely, shyly hiding her face in the blanket.

"Awee. Don't go shy on me now. Not after what we just did." He chuckled into her neck, kissing it lightly as the sky started to clear and daylight break.

Just on time, Grayson opened the door in slight panic, only to relax visibly once his eyes took in her face...but then he noticed their disheveled hair and goofy smiles and he knew. He just knew she wasn't just his anymore and although he wanted to RIP his brother to pieces for even touching her, he couldn't make her unhappy by harming Hermes in any way. He promised himself to respect her choice, no matter what it is even though he didn't really want her to choose him anymore. He would settle for being the second best if that meant he got to hold her hand just a little longer. He didn't care if he never saw home again if he got a chance to grow old with her, start a family and make their own home. Nothing really compared to what he wished to create for her. With her.

"So, I guess it's time then." He spoke up, startling the couple into a standstill as he came closer and noticed the towel thrown to the side.

Biting his tongue, ignoring the sting in his heart, he cleared his throat.

"You should make the choice. I'm sure my brother agrees that the whole sharing is caring thing isn't working for us. It's dawn and it's time for one of us to truly have a chance to be with you." Stopping himself, Apollo glances over his shoulder to catch the first ray of sun.

"Once it happens, if I am the one chosen, remember you can always see me in the first light of dawn. I'll be there, watching over you, sending you a way out the darkness." Apollo offers her his hand to take, seeing her shake her head and her eyes fill with tears as she glides her hand in his.

"But if it's me you choose, you will always see me when the last light is at its end, offering you the comfort only night brings where you can be who you are in the dark and no one but me sees." Kissing her cheek once more, Hermes helps her stand as well, slipping his own in the free one.

"I don't wanna choose. Please don't make me." Y/N croaks, tears moments from flooding because she knows how this ends. She always did. There are two paths. The right and the left. Both look the same. But the outcome is different. Choices cannot be undone. Once chosen, can never be chosen again. The road is broken. It cannot be walked again. Once the road has been trodden, it shall disappear. You can pick one, but you cannot pick both.

"Please. I love you both, I can't choose." Her voice breaks, her eyes closing as they both whisper a faint "I love you" before saying a spell in Greek.

"Zeus, I have sinned. I have done my penance, the pure heart of Hecate's descent stands witness to the change in my own. Please accept this prayer and return the chosen one home." ("Ο Δίας, έχω αμαρτήσει, έκανα την έκκλησή μου, η καθαρή καρδιά της καταγωγής της Εκάτης είναι μάρτυρας της αλλαγής της δικής μου, παρακαλώ δεχτείτε αυτήν την προσευχή και επιστρέψτε την επιλεγμένη κατοικία".)

Her eyes are closed as she feels her chest shake under the immense pressure of the reality she'll have to face, her choice made for her even when she wished for just one more day. She had questions, dreams, plans to make thing work. But she had to make a choice that was not hers at all, saying a weak goodbye for the last time.

She feels it before she sees it, knowing the chosen one before opening her eyes.

In that moment while her eyes are closed and the ignorance is bliss, she feels her heart swell impossibly, growing as it threatens to burst and her tears are already running down her cheeks, dripping from her chin.

But they taught her to be brave and confident, to be more than she thought she could be. So she opens her eyes to face the truth just as the first day of sunlight hits her face, finding she had been left completely and utterly alone. Her hands are shaking cold, void of touch, proving she meant what she said.

She couldn't choose, because she loved them both just the same and now they've gone and left her alone in this world.

     ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~       ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~       ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~       ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Tags: @mutuallynotmutual @lanadeldolans @xalayx @accalialionheart @gia-kerks @historyheart  @heyits-claire @daddygraysonsbitch  @fallinginlove-16  @lanadeldolans @beautifulfound @thearachna-kid  @dinnerwiththedolans  @graydolan12 @justanotherfangurl272 @dxlansfxck  @godlydolans @flowery-dolan @dominatedolans @buckysjuicyplums @ethanhes @dolandolll @dolanstwintuesday

[sunyoonandstars]

BTS scenario 10: Meeting their soulmate for the first time || You x Jungkook

This piece of fiction is based on a lovely request that reached me just yesterday. However, I was so touched and inspired by it, I felt the urge to start working on it immediately. 

Here is what I came up with. @ soulmate anon -- I dearly hope I managed to meet your expectations and that this little story of mine turned out to be even half as beautiful as what you imagined it to be. 🙏🏻💜

Scenario Jungkook is driven by the desire to, one day, meet his soulmate. However, he had not imagined it to happen so soon …

“Jungkook’s eyes met yours only for a brief moment. Still, this split second was all it took to send a surge of thrilling heat through his entire body, the intensity of your gaze leaving every last fiber of his being vibrating and his veins tingling with what felt like a million of tiny electric shocks. He could have sworn his heart literally skipped a beat. Or two. At least. Because those eyes weren’t just any eyes. They were the eyes. The eyes which had been haunting his dreams ...”

FLUFF

word count 2.159

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” 

― Plato, The Symposium

„I mean, I know you’re still young, but I had no idea you’re so naive, Jungkook-ah“, Yoongi muttered, shaking his head as he affectionately patted the Golden Maknae’s back. 

„Why? Why is it ‚so naive‘ of me to want to hold on to the idea that there’s actually a soulmate for me somewhere out there? That there is a person I am meant to be with?“, the younger one snapped back, freeing himself of the rapper’s arm casually thrown around his shoulders, eyes wide and nostrils flaring in a sudden surge of anger. The whole soulmate philosophy was no joke to him, so being teased about it really rubbed him the wrong way. 

„I don’t care what you think anyway“, he shrugged, not sparing Yoongi another glance in striding past him. „And I’m gonna prove you wrong. One day I’ll find her and show you just how foolish your ignorance was.“

Yoongi simply chuckled to himself, watching the younger man angrily walk away, fists clenched, head held high. To be honest, he admired his confidence, even envied him for it. These days, romance was dead. Yet, a young, unusually successful, world-renowned singer and dancer, an idol adored and being fantasized about by millions, the virtual epitome of a generation hungry for instant gratification and deadly afraid of any kind of attachment seemed to believe in the idea of The One. A thought equally hopeful and saddening. 

One could only wish the young man’s spirit would not be broken by this longing for his counterpart ...

The past few days and weeks had been stressful. 

Even now the group was en route to yet another promotional event in Japan, seated in a company van once again headed straight for the airport. Yoongi slept in the backseat, bucket hat placed over his eyes to shield his face from the daylight, Namjoon had put his headphones on as soon as they’d stepped outside the dorm, Taehyung was intently watching the latest episode of one of his favorite anime series’, while Hoseok was focused on reading a book a fan had given to him at a recent meet and greet and Jimin sedulously went through the countless comments fans had left under a selfie of his posted on Twitter just about an hour ago. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to focus on anything in particular. Thanks to Seoul’s early morning rush hour, the ride to the airport dragged on, the car moving excruciatingly slowly through the traffic jam. To pass the time the youngest had tried to keep himself busy by playing a game, listening to music, checking his social media accounts, even reading the news. To no avail. Nothing seemed to be able to spark his interest, let alone keep his mind occupied. Jungkook quickly got distracted, his thoughts drifting back to the haunting dream he’d awoken from in the middle of last night with a racing heart. Ever since then he’d been on edge, highly irritable, unable to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. He had no idea how he was supposed to get through their performance today. Distraction and failure would not be tolerated. 

Jungkook couldn’t quite point his finger at what it was exactly. But something kept twisting in his chest. It was a strange sensation, unfamiliar to him. As if his heart kept jumping, stuttering or rather fluttering for no reason at all. Or so he thought. 

Maybe it had something to do with this peculiar dream of his, after all. If one could actually call it that. It was rather just a lingering mental image of nothing more than a pair of eyes. The most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Deep and bright, full of hope, warmth, compassion and understanding, intelligence and spirit. Sparkling. Magnetic. Jungkook could still clearly see them before him whenever he as much as blinked. They seemed so real, almost tangible, he had to keep reminding himself that they were only a figment of his imagination. 

„Earth to Jungkook. Hello-o? Earth to Jungkook!?“

He was jolted out of his wandering thoughts by a hand being waved so close in front of his face its form was blurred, out of focus. Annoyed, he brushed it aside, turning to face the person it belonged to.

„Yah, Jimin! Stop it!“

„Jungkook, we’re there. The van has been parked for minutes already. You should get out of the car or we’re gonna miss our flight.“

„Sure, sorry“, Jungkook simply mumbled, nodding his head, evading the older one’s gaze as he stepped out of the car, both feet landing firmly on the concrete. 

„What’s up with you today, Kookie? You’re so absentminded. It’s not like you.“ Jungkook merely shrugged and turned his back on Jimin while putting on his mask and hood, pulling the latter one deep into his face. 

„All right, then don’t tell me. But whatever’s bugging you, I hope you know you can always talk to me. About anything.“

„Yeah, thanks, Jimin. But it’s nothing, really.“

And with those words he departed, mending his pace to catch up with the other members, closely followed by a concerned Jimin, a ring of bodyguards quickly closing around the group of seven. 

As soon as they set foot inside the terminal, the young men automatically started following well-rehearsed and oftentimes-executed procedures, walking close together while the guards kept the crowd from running them down. The singers casually nodded, smiled and waved to their devoted fans who kept ruthlessly pushing and jostling each other in order to get even closer and a better look at their beloved idols.

The seven members endured the turmoil with dignity and good will, not letting on just how much stress they were actually under, staying close together and keeping their heads down. 

Everything went smoothly. Until one figure was suddenly shoved into their very midsts. Your slender form literally flew towards Jungkook, slipping through the security guard’s fingers who were busy keeping a bunch of screeching teenagers off of Jimin in the meantime. Having been pushed, you had obviously lost your balance, were stumbling, falling, flailing your arms in the desperate attempt to hold on to something, anything, in order to catch your fall. Finally, you managed to clutch at Jungkook’s shirt, more reflexively than anything else, your body clashing with his as your fingers dug deeply into the soft fabric of his sweater. Following instinct, he grabbed you by your elbows to help you back up on your own two feet. 

As soon as you were able to steady yourself again, however, you pulled back immediately, bowing your head numerous times, all the while ceaselessly mumbling apologies. Your face remained hidden, covered by a black cotton mask and a curtain of long, shiny hair. 

„No. No need to apologize“, Jungkook stopped you with a wave of his hand. 

„Are you all right? Did you get hurt in any way?“, he inquired. For some reason immensely worried for the wellbeing of this perfect stranger he’d just met for the first time, he bent down to get a glimpse of your face, following the inexplicable, burning urge to do so. And eventually succeeding, just in time before one of the guards gently yet firmly pulled you away from Jungkook to push you back into the crowd of fans. 

Jungkook’s eyes met yours only for a brief moment. Still, this split second was all it took to send a surge of thrilling heat through his entire body, the intensity of your gaze leaving every last fiber of his being vibrating and his veins tingling with what felt like a million of tiny electric shocks. He could have sworn his heart literally skipped a beat. Or two. At least. 

Because those eyes weren’t just any eyes. They were the eyes. The eyes which had been haunting his dreams.

Thunderstruck, the young singer remained frozen in place. Even as the other members bumped into him one after another, Jungkook’s petrification lasted, for seconds that felt like an eternity, his wide eyes, peering over the rim of his mask, staying locked with yours until the boisterous throng eventually devoured you, your sparkling orbs disappearing in the sea of beaming faces. 

„Jungkook, what’s wrong?“, Yoongi enquired, leaning in from the left to catch the younger one’s attention, concern clearly audible in his voice muffled by the fabric of his black mouth mask. 

„Nothing — I just — Hyung, I think I found her“, Jungkook gasped, still out of breath and unmoving.

„Found whom?“

„Her. My soulmate. I think I just saw her.“

„Your soulmate? You saw her?“, the rapper echoed, stupefied. „Are you serious?“

Jungkook barely managed to nod his head in response, repeatedly, mechanically, eyes as big as dinner plates still fixed on the spot where he had last seen you. Only reluctantly did he give in to their manager’s gentle nudging, resisting subconsciously as the taller man’s strong hands determinedly ushered Jungkook toward the terminal’s VIP area where the seven members were supposed to check in, the time of their flight’s departure rapidly approaching.  

„Are you sure?“, Yoongi continued his interrogation, struggling to keep up with Jungkook who now strode significantly faster, apparently unaware of his sudden acceleration, moving as if in trance, blank eyes cast down to the ground. „I mean, how do you even know?“

„I just do, all right!?“, Jungkook unintentionally snapped at the rapper, regretting his brusque tone instantly. „Sorry, but — It’s just — She was right there. I even touched her, okay!? And now she’s just — Gone. My chance at really meeting her or being with her — Gone. I let it slip through my fingers, just like that. She was right in front of me and all I did was stare. And now I’ll never see her again.“

In saying those last words, Jungkook was hit by a realization as sudden and sharp as if he was struck by lightning. Stunned, he stopped cold in his step, going on to whirl around, turning on his heel so abruptly the other members stared at him in bewilderment, uttering incoherent questions. The youngest one, however, rushed past them without looking left or right, eyes, blazing with sudden determination, turned towards a target invisible to them.  

Jungkook didn’t pay any mind to his bandmate’s nervous query or his managers’ indignation and effortlessly shook off the guards following him as he made his way back to the exact spot where he’d last seen you.

Every muscle strained, his posture tense, not daring to even as much as take a breath, Jungkook remained in said place, rigid, again and again letting his anxious gaze wander over dozens and dozens of faces belonging to young men and women who had instantly started to hover around him like a buzzing swarm of bees as soon as they’d recognized his features. 

But you were nowhere to be found. 

Until …

Finally, exhaling a sigh of relief, Jungkook’s posture relaxed the very moment his glance met yours, your eyes locking across the terminal. 

The whole of the universe seemed to slow down just for you, everything happening as if in slow motion, while the two of you hesitantly approached each other, step by step, lastly meeting halfway. 

„Hey“, was the only word Jungkook managed to breathe he as pulled down his mask to show a shy smile, laughter lines, like delicate petals, edging the corners of his warm brown eyes.

„Hi“, you replied, no less bashful, mirroring his gesture and in doing so, at long last, revealing your face, the sight of it leaving the young singer astounded. You were even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

„Do I know you?“, he now asked, slightly tilting his head to the right. By now his cheeks had begun to hurt. Nonetheless, Jungkook couldn’t seem to stop himself from smiling sheepishly. 

„I don’t think so“, you replied, your eyes shining just as brightly as he recalled them, their image edging itself even deeper into his memory now that he was faced with them in real life, making for the exact same sight as in his dream the night before, even down to the last, most tiny and supposedly insignificant detail. 

„Why?“, you wondered aloud, not without a hint of suspicion.

„Don’t worry“, Jungkook simply grinned, his eyes gleaming, never once leaving yours. „I’m sure all of this is not a coincidence.“

„Good“, you nodded approvingly. „Because I don’t believe in coincidence.“ Your expression now turning more serious, almost solemn, you confidently stretched out a trembling hand for Jungkook to shake. 

„My name is y/n“, you introduced yourself, a faint blush tinting your cheeks a soft shade of rosy pink. 

„Nice to finally meet you, y/n.“

THE END

I feel like I didn’t do our Jungkook and this lovely request justice and like this actually sucks 🙈😭 But I hope you liked it anyway and are having a wonderful day, wherever you are! 

Thanks for reading! Take care! 💜

Here you can find my Masterlist if you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction!

All GIFs used are NOT mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

[musicallisto]

Bonjour Belle✨, Can I know more about your ES MC with the MC ask game? ✨

Thanks for asking! I love talking about my OCs until I annoy the heck out of people ^^

#01. Name? Any nickname? Taylor Hera Montgomery-McKenzie, although she doesn’t know she has a middle name. It isn’t written on any of the paperwork involving her since her birth, adding to the mysteries surrounding her. Hera, in addition to being a mythological figure, of course, is also said to derive from the Greek ‘ηρως (heros) “hero, warrior”; ‘ωρα (hora) “period of time"; or ‘αιρεω (haireo) “to be chosen”. Those three ideas combined pretty much sum up her personality and fate.

#02. Birthday? As her file says, she was born on January 1st on La Huerta.

#03. What’s their family like? She has lost all rememberance of her family. It started bothering her more and more as time passed on the island. When she got on that plane, she clearly remembered her parents, her father’s kind smile and her mother’s warm eyes, her little brother’s cheerful enthusiasm, but the more time she spent on La Huerta, the less she thought about them and the more those colors and laughs started to blur as though the island was having some tricky effect on her mind - or perhaps it was revealing the true nature of what she deeply considered as her memories and her history. She has only confessed those doubts to Jake during their honeymoon, but brushed it off lightly, not wanting to kill the mood between her husband and her, and aware he could do nothing about it.

#04. Relationship status? She is handfasted to Jake McKenzie, which can be considered as a marriage despite not being one in the Western norm.

#05. Top 3 songs?

3. Enrique Iglesias - Bailando2. Amaral - Alerta1. Muse - Unintended

She’s definitely one for what people would consider “guilty pleasure music”. She loves all genres, but has always had a soft spot for reggaeton and hispanophonic music in general, whether it be from South America or Spain. Spanish is a language that she’s always felt drawn to, maybe because of its warm and sensual sound. Alerta is a song she finds utterly beautiful, despite not understanding any of the lyrics at first. If you hear her humming a tune, that’s probably the “ale ale, ale ale alerta”s from the chorus. And Unintended… Unintended reminds her of her adolescence, when she went through her rock phase like almost every 90′s kid - the thing she’s never quite gotten out of it, and fell utterly in love with this band and this particular song when she was fifteen. It reminds her of her relationship with Jake every time she listens to it and always manages to soothe her.

#06. Fave book? Taylor is one for mystery, thriller and science-fiction. She’s in love with Agatha Christie’s books, always been, so it’s clear that her favorite book of all time is Ten Little Niggers, a novel that is so different from everything she’s ever read before. The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux is a very close second though. She didn’t think she would like it that much when she first picked it up, usually not that interested in romance nor historical fiction, but it became her number two through the years thanks to the deep, complex personalities of the characters and the mystery surrounding the phantom.

#07. Fave movie? Although the Phantom of the Opera adaptation from 2001 holds a special place in her heart because of how much she adored the book, her favorite movie is Silence of the Lambs.

#08. Fave show? She’s never watched a lot of TV-shows, but if she had to choose one, it would be Black Mirror, which she never finished because of her life-changing trip.

#09. Hobbies? Swimming. She’s a very strong swimmer, it’s her favorite sport and what she’s always done when she needs to get her mind off of things a little bit. She’s never participated in any competitions though. She also used to practise horse-riding when she was little, but stopped when she entered middle school.

#10. What Perfect Match type would they be? She is the Leader. She has that little something that makes all people instantly confide in her and trust her to make the best decisions and guide them through the storms. She’s most comfortable when in command.

#11. Biggest guilty pleasure? As I mentioned before, it’s all about Latino music! She doesn’t personally consider it a guilty pleasure, just songs that are often played at parties and nowhere else, but she loves to have a little Gente de Zona dance party on her own. She’s a terrible dancer, but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying it, right?

#12. Deepest darkest secret? Apart from being the Endless, she doesn’t remember anything very huge, and her life as she remembers it has always been pretty uneventful and calm. Nobody knows that she has stolen money from some of her classmates in high school when she was in very tough times. It’s not something she’s proud of, and wouldn’t really mind if that shameful memory turned out to be a scam.

#13. Fave childhood memory? She remembers when she went to Disney World in Florida with her parents and her brother - she must have been six or seven, and insisted on going on every. single. ride. much to her parents’ dismay, they were dragged by her brother and her all around the park, but that’s still Taylor’s most prized memory.

#14. Sweet or savoury? Savory, and if possible, spicy.

#15. Hogwarts house? She is a Gryffindor through and through!

#16. Fave food? Argentinan parrilla! More commonly known as grill, but Argentinan parrilla sounds better to her, and Argentinan steak is definitely the best of all.

#17. Fave drink? She doesn’t like sodas, so she would stick to water or lemonade most of the time, but she is also a great mojito fan.

#18. Most treasured possession? A quartz necklace her mother offered her when she turned eighteen, something that has passed through her family for generations and generations. She doesn’t know if everything in her past is false, but at least the necklace isn’t, securely resting on her neck.

#19. Their goals for the future? She wants to escape this hell of an island, spend a few years away from everything by the shore with her husband while helping him clear his name and attending college to finally graduate - then find a stable career and maybe have kids.

#20. Dog-lover or cat-lover? She’s a dog lover! Dogs are better than anything or anyone in her opinion. She doesn’t necessarily hate cats, but she does dislike their tendency to be very independent and snobbish at times.

#21. Early bird or night owl? She’s a night owl. She has no trouble being awake past midnight, but is unable to wake up before seven in the morning. Ever. E v e r.

#22. How do they relax after a bad day? She takes a bath, a long, hot shower or goes swimming in the pool. As I said before, she’s literally a fish in the water and that’s her element.

#23. What do they see as their biggest flaw? She’s aware of her tendency to be quite bossy. Accostumed to being the leader of her group of friends or in school projects, the respected older sister, and with lenient parents, it’s understandable that she would develop the tendency to think that she’s in the position to give orders to anyone. When meeting other strong, commanding personalities like Sean, it was obvious it would clash at first.

#24. And their greatest strength? On the other hand, she is cold-blooded and knows how not to lose her temper when facing a dangerous situation. She knows a lot about survival and feels at ease with responsibilities.

#25. Tragedy strikes! How do they handle a crisis? At first, she shuts everyone off, isolates herself and tries to think about it on her own, but not for long or she’s bound to go crazy or do something stupid. Most of the time, she tries not to show the effect it has on her, but it’s sometimes difficult to hide her feelings from people she’s with all the time.

#26. Coffee shop order? I’m not sure she really likes coffee, or at least, if she can avoid drinking it, she will. She often orders a hot chocolate instead.

#27. It’s Friday night and they’re home alone, what do they get up to? Probably go clubbing with friends or throw a party at her place! She loves music, she loves dancing, she loves being surrounded by people, so it’s the best alternative to concile those three things.

#28. Fave pizza toppings? There’s this pizza that has BBQ sauce, lardons and mushrooms… it’s her ultimate favorite.

#29. What would their superhero name be? Harley Quinn. She’s always liked the tortuous comics character and her complex relationship with the Joker, and their partner in crime-like dynamic reminds her of her complicity with her friends and especially with Jake - besides, Joker was the first nickname she gave him.

#30. What would their ideal day look like? Something adventurous, ourdoors, something out of the ordinary, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Something like paragliding over the bay, or one of her biggest dreams: swimming in the open sea with marine animals.

#31. What did they want to be when they grew up? Has it changed? Believe it or not, when she was little, she wanted to be a firefighter. She’s always been attracted to the idea of helping other people and being in the heat of the action. After she grew up, she abandoned that idea and thought about becoming a doctor. She doesn’t mind what field, she’s sure about the fact that she wants to save people, whatever the cost is.

#32. Do they believe in ghosts? I mean, after being repeatedly saved by one, it’s a little hard not to. But even after La Huerta, a part of her always believed in them.

#33. Do they like amusement parks? oh YES she adores them and would spend DAYS in there if she could.

#34. How many pillows do they sleep with? Three. She likes to be comfortable when she’s sleeping and bury her face in the soft fabric.

#35. What song always gets them dancing? Bailando by Enrique Iglesias. No matter the context, she will always try a few flamenco moves (and fail).

#36. Fave boardgame? Mafia! She’s the one who proposes a game of Mafia at literally every party ever and therefore kills the mood with her childishness lol

#37. If they play Monopoly, what token are they? The ship. To blow up her enemies better, she says.

#38. What does their laugh sound like? High-pitched, a little airy and always with her infamous flirtatious notes.

#39. Describe their aesthetic. Dancing until four in the morning, summer nights and their infinity of stars, tipsily walking down the streets in the unholy hours of the morning, neon lights, cocktail umbrellas by the beach.

#40. Do they exercise? Yeah, she loves running and as I mentioned before, swimming, so she does both on a daily basis. She’s quite athletic, but absolutely not gracious or flexible. So forget everything about dancing or gymnastics.

#41. Fears? Waking up before seven a.m., essentially. Also, she’s terrified ogf being alone, she cannot stand solitude. And she’s never told anyone about her phobia of bugs. Especially wasps. Those creatures deserve hell. She will lose her mind if a wasp is around and try to find the closest source of water to avoid it. They’re the worst for her, and she’s already had panic attacks when being bothered by a wasp when she was little.

#42. Proudest achievement? Surviving La Huerta is already a good one, but apart from that, running 500m in 1′31 minutes when she was eighteen. She hasn’t been able to beat that record ever since, and it’s safe to stay she will never do it again… unless she’s chased down by a horde of zombies.

#43. Fave type of weather? Sunny! She hates the cold and can’t stand foggy weather.

#44. Fave animal? I can see her really liking small monkeys, malicious and clever, but her favorite animal of all of them is the tiger. There’s something so majestic and venerable about them.

#45. Do they like fairytales? She loved them as a kid, but they remained in her childhood. Let’s say she doesn’t care about them that much.

#46. Describe them in 3 words. Fierce piña colada. That’s it. That’s Taylor.

#47. Biggest pet peeve? Slow walkers. she’s always moving, jumping, hyperactive, she has to have space to move.

#48. Hobbies? Swimming, dancing, running - she used to take some guitar lessons when she was younger, but basically only remembers how to play the intro riff of Come As You Are and it’s a very, very painful process.

#49. Extrovert or introvert? Extrovert! That doesn’t mean she can’t be shy in some situations, but she feels more at ease when she’s around a large group of people.

#50. Random headcanon She’s never been to a music festival, nor a concert for that matter. She promised herself she would go one summer to Reading Festival or Coachella with Diego, but never got the chance to do it. It’s one of her biggest regrets when she’s stuck on La Huerta.

MC questionnaire!

[dollar-store-kazoo]

Assorted Apollos from sketches I did today because he gives me intense brainrot and I also just want to post something