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wonwoosthetic · 10 months ago

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series masterlist

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Go Together NANA TOUR EP2 🌷Minnie

parts written in italics were out of camera shot ˙ᵕ˙

EP2-1. Good Morning

Gathered around the table, the idols passed each T-shirt to the designated member until everyone was in possession of their personalised top for the show. Minnie had gotten her own as well, holding it up to look at her name in big black letters printed across it. Before her eyes even found the little icon that was different for each singer, Joshua had looked over her right shoulder and caught a glimpse first.

"Aww!" He pointed at the shirt, making her look down, finding a small drawn mouse holding onto a much bigger flower, what appeared to be a tulip.

"Oh my God, that's so cute," she smiled at the clothing item, before turning her head to the producers, "Thank you!" Beaming at them with a bright smile.

After they all got to admire their T-shirts and got a hold of a charger for their own, the group split up again to their designated rooms. Next on the list was getting bedtime ready. After not having lived together as a group all together, the idols had almost forgotten about the struggle of sharing a bathroom. The apartment they were staying at had two, thankfully, but still... 13 people and only two showers... it was about to get stressful.

Thankfully, sleeping in a room right next to one of the bathrooms, Minnie got the privilege of being one of the first members to wash up. She had washed her hair and went through some steps of her skincare routine with the products in the pouch she had taken with her from the plane. While the rest of the members were looking for time slots to jump into the shower, she was on her bed, now in the shorts and shirt provided by the producers as she put on a clean pair of socks, not wanting to walk around in shoes anymore or barefooted.

She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, trying to dry it as much as possible as she had yet to find a hairdryer. After a few minutes of looking around the flat, she had given up the search and retreated back to her room, using the towel to squeeze out the last drops of moisture that were left in her long hair. That's when Mingyu suddenly walked in, making her turn around to look at him.

"What are you doing?" Minnie asked him.

The rapper passed her, and crouched down right behind her, "Your room is the only one with a socket close to a mirror." As he stood back up, the girl's eyes dropped to the device his hands were clinging on. So that's where the hairdryer had suddenly gone. Mingyu turned it on and started drying his hair with the hot air, brushing through it with his fingers.

Minnie got up from the bed and walked over to him. With her hand on his upper arm, she looked up to meet his gaze through the mirror.

"Can you leave the hairdryer here after you're done?"

He must've not understood her probably, the blasting air being way too loud, as he turned to the side, subconsciously crouching down slightly as he had done so many other times before.

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrows in wonder.

"Leave the hairdryer here when you're done. I need it too," Minnie raised her voice to speak clearer before moving away to walk out of the room.

A sudden soft grab of her arm made her stumble back slightly. Looking back, she glimpsed up at her fellow '97 Liner, who motioned for her to turn around. With a gentle push on her back, she turned, now facing the door. Only a second later, Mingyu had moved the hairdryer from blow-drying his own hair to hers, using his fingers as a brush to detangle some of her strands. Carefully, he moved some of her hair to the side, splitting it up into sections, to make sure he was drying it correctly. Minnie moved her head along, leaning it to one side, so the hair would stay in the position Mingyu had put it in.

Once she noticed, it was getting harder for his fingers to glide through her strands, she turned around to stop his movements. Pointing over to her bedside table, he found the brush the girl was trying to tell him about. He handed her the blowdryer for a second as he walked over to get the brush, only to hold it in his own hands a few seconds later, getting back to help her with her hair.

The two members moved in complete silence the entire time. No talking, only grinning at each other through the mirror at most or Mingyu mouthing a 'sorry' whenever he'd get stuck on a knot in her dark mane. The only time either one of them had opened their mouth to speak was when Wonwoo appeared in the doorway, smiling over at the duo before knocking on the bathroom door. He asked who was inside, but had only gotten an incoherent answer back, so Minnie had to help him.

"Jeonghannie-hyung!" She called out to the '96 Liner, who turned to glance at her with awaiting eyes, asking her what she had said.

"Jeonghannie-hyung is in the bathroom," she repeated louder, getting a nod back in return.

After most of the members had each finished their shower, they moved on to brushing their teeth, which turned out to be another hurdle as there was only one tube of toothpaste. They had somehow managed to get a little bit for each one of them, brushing their teeth while walking around the apartment or sitting in their rooms.

Finished with everything, and even almost completely dry hair, Minnie had found herself in the kitchen, sitting between Wonwoo and Jeonghan, while Hoshi had taken a seat on the opposite side of the table, his toothbrush still dangling in his mouth. In the middle of their conversation, Dokyeom walked out of his room, joining the small group of four. He stopped by the table to look at his fellow members.

"It would be too greedy to ask for hair essence, right?" He asked everyone.

Right away, a nod and a hum came from the rapper, followed by an agreeing, "Yeah," from the Vice-Leader.

Minnie chuckled softly, "What? No, it's not. I asked for some too," turning towards the '96 Liner to her right before glancing over at Dokyeom again. "I put it in the little pouch on my bed. You can use it."

"Really?"

The girl nodded, "Of course."

[sharing is caring with SEVENTEEN]

As soon as the main vocalist left the room, Hoshi spoke up, "Wishing for too much is not what a vacation is." His voice still muffled by the toothpaste foaming at his lips. "You need to give up on things you can."

The girl leaned back with a deep breath in, stretching her shoulders. "Some of us just want to still look presentable. Even if we're on vacation."

"You shouldn't worry about that," the performance leader commented back.

"If I didn't use any hair essence, I'd look like a lion," the girl stated, referring to the long mane on her head, that would quickly turn into puffy dried weed if not being taken care of properly.

With scrunched eyebrows, Hoshi took the toothbrush out of his mouth, looking at her in confusion. "What's wrong with looking like a lion?" To which Minnie could only shake her head with a chuckle, the other two members following her, laughing along at the sound of pure offence coming from the '96 Liner.

Most of the group was already snuggled up in their individual beds. Only a few were still walking around, cleaning up after themselves or laying out their clothes and wet towels to dry somewhere in the apartment. Wonwoo and Dino had found comfort in sitting in the kitchen, with the only source of light coming from the hallway and music from the maknae's phone.

Before she would let herself get a good night's sleep, Minnie decided to keep up her habit of having either a glass or bottle of water next to her bed. She made her way into the kitchen, not expecting anyone in there anymore as it was dark, explaining her wide eyes when she entered and found the duo by the table.

"Oh," her hand came up to her chest in surprise, "What are you guys still doing?"

"Drinking," Dino answered her, nudging his head to the beer bottles on the table.

Followed by Wonwoo, who just got done with his next bite of the Ramen he had made, "And eating."

With a nod, the girl chuckled, walking over to the sink without another word. The room had fallen quiet as the rapper was focused on his food and the maknae had turned his full attention to the '97 Liner moving around the kitchen, looking for a glass or anything remotely close to a cup.

The sound of Wonwoo slurping his noodles got a chuckle from the youngest in the room.

"Noona, did you know Wonwoo-hyung doesn't chew his Ramen?" He asked her.

From her place by the counter, up on her tippy toes, she turned around, "Yeah," she smiled, "He inhales them." Getting a laugh from the maknae in return.

"Exactly! That's what I said."

"Why are you two making fun of me?" The oldest of the three joined the conversation, glancing over at the girl to see her struggle of not being able to see to the far back of the overhead cabinet. He got up from his chair in an instant.

"We're not making fun of you," Dino argued.

Wonwoo got next to Minnie, easily reaching to the back of the cabinet, where a few glasses were, reaching for one before handing it over to her.

"But I told you it's bad for you," she smiled up at him, taking the cup from his grip. "Thank you."

Without another word, the '96 Liner sat back down and his focus was back on the food in front of him.

Minnie turned on the Fausset before she let her backside rest against the counter, taking a sip of the glass she had just filled up.

Dino's eyes were locked on her form. "You're drinking straight from the sink?"

The female member nodded, "You can do that here. The water is clean." Making the maknae nod, clearly impressed by the info he had gotten.

"Do you want to drink with us?" He asked her, sitting up a slight bit straighter, ready to get another beer out of the fridge. But Minnie shook her head,

"No, thank you. I'm tired, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Ah, ok." Defeated, with his arms crossed, the youngest sank back into his seat.

Before she made her way back to the room she shared with Jun and Dino, Minnie took a few steps forward until she was right behind Wonwoo's seat, placing a hand on his shoulder, to make him look up.

"Good night," she whispered. As soon as their gazes met, she leaned down. The rapper straightened his back to meet her halfway where their lips touched for a soft kiss. She could feel the palm of his hand resting on her left hip.

Dino's hand immediately came up to cover his eyes, even turning his head slightly away. Once they separated and their eyes fell on the maknae, the two chuckled in unison. The teasing would never find an end. Even in a group like Seventeen, where open displays of affection in any way, romantic or platonic, weren't a rarity.

Minnie shook her head, smiling at the maknae, while Wonwoo went back to eating the last bites of his cup noodles. Checking for clear waters, the '99 Liner dropped his hand, smiling at the couple before the girl turned her back to them to leave the room.

Early in the morning, every member was still deep in their slumber. Well, everyone, but two - Minghao and Vernon. The roommates had gotten up earlier than the rest, with a specific plan in mind. A plan that required money from the 'manager'.

Thanks to the girl's light sleep, she was woken up by the sound of footsteps around the room. Opening one eye at first, the sun that had just started rising, hit her view, making her squint, wanting to close them immediately again. But another footstep made her whip her head around. Her eyes landed on the intruder.

"Hao?" Her voice was still raspy and laced with sleep. To get a clearer view, she rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust them to the brightness of the room.

Minghao raised a finger to his lips, begging her to stay quiet to let the other members rest.

"What are you doing?" Minnie whispered.

"Vernonnie and I want to go out for breakfast, but we need money," he explained, tapping the shoulder of the maknae as he whispered out his name to wake him up. Right after he had given his 'okay' to take the money they'd need, Dino closed his eyes again to fall back asleep.

Minnie stayed sat up on the mattress, her hand running through her hair as her eyes were focused on the sunrise outside of their window.

"Minnie-ya," Minghao's voice drifted her attention back to him, "Do you want to come too?"

For a quick second, the girl stayed quiet, trying to gather her thoughts before nodding her head.

"Sure."

Hao copied her action, his light footsteps carrying him to the other side of the room where he had seen her personalised shirt hung up on the handle of the closet. Minnie had decided to only sleep in the Calvin Klein sports bra the producers had provided her with. That way, she could feel comfortable wearing the T-shirt around the city that day.

He pulled it off the hanger, "Here," he threw it over to her on the bed.

"Thank you," she whispered back to him before he disappeared through the doorway again.

Out in the warm morning air, the three members started looking for a breakfast place in the area. While the temperature was slowly rising, getting up to the normal summer heat Rome was faced with each year, there was still a fresh breeze blowing past the old buildings. Minnie pulled the black zip-up hoodie she had thrown over her shirt closer around her body. The sleeves were long enough to cover her entire hands as well.

Minghao found a restaurant around seven minutes away from their current location that was already open, even at the early morning hour they had decided to get up. The close distance let the trio walk through the ancient streets of the city, taking in the old-stone structures that were so iconic for Italian architecture.

Each building they passed was more fascinating than the one before. From normal apartments to churches, or even just stores and supermarkets. The vintage design of downtown Rome was too different from their home in Seoul to not let them be amazed by everything they saw.

Arrived at their destination, the group found the restaurant to be relatively empty, making finding a table much easier. Minnie and Vernon took the booth seating up against the wall, while Minghao sat across the table from them. The waiter arrived only shortly after they had settled down and greeted them with a kind smile. Ordering was easy, thanks to the older man understanding English, and done by the youngest of the three. They opted for three orange juices, pasta, a chicken meal, and a serving of ravioli.

It was then, that the girl noticed the clothing choices of each of them, giggling to herself before commenting. "Why am I the only one wearing the shirt we got?"

All eyes fell on her, eyeing her outfit.

"I thought we had to wear them all the time," she whined out loud, getting a round of quiet laughter from everyone around her. Minnie glanced over at the cameraman, who just shook his head. "You're telling me I could've looked cuter than this."

Vernon, next to her, hit her shoulder with a chuckle as Minghao smiled at her. "It's okay, you wear it very well," he reassured her.

Their food arrived a short while later. The waiter gave each plate to each member, letting them finally admire what they had ordered.

"It really looks so good," Hao commented, taking a quick picture of his plate before putting the phone to the side again.

Minnie, who was focused on her own device, typing away on the screen, looked up, "Yeah," she nodded, "You can tell how fresh everything here is."

The three started to eat, splitting their meals up between them, giving each other a small portion of everything on the table.

Lost in the smooth taste of their food, taking in each small flavour their tongues picked up, the group enjoyed their moment of silence together. For a few seconds, they were too focused on the lunch meals turned breakfast, to even engage in a simple conversation.

Vernon was the first to break the quietness when a thought hit him like a brick, whipping his head to the girl, who was pouring herself a glass of water.

"You can speak Italian, right?" He wondered, gaining the attention of the entire table.

She nodded. "A little bit. The basics I learned in school. Why?"

The younger member chuckled with a scoff, "Why did you let me order then?"

The sip she was taking from the glass was interrupted when she came to stop, her mouth closed as she giggled, trying to swallow before she could speak up again.

"You didn't ask me to," Minnie smiled. "Also, I think I would be too shy to speak with an actual person from Italy. My Italian isn't that good."

Vernon was just about to say something when Minghao shook his head. "But you should. You should get more confident in speaking foreign languages."

"Yeah, you're good at learning them anyway," the youngest added, referring to the only academic 'gift' the female member had. But she just shrugged.

A bigger group of members that had split up from the rest, found themselves in a shop recommended by Na PD himself. They had ordered sandwiches for each one of them, along with a few bottles of Coke Zero and some wine - not caring about how early in the morning it was.

Amid their meal, Mingyu suddenly found the urge to contact the leader, who was in Korea, where it was now sometime in the afternoon. He picked up the Facetime call after only a few rings but kept his face hidden as he was sitting in a salon chair, getting his hair re-done.

"Show us. Let me see your face," the '97 Liner repeatedly kept on nagging the oldest member, showing the screen of his phone to the camera to reveal his face once he'd shown it.

"But I'm getting my hair dyed!" Seungcheol argued back.

"So let us see it!" The younger rapper argued again.

"You guys keep on contacting me!" The leader whined out. "Minnie has been texting me already. I sent her a picture."

"But she's not here with us. She went out with Vernon and Myungho, so show us your face now," Mingyu told him, continuously demanding a face reveal. Cheol finally gave in, turning his camera around to film himself in the chair, while two hairstylists were working on bleaching his hair.

EP2-2. Roman Holiday

"Everyone's here!" Na PD called out after counting the members on the bus. Everyone had found a seat for themselves and was enjoying the passing view outside of the windows. "We're going to see the Arch of Constantine and take pictures today," he explained further.

Due to the large number of members, the producer split them up into smaller groups, depending on where they were currently sitting. Jeonghan's group on the left side of the bus consisted of four, as well as Seungkwan's group on the right.

"And Group 3, the line in the back," Yeongseok pointed at them with the little flag he was carrying around with him. "The members who don't listen."

"Let's gooo!" Mingyu and Dokyeom shouted out together.

"Huh?!" Minnie wondered loudly, glancing over to the loud duo on the other side of the row, who seemed to be proud of the reputation they had gained.

Dino, who was sitting in the middle caught the shocked face of the female member, "Ah, noona!" Making him laugh out loud. "She doesn't like that title, hyung!"

"Who? Minnie-ya?" The producer looked at the very back of the bus, seeing the head of the girl peeking over the row in front of her.

"We listen well!" She argued back, getting a chuckle out of the older man and the rest of the group on the bus. Everyone knew, there was only a small amount of truth to her claim.

He shook his head, "I don't think so," getting another round of laughter from the members, while the girl had to fight a smile as she sunk back into the chair.

Each group had made their way off the bus, now walking around the ancient ruins toward the arch they were supposed to take pictures at. The hot weather had let the members only walk around in their individual shirts, with some of them also wearing the different kinds of hats they had bought in souvenir shops around the city.

Minnie had put up her hair in a ponytail, and a pair of sunglasses high on her nosebridge as she looked around the open area. She decided to just enjoy the view while letting her fellow '97 Liner run around and take pictures. Na PD was close by her. A chuckle from the older man made her turn around, only to find out why. Mingyu was a few steps behind her, crouching down on the floor while his phone was directed at her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him, but he just shook her off with his hand,

"Keep on walking."

With a confused look on her face, she did as asked, continuing her casual walk, while the older man next to her kept on laughing at what was happening.

"Wait!" The rapper suddenly called out, running up to the girl. Dokyeom was still behind all of them, taking pictures of the scenery with his own phone. "Turn around and look over there," he tried to usher her to stand in the right position, moving her around with two strong hands on her shoulder. "Oh-", he turned her around for a split second, fixing a strand of hair that stuck out from the top of her head.

"You're really passionate about this, Mingyu-ya," Yeongseok commented with a chuckle, standing back with his arms crossed, watching the duo closely.

He nodded with a proud smile, "We need to get good pictures." Taking a few steps back, he crouched down slightly once again, tapping on his screen a few times while Minnie continued to pose on the opposite side of the makeshift dirt road they were walking on.

"Look here!" He called out. "And over your left shoulder!" His directions made the girl roll her eyes, a chuckle tumbling from her lips quickly after.

"Mingyu, you're being too much," she smiled at the man, who still had his knees bent, not stopping taking one pic after the other, even as she continued to get him to stop.

"You'll thank me for the pictures later," the rapper nudged his head provocatively at the '97 Liner, who took a deep breath in before fixing her hair and going after his demands of posing in front of the camera.

"Hyung!" She called out to the producer, motioning with her hand for him to come closer. "Take a picture with me! Please!"

With a shake of his head, he quickly gave in to the girl's request, jogging up to stand beside her before he slung his arm over her shoulder, posing together with her for another few pictures taken by Mingyu.

They resumed their journey through the open field with Na PD, Minnie, Mingyu, and Dokyeom walking all together.

"Ah...," the rapper sighed out in relief, "Isn't this so nice, guys?" Throwing his arms over the other two '97 Liners.

"It's really nice," DK agreed. "It kinda really feels just like youth. Like it's the last in my late 20s before ending our lives."

"What?" Minnie and Yeongseok glanced over at the singer in surprise, "What did you just say?" The girl wondered.

"Why are you ending your life? Hey!" The producer questioned the sudden statement.

Dokyeom quickly excused himself, trying to get the meaning he had originally wanted to express right, getting a round of laughter from the people next to him. Minnie shook her head with a smile, mumbling something under her breath.

"You mean, ending your late 20s well," Na PD explained for him, to which the members agreed.

The girl had kept her head down, following a stone she was kicking along with her feet as they were walking. "Yeongseok-hyung is so wise."

Her comment got a whole-hearted laugh from the older man, his hand petting her back, making her look up at him with a big grin. "Ah... that's very sweet of you Minnie-ya." Her right arm slung across his back to lean into him, pulling him in for a side hug and joining the chain the four had created.

The Arch of Constantine was even more magnificent than any of the members could've imagined. They had split up, each to be on their own or in smaller groups, taking pictures or just taking in the structure right in front of them and next to the Colosseum. Their eyes raked over each detail engraved into the old stone, pondering how it was even possible to create masterpieces like this such a long time ago.

The producers asked them to gather for the group photo, having to recall their position in the line they had decided on the day before.

A picture, a video clip, and a few more personal pictures later, they went on their way further around the city, when some of the members found a cute little ice cream stand. The members who were craving the famous Gelato were quick to get in line, their orders already in their heads. Manager Dino was right next to them, using the pocket money they were gifted to pay for each treat.

With the refreshments in their hands, they continued their way through the streets of Italy. Passing blooming gardens, trees on the side of the roads, smiling people, and more ancient buildings that made Rome oh so special.

"I think I can really go on a world trip with just a camera," Wonwoo suddenly spoke up. Minnie, only a few steps in front of him, chuckled on slowed down her walk as the rapper reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to walk right beside her.

"How many pictures have you taken yet?" She asked, to which he looked down at the apparatus.

"I don't know, to be honest. A few."

In the next moment, the female member was standing in front of a colourful they had found along their way. Decorated with graffiti and drawings by multiple different artists, it seemed. Wonwoo, in his usual fashion, was holding up the camera, looking through the lens with one eye, taking a few steps back and forward again, trying to find an angle he'd like. Minnie smiled brightly, her sunglasses still high on the bridge of her nose. While she turned away to continue their walk, the '96 Liner kept his hold on the device tightly, taking a few more shots of the girl before putting the camera down to glance around the area, trying to look for the next beautiful thing to photograph.

The group had finally made their way back into the much cooler bus. Some of the members sighed out loud in exhaustion, complaining about the heat they were enduring. Everyone took the same seats as before, letting their backs rest against the cushions.

Next on the list: Lunch.

Na PD revealed the restaurant they were heading to to be a celebrity 'hot spot'. Multiple stars, including singers, actors, football players, etc. had dined there, making it become a very popular destination for others. As an example, he mentioned Leonardo Di Caprio. The members hollered out in excitement.

"Vernonnie,"

"Vernonnie!" Dokyeom and Mingyu commented, getting a round of chuckles from the other members. Minnie, grinned at the younger member next to her, watching his lips curl up as he shook his head slightly. With a giggle, she patted his shoulder.

"Let's go eat!" Jun called out as soon as the bus came to a halt. They had arrived at their lunch spot for the day. Waiters ushered them in and brought them to the table reserved for the big group in a slightly more private area of the restaurant. The female member to her seat opposite Na PD, next to Wonwoo, at the other end of the table.

The members were more than excited. Hours of walking around the hot city had brought hunger to their stomachs, ready to get a taste of even more traditional Italian cuisine - some had already gotten a taste early in the morning.

One of the waiters came back into the room, greeting them in true Italian fashion. He rounded the table, handing out a few of the menu cards so that at least two or three members could look at one together. That's when they found a catch. Everything was written in Italian.

"Oh... I really have no idea. There's no English at all," Vernon noticed. Minnie reached for the card Wonwoo had just put down, her eyes scanning the words.

"Ah...," she repeated with a nervous chuckle, "there really isn't."

Different possible solutions for their situation were thrown around. While some members were trying to make some sense of the words they were seeing, Mingyu suggested just ordering the most expensive items of each category. What part of them forgot though was that they had two people who could converse in a basic conversation with their language knowledge.

"The one that says 'fritti' is kind of fried," Joshua explained to his half of the table. "I think it means fried." He continued to go over the menu, explaining what he thought each meal would translate to.

"Funghi Porcini," Minnie read out, just to herself and whoever would catch her voice, "is with mushrooms."

"What is Pomodoro?" Woozi wondered out loud. As Shua was still busy talking to the maknae on his right, the female member decided to answer.

"Tomato. So it's like... probably like pasta with just tomato sauce and basil."

With scrunched eyebrows, the '96 Liner glanced at her. "You understand this too?"

She shrugged, "A little bit."

Back in her own world with Wonwoo right next to her, they went through the meals together, him asking her what some of the things meant and her translating everything for him. Lost in their little convo, she didn't react when her name was first called out, only when the man next to her nudged her before pointing at Joshua, who was trying to get her attention.

"Hm?"

"Can you order for that side of the table, and I'll order for this?" He pointed to each side, as he asked her. "Is that okay?" Joshua apparently didn't forget about the mere two years she had to study the language in school.

Slightly lost in his question, the girl nodded before she could even say what she actually wanted. Because doing what he had asked of her was definitely not a thing she was ready to do. She didn't have the confidence some other members, *cough* Mingyu *cough*, were blessed with. She had never been one to just talk to random people, ESPECIALLY when those people spoke a language she wasn't fluent in. Just thinking back to her first days at Pledis. Seungcheol was the one who had to come up to her. Back then, he was surprised to find out that her Korean skills weren't half as good as he had thought. It hit her like a kick back into the past - now having to converse in a language she had spoken the last time when she was in school.

Vernon chuckled when a heavy sigh fell from her lips as she sunk into her chair. "Now you have to talk in Italian." Referring back to the morning they had spent together back at that breakfast place.

"This is gonna be so embarrassing." With a pained facial expression, she leaned over to put her forehead against Wonwoo's shoulder, taking a deep breath.

"They're not going to make fun of you," he tried to assure her, his hand patting her thigh in comfort. "They're nice. Just try it."

Minnie straightened her back again, almost quivering as her eyes fixed on the waiter walking into the room again. "They might not make fun of me openly, but they'll talk about it later. I have the worst accent when I talk Italian!" She shout-whispered, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.

Wonwoo tried his best not to chuckle at her reaction. He knew the situation was only half as bad as she interpreted it - always an overthinker. With a soft smile, he placed his hand on top of hers, trying to get her to calm down with his thumb running across her knuckles.

"We all have accents when we speak English. But has that ever stopped like Seungkwan or Mingyu from speaking it?"

"Dino sometimes doesn't want to."

"But you're not Dino," he argued softly, just wanting to lean forward and gently kiss her pouty lips, but there couldn't have been a worse time or place for it than then.

"And I'm no Seungkwan or Mingyu either," she threw back, making him take a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Minnie shook her head. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop," he squeezed her hand. "Just don't overthink it, it's all good."

Their moment had to be cut short as the waiter had made his way over to their side of the table.

With a big smile, he greeted the group in his native tongue, forcing everyone to do the same. Minnie was handed the menu by Wonwoo, now at least able to point at the meals she possibly wouldn't pronounce correctly. She started off easily, talking slowly and trying to speak as clearly as she possibly could. Showing him the words on the card most definitely helped her. Every now and then, the man would ask questions as well, taking her back at first, but as he was just trying to get the order perfectly right, she warmed up to the situation.

"Jeonghannie-hyung, what do you want?" She leaned forward to get a look at the oldest member. He had not given her his order yet.

He shook his head, "I'll eat anything you order for me, Minnie-ya." A quick glance at Woozi, he told her the same thing.

"And you, hyung?" She directed her attention to the man sitting across from her.

"Oh- this one please," he pointed at the menu he was holding onto, showing her the pasta meal he would want.

As scared as the female member was of messing up, she had only stuttered twice, and that was purely because she was unsure of the correct grammatical ending she would have to use in the sentence. The waiter nodded along with her order, writing down everything she mentioned on the menu before thanking her with another kind smile and disappearing again.

With a deep breath, the girl hunched over the table dramatically. Wonwoo chuckled at her antics, his hand coming up to rub her back.

"Damn," Vernon grinned, nodding his head at her.

The oldest man at the table couldn't take his eyes off the female member. His eyes were wide and a proud smile lit up his face.

"Woah... Minnie-ya," his voice made her look up. "How- I didn't know you spoke Italian so well."

She shook her head, "No... it's no- I only learned it in school for a bit."

"But that was really good!" He complimented her.

Minnie chuckled shyly, her shoulders lifting as she subconsciously leaned to the side.

Wonwoo patted her back one more time. "Good job," sending her a warm smile that she couldn't help but reciprocate.

Even though they had already gone through multiple jugs of the homemade house wine the restaurant had to offer, Na PD had ordered another few different types. The members only noticed it when there were new bottles put down on the table, along with more glasses as well. A green bottle and the same in red again were right in front of Minnie and Wonwoo, letting them try to read what the calligraphy around the logo said. As their side of the table was the first to receive the ordered wine, the other members got curious.

Mingyu got up from his seat, making his way over to stop in between his dormmates.

"Try and see which one is the expensive one," Yeongseok challenged them.

"Oh," Minnie chuckled, her hand placed on the arm of the '97 Liner as he leaned forward to get a better look at the bottles. "Mingyu will be good at this, I think."

Minghao joined them only shortly after.

"These two are different?" He wondered while Mingyu was already taking the first sip of what he had poured.

Minnie glanced up to her left, expecting her dormmate, only to be met with Dokyeom, who had also come along to the taste test. A pat on her shoulder made her look to the right. Mingyu handed her his glass of wine without a word, which she graciously took, taking a sip of the little bit he had left for her.

"Mm," she hummed, "I like this one."

He nodded, leaning against the wall as he looked down at her. "Me too, but I think it's the slightly cheaper one."

"I want to try the other as well. You too?" The girl wondered, getting a nod in return. She reached out to get a new glass and went to pour in some of it from the other bottle when it was suddenly snatched from her grip. Wonwoo got a hold of it, placing the glass closer to him before he let the liquid fill it up with a good amount.

"Don't pour yourself alcohol," he remarked before putting the glass back down in front of her.

She nodded. "Thank you." Just as she was about to hand it over to Mingyu, he brushed her off with a motion of his hand.

"You take a sip first." Not fighting him back on it, she brought the rim up to her lips, tilting it back until the slight bitter taste hit her tongue. She took a small sip, her face scrunching up a bit as she put the glass down again.

The '97 Liner reached out to get it. "Not good?" He chuckled at her expression.

"That tastes like the red wine I usually don't like," she stated, taking a big gulp from the glass of Coke Zero by her plate.

"Oh," Mingyu commented, "I like it." After having tasted it and going back to take another sip.

"Then you can keep it," she told him, face still scrunched up by the bitterness, getting another chuckle out of him and a brush over the top of her hair.

Meal after meal was brought to their table, even more plates now filling even the smallest empty gaps. The members shared each pasta between them, handing over spoons full of each food they had ordered.

They all were very well surprised by the tastes their tongue got to explore, but one member seemed particularly happy. Vernon.

"It's so good."

"Wow, it's really nice."

"This is really good."

He kept on repeating, making the female member chuckle as she watched him closely.

She wasn't the only one to notice though. "He really likes spaghetti," Na PD pointed out, making the '98 Liner nod.

"I really like it."

"I haven't seen Vernon eat that well in a long time," Minnie commented, the corners of her lips still curled up.

EP2-3. On the Bus

The members had found themselves back on the bus after their well-enjoyed lunch break. Now, all full and happy, they were making their way up to the North, to their next destination: Tuscany.

Knowing, the drive would take a good 3 hours, some had already leaned back, ready to enjoy the long drive. They were wondering what the house they'd stay at next would look like. Knowing the production team, they probably went all out. Minnie had engaged in a comfortable conversation with Yeongseok during their lunch in the episode before, making them get closer than they were before. The girl had started to realise that this trip truly wouldn't be like the 'Youth Over Flowers' she had watched before. They had talked about the other members, life in general, and just getting to know each other member. She was definitely starting to warm up to him quite a lot. Minnie had been a fan of the man and the shows he had done in the past for quite a while, so getting to know him personally was quite intimidating. But just like the idol group as well, Na PD was too kind-hearted to not like him. The whole production crew in general. In some aspects, Minnie could see the members in some of the producers. How they could turn out in a few years, personality-wise. With shared humour and traits, it was easy to get close to them. They were enjoying a holiday together after all.

"Iced Americano...," Yeongseok suddenly spoke up.

"I love it so much."

"Is so nice."

"Thank you so much." Came from different members as answers. They didn't know yet, that the drink wasn't being offered to them.

At this point, Na PD was just showing off, as they had found out. "I really like it, that's just what I said," he commented with a devilish smile already teasing his lips. Some of the members were getting quite desperate, and he noticed it, but it only amused the older man even more.

"But... there might be some members who like it, right?" He wondered teasingly.

"Like it?" Minnie wonders out loud, her head popping out from behind the seats of Wonwoo and Woozi. "Seungkwan breathes Iced Americano!" Getting a round of chuckles from the members, including Yeongseok.

"Oh, is that so?" He asked the younger member who just so happened to sit right behind him. "Well... if there are other members that like it... we brought 13 cups just in case."

The bus was immediately filled with groans of desperation and shock, everyone surprised by the kind gesture. Especially from the members who had been living life on the limit with the caffeine deficit they had been enduring over the past few days as the espresso they'd get in the city was not pleasing their tastebuds.

So, Na PD was holding onto 13 cups of coffee, but he wasn't just going to give them to each of the members, they had found out. The production crew came up with an 'S.Coups quiz' where the prize of each rightly-answered question would be one of the cups. At this point, you could feel the heated personalities of the members rise up and physically watch as the more competitive members sat up straighter in their seats. Minnie smirked.

"As a reference, we don't know the answers either," Yeongseok explained. "We need to do a video call and find out."

"Ooooh," Minnie whispered to herself.

After going through the rules one more time, the first question was thrown at them right away.

"'Coups' quiz!" Na PD called out, "Right now, what is S.Coups doing? In detail."

A few hands shot up immediately, but Mingyu was the first to also call out his name, therefore getting picked first.

"After dying his hair, he's at home," he simply answered.

The producer repeated his answer, making sure he got each detail correctly.

"After he finished dying his hair, he went home," the '97 Liner explained one more time.

"But I'm curious about what he's doing at home right now," Yeongseong told him, making a few more hands come up.

"Minnie!" The female member shouted out, getting picked next. "He's playing video games."

"And what kind of video games?" He nagged further.

The girl sighed out with a smile, "How am I supposed to know that? He plays a lot..."

"I need to know everything in detail," the man clarified one more time.

The next member to try and get the right answer was Vernon, who repeated Minnie's answer with a little addition.

"Computer game," he stated.

"Ah, computer game? And what game?"

With a groan, the '98 Liner leaned forward, tilting his head into the narrow walkway of the bus, holding onto the handles by the seat in front of him, where Wonwoo was sitting. The older member turned to the side with a smirk on his lips,

"LoL, LoL, LoL," he kept on repeating, trying to help the younger rapper. This didn't go unnoticed by the girl, who gasped once Vernon repeated what he had just been told.

"You cheater," she whispered at him as soon as his back hit the cushion of his seat again.

"Blame Wonwoo-hyung. He helped me," he defended himself, only getting a shake of her head from Minnie in return, her lips pressed together tightly.

Hoshi, Jun, Woozi, and Joshua gave their own ideas as well, desperately hoping their answer would be the right one. Before anyone else could even be picked, Mingyu shouted out to grab everyone's attention. He had caught Minghao texting Seungcheol and filmed him to have evidence in his hands. The dancer was thrown out of this round by Na PD, making the other members celebrate in glee.

Wonwoo, Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Dino, and Jeonghan were the last ones to drop their answer - Minghao was still too sulky to give his.

Seungkwan was the one who would get to call the leader via video call. He fixed his hair while waiting for the oldest member to pick up. Dokyeom was hoping he'd be on the toilet pooping. After a good minute of silence from the other end of the line, they were close to giving up on the call when Wonwoo chuckled out loud. He had found S.Coups' 'online' status on the Discord app. They decided to call him that way, but only to tell him to pick up the video call from the '98 Liner, so they'd be able to see him. After another try, they were finally met with his face on the phone screen in the younger member's hands. They briefly went over the quiz they were currently doing before getting to the question they all had been desperately waiting to ask him.

"What are you doing?"

"Right now? Playing games," he told them, getting a loud shout of glee from Vernon in the very back.

"I said that!" Minnie argued with the member next to her, hitting his shoulder as he was celebrating his not-yet-fixed win a little too much.

"What game?" Dokyeom raised his voice so the leader would be able to hear him.

Seungkwan repeated it. "What game exactly?"

"LoL."

That's when the girl scoffed out with an annoyed smirk, letting the boy to her right shout out in glee.

"I said LoL!" He proudly announced. The girl just shook her head. He was handed over his cup of Iced Americano and took a sip, followed by a happy sigh as he leaned back.

"I hate you so much right now," the girl joked, glancing over at the younger member.

Vernon chuckled, "You should've listened to Wonwoo when he said it."

"But he said it to you! He didn't even try to help me," she whined, the feeling of betrayal hitting her. "Unbelievable," she mumbled under her breath. The '98 Liner couldn't help but laugh at her.

Thankfully, they were quick to move on to the next question.

"It's 11pm in Korea right now," Na PD started again. "Coups is currently playing a lot of LoL. BUT... before he played LoL... what did Coups eat for dinner?"

Everyone immediately agreed that the answer to this would be too hard for them to guess. After all, there were at least a thousand different things he could've ordered or made. But still, Mingyu was, once again, the first one to guess, giving his answer with, "Chicken breasts!" The leader was on a diet after all. The maknae decided on him probably not eating anything at all since the '95 Liner would be filming his part of the 'God of Music' music video the following day.

Dokyeom, Jun, and Joshua followed right after, each giving a different answer. Hoshi went against Dino's idea and threw out that the oldest of the group enjoyed a heavy meal before starting to play his game. And Vernon was the last one to give his answer.

"Did everyone guess?" The producer wondered out loud, losing count of each of the members once again.

The idols started looking around the bus. The ones who didn't want to give an answer shook their head.

"Minnie hasn't said anything yet!" Vernon called out, earning himself a nudge to his ribs.

"Oh- noona! What's your answer?" The youngest leaned forward as he glimpsed to his left to get a look at the female member.

Yeongseok pushed himself up to glance at the very back of the bus. "Minnie-ya!" He shouted out for her, "What do you think?"

"I don't want to say anything!" She whined back, still sulky from the moment between Vernon and Wonwoo.

"Ah- don't be like that," Na PD sighed. "You know S.Coups well, right?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "Naengmyeon."

"Naengmyeon?!" The producer raised his voice in confusion, followed by the other members who did the same.

"Never mind," Dino shook his head, "She takes that back." His remark got a few chuckles from the others.

Seungkwan turned around, "But he has a shoot tomorrow."

"Well, maybe he wanted to treat himself before work. He likes naengmyeon," she argued back, looking over the seats in front of her.

"No... I don't think so," Mingyu muttered, daring to take a quick peek over to the side, where she was already glaring at him.

"Not everyone can enjoy a boring diet like yours," she threw at him, making Vernon laugh and push her back by her shoulders.

"No fighting, kids!" Na PD demanded with a smile and a shake of his head, mumbling something inaudible under his breath. "Let's find out."

That time, Jeonghan was handed the phone to call the leader. Within only a few rings, he picked up the second video call.

"Oh, Jeonghan-ah," S.Coups greeted the second oldest of the group, his eyes switching between looking at the phone screen and his computer.

"Hey, Coups. What did you eat for dinner?" He got straight to the point.

"For dinner?" Cheol wondered out loud. "Ehm... I had... Naengmyeon."

"Naengmyeon!" Jeonghan repeated it louder to let everyone hear. Loud gasps filled the bus in an instant.

Minnie shot up from her seat, "REALLY?!"

"You really ate naengmyeon?" Dokyeom couldn't believe the answer the leader had given them. "Why did you eat naengmyeon when you have the music video filming tomorrow?"

Vernon, still surprised by the actual answer, scooted forward in his seat. "Why are you eating naengmyeon?" All while Minnie was looking at the phone Jeonghan was still holding up with a big smile on her face.

A few more exclaims fell from the members, clearly stunned by the meal choice of the oldest member before Jeonghan tried to hang up the phone.

"Wait-," the leader called out, "Jeonghan. What do you think of my dyed hair?"

The '95 Liner grinned, "Pretty, pretty!" He lifted the hand that was clutching onto the phone, "Guys, Coups' hair is pretty, right?" Of course, he got each member to agree with hums, nods, and words directed to the leader.

"Oppa, your hair looks so pretty!" Minnie shouted out happily, "Thank you for eating naengmyeon!"

"What did she say?" The oldest chuckled, moving closer to the screen with scrunched eyebrows.

Jeonghan chuckled, "She says your hair is pretty and thanked you for eating naengmyeon."

"Did she get it right?" To which the other member nodded. "You're welcome, Minnie-ya!"

"He says 'you're welcome'!" The singer turned around in his seat, his eyes immediately on the grinning girl, who sent a dramatic flying kiss in his direction. Vernon pulled her down with an amused shake of his head.

A few 'goodbyes' back and forth later, the video call ended.

"So, Minnie-ya!" Na PD called out for the female member, "You really got it right!"

"I know!" Grinning from ear to ear, Minnie's smile could've lit up a dark room instantly.

"Well done," Woozi nodded to himself, "I would've never thought he'd eat that while dieting."

Wonwoo glanced at his fellow '96 Liner, "Me neither."

"Noona apparently really knows Coups-hyung the best," Dino commented, watching the grin not leaving her lips.

"Seems like it," Dokyeom agreed.

"You deserved it. Enjoy the Iced Americano!" The producer congratulated her, handing over the cold plastic cup to the back, each member passing it further until it reached Vernon, who tried to take a sip.

A smack to his arm stopped him, "What are you doing?" The girl smiled at him, getting a chuckle in return as he finally handed her her prize.

"Thank youuuu!" She shouted one more time before bringing the coffee up to her lips, a smile still plastered on her face.

In true Seventeen fashion, they came up with a deal next. Agreeing, that the S.Coups quiz might be too hard, for some, they asked for an Italy trivia quiz instead. As Na PD was very knowledgeable in the culture and history, having been here before, he let himself get dragged into the agreement. Minnie already knew she'd prefer to stay in the background, happily sipping on her coffee while she watched the chaos unfold right in front of her.

Only when it suddenly turned into a quiz just for Dino, Minnie's ears perked up.

"Listen to the question first. Just think about it," Yeongseok told the maknae, who had moved slightly forward, now sitting at the edge of his seat. "What word refers to the world-famous first division of professional Italian soccer?" The members were quick to agree that the question was easy to answer, but the youngest just nodded along mindlessly.

Na PD tried to encourage him, promising that he'd be able to get to answer while looking for others to do the same. He called out Dokyeom, who was smiling at him, expecting him to support the '99 Liner, when instead, he suddenly shouted out the correct answer.

"Serie A!"

"W-Why are you saying it?" The producer laughed out loud, the rest of the group joining him, glancing back at the '97 Liner who started to apologise, not having realised he wasn't supposed to actually answer the given question.

"Oh..." Dino sat up straighter, "Is that the answer?"

Na PD couldn't help but laugh warmly at the maknae. "This-... He doesn't even know what it is!"

"No, I thought it was Paris Saint-Germain," he explained. The entire bus filled with laughter.

The girl whipped her head to the right, getting a chuckle from Vernon, who was already clutching his stomach from the antics of the other members.

"That's the of a team!"

"That's a team from Paris!" Vernon and Minnie laughed out loud together, the younger member finding more humour in the situation while the girl looked genuinely concerned, her eyebrows scrunched together and her lips slightly agape.

Mingyu patted Dino's shoulder, "That's in Paris!"

"It's Paris!" Vernon hit his thigh, raising his voice slightly.

"Dino-ya-" Minnie started, but was interrupted.

"Wait, wait-" the youngest stopped everyone around him, "Isn't Italy part of Europe?"

The '98 Liner could barely hold himself together anymore, nudging his elbow into the maknae's side, laughing out loud as if he was gasping for air. In shock, Minnie leaned back into her chair. The rapper looked over, finding her covering her mouth with a hand and closing her eyes to take a deep breath. It only made him laugh harder.

"Is he serious?" She asked him, chuckling at how he was barely holding on. "Is this real?" She shook her head, leaning over to pat the '99 Liner's thigh. "Dino-ya," he turned his head to meet her eye, "Paris Saint-Germain is a team from Paris. Paris is a city in France. Both Italy and France are in Europe, but one thing doesn't have to do anything with the other."

"Aaaah, really?" He nodded his head. At least somebody was educating this man.

With a defeated look, Minnie let herself fall back against the cushion. A quick peek to the side made her chuckle as Vernon was already looking at her with a grin plastered on his face.

EP2-4. Today's chefs, SEVENTEEN!

The bus went on for another hour or two that was spent quietly as each member focused on themselves. Most eyes were focused on the passing landside, and others were trained on their phones. Minnie managed to catch a quick nap of only a few minutes but it definitely helped to let the time pass.

"We're arriving at the supermarket in 20 minutes," Na PD announced. "Think about what we're going to eat today."

"Who wants to go to the supermarket?" Seungkwan questioned the room.

Mingyu was quick to react, "I want to go!"

"Me too," the '98 Liner added.

As Dino was the manager who was holding onto all of the pocket money the group had received, he wondered, "Should I go?" The members agreed.

The eyes of the biggest member drifted to the other side of the bus, "Minnie-ya," catching the attention of the girl. "Do you want to go too?" Knowing she'd actually be of big help in the grocery store as the designated members would only be able to converse in English in emergencies.

She nodded with a smile, "Yeah, sure."

"Minnie, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Dino," Wonwoo counted out loud, making the rest of the group nod. It was a good choice of members that would buy fun stuff, good stuff, but still responsibly.

Now that they had the chosen buyers that would hit the supermarket, the next decision would be what they'd even want to buy. What would be on the menu for the evening? It didn't take long to agree on the cuisine: Korean. None of them had the energy or confidence at that point to recreate any of the meals they were gifted during their lunch break. They knew they could cook something Korean, they just hoped they'd find the right ingredients.

The four got off the bus, heading over to get a cart first.

"Woah... it looks like an American Supermarket," the girl commented, following the '98 Liner who had already spotted the carts.

Inside, they immediately started looking for the meat section. They found the counter, with a woman and a man behind it, who was already looking at them as they got closer. Their eyes drifted over each meat they offered, trying to find something them and the others would enjoy. Minnie didn't get to say anything before Mingyu started talking to the employee, pointing at the raw meat he had found.

"Is that pork belly?" The girl wondered, stopping by his right, glancing at the butcher who was cutting it into thick pieces.

The rapper shrugged, "I think. It looks like it." They also found some pork neck, asking the man to cut some for them as well.

Next: Chicken. Just further down, they found more meat in individual coolers. Seungkwan reached out for one plastic-wrapped carton.

"Doesn't this look like chicken breast?" The maknae wondered.

Mingyu reached out to grab it, taking a closer look. "Isn't it intestines?" At the mention, Minnie's face scrunched up in disgust. She wasn't vegetarian, but she had her limits. "Do you know?" He looked down at her.

Taking a small step closer to his side, he held up the package for her. "Petto Pollo Coop? Pollo means chicken ...," she told the group. "And I'm pretty sure Petto means chest. But I don't know about Coop"

"Are you sure?" Seungkwan asked her, but her nod was hesitant.

"Like... 90%, yeah."

"That's good enough," Mingyu tossed it into the cart without another word, before leaning down into the cooler to get more. "Let's buy a lot of this."

At their stop in the seafood section, the girl stood back, letting the guys decide as she was the last person to ask when it came to a meal including anything from the ocean. The other members locked their eyes on some salmon and just decided to take a few more packages of it, not caring about anything else from that side of the supermarket.

They hit the vegetables and frozen foods section next, making a quick stop at a small stall that held freshly made warm chicken they could buy.

"The members would like this," they commented.

During their time in the drinks department, they noticed just how quickly the cart was filling up.

"The members drink a lot of Pepsi, right?" Seungkwan chuckled at the sight of multiple bottles and cans they had thrown in.

Minnie laughed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "They need their caffeine." Knowing she was one of said members.

"Underwear," the '98 Liner suddenly remembered. "Underwear for the members.

"Oh, right," Mingyu nodded, "We have slippers, but we need to buy underwear." In the aisle, the girl split from the other guys as female underwear was on the other end of the line, having to look for it herself. Her fellow '97 Liner noticed her sudden absence, walking over to where she was standing.

"Did you find something?" He wondered.

Minnie nodded, holding up her hand that was clinging onto two hangers, each with a bra, while in her other she was holding a few three-sets of underwear. Without asking, Mingyu reached out, getting everything out of her grip as he noticed her eyes were still searching for something. She let go of it easily, knowing better than to fight his stubborn head when it came to carrying things for her.

"What are you looking for?" He asked her, walking along with her as she took slow steps down the aisle.

"A bikini."

"You mean a swimsuit?"

Minnie chuckled with a roll of her eyes, glancing up at him, a knowing grin on her lips. "Whatever I can find. But preferably a bikini."

A few steps to the right, he stopped right in front of something he had found. "What about this?" He nudged his head towards the shelves. With raised eyebrows, the girl walked over, wondering what he had seen that she could want. As soon as her eyes fixed on it, she stopped in her tracks. A wetsuit. Of course.

"Funny," she jokingly glared at him, getting a chuckle out of him in return.

"I'm serious," he shrugged, knowing damn well that girl wasn't about to buy a wetsuit to wear to the pool they would have at the next place.

Minnie shook her head, her lips still curled to a smile. "No, I think I'll go with this one." Walking back to take what she had located earlier off the rack. "But thank you for your opinion."

She held it up, watching Mingyu just turn around, ready to join the others again. The female member jogged a bit to catch up with him, giggling at his antics.

On their way to the register, they passed a snack aisle, stopping there for a bit to roam around, throwing anything that looked somewhat good into their cart. Crisps, gummies, literally anything. Minnie was the only one, who pushed them towards the fruits that were lined up against the wall of the grocery store. She got a few bananas and apples, still thinking about somehow evening out their intake of unhealthy snacks - it was a bad habit of hers that was hard to get rid of.

They had texted the other members early, once they got in line, so they'd come to help them with the almost insane amount of bags filled with food, clothes, and ingredients. Only 40 minutes later, they were outside and back on the bus again.

Minnie fell into another quick nap on the bus as the darkness illuminated by the warm street lights made her even sleepier than she already was. She only realised they had arrived when groans and hollers of happiness filled the confined space.

The group got off the bus and made their way forward towards the house, some had offered to carry the boxes and bags from the grocery store along with them. Minnie was one of the last ones in line as they finally got to the old-fashioned farmhouse.

Entering it felt like almost jumping into a new universe. Old stones and ancient furniture with an Italian touch surrounded them.

"Wow...," the girl gasped as soon as she walked it, trying to take in every corner she passed. "This is so beautiful... oh my God..." The members who were in front of her agreed, each one of them not able to grasp the beauty of the building they'd be staying in for the next few days. Every detail was so simple yet so pretty, the stones on the wall adding to the vintage feeling of the house. It was old, yet cosy and warm. It felt inviting.

The house had enough bedrooms for the members to share, some holding two beds, some having three. But who would get to sleep in which one, they'd decide through a game of 'Rock-Paper-Scissors'.

"It doesn't really matter here because all of them are nice," Woozi commented, making Minnie, who was standing next to him nod in agreement.

Once it was her turn to choose a room, she started roaming around again, taking a peek into each one to see what members had already occupied which ones. The two rooms right by the front door were the last ones she'd get to look at. She walked to the one on her left first.

"Oh, noona!" Dino greeted her with a big smile. Mingyu came back out from the attached bathroom, glancing at the girl.

"You guys are here?" She wondered, to which the two members nodded. "Alright." Without another word, she exited it again, walking across the floor to the other one.

"Hello?" She called out into the, what seemed to be an empty, room. When she didn't get an answer back, she shrugged and threw the tote bag, which Jeonghan had bought for each member back in Rome, on the double bed. Only a second later, she let her body fall onto the mattress, a pleasant groan tumbling from her lips. She let her eyes close for a split second before some of the other guys suddenly appeared in her doorway.

"Do you guys already have a bed?"

Dokyeom nodded, "I'm sharing a room with Jeonghannie-hyung," he told her.

"And I'm with Vernon and Woozi," Hoshi told her, making her nod.

They were quick to walk back into their individual rooms again and Minnie decided to take a look at the bathroom, whose door was against the same wall as the bed.

"Where's a bed that's left?" The last member of the game, Wonwoo, shouted through the house. He walked into the room that was closest to him on his right. The room that Minghao and Jun shared.

"I think Minnie's alone in her room," the '97 Liner stated as soon as he saw the older member enter.

"Where's her room?" He asked them, turning around without waiting for an answer. "Minnie-ya?" His loud voice bounced off the old walls as he continued walking through the living room, towards the entrance door.

"What?" She called back, walking out of the bathroom again, towards the door to her room, stepping out to see what was going on. Her eyes met Wonwoo's, who was taking quick steps up to her

"Minghao said you have a bed left," he explained. Minnie nodded, a yawn suddenly coming up, making her cover her mouth. She walked back inside.

"You can share it with me," she spoke through the sign of sleepiness, making the rapper chuckle. The female member sat down on the bed, watching the '96 Liner put his stuff onto the chair in the corner. She leaned back to get a hold of her bag.

"Can you put my stuff there too? Please." She asked, handing him the tote bag to collect all of their clothes and personal items in one place.

The two decided to walk back outside, finding some of the boxes the members had left in the living room that were filled with ingredients that would be more suitable in the kitchen. Just as they went to pick them up and make their way downstairs, Hoshi joined the duo.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" He wondered, looking at Wonwoo who nodded at him before his eyes fell on the girl, who was carrying one of the boxes that was clearly way too heavy. "Oh- wait, give that to me."

"No, no, it's okay," she brushed him off.

"No, let me help you," he argued back, winning the fight as she let go of the carton, choosing to follow him in silence down the stairs, where their maknae greeted them. As soon as they reached the ground floor, Dino walked over to the performance leader, taking over in carrying the heavy box.

"Hyung!" Minnie chuckled at the scene in front of her, "You said you wanted to help me."

"But our maknae is so strong, how could I say no," he defended himself with a grin, making the girl shake her head.

"I worked out," Dino proudly announced with a big smile on his lips, getting all three of the members to chuckle sweetly.

They put everything on the kitchen island before going through each item individually. Minnie took a second to look around the room.

"This... this really looks like a dream house. And a dream kitchen."

"I know," Mingyu agreed, "I said to Dino this is the perfect height for a counter," before turning around, "And the stove is really good too."

The female member looked down at the surface, her hands brushing over the wood, "Really pretty."

"This is egg," her fellow '97 Liner announced, handing the item over to the youngest who was standing by an open fridge door.

"Eggs. Multiple," Minnie chuckled. She didn't correct the other members' English very often, but every now and then, she would decide that a remark was more important. Just like now.

"Eggs," Mingyu repeated, continuing to go through their groceries. "This is- OH, ice cream. Ice cream, ice cream," his tone suddenly became rushed. "Come on yo, come on yo!" The girl couldn't help but laugh at her members.

"Emergency, emergency!" Dino played into it, repeating the words over and over again while finding a place for the item in the freezer.

"You guys are weird," she mumbled under her breath with a smile, collecting the bags of salad Wonwoo and Hoshi were placing on the counter.

The rest of the group had started to come together in the kitchen, circling the island. Everyone but Jun and Vernon as they had found comfort on the couch and their bed, motion sickness from the drive slowly catching up with them.

"Then, I will start," Mingyu, the main cook of the group announced. "We just need to grill the meat, chop the ingredients and set it up." He pointed at Dokyeom, "You need to make the stew, right?"

His fellow '97 Liner nodded, "Yeah, I'll make the stew."

Hoshi, who already had his mouth full of snacks, spoke up. "There can't be too many chefs. You two be the main chefs," he decided. "Tell us if you need anything." The others agreed, knowing that too many members would just cause chaos they didn't need.

"Okay!" Mingyu exclaimed, rolling up his already short sleeves, "Let's move quickly."

Dokyeom and Minnie had gathered at the corner of the kitchen island, eyeing the meat they had bought.

"I will do about four strips of pork," the singer clarified, "Four stripes." Glancing over at the rapper of the '97 Line, hoping to get his opinion.

He nodded, "Four strips would be good."

"What can I help you guys with? Anything I can cut up?" The girl wondered, but before DK could say anything, Mingyu shook his head.

"No, it's okay."

"But I want to help," she argued, walking over to the man by the stove. "Tell me what I can do."

He turned around, pointing straight forward. At the table. "Sit there."

The female member rolled her eyes and smacked his arm, "Stop, I'm serious." Watching him move around to gather everything he'd need. "I can hand you pots or something. A cooking spoon?"

"No," Mingyu shook his head with a chuckle, "I really don't need help."

"I could-" Not even letting her finish, the rapper grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her forward, stopping by the kitchen island.

"Just stay right here." He told her before going back to the fried rice he would be preparing on the stove.

Minnie sighed in defeat, taking her place next to Wonwoo and Minghao, who were focused on DK and Dino on the other side of the island.

"Dokyeom-ah, can I help you with something?" She moved on to the next member, but he had already caught up on the conversation that happened behind him merely a few seconds ago.

"No, Minnie-ya. But thank you for offering."

Bored out of her mind, the female member waltzed through the room, looking around the walls and vintage display case in one of the corners. After that didn't seem to fill her boredom anymore, she stopped by the table. Wonwoo was already sitting on a chair on the left side of it.

"You need to leave the cooking to the ones who cook well," he stated, noticing the silence from the girl after she was practically thrown out of the kitchen.

"But I can cook as well," Minnie whined, "Or at least help." She took a deep breath in, "But I agree, you really shouldn't cook." Making both of them chuckle in unison.

"If I put my hands on it... not delicious," he stated, making the female member laugh with a nod.

She spent most of the rest of the time by the dining table, taking a few glances back at the kitchen, internally hoping, she'd get something to do. That's when her gaze fell on Mingyu, who just stood by the kitchen island... when he was supposed to be the one to cook. With scrunched eyebrows, she got up from the chair, making her way over to where more members had gathered together. That's when she saw it. Minghao had replaced the rapper's position by the stove.

She gasped quietly, "You let Hao help, but not me?" Minnie glared up at the man in front of her, who shook his head.

"Minnie-ya...," he sighed, meeting her eyes as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Maybe you should live with him," she mumbled, a pout evident on her lips.

"Stop being like that," He reached out to get a hold of her arm, but she moved away swiftly. Only that she had forgotten about his much longer legs and arms. With a big step forward, he was able to grab her gently by her upper arm, pulling her to turn back around, facing him now.

"Do you really think I cook bad?" She asked him immediately, gazing up at him with her lips almost quivering. Mingyu could tell her sleepiness was catching up with her as this wouldn't be her usual behaviour. His eyes softened. He chuckled and shook his head,

"No, I don't think you cook bad. But can you please just sit back and relax. You fell asleep on the bus twice. Just rest for now." Pointing at the table, where Jeonghan was sitting now. She had already sighed too many times to count anymore.

At some point during their food preparations, Minnie had gotten up and rushed up the stairs to get her own zip-up hoodie, the same one Seungkwan had surprised them with. Once she was back downstairs again, the table was fully set, and the members were getting ready to sit down. The seat by the corner, next to of the dining table, right next to the main vocalist was kept free, suggesting that she could claim it for herself.

"It's comfortable, right?" Seugnkwan asked her as soon as she sat down, seeing the black hoodie engulfing her body.

The female member nodded with a smile, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, "It's really warm."

Each of them was able to put on their plate whatever their heart desired, they had enough options. Dokyeom's stew, Mingyu's meat and fried rice, the salad Dino made, along with the already cooked chicken they bought in the supermarket, as well as other small things they heated up during their cooking.

Once a spoon of the stew hit her tongue, the girl groaned in pleasure, "Woah...," she sighed, "Even on the other side of the world, Korean food still tastes so good." Getting a nod from the members next to her. "Well done, Dokyeom."

The singer grinned, "Thank you, Minnie, I'm glad you like it."

The members ate well, even if they didn't think they would, recalling their big lunch only a few hours ago. But with the variety they had, none of them could say no. Minnie filled her plate with some rice, along with the Salad the others didn't touch, due to the yellow mustard Dino had used instead of honey mustard, but the girl didn't mind.

"At least someone likes the salad," the maknae commented, noticing the girl eating it. With a piece of it in her mouth, she giggled, covering the lower half of her face.

"It's still good, Dino," nodding at him reassuringly, "You did very well."

The maknae smiled proudly, going back to finishing his own plate of food.

After the last member decided they couldn't put another piece of anything on the table into their mouths, the time for cleaning up arrived. Usually, the group would play a quick game to decide on the roles, but for that evening they just agreed to do it all together. Woozi and Hoshi would be in charge of washing the dishes, while the others would be cleaning up the table and collecting trash.

"What are you going to do with the leftover nuggets?" Wonwoo wondered while most of them were gathered around the table, cleaning the plates and throwing away the remains of what they had just eaten.

"We can wrap them up and put them in the fridge," Minnie suggested, holding onto two plates, on her way to get them to the sink.

"Wrap them in plastic?" He asked further.

The girl nodded, "Yeah, I'll do it here," nodding at the now almost empty counter.

"Wrap them in plastic. Wrap them in your rap," Dokyeom just spat out.

Wonwoo chuckled at the comment, "Should I?" Not even waiting for an answer, he already started, on his way into the kitchen. "YO!"

Minnie, who came back to gather the nuggets from his hold, stopped to laugh, pushing him away from her with a slight shove.

"Oooh, nice, nice!" Joshua complimented him.

"What was that?" She chuckled along with the others. The rapper only shook his head, moving her to walk back towards the kitchen island with a hand on her back.

"What's with Wonwoo's form?" The '95 Liner wondered, still laughing along with Dokyeom.

"He really is a Hip-Hop-Unit member," Minnie commented, earning her a nudge to her side, but a round of chuckles from the guys by the table. She had found the cling foil and was about to cut a piece off it, the box of nuggets already in front of her.

"Ah..." Wonwoo sighed, "This is too big to wrap it up in my rap."

The female member shook her head again, "Stop," she couldn't hold back a giggle.

"I think we need to use Coups' rap," he explained to Dokyeom, who exclaimed his disappointment, continuing the joke.

A grin tickled Minnie's lips at the comment that came to her head. "Because he's a better rapper than you?" She teased, looking up once she heard a gasp from her fellow '97 Liner, but silence from her dormmate.

"Wow..." he met her eyes as she bit down on her lips, trying not to break into a fit of laughter. "Wow..." Wonwoo just repeated while Dokyeom was already crouching over from laughing right behind them.

Minghao, who was just on his way over to them had stopped in his tracks, "Did she say he's a better rapper than you?" With wide eyes, he glanced at the two. "Did you really?"

"I'm sorry," Minnie shyly admitted, reaching out to place her hands on the rapper's arm. Was she, though? Not really.

The reaction it got out of the members made it definitely worth it. Sometimes, they'd forget the sharp tongue the female member was born with.

"I just wanted to say because he's louder," the '96 Liner looked down at the '97 Liners who were chortling together. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry!" She laughed, wrapping her arms around his frame, her face squished up against his chest. "You're right, he's only a louder rapper than you."

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere

#minnie 🌷#seventeen #seventeen oc #seventeen 14th member #kpop #kpop oc #added member

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dalgursbate · 7 months ago

Text

make a mess, lioness (4/?)

Summary: It’s much easier to get the upper hand in a negotiation when you’re the one on top. Or, Tav reads Raphael’s diaries.

WC: 12,194 Rating: E Pairing: M/F, Raphael/Tav, Raphael/Haarlep, Haarlep/Tav

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

When Tav awakes at dawn the next morning, her body aches like a sweet memory even as her gut roils with the bile and lead that seem to have made a home in it. Every stretch of her poor, abused form is at once delicious and terrifying; every exploratory press of fingertips into tender flesh revealing another place where she has been made vulnerable by Raphael’s touch.

She struggles to swallow, choking on nothing but her own tightening throat at the thought of the bet she’s made. She doesn’t remember the exact details, isn’t sure that Raphael even really described them before she metaphorically signed, but she knows that wagering with one’s soul is typically bad form.

Oh well. It’s too late to change the past, Tav supposes. And if she’s being honest, part of her is a little titillated at the thought of this cat and mouse game with Raphael playing out. There’s something about the idea of teasing him, driving him crazy, that she hasn’t been able to shake since she first read his diaries. She is, truthfully, looking forward to getting to indulge that impulse freely; she finds it exhilarating even as it frightens her. Mostly, she just wishes she better understood the terms of their agreement.

Almost as if a prayer has been answered, Tav notices through the thin haze of grogginess clouding her mind that a crisp envelope is waiting for her in her tent, poised delicately atop her robes (and had she folded them so immaculately last night? She doesn’t think so).

Tav would know who the missive was from even if the telltale aroma of cherries and sulfur didn’t cling to the paper, but the smell of it nevertheless sets a frisson of heat alight in her belly. Ugh, she thinks. It’s humiliating how susceptible she is to Raphael’s charms, sometimes. Nevertheless, she holds out hope that whatever is inside of it will offer some clarification on the situation she has gotten herself into.

As she picks up the envelope, Tav can feel that there’s something small and bulky inside of it, something other than mere paper, and she wonders at what that might be. But as she removes the wax seal adorned with a devilish crest, the first thing she encounters is a piece of parchment. Carefully, Tav begins to scan the page, though her efforts are thwarted somewhat by the lingering sleep that still clings to her eyes. It makes it a bit difficult to focus on the words, but eventually Tav is able to parse them. The letter, perfumed with the scent of Raphael’s cologne and written in a fine, cursive hand, reads:

The lanceboard is set and the curtains are drawn,

But the game we shall stage will have nary a pawn.

Instead, it is waged ‘twixt a King and his Queen,

And ends only when one must exeunt from the scene.

For in order is bliss, we shall take play in turns;

Each to stoke in the other the fire that burns.

On this board, the players have charge of their rival–

Your turn only forfeit upon your arrival.

You may use them, abuse them, amuse at your leisure,

But moves must be made in pursuit of their pleasure.

Now, enough exposition; let’s begin the dramatics–

For this story has promised to be quite climactic.

White always moves first, so, my dear little bird:

Collect now your piece, pet, and utter the word.

As Tav finishes reading, she notices that the ink on the page smells faintly of Infernal magic; it seems that Raphael has somehow altered the terms of their agreement, or perhaps simply elaborated them. At least, Tav thinks he has. She doesn’t quite remember what exactly she assented to last night, after all, given the state she was in; it’s possible that this was all in there, though that seems unlikely with how frenzied the whole situation had felt. It’s also possible, she imagines, that the agreement was so vague that Raphael was able to define the terms to his own liking, devil that he is. Either way, she has obviously made a grave error in not hammering out the details more precisely.

Still, at least these rules offer a bit of clarity. If Tav is reading it right, it seems like they’ll each get to take turns subjecting the other to erotic torture, and the turn ends when the person whose turn it is orgasms. So on and so forth until one of them cries uncle. Simple enough, and thankfully Tav already has a number of ideas about how she might exploit such a loose structure to her advantage. They slide around in her mind easily, the images of them caressing her brain in a way that sends excitement straight to the core of her.

Perhaps this won’t be so bad, she thinks as she upends the envelope, dumping the other item inside of it into her waiting palm. As the skin of her hand is greeted by cool, heavy stone, Tav quickly recognizes the small statue as a lanceboard piece. Specifically, the white queen. After all, it seems like it’s my turn first. There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the piece, aside from its obviously fine make, except that around its neck is a thin scarlet ribbon. The ribbon bears a tiny slip of paper, upon which the unfamiliar spell “cupio” is written in neat lettering.

Tav absentmindedly mutters the word aloud to herself, testing the feel of it out on her tongue, and two things happen at once.

First, the ink on the letter glows bright, fiery red for a moment before cooling back to the rust-colored script that lay there previously. Oh, Tav thinks. So it probably wasn’t actually binding before. She presumes it is now, though—that her adherence to the instruction constituted consent to the new terms.

This is why I’m a sorcerer and not a warlock, Tav thinks to herself with a groan.

The second thing that happens is somehow more distressing, which is that as the spell leaves her lips the queen begins vibrating wildly, as though affected by some variation of the blur spell. It isn’t making any noise, but she can feel it buzzing against her skin in a strange and intoxicating manner, like she is holding a handful of surprisingly pleasant bees.

Then, as if on cue, a mage hand appears from thin air and delicately plucks the piece from her hand. She only has a moment to be startled before the hand is moving again. It traces the crown of the queen over the bones in Tav’s wrist, as though mapping out her anatomy with due care. Gradually, it leads the piece up her arm, just barely dragging the tip of it over her skin.

It is like nothing she’s ever experienced before, the stone humming intently but delicately over her flesh. As it tickles her sensitive inner arm and dances up over her shoulder, she can feel herself sighing and leaning into it intuitively. Tav is only wearing her smallclothes, so the flesh the piece ghosts over is gloriously naked, raising goosebumps in its wake and making her grow wet in anticipation of where else it might touch her. Her body is still so hyperreactive from the way it was lavished over last night, and the hand’s unhurried teasing is exquisite in a way that is entirely foreign to her.

On some level, she knows she ought to be questioning why this is happening. But her mind is still so addled and overwhelmed from Raphael's attentions and the sluggishness of sleep that she does not find she has it in her to put a stop to something so nice. Especially not when the piece glides down her chest to vibrate against her nipples. She can feel them harden almost instantly, a combination of the temperature of the marble and the surprising ecstasy of it, and Tav almost cries out.

She barely has time to focus on smothering the sound before the hand is moving down, down, down to where her cunt is still covered by cotton. It hovers just above the waistband, gently petting her pelvis with the piece through her panties.

And, oh, Gods, she desperately wants to feel this lovely alien sensation on her clit.

“More,” Tav begs without thinking, because of course she doesn’t think. Why would she think? If one were to examine only the past twenty-four hours, they might come to the conclusion that Tav both has never thought and will never think again.

Gods, I could never be a wizard either, she grouses to herself, before adding: And I can never, ever tell Gale that. He would be insufferable about it.

Evidently ignorant to her frustrated internal monologue, the hand acquiesces to the request. Tav lets out a loud gasp that turns into a moan as the strange buzzing lights every nerve in her cunt on fire. The hand rubs the crown of the queen in small, tight circles against her underwear, and it is a matter of mere moments before Tav is writhing and squirming against it. She is captivated by the sheer decadence of it all, by the ease with which the hand has undone her without her having to lift a finger. Without having to take off her smallclothes, even. It has her muttering and whimpering her climax into her fist to keep from making too much noise, undone so thoroughly by something so small.

As soon as she rides out the last waves of pleasure against the cold marble, the hand disappears and the piece ceases its vibration. Tav barely has a moment to catch her breath and come down before her surroundings dissipate in a puff of red, sparkling smoke. When the world comes back together, she is sitting not in her tent at camp, but on the floor of Raphael’s boudoir.

“What the fuck?” Tav asks, blinking up blearily at the cambion in front of her. He’s currently sitting at a desk, dressed in his business attire. She suddenly feels very naked.

“Hello, little mouse,” Raphael grins, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. “Did you enjoy your turn? Because I know I am going to enjoy mine.”

“My turn?” Tav repeats, confused, until the significance of Raphael’s words sets in. Once they have, she is alert in an instant. “But–wait–no. Do you mean just now? I wasn’t even the one in control of that! That’s not what the parchment said.”

“Mmm, I distinctly recall you demanding ‘more,’ pet,” Raphael counters, and by the Gods, Tav swears she is never interacting with a devil before sunrise again. Or after sunset. Really, whenever it’s dark out. “You did not give me any orders to refrain from touching you, as I recall. I am bound by our contract to do as you tell me—not to only do as you tell me.”

Tav processes that, and stows it away for use in the future; that must mean the same is true in reverse. Still, though: “But–but. But that wasn’t for your pleasure, surely.”

“Was it not? Because I enjoyed myself immensely,” he says, and sweeps a hand downward to gesture at the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Tav swallows.

That bastard.

“So it’s your turn, then,” she says slowly, and despite everything she can feel anticipation pulsing in the core of her. “What would you have me do?”

Raphael pretends to think about it for a moment, before saying, “I think I’d like you to come sit on my lap, pet.”

Tav hesitates for a moment, wondering what his game is, but the impatient look in his eye stirs her into motion as she remembers that her soul depends on her compliance. As such, she cautiously begins to shuffle toward him on her knees.

“Oh, but strip first would you? I want to admire you.”

It sounds painfully earnest despite the cool affectation in his voice, and Tav flushes. She does as he asks, though, ridding herself of the lacy underthings adorning her body without a word. As soon as she is naked, she gingerly climbs into his lap.

“Gorgeous,” Raphael says under his breath, almost as though he did not intend to, and Tav can feel the blood rise to her cheeks even faster.

With a gentle hand, Raphael repositions her so that Tav is sitting with her back to his chest, straddling his right thigh. One of his hands slides up the plane of her stomach to cup her breast lightly, while the other kneads a steady rhythm into her hip. A third hand, what Tav assumes must be a mage hand, tangles gently in her hair to guide her to bare her neck. Then, Raphael leans down to drag his nose along the line of her throat. He inhales deeply at her pulse point, apparently savoring her scent, before his tongue darts out to taste her. Distantly, Tav hears herself whine.

“You’re truly delectable, you know,” Raphael says against her skin. “You make it nearly impossible to get any work done.” Once more, Tav finds herself squirming. The praise feels good, feels too good, and it settles inside of her a bit uncomfortably. It is as though half of her brain is fighting to reject his words and the other half desperately craves more of them. “Imagine how it feels to finally have you right where I want you.”

Tav tells herself that he is manipulating her, that he is merely trying to win this game he has started. She tries to gather her bearings and keep her wits about her. Still, she finds herself asking, “This is where you want me?”

“Yes,” Raphael hisses, and his sharp, sharp teeth graze her so very softly. Tav gasps, writhing into the feeling.

She tries to force a dry chuckle from her lips, but it ends up sounding like a strangled cat. “For how long? I have hero stuff to do, you know.”

Raphael doesn’t answer her, just slides the fingers at her hip lower, skates them feverishly over her pelvis. Tav instinctively opens her legs for him, leaning back against him further to offer him better access to her still-dripping cunt. She forces her eyes open, unsure of when exactly they had closed, so she can watch as two of his devilish claws carefully part her folds. Tav is captivated by the sight of it, and she moans unbidden as he spreads his fingers around her clit, rubbing either side of it.

Fuck, it’s so hot. It’s so hot. And then he starts talking again.

“So pretty,” he murmurs against her neck, like he’s reciting a litany. “So clever. So resourceful. So powerful. I hope you realize what a marvel you are.” The pad of one finger grazes over her clit head-on, and Tav nearly screams. She isn’t used to being talked to like this, touched like this. Like she’s more valuable than any finery in the entirety of the House of Hope. Like she’s more valuable than anything. It’s too much, she thinks. I can’t take it. As if Raphael can sense her hesitation, he plants a hot, wet kiss to her throat. The deft fingers on Tav’s clit pick up speed and pressure, rubbing delicious patterns into her skin as she bucks and keens.

“You’re incredible like this,” he says, and the sincerity Tav can hear in his voice sends her reeling. But he refuses to slow down, repeating, as if to himself, “You’re incredible.” He keeps plucking at her strings like a virtuoso does a violin, and Tav feels her incoming climax build in a glorious crescendo. She arcs her hips upwards, bracing her body weight with one hand on the seat of the chair as she throws her head back onto his shoulder. The noises she’s making now are lurid, filthy; tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes.

Raphael speaks again, deadly serious, “Let me cherish you, pet. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Tav mumbles, only half aware of the words leaving her lips, and then cries out. Her bliss overtakes her in a brutal rush of searing heat, wave after wave of arousal and pleasure crashing over her. It feels as though she has dived headfirst into an endless lava pit, the way her bones are melting inside of her with no reprieve in sight. She collapses back into Raphael, panting and gasping for air.

The room is still for a long moment as she recovers. As her breathing calms, Raphael removes his fingers from the slick mess in between Tav’s thighs and sucks them greedily into his mouth.

“You taste good, too,” he says after he removes them, echoing Tav’s words from their first encounter. Against her will, she hears herself whimper. “Now be a good pet and get on your knees.”

#my writing #my fic #bg3 raphael #bg3 tav #raphael/tav #raphael/haarlep #haarlep/tav #make a mess lioness

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katwritessometimes · 4 years ago

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In The Dark

Shadow Monster Aizawa x Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citrus Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: somnophilia, dub-con, non-con, tetraphilia eeee tentaicles kind of? Monster fucking, manipulation, tiny little sprinkling of yandere if you squint.

5kish words

@bobawithpomegranate & @miscellaneous-bnha thanks for keeping me from jumping off a bridge. This was surprisingly very challenging to write so i hope you guys enjoy.

The sight of your grandmother’s old home brought comfort into your heart in a way nothing else ever could. It had taken much longer than you would have liked to get here, after almost a year of fighting with the family. Legal battles over property and inheritance, you'd finally been handed the keys to the beautiful old Victorian home your grandmother had loved so much. The outside was weathered but held strong, you were sure the inside would be worse after being empty and neglected for so long. With a sigh, you picked up the cleaning supplies you'd brought with you and made your way inside the house.

You don't notice it at first,

He’d noticed you the second you walked onto the porch.

Singing softly to yourself, you make your way through the old house, flipping lights on to make sure the electricity works. Opening up windows and doors to air the dusty old place out. Except once you set your mind to cleaning it becomes blatantly obvious. The house isn't dusty, the house is fairly clean, no dust having settled anywhere, no cobwebs hanging in abandoned corners. You think for a second maybe the lawyer hired someone to come clean before handing over the keys, but you don't recall her mentioning anything like that.

With a shrug determined to do some light cleaning anyway, you spend the day unpacking some of the stuff you brought and lightly cleaning as you went. The first time you notice it it’s dark out, dim lights illuminating the house. Christ, why did grandma have such shitty lightbulbs in, you’d think an older woman would want brighter lights as her vision faded. The thought slips from you when you hear something crash onto the floor behind you. You turn quickly, something flinting in the corner of your eye as you turn, heart rate spiking, and you freeze. You were sure you saw something going up the stairs.

Taking a breath in an attempt to calm your breathing, you pick up the painting that had somehow been knocked off its mount. A creaking coming from the second floor has your head snap in that direction. It’s an old house, you chant in your head trying to not let yourself get worked up. You don’t realize you're making your way up the stairs until the old wood creaks loudly under your weight. Your attention is drawn to your grandmother’s room, the only place you haven't been in just yet. You dig around your pocket for the master key that gave you access into the main bedroom, worried that maybe this is where all the dust and cobwebs had scampered off too. You chuckle to yourself at that and it settles your nerves a little, though you can't pinpoint why you're suddenly nervous.

Much to your surprise, your grandmother’s old bedroom was just as clean as the rest of the house had been, even though no one should have been able to access it. You almost miss the small box sitting on her bed if not for something skittering in the corner of your eyes turning your attention to it. You do miss the shadow that slinks out behind you pausing at the doorway to watch you for a second. You reach out for the ornate box, a letter sitting on top of it with your name written neatly on the front. But before your fingers can make contact with it, the door behind you slams loudly. You jump at the sound, hands coming up to clutch at your chest, curses spilling from your lips as you turn to see the door is closed now.

“Fucking old house” You yell aloud unable to control your volume after having been spooked. Your yelling makes you miss the deep chuckle that rings out in the air.

Cute

You pout upset that you’d let yourself be so easily spooked like that. Running a hand through your hair you turn your attention back to the small box and letter picking up both items before heading out of the bedroom. You look back one last time, unsure if you felt ready to disturb your grandmother’s space just yet. Opting to leave it as it was, if only for a little while longer.

You probably should have read the letter too, things would have made sense much quicker if you had.

Two weeks of dusting and cleaning out old boxes before you decided it was time to begin moving your things into the house. It had been slightly odd, something for sure was off about the house but you tried not to think about it too much. Handling most of the weird mishaps in the house with a shrug and no real inclination to question it. The last thing that came with you into the new house was your two cats. A sleek black tom who loves you and only you, and a younger larger orange tom who’s all around very friendly. You hate to say you notice a shift in the house when the cats finally settle. Both the boys took to the house as if they’d always been there, something you were struggling with. It was their presence that made it so that you could no longer pretend like you didn’t see the shadows moving.

Both cats who’d always preferred lazing in sun rays suddenly preferred the dark corners of the living room over the sunny rays leaking in through the large bay window in the house. Demanding meow’s typically indicative of wanting attention, were used in dark corners of the house. Directed at something you couldn’t see. You’d be able to ignore the behavior, except every time you went looking for them when they called.

You’d find them happily purring, rubbing up against something that wasn't there in the darkness, as if already being given the attention they were asking for. It was creepy, weird, should have creeped you out. But you’d been raised to have a healthy fear and respect towards things you couldn't understand but were not outright malicious. So you tried not to let it bother you too much, don't question the way shadows seem to move. Or when the cats' purr and flop on their backs for tummy scratches in the dark corners of the house.

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The dreams had begun the first night at the house, an all-encompassing warmth that lazily spreads throughout your whole body. Contrasted by cold hands caressing your skin, a deep rich voice whispering dirty things in your ear and working you up to a feverish pitch.

“Pretty little mouse wandering into my house” the voice coos in your ear.

And then you’re awake, panting heavily, a groan spilling past your lips as you toss and turn a little in your bed.

“Fuck.” you whimper out, bringing your arm up over your face as you try and catch your breath.

You can’t remember exactly what you dreamt about, only the deep voice murmuring nothings in your ear and cold fingers playing with your folds. You let out an exasperated sigh squirming in bed frustration seeping into your bones. When was the last time you had a dream like that, you couldn't remember? When was the last time you’d been worked up like this, and from a dream no less? You let out a frustrated huff turning and burying your face in the pillow. You could have sworn you heard a deep chuckle ring out.

They get more detailed, more vivid the longer you're at the house you're almost used to waking up panting and sweaty. The feeling of cool silky tendrils exploring your body lingering for a bit before slinking off as you become more alert. Groggily whining at being awake after dreaming such filthy things. The feeling of your wetness soaking through your panties frustrating you. Always waking up right before the best part of the dream, so you throw the blankets off of yourself in a huff. Spreading your legs wide you trail your fingers over the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch.

It drives him wild.

Aizawa was on the edge of insanity when you showed up at the old house. A year of solitude will do that to you, he'd been beyond madness when the old lady bought the house all those years ago. Though she's brought him back with a soft kindness only a grandmother could offer.

You,

You brought a clarity to his mind in a different way. Every little curse, every time you scold the house when something disappears. Every time you touched yourself to thoughts of him, to the lingering feeling of his tendrils and hands on you. Aizawa was able to pull himself little by little out of the pit insanity and loneliness had pulled him into. You were so easy too, subconsciously letting the shadow creature infect every ounce of your being. He'd managed to seep into your dreams easily enough, a lonely pent up girl. He liked how you squirmed in your sleep.

Desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips as his cool fingers explore your body. It was addicting, the way your warmth spread through him with every touch, every explorative lick of your body lighting a fire deep in Aizawa's belly.

“Pretty little thing aren't you.” Aizawa coos in your ear, and you always react so beautifully to his voice. Your sleeping body responding with a soft whimper, he lets his tendrils explore every inch of you. Slipping underneath the silk PJ top and skimpy little shorts you always wore to bed. You were practically offering yourself up to him each and every night. How could he ever resist when your body reacted like this to his every touch. He’d started slowly at first, only manifesting his tendrils to creep along your body as you slept.

Once you’d been there for a few months he didn’t even have to worry about you waking up. Having invaded your dreams enough to be able to keep you in a nice deep sleep while he had his way with you. Settling himself between your legs fully manifested, never happier to have this solid form as when he's trailing large callus palms up to your soft legs. It’s so easy, really he can’t help himself, your wetness quickly soaking through your panties as cold fingers rub at your clit. Heady little moans spilling from your sleeping frame and it makes him giddy, trailing a large hand up and under your shirt. Pressing against the soft skin of your stomach and trailing up to gently squeeze at your breasts. Aizawa loves the way your body reacts to him, whimpering and arching against his touch. He shifts then, leaning over your sleeping body, caging your head between his hands, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

Can’t help himself as he trails open mouth kisses down your neck, tangling his fingers through your hair, you lean into his touch. A soft whimper of please slips through your lips and Aizawa can barely contain himself as his hips buck against your core.

“Begging for me in your sleep, sweet girl, already knows who she belongs to. Don’t you.”

You mewl, a soft pretty sound that Aizawa plays in his head over and over for days. Humping into your soaked panty-clad pussy desperately. His tendrils emerging from his back of their own accord, stroking and rubbing up against you as he mindlessly pleasures himself against your unconscious frame. Your little pants and moans edging him on until he's groaning against your neck, spilling himself onto your cute little silk PJ shorts. Aizawa lets himself bask in the feeling of your warmth against him littering your face in kisses.

“My good girl.”

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You conclude something is living in the house one night during an intense thunderstorm. Living in a house with some creature that may or may not try to eat you? Cool fine, no worries. But a thunderstorm? The loud unpredictable booms that tear through the air make you jump every single time without fail.

You flinch, once again roused by a loud clap of thunder and a harsh flash of lightning. An involuntary whimper slipping past your lips as you curl up into a ball on the bed doing your best to block out the noise of the raging storm.

You can feel it when a cool blanket envelopes you, a shift in the air that muffles all of the intense noise. The feeling of something carding its fingers through your hair comes next, ever so lightly scratching at your scalp. “It’s just a storm” A deep voice that seems to come from all around whispers and a strange comfort washes over you as your body begins to relax. You're half asleep, it's easy to lean into the gentle caress when you're not quite awake. Easy to ignore the feeling of tendrils creeping across your legs and stomach. You can't help but feel slightly comforted by them in your half-asleep state.

An exceptionally loud clap of thunder jolts you into a more awake state and you shoot up in bed. The hazy fog that was keeping you calm dispelling and you whimper as the comfort leaves you. “Please don't leave” you whisper aloud unsure to who or why you even spoke. A deep voice coos at you as thunderclaps outside again and you tremble. A yelp slips past your lips and your hands reach out towards the deep voice as if on instinct. Something safe that will soothe you if only you can reach out and touch it.

A chuckle thick like honey floats into your ears and your hands meet something soft. You're groggy, half asleep, and confident you're just imagining things, but that doesn't take away from the comfort. It feels like a million different arms wrap around you, pulling you in towards something solid and the hazy fog returns your body relaxing as the tendrils tighten almost uncomfortably around you. Wrapping you up in a cocoon that feels safe and secure, the thunderstorm outside fading into the background and all you can concentrate on is the deep voice mumbling nothings in your ear.

It's in the days after the storm when you can still hear his deep voice in your ears and feel his warm touch lingering on your body. That you remember the letter and box your grandmother had left you. You feel a little stupid for not thinking of reading them earlier, having been caught up in the whirlwind of moving you'd put them off to the side and almost forgotten entirely about them

To my lovely granddaughter,

If you’re reading this then it means you've agreed to the stipulations I included for ownership of the house. This place is special, and if you take care of the house its caretaker will return the favor. Be patient with him, it takes him a little while to warm up but he won't hurt you. I promise I haven't gone crazy with old age. Allow yourself to be open to the things in life we can’t explain. I hope the house is as good to you as it was to me in my old age.

It doesn’t explain much, but coming from a family that believed in the supernatural made it so that your grandmother's cryptic words didn't freak you out as much as they should have. They made you feel better actually, soothed the part of you that was nervous you might be going crazy. The small box held a pendant, a small but brilliant ruby ordaining the center of it delicate but practical enough for daily wear. You can't help but slip it on and admire the pretty jewel.

Aizawa is more active after that, the haze in his mind settles when he sees you wearing his necklace. You notice it too, the shadows in the house somehow softening, almost playful. He likes to move your things around so he can hear you huff in frustration. Every curse every time you yell at him, the fog in his mind clears.

He gets bolder around the house, slowly but surely, starts moving things around more obviously. Enjoys making you jump by slithering his tendrils across your ankles while you're cooking. Or shutting off the lights while you shower just to hear your cute little yelp. He likes that you’re somehow not scared of his presence but still easily spooked overall.

“That foundation was $50 and if it's not back in my makeup bag when I come back I swear to god I'll keep all the lights on for a week.” You see the shadow swirl in the corner of the bathroom, and you know it's smiling at you. You roll your eyes but the next morning your foundation is sitting right on the bathroom sink.

You begin to catch glimpses of it, of him. As if your attention is helping him manifest fully after a long time of being nothing but a wisp of smoke. Most obvious when your eyes scan the house and you can almost swear a man is petting one of your cats. Only to double back and see your cat rolling over against a dark corner of the room. You almost stop feeling uneasy, almost.

It all comes to head on a night where sleep seems unreachable. You were frustrated, panting, skin warm, and sticky with sweat as your fingers skillfully circled your clit but no relief came. You let out a frustrated ‘fuck’ throwing your head back onto the pillow and tossing a hand over your face. You’d been pent up for a while now, the weird lewd dreams working you up but never getting you anywhere. You do your best to relax into the bed, accepting defeat with a groan and hoping sleep overtakes you quickly.

The feeling of something wisping against your ankles brings you back from the edge of sleep. Cool ever so soft touches trail up your legs, you shiver at the cold sensation against your still warm and sweaty skin. Your eyes flutter open but you're only met with black, body tensing a little as cold tendrils stroke your face.

“You’re ok little one.” The voice is deep against your ear, a cold forked tongue licking up the side of your cheek. “I’ve got you” The same soothing voice you’d heard during the thunderstorm. Except for this time, it's laced with something other than softness. “I’ve been watching you, little human. Spreading yourself open shamelessly, playing with that pretty pussy out in the open. Pretending like you didn’t know I was here to watch.” Aizawa coos.

You whimper at the words, mist curling around you as a dark chuckle fills the room. “Tease” he snarls in your ear and you can’t help yourself as your hips buck up at the sound. Something solid forms between your legs, the soft smooth thing wraps around your ankles assisting in spreading your legs out wide. The deep voice tsks against your ear, cold skin and stubble rubbing against your cheek “You could at least pretend like you're not enjoying this.”

Your face flushes as he teases you, the sensation of his foreign appendages exploring your body exciting you in a way you can't quite place. They’re not hands that much you can tell, you can distinguish his hands by the callus texture as he strokes a thumb over one of your nipples. Tweaking at it gently until it perks against his fingers.

“Aren’t you scared little mouse” you can feel his tongue lapping at your neck, sharp teeth pricking the skin there and you let out a whimper. Managing only to shake your head, arching your chest up into his touch as he plays with you. “Desperate little human, willing to take just about anything if it means being satisfied.” You choke out a protest but can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of your mouth as Aizawa presses his thigh against your sex. He coos into your ear when you begin to hump him mindlessly.

“Such simple little creatures humans. Driven by desire, and willing to fuck just about anything aren't you little one?” You shake your head in protest, but the excitement pooling in your belly betrays you. Aizawa chuckles and pulls away from you a little, tendrils pooling from him and eagerly joining the fray. The limbs have a mind of their own, each appendage going about playing with you in different ways. One replaces his hands, squeezing and pinching at your breasts. Another brings your hands up and holds them above you keeping you still with minimal effort. A few others explore your body and Aizawa watches, as one of his appendages eagerly begins tugging aside your cute little PJ bottoms.

You whine out a “No” as the cold air hits your soaked entrance “That's not what your pretty little pussy is telling me.” Aizawa chuckles watching as the tendrils gather your juices up, gently circling your clit and parting your folds. “Look at you, soaked and ready for me aren't you.” His hand replaces the tendril and you feel cold fingers press into your heat. Your pussy clenches at the intrusion but you buck into him automatically. Already worked up from playing with yourself before, your body betrays you as your mind hazes and all you can think about is pleasure.

“P-Please” You choke out tugging against the restraints that only tighten when you struggle. Aizawa cocks an eyebrow up at you as he leans down, nuzzling at your inner thigh. Tongue lapping at the juices running down between your supple ass. He hums when you beg a smile tugging at his lips, his fog finally taking hold of you.

“What was that little mouse? Did you say something” He accentuates his words with another finger and you cry out as he finger fucks you. His tongue lazily licking at the edges of your pussy and then up to rub at your clit. You whine, hips bucking up and Aizawa sighs another tendril coming to wrap around your waist and pins you to the bed.

“Be still, or I'll leave you here.” You freeze at that babbling for him not to leave you and settle your hips. The appendage keeps you still squeezing you just a little too tight.

“That's a good girl.” Aizawa hums, turning his attention back to your core. “You look so pretty like this baby girl, spread out for me to do whatever I want. You just keep giving me those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good, okay?” You moan in response and Aizawa clicks his tongue, the tendril circling your stomach squeezing until it hurts. “Let me hear you say it.” Aizawa snarls.

You gasp as pain seeps into your pleasure “Yes, please I'll be good.” The pressure against your sides loosens and you're able to breathe again panting softly as the pain begins to fade. Aizawa doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up for a taste. He hums satisfied and then he's moving your body. Positioning you onto your stomach, cold hands lifting your ass as he positions you just how he wants. His tendrils keep your arms together in front of you, stripping you of your PJs and keeping your legs spread just enough to give Aizawa the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy. A smile, just a bit too wide spills over his lips as he settles himself between your legs. Aizawa is hard, painfully so but he takes his time sliding a hand over the curve of your asscheeks. Trailing down your back and up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before trailing back again.

With a hum, he lazily strokes your dripping folds, cooing as you press your ass back into him wiggling a little desperate for him to fill you. A harsh smack rings out as his palm connects with your ass “Patience little mouse.” He snarls leaning down to the opposite cheek and biting down just a little too hard. You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes and you bury your head into the pillow. Mind overcome by a lustful haze, you just want him to fuck you already.

Your wish comes soon enough when you feel something thick prodding at your entrance. You gasp as the tip of Aizawa’s cock penetrates you, gasp turns into a desperate moan as he presses into you little by little. He lets out a deep guttural moan of his own as your warmth encircles him, greedily squeezing his cock. Your warmth is addicting and it doesn’t take too long for Aizawa to start bucking into you. He sets a brutal pace, the appendages holding your waist upkeep you still, nice and steady for him to fuck into while his hands explore your body.

You curse desperate little moans and obscenities leaving your lips as he fucks into you. His cock stretches you to your limits, almost painful as the creature fucks into you desperately. There's a shift, and you feel his hands come up to your middle, pulling you up against his chest as he fucks you. You feel his face nuzzle against your cheek as one of his hands coming to rest against your belly as he fucks you. You hands are suddenly free and you reach up, feeling your fingers pass through a cool mist, before finding something solid. Soft wisps of something, that wrap around your fingers, rolling over them in waves as you entwine them into what you assume is his hair.

“Such a good girl, you take me so well darling. Letting me fuck into your womb like this.” Aizawa presses his hand against your stomach pushing back on himself as he becomes desperate.

“Wanna see” The words are a desperate whine and you don't even really register when you say them. Aizawa sputters a little pace wavering at your words. His fingers brush against the delicate necklace you wear his necklace, and for a second his mind clears. But you whimper a desperate sound that breaks whatever sliver clarity he'd found and a darkness takes over his features again. His fingers abandon the necklace and trail up to your neck fingers wrapping around it then squeezing.

“What was that you little slut.” He snarls in your ear and you can't help yourself as you cry out

“Please, wanna see you, wanna watch your cock fuck into me.” Your face flushes as you admit this out loud. A growl coming from the man, thing currently fucking your brains out and you can't do anything but tug at his hair and lean into him further as he uses you. Aizawa stills a little, and you whine desperately doing your best to bounce on his cock as he stops moving. Suddenly you can see again and he's fucking into you, go to say something but you see it, a black wispy tentacle like thing appears in front of your face. Aizawa’s hand that was wrapped snugly around your neck comes up to squeeze your cheeks and the appendage gives you a cheeky little wave before filling your mouth.

“Wanna watch yourself get stuffed, fine, we'll use all of your cute little holes. How does that sound little one.” You whine around the tentacle and then he’s picking up his pace. Hand squeezing your throat so he can feel it at his tendril fucks into your neck, you take him so well. This is it the broken part of his brain hisses she's the one. Aizawa shakes his head, the feeling of your fingers in his hair grounding him for a moment and presses your body back into the mattress.

His movements turn erratic as he fucks into your overwhelmingly tight little pussy. Pretty little moans spilling from you as he fucks you and his tentacles play with your clit and throat. You take him so well, respond so beautifully to his touch, you weren't scared and accepted your place quickly. He brings his fingers up to the little nub between your legs, replacing his tendrils and pressing fast little circles against your already abused clit. It doesn't take long after that, your body presses into the mattress, a tentacle fucking your throat, and some creature’s cock kissing at your cervix the thought alone is too much. But you spill over when Aizawa’s teeth sink into your neck, your body spasming as your orgasm bubbles over.

Aizawa grunts from above you, your body going limp as he bites into you fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own using your spent body for his own pleasure. He spills in you soon after, his mind just a little bit hazy. Ever so gently Aizawa pulls his tendril out of your mouth, drool, and his own slick trailing from your mouth as he does so. He coos as you whimper, pressing a hand over your ass to admire the way your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Humping into you a few more times before he pulls away completely. He debates for a moment letting himself disappear back into the shadows, but he hasn't been this real, this solid in so long.

Your whimpering slices through his thoughts and before he can stop you, you're on your back looking up at him. Instinct makes him retract all of his extra limbs, making himself look half normal minus the wisps of hair that always seem to move on their own. You blink up at him for a moment body sore but satisfied and you bring your arms up to him. Aizawa is unsure, body flickering into shadows but you speak up before he can fully dissipate.

“Stay with me” You manage to croak out, throat a little sore from the abuse you endured. You weren’t scared of him, if anything he was handsome and he'd fucked you till you were satisfied. You see the hint of hesitation in his eyes but you crinkle your nose and tilt your head cutely making grabby hands at him and he can’t help himself.

Aizawa lays down and you curl into him on instinct, his body now warm against yours. Your fingers find their way up to his hair, giggling as the locks lace themselves with your fingers. He brushes some of your hair back and you whine as he touches at your neck. Small bits of blood pooling where he’d sunk his teeth into you. His split tongue peaks out automatically, licking it up and gently lapping at the tender spot on your neck as you whimper.

“I get a little nuts when I'm on my own.” it's an apology, and you don’t think about why you feel safe in his arms, or why you don't question the creature laying with you, why you're not scared. Instead, you hum softly, nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as Aizawa lazily runs a steadily cooling hand down your back.

“It's ok, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear yourself say and he hums into your hair acknowledging your words. A twisted smile creeping its way onto his lips as his grip tightens around you. The part of Shouta that’s fallen too deep into insanity to come back fully snickers at your words.

As if you had a choice.

Tags:

@bbygirlpastel @thewheezingwyvern

#my hero academia #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa smut #Shouta Aizawa x reader smut #monster fucking #Aizawa x reader smut #kat writes

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artaefact · 4 years ago

Text

grinchly, yours.

—wordcount: 15k+

—genre: angst, fluff, bookshop owner!reader, florist!hoseok, bookshop au, christmas au, flower shop au, s2l au

—pairing: jung hoseok x f reader

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: awkward moments, a cemetery scene, mention loss of loved ones, a soft!hobi

—summary: Christmas time is around the corner, everyone is celebrating to their heart’s content, but not you. No, you despise Christmas and the joy it brings. That is, until a friendly florist decides to pay your bookstore a visit.

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write a character with the grinch’s personality and this story has been revolving around my head for some time !! happy reading everyone 💖

prompt: “carolling” for @btsholidaybingo event & “winter market date” for @kdiarynet winter hearts event !!

You nearly lose it when a snowflake lands on your face — specifically, your eye — for the third time now as you pad along the asphalt road. Releasing a breath, you calm yourself. This should be a regular occurrence for you. Still, you can’t help but scowl at the sight of fake candy canes and decorated fir trees near the streets and shops, and well, basically everywhere.

Once you near your bookshop, another annoyed sigh escapes your lips when you find a group of people singing right in front of the door again. Honestly, your patience is running thin as you have once told them to not sing in front of your bookstore.

Cursing under your breath, you try not to meet anyone’s eye and opt to quickly enter your shop. However, one of the members notices you and waves at you. You recognise him as Jimin — a local baker who likes to stop by your bookstore to look for recipe books.

After responding with a brief nod at him, you unlock your door and rush inside.

It’s not even Christmas yet, so why are these people singing Christmas carols early in the morning already? The sun has barely even risen up!

A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you can’t hear the choir anymore, at least muffled by the door of your bookstore. Moving towards the cashier table, you place your messenger bag underneath it before getting to work.

Carrying boxes of books back and forth from the supply room is the daily norm for you. You find comfort hidden between the shelves while you stack the newly-delivered books neatly into their allocated place. Many would say that it’s a lonely job, especially since you refuse to hire anyone to work in your store. But you don’t. You seldom feel that way.

The soft music from the jukebox is the only thing that keeps the bookshop from falling into complete silence as you work on reshelving and rearranging the books. That is until the bell on top of the front door rings.

“Welcome!” You place the books on the wooden floor, standing up only to see Jimin peering on the aisle you’re in, smiling ear-to-ear.

Sighing internally, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

You sit back down on the wooden floor and continue to shelf the books. “Didn’t you do that before?”

“You didn’t say a word.” He moves closer and plops down beside you.

You merely shake your head, still focusing on your task. “How many times do I have to tell you not to let those choir people sing in front of my store?”

“Right,” Jimin answers sheepishly. “You see, we are still scouting for another area and—”

“Well then, find it quicker. Why don’t they just sing in front of your bakery?”

“It’s not exactly an ideal spot for singing…”

“And the front of my store is?”

“There’s not much public transport station here—”

You huff in annoyance. “If you don’t have anything else to do besides making excuses, I would appreciate it if you leave. As you can see—” Lifting one of the books in emphasis, “—my hands are full.”

Despite your cold words, Jimin dismisses it quickly. “Well, I’m looking for a book about plants.”

“Botany?” Your brows furrow. “Did baking go wrong?”

He snorts. “As if, but my friend is looking for one. He asked me if I could get one for him.”

“Is there a particular book he’s searching for?”

Jimin hands you a piece of paper.

“Oh, I have to place an order for this one,” you utter. “I’ll send you a text when it has arrived.”

Nodding, Jimin finally stands up and is ready to leave when you call him.

“Oh, and Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, take your fellow choir crew somewhere else to sing.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

The box lands on the cashier desk with a thump before you send a message to Jimin, a week later.

[ 2:05 PM ] You: your friend’s book is here

Placing your phone on the table, you peel off the wrapping tape and open the box. The printed white letters of Guide to Gardening contrast against the pine green background of the hardcover as tiny drawn flowers scatter across the edge of the cover.

You read the synopsis curiously, wondering how someone can find garden-work interesting when your phone dings — a text notification from Jimin lights up your phone screen.

[ 2:09 PM ] Jimin: Oh! I’ll tell my friend to pick up the book himself. He should be able to swing by today.

Not bothering to reply to him, you put away the book for safekeeping — leaving Jimin on read, as usual, and get back to check your supplies, making sure everything’s in stock.

An hour or two have passed until someone enters your bookstore. “Excuse me?”

Looking up from the papers, a new customer staring at you. “May I help you?” You ask, standing up from your seat.

“I ordered a book. And my friend, Jimin, told me it has arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble through your paper-covered desk, reaching for the book. “Are you—” You check the name it was ordered under. “—Hoseok?”

He nods, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Here you go.” Handing the book to him. “Is this what you were looking for?”

The subtle smile on his face turns into a bright grin as soon as he reads the title. “It is.”

“Great,” you nod. “Do you still want to take a look around, or would that be all?”

Hoseok’s gaze lingers on you, a bit too long for your liking, but he shakes his head regardless. “This would be all for now.”

“That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”

While you print the receipt, he asks, “Are you a friend of Jimin’s?”

“Acquaintance,” you correct him, handing his receipt.

“I see. May I know your name at least?” He extends his hand.

Blinking at his question, your hand moves before you can think twice about taking his hand in yours. Ignoring the way your hand fits so well in his, you introduce yourself, “Y/N.”

And a bright, bright grin appears on his face, one that you swear can light up the whole bookshop. “Hope we’ll see each other again soon, Y/N. Just recently opened up my shop near the corner of the street.” Then he makes his way out of the store, steps faltering slightly before the entrance, giving the bookstore a once-over and walks out.

The next time you meet Hoseok is when he visits your store in passing. “Hey, Y/N!” He greets you as you place a stack of books on the cashier table from the delivery box earlier.

“Hi, Hoseok...” You do not know what to make of his cheerful demeanour.

“How’s your day?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. Is he seriously asking that for no apparent reason?

“Fine, I guess,” you answer nonetheless as you rub your palms against your jeans. “Just had to clear out the storage and rearrange some shelves.”

“Do you need any help?”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh! I’m looking for a book about orchids,” Hoseok explains. “It’s so hard to grow them.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll check the supplies,” you mumble, moving and clicking your mouse to find what he is searching for. Hoseok moves to a nearby aisle, looking through random books while you move to the allocated aisle of the book he wants.

Hoseok is confused for a moment as his attention is set on the little post-its on the shelf. As he takes a closer look, he realises that these are your reviews of the books. He can’t help but chuckle at how enthusiastic your reviews sound.

It’s amusing how you are interested in The Grinch.

Plucking one of the books, he makes his way to you. You are so focused on the books as he stands beside you, then he pokes your shoulder and you jolt. “Oh my—”

Hoseok apologises sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You clear your throat. “It’s fine. I tend to tune out my surroundings when I’m focused. And, uh, here—” You hold out the book to him. “—is this it?”

Hoseok nods, smiling as he takes the book and follows behind you to the cashier. As you type in the order, he asks, “Do you like this book?” Your movements falter at his sudden question, which he notices. “I saw some stickers you posted beneath the books that seem to be your favourites.”

Cheeks growing warm at his words, you stammer, “Well, I thought it would encourage people to buy and—”

He places one of the books that you recommended on top of the book he was looking for. “I’ll get this one too.”

“But… It’s a children’s book.” You gape.

“I’m not big on reading heavy novels, Y/N. So, I think this is a good start,” he shrugs. “Plus, you recommended five stars for this and your review—”

“Okay!” You cut him off, grasping the book. “I-I get what you mean, but are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Am I not here as your customer?”

Sighing mentally, you proceed to scan the barcode. “That will be forty-seven dollars.”

Meetings with him are refreshing, as it is odd. Hoseok would come by your bookstore once in a while — once a week or even twice. At first, you thought something was up. Definitely, since he didn’t purchase books on every visit. But what throws you off is that he would come by to drop desserts or even just a quick ‘hi’ when he is busy that day.

You’re sceptical indeed. Was there a bet being made to befriend you? But he wouldn’t have treated you to those sugar-coated doughnuts or hot chocolate if he wants money.

Deep in your own thoughts, you walk along the usual route to your store; hands tucked inside your thick coat, even ignoring the snow that’s covered your beanie.

You’re not used to this; someone just straight-up approaching you, or just enjoying being in your presence with no obligation to do so. Haven’t he heard of the rumours that surround you? In a small town where you live, he must have heard something.

Thoughts drifting back to reality, your eyes twitch as you find those carolling people in front of your store again. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an annoyed sigh.

How many times should you tell them to scram? And where is Park Jimin?

You scan through the faces of the group, and he was nowhere to be found. Muttering a curse under your breath while ignoring the slight aching in your chest, you stomp towards them.

“Hello,” You plaster on a big fake smile, ceasing their singing at once. “I thought I had told one of your crew — Jimin — that you can’t sing in front of my store. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s not joining us today,” one of the choir members answers, nonchalantly. “We didn’t know that this is a private area. I thought you only own your part of the store.”

The other choir members glance nervously at each other; their reaction an obvious contrast with this chipper, unheeding chatterbox in front of you. Gritting your teeth, you force down the curse words that are on the tip of your tongue back before clearing your throat. “Well, now, you know.” You pin down that girl who opens her loose mouth with your sharp stare. “So, I would appreciate it if you’d leave and never sing in front of my store again.”

She is about to respond when her crewmembers stop her from saying anything further, which is fortunate for her. In minutes, they pack up and finally leave.

Rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to put a sign in front of your store that says no choirs allowed, or any Christmas activities at all. After changing the ‘close’ sign to ‘open’, you place your things on the cashier table. Looking at the old jukebox fondly, you trace the intricate, beautiful designs for a little while before you turn it on. Soft jazz music fills the air instantly, and your heart warms up at that.

Deciding to have a little reading time, you pick a book from your favourite section. However, you falter momentarily when you realise it’s the same book Hoseok bought last week from your post-it recommendation. Sighing, you place the book back and pick another.

Time flies so quickly when you immerse yourself in books. By the time you check your phone, it’s afternoon already. And then the quiet atmosphere shatters when the bell of your bookstore rings.

“Y/N!” His familiar cheerful voice startles you.

“Hoseok…” You’re back again.

“I’m grabbing a bite in Jimin’s bakery, would you like to join?”

“No, I’m—” Your stomach growls loudly as if on cue.

Hoseok laughs at that, “Your stomach says otherwise. C’mon! You shouldn’t stay cooped up in your shop the whole day.”

And you can’t bring yourself to reject his offer again.

“How long have you been running your bookstore?” Hoseok asks as you both make your way towards Jimin’s bakery.

“It’s been... Five years,” you answer hesitantly.

“Oh, that’s quite long! Have you always been interested in books?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ve loved reading since I was a child.”

You didn’t realise how much you had enjoyed conversing with Hoseok until you reached Jimin’s bakery.

That was quick, you thought, at the sight of the pastel pink store.

Stepping into the bakery, Hoseok calls out, “Kookie!”

“Hyung?” The familiar man called ‘Kookie’ greets him after serving a customer with their order.

You wreck your head for his name — you know this guy. Well, have seen him with Jimin most of the time but you didn’t bother to know his name. Or actually, you did, but you forgot.

The only ones you can come up with are “John Cook’ or ‘Jungkook’. It has to be either one of those or else you’d embarrass yourself further.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s nice for you to come by!”

Screw it.

“Nice to see you too, John.”

Kookie lets out a giggle. “You can call me ‘Jungkook’ instead of my last name.”

Then it clicks. Right— it’s Jeon Jungkook. Thank the heavens ‘John’, and ‘Jeon’ sounds similar.

You feign indifference. “Alright, Jungkook.”

“Jimin is out with his girlfriend for hot chocolate, he’ll be back soon.”

As soon as you and Hoseok take a seat, Jungkook hands you both the menu before dealing with other customers.

“So... Are you sure you’re new here?” You break the silence. “Looks to me that you seem to know everyone here already.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “Not everyone. But Jimin, Jungkook, and I go way back.”

“Ah, I see...” Then you cast your stare to the menu once more. But your attention shifts to the glass door to see Jimin and his girlfriend laughing. Not long after you catch his gaze, however, the warmth dissipates almost instantly. He stalks towards your table at once.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin seethes, eyes boring into yours as you match them equally with your icy ones.

“Ah, Jimin,” Hoseok turns to look at him. “I was grabbing something to eat, and I invited Y/N along and—”

“Y/N is not welcome here,” Jimin seethes.

Hoseok’s eyes widen before it gradually hardens at your defence. “Since when?”

But Jimin’s eyes are on you once more. “Why did you drive the choir crew away again? What did they do to you? They managed to sing a few blocks away from your store!”

“That is bullshit.” You stand up and level his gaze. “They sang in front of my store again, still disturbing the peace in my shop. And I told you to take your choir crew somewhere far to sing.”

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what they—”

“Believe whoever you want,” you cut him off, mood darkening. “And since I am not welcome here, I’ll see myself out.” Without another word, you head out of the bakery. Clutching your coat tighter to your frame, the sound of your boots thumps along the cobblestone until another pair of rapid footsteps follow behind you.

“Y/N!” Hoseok calls out, grabbing your arm. “Hey… I—” He catches his breath. “I’m sorry, Jimin is an asshole to you—”

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I—”

“Hoseok.” You turn to him. “Why do you even bother to befriend me?”

His eyes widened at that before he splutters, “B-Because, why not?”

Taking a step closer to him, you consider asking him if there is a bet going on, but decide against it. “I’ll be fine. You go back to Jimin.”

Without another glance, you turn away once more, leaving him in the midst of the cold weather.

Autumn flies away too quickly, you bitterly thought. You find yourself missing the warm colours of the town, where the crunching sound of fallen leaves will always fill the silence when you go to work or go back home. Or, spring sounds good to you too — bright, vivid flowers loitering around as the warm sun kisses your skin.

Not this whole white fiasco. Your mood always dampens when you walk out of the house, only to find the usual bright morning still dark as it takes later for the sun to rise up.

‘Achoo—!’ You let out a sneeze, wrapping the thick blanket around your form tighter. The heater of the store is cranked up to the fullest, yet the winter cold still manages to get you.

Letting out an annoyed ‘tsk’, you continuously flip through the accounting records of your store, eyes scanning the numbers to make sure no mistakes are made. Unable to focus further, you sigh.

Maybe you should do other things before getting back to these numbers.

You let out another sneeze as you trudge to the storage room, huffing in annoyance while you sniffle. Taking out an opened empty box from the shelves, you pack children books into it when your doorbell rings.

“Please wait a moment!” You quickly shove the box to an empty corner before rushing out.

“Umm,” Hoseok stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Hi…” He takes a few steps closer. “I’m sorry about yesterday—”

Posture stiffening, you cut him off, “It’s not your fault, nor it was Jimin’s fault. It was my own mistake.”

He tries to argue. “No, it’s—”

“Hoseok, it’s alright.” You reassure him, plastering on a tight smile. “Really.”

“Ah, that’s… Well, these are for you.” He extends a bouquet of orchids.

You stare at him. “W-Why…?”

“I thought it would brighten up your bookstore,” he rambles. “Uh, unless you don’t want it? It’s really fine—”

You take the bouquet from his hold, your smile turning genuine on your lips. “Thank you.”

He grins at that. “Well, I’ve got to go back to the shop. Maybe we can go out for coffee or even lunch whenever you’re free?”

When you nod in response, Hoseok’s expression lights up further. With your numbers exchanged, he waves you goodbye and exits your store. It’s quiet once again, and you merely stand there, still staring at the bright purple hues of the orchids.

Perhaps, it’s still ol’ winter outside, but it feels as though spring blooms within the walls of your bookshop now.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

Hoseok is in a good mood; he whistles some random pop songs as he makes his way back to his shop. “I’m back!” he chirps, scrubbing his snow-covered boots against the ‘welcome’ rug.

“I was beginning to think you have lost your way,” Jungkook comments, eyes focusing at the bouquet in front of him, wrapping it up. “The next customer won’t be here until three and, wait—” He looks around frantically at the scattered flowers on the counter. “Hyung! Where are the orchids?!”

“Huh?” Hoseok feigns innocence. “I thought we had them. You’ve cut their stems right?”

“Yes, but—”

It’s kinda funny to see the usual composed Jungkook, now, panicking. Little did he know, Hoseok had taken the last of the orchids to make a bouquet for you.

“Hyung! We need orchids! The colours don’t match! And—”

Hoseok snorts. “Use the hydrangeas. They fit with whatever bouquet you’re wrapping.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It’s not going to be the same as how I pictured it, Hyung. It has a different meaning too!” However, Hoseok has gone into the changing room to change into his usual working attire. From outside, Jungkook grumbles to himself, “I don’t deserve this treatment. I helped Jimin, and now Hobi hyung too. And for what exactly?”

“So, you won’t stay cooped up in your room until New Years.” Hoseok comments, tying his apron then rolling the sleeve of his shirt till it reaches just before his elbows.

“Okay, but ‘fess up, Hyung—” Jungkook still looks unamused. “What did you do to the orchids? I know you’ve worked hard growing them so you won’t give away those flowers easily.”

“Huh,” Hoseok feigns innocence, grabbing a set of flowers to wrap. “Really? Maybe I did give it away to someone pretty, who knows.” Beautiful, in fact.

“Who?” Then Jungkook’s face turns dumbfounded as he seems to realise something. “Wait, don’t tell me it’s Y/N.”

“Why not Y/N?” Hoseok raises a brow, sparing the younger one a questioning glance.

Jungkook groans. “No, hyung, don’t you know she’s like… Unapproachable? Like even Jimin’s charm does not affect her at all. In fact, she made him angry the other day!

Hoseok mindlessly nods at Jungkook’s rambles. “Yeah, yeah…”

It goes quiet for a moment before Jungkook asks, “So… Did she throw away the flowers at once and kick you out of—”

The image of your bright eyes and soft smile engraves itself into his mind as he works on the bouquet at hand.

“No.” A smile appears on Hoseok’s face. “She loves it actually.” All that time he spent and the hard work of growing those orchids really does pay off.

“What did you say to her? I don’t think she’s the type to accept an apology gift that easily.” Jungkook tilts his head slightly, still questioning.

True. At first, he wanted to give it as an apology gift. However, at your insistence that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own, he thought of another reason — to brighten up your cozy bookshop with the vibrant colours of the orchids.

“Well, I thought of other reasons,” Hoseok answers vaguely, finishing the arrangement. And boy, did his heart soar when you accepted his gift afterwards.

“It’s so hard to believe…” Jungkook mumbles, focusing on his own task at hand.

Hoseok sighs. “She’s not what you guys seem to paint her to be. At least, not with me. Does anyone even try to approach her in the first place?”

Jungkook nods. “Jimin hyung did. You know how he is.” Silence falls for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I think she’s always grumpy when it’s Christmas season.”

“Why?”

Jungkook answers with a mere shrug. “No one knows. We just avoid her during Christmas.”

With furrowed brows, Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval of how people treated you. There must be a reason why you are acting this way. You weren’t a complete grouch with him, and your smile earlier proves that. If it takes hundreds of orchids to make you smile like that again — even when others say you are a grouch and your presence is unpleasant — he would gladly grow them all over again.

Sipping the gingerbread latte, you let out a satisfied hum at the burst of sweet taste on your tongue from the warm beverage. Definitely perfect for cold weather as you sit near the window, mindlessly staring out at the falling snow and the buzzing people beneath.

Hoseok has agreed to meet in the cafe. You are too stubborn to admit that you actually enjoyed his company these past few weeks. But, as soon as he texted you to meet in this cafe, you barely thought twice before agreeing.

Speaking of the devil, he sits across from you with a grin on his face. You snap out of your thoughts when your gaze zeroes in on the bouquet in front of you.

Irises.

“It’s for you.”

Blinking with furrowed brows, your voice comes out unsure. “For me…? But why?”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle, “I just think it suits you. Like those orchids.”

At his words, your heart beats faster. “I… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, gaze dropping to the bright yellow flowers, arranged prettily and pleasing to the eye. “But… Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Do you know what irises mean?”

You shake your head, taking the bouquet reluctantly.

“Hope and friendship,” Hoseok beams then raises his own steaming cup of coffee to you. “So, here’s to our friendship!”

Chuckling lightly, you lift your own cup.

“Right, I read the book,” Hoseok starts, earning a raised brow from you. “It’s a whole lot to digest even when it’s merely a children’s book. What makes you like it so much?”

You shrug, eyes averting from his briefly. “I just admire how the Grinch put so much effort to ‘steal’—” You quote with your fingers. “—Christmas. I mean he’s an entertaining character to read about.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “What makes him so?”

“He sticks to his plans and goes through with it. I admire his perseverance despite the hardships he has been through. And I feel the same way about Christmas as he does.”

“Do you not like Christmas?”

“Nope. Don’t like this season at all.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s…” Your eyes are downcast, gaze on your steaming cup of coffee. “It’s a bit overrated, in my personal opinion. This season seems to force people to be happy.”

“Huh…” Hoseok sips his coffee. “I never really thought about it in that way. But I can understand. Is there anything else that makes the book so special?” Curiosity swimming in his eyes. “You mentioned in your review that it’s comforting, but how so?”

Just how on earth can this man be so observant?

You purse your lips, pondering. “Well, it’s comforting to see how the Grinch manages to have a change of—” You falter before shaking your head. “He’s just a great character.”

Hoseok nods, agreeing with you.

Then you change the subject, asking him how he got into gardening and decided to open his flower shop. Conversation flows so easily between the two of you that time flies so quickly.

When you step out of the cafe building with Hoseok, you couldn’t stop smiling as you hold on to the bouquet he gifted in hand. You walk back together, just enjoying each other’s presence. That is until you come across the carolling choir who takes notice of you, or actually, of Hoseok.

“Hobi!” One of them calls out, breaking from the group. Her puppy-like excitement exudes out of her in waves as she draws closer. And then you recognise her as the chipper chatterbox whom you never bother to learn the name of.

Hoseok greets her, “It’s good to see you.”

Then she glances at you, more specifically the bouquet of irises in your hands. “You both went on a date?”

You snort, earning a surprised glance from Hoseok and the girl. “We just got coffee, and Hoseok is nice enough to bring me these lovely flowers as a gift. But, I don’t think it’s any of your business, right?” Lifting a brow, you spare her a questioning stare — recognising that familiar face — as she fails to come up with an answer. “And shouldn’t you get back to your singing activities spreading the Christmas spirit in this public area?” Sarcasm dripping your tone.

Her gaze narrows at you as a flash of recognition crosses her. “Aren’t you the one who sent us away from our first location?”

You nod blatantly. “You were singing in front of my shop. You were disturbing.”

“That was so rude—”

“I did warn you and your group before,” You quip. “Or would you rather I call the police next time?”

Hoseok gapes at your exchange with Chatterbox seemingly at a loss. Lucky for you — well, Chatterbox actually — the tense conversation ceases as another choir member approaches you, this time a lovely-looking elder lady. “Oh, Y/N!”

You blink, expecting her to recognise Hoseok instead since the boy is a social butterfly and probably know half of the townspeople already. “Y-You know me?” Her delicate features are somewhat familiar.

“Well, of course, I do! I volunteer in the or—”

And it clicks. “Oh!” You cut her off loudly. “Oh, nice to meet you!” Hoping the pleading look you send her can stop her from blurting other things besides pleasantries. Fortunately, she gets the message as she smiles knowingly at you before glancing at Hoseok who is utterly quiet as Chatterbox talks his ear off while he mindlessly nods.

“I should get back to my store,” you explain.

The lady smiles warmly, reducing her voice to a whisper, “Hope you come to visit us again this year.”

“I won’t miss it,” you reply with a smile of your own.

Her eyes light up at that. “And Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Have a good day, Miriam.”

And when you finally turn your attention to Hoseok, he’s already looking at you mouthing, You want to go?

You give him a brief nod. He smiles, bidding Chatterbox goodbye. But what nearly sends your heart into overdrive is that he strides to you and grabs your hand as if it’s the only natural thing to do.

“Slow down!” You huff as Hoseok turns briefly to give you a cheeky smile.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he teases, steps slowing down. Your hand goes limp, but instead of letting go of your hand, Hoseok interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there myself,” Hoseok comments. “I thought my ears were going to fall off.”

Letting out a chuckle, you tease, “I thought you were enjoying her company.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “She was mean to you. I don’t like that.”

At his words, you stumble on your steps. If it isn’t for his fast reflexes, you would be face-planting to the ground. “Ah, t-thank you.”

He chuckles, “No problem.”

And you curse your own heart for beating faster at his smile.

“She’s not bad, Jimin.”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin huffs, wiping the table aggressively. “Until she decides to piss you off all the time.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Don’t even get me started.” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance. “She literally said to take the choir crew away from her store, and Ellie—”

“Ellie…?” Confusion is written all over Hoseok’s face.

“The girl who likes you,” Jimin sighs.

“Who???”

Jimin makes a face. “For someone who flirts easily, you’re awfully dense to someone else’s feelings.”

Hoseok lets out an unamused snort. “I don’t flirt—”

“You gave Y/N flowers,” Jimin gives him a pointed look.

“How did—” Hoseok comes to a realisation. “—right, Jungkook.” he mumbles before he explains, “It was supposed to be an apology gift—”

“And then yesterday you empty your supply of iris flowers too to give her for no apparent reason—”

“The kid should really learn to shut his mouth.” Hoseok groans, his cheek heating in embarrassment.

“—if that isn’t called flirting—”

“Jimin, you flirt with everyone too.”

“That’s different, hyung. I charm people.”

Hoseok sighs. “We’re going off track here.”

“Okay, so I had told the choir members to sing a few blocks away from her store. But, she drove them away again!” Jimin slaps the table with the cloth.

Hoseok scrunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean a few blocks away? Y/N said she found them in front of the bookstore again.”

“That’s not what Ellie told me.”

“I still don’t know who Ellie is, but I think there’s a whole misunderstanding here.”

“No, hyung. There is no clear proof—”

“Did you ask the other choir members?” Hoseok asks before sighing. “I mean, shouldn’t there at least be a few other witnesses that can confirm where exactly they were singing?”

“The entire choir said so.”

“Did they actually tell you that? Or did only Ellie tell you that and you assumed it was the whole choir crew’s answer?”

Jimin purses his lips.

“Y/N is not the type to lie, Jimin. It’s not fair to her if you only consider one person’s point of view. And I saw how unhappy Y/N was that day. Don’t you think you should’ve confirmed it with other people first before jumping to conclusions?” Hoseok lets out another disgruntled sigh.

Jimin goes silent, seemingly pondering at Hoseok’s words.

“And I invited her here—” Hoseok points at the ground, indicating the bakery. “—that afternoon, since she likes your sugar doughnuts. And other things you bake. Thought it might cheer her up, but look how it went.” He raises his arms in exasperation.

“She tried it? She never even stepped into the bakery until she came along that time with you!”

“Well…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

“___, I’ll take more of these home today!” Hoseok lifts up his hand that’s holding the powdered doughnut.

Jimin’s girlfriend nods. “Anything else?”

“Oh! Your caramel cookies too, please.”

She nods again. “Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Hoseok steps out of the bakery with a paper bag in hand. His nose is buried in his scarlet scarf, and he hums a soft tune while padding through the snow-covered sidewalk. As he gets closer to your dimly-lighted bookstore, his glove-covered hands start to grow clammy while his heart beats a tad faster.

“Y/N~” He calls out after the bell of the doorstep rings.

You scramble up to your feet from your slouching position behind the cashier register, wide-eyed. “H-Hoseok? What are you—” Your words falter when he lifts up the paper bag in his hold, grinning at your confused state.

“I brought some sweets.” He stops right in front of you, placing down the bag before opening it. “So… I got some powdered doughnuts…” He takes it out. “I hope you like them.”

“Well, yes. But—”

He puts the paper-wrapped doughnut on your hand. “Go ahead, try it.”

“I…”

“Or do you want me to feed you?” Hoseok teases, raising up the other doughnut towards your mouth. “Then here, ah—”

You take a step back, avoiding his reach before taking a bite out of your doughnut. He laughs at your pout while you chew, patiently waiting until you swallow it. “So...?”

Nodding slowly, you observe the bitten doughnut for a few moments then snap your gaze at him. “Thank you. This is really good.” You take another bite of the doughnut, fighting back the instinct to smile.

“Great! Now, try the caramel cookies!”

“Wait, but I—”

Hoseok plucks the doughnut from your hold, replacing it with a caramel cookie and urges you to try it and you comply.

“Where did you get this?” Eyes full of wonder as you stare at the cookie.

“Jimin’s bakery.”

“What? No way.”

Hoseok tilts his head in curiosity. “You’ve never tried his baked goods before? Even after months the bakery has opened?”

You shake your head. “Never had the chance. I assumed it’s nothing special. But now…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“She said what?” Jimin gapes, not sure if he heard what Hoseok said was right.

Hoseok repeats, “She likes your sugar doughnuts and caramel cookies. She said they were ‘excellent delicacies’ when she tried them.” More precisely, you said, I suppose despite his absurd personality, he still makes excellent delicacies. But Hoseok knows better than to say that.

Jimin is downright speechless at your compliment.

“Anyways,” Hoseok clears his throat. “As I was saying, I frequently visit her, and on that day she wasn’t happy at all, Jimin. So, I didn’t visit her that morning to let her cool off and visit her during the afternoon.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

Hoseok gazes up from his phone when the streetlight turns green. Shoving the device into his coat’s pocket, he crosses the street. From the corner of his eye, your bookstore comes to his view, and a smile appears on his face. As he draws nearer, his steps grow lighter. That is until he peeks in from the window and notices a deep frown on your face. He falters, weighing his own thoughts on whether or not to approach you at this moment. And he decides against it and plans to visit you in the afternoon instead to let you cool off from, perhaps, an argument.

And off he goes, still passing by your store; still purposefully slowing down his steps to see you through the stained glass window for longer, to see if you’re okay. He’s surprised at the sight of you tracing your jukebox slowly, gazing at it fondly. It must have meant so much to you, he assumes. Smiling softly, Hoseok continues down the pathway to his flower shop.

It’s nearly midday when a familiar face from Jimin’s choir group visits him. She waves at him. “Hobi!”

“Welc—”

“So, glad to see you again!” The girl squeals as she reaches him at the counter.

“Hi…”

“How are you?”

“Good and uh, shouldn’t you be singing with your choir members?”

Her face falls slightly at his question before she scoffs, “It’s cancelled because someone was so rude. She just told us to scram. Like who does that? We’re spreading the Christmas spirit! Everyone should be happy, especially at this time of year!”

And Hoseok instantly has an inkling of who this someone is. “I don’t think we have the right to judge someone. Everyone has their own problems, after all.”

She seems genuinely shocked by Hoseok’s words. But Hoseok didn’t bother waiting for her response as he said, “If you aren’t planning to buy anything, I would appreciate it if you leave. There are other customers here. And I would listen to Y/N if I were you.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“I’m sorry.”

You raise a brow at the unexpected guest who is standing right in front of you, eyeing him briefly before shifting your attention to the man beside him.

“What are you both doing here?” You ask. “More specifically, what are you doing here?” Your gaze snaps back to Jimin, who is huffing in annoyance with his arms crossed against his chest — looking like he was just scolded by, you presume, the grinning man beside him. So you ask, “Hoseok, what is this?”

“I talked some sense into him,” he replies, elbowing Jimin not-so-subtly.

“I am here to apologise, Y/N. For the way I reacted in the bakery—”

Your stare narrows. “I thought we’re past that. And I told you it was my fault.”

“Would you please let me finish?” Jimin asks in a surprisingly polite manner. You assume he’s trying his best not to get frustrated further with you since, well, you always have that irritating presence during this time of the year and have the knack to run his patience thin. “I also want to apologise for assuming the worst of you.”

Now that catches you off-guard. Your silence spurs him on.

“I contacted the choir members and told them to not sing in front of your store. And I told them to sing at least a few blocks away. I should have confirmed their location with you instead of blindly trusting the people I barely interact with outside of choir activities—”

Not like we interact much either, you thought but hold back your tongue.

“—and it was my mistake for doing that. I only recently found out that they were really in front of your store—” He glances Hoseok, unamused. “—Hyung had contacted the choir people and had them confirm that they were singing in front of your store. Which is why—”

The sudden burst of your door opening startles the three of you.

“You brought her here?” Your expression clearly shows disdain at the sight of Chatterbox strutting in like she owns the place. And you wish nothing but to kick her out at this moment because she’s like an impending doom that’s about to befall your bookstore.

“No, we didn’t—” Hoseok looks flustered.

“I’m here to spread the Christmas spirit to Y/N!” Chatterbox claims with a few drinks in her hand. “Since she seems to hate our singing so much, I thought a few drinks will ease her up for Christmas!”

“Did she follow us?” Hoseok hisses to Jimin who looks just as flustered.

“I thought she should apologise to Y/N too.”

“Clearly, she has the wrong idea about this meeting,” Hoseok groans. However, just before Jimin can respond, a crash cuts him off.

It feels as if time is slowing down and your heart drops when she trips over one of the antique rugs and spills on…

“No!” You lurch forward — figure blocked by the counter you’re standing behind — towards the jukebox that’s drenched in eggnog, regarding it with widened eyes and trembling hands in the air.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Chatterbox whispers, standing up straight on her feet. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You clench your fists as you snap your head towards her, eyes blazing. “Get out.”

“But the drinks—”

“I said, get out!” Rarely do you ever raise your voice, but you are already trembling in anger as no one made a single move. You grab Chatterbox, pulling her along with such strength that she struggled against your iron-like grip.

“I said I was sorry!”

“Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it!” You seethe, shoving her out like a ragdoll. Jimin approaches you carefully and tries to appease you, but you shake your head. “Now, this is your fault.”

Hoseok looks downright devastated as he watches you. “Y/N…”

“Get out, leave me alone.”

There are no other words but warmth and pure joy that can describe the sight of children excitedly rushing towards you; they are all giggling and squealing.

“Uh, please don’t block the way,” you huff. Stopping momentarily, you lift a knee to support your hold on the heavy box briefly to prevent it from slipping down.

“Y/N,” Miriam greets you with a warm smile on her face. “So glad that you can make it.”

“Of course,” you reply, crouching to place the heavy box on the wooden floor of the living room. Taking off your gloves, you ask, “Where’s Helen?”

“She’s staying with her grandson for a couple of days; said something about a family Christmas reunion.”

“Ah…” You tear open the duct tape and take out the children’s books you packed a few weeks ago. “Well, then—”

“Y/N! Are you going to read us a Christmas story this time?” One of the children — Amy — asks with a big smile on her face.

“I shouldn’t… Maybe Helen can read to you once she’s back—” Words die on your throat at the expectant — hopeful — gazes of the children that have gathered in the warm living room. “Okay… Maybe one book won’t hurt—”

The children squeal happily.

“—so, you guys pick whichever book you want, and I’ll read it to you.” Then they rush to the opened cardboard box. You make yourself comfortable against the velvet cushions that’s spread on the rug-covered floor. While the children are busy discussing which book would be their pick, you fish out your phone from the pocket of your discarded coat only to realise that Helen had sent you a message that she won’t be in the orphanage tonight.

After replying to her with some reassurance — that you’d take over the story-telling position just for today — your fingers hover over Hoseok’s unread messages from yesterday night. Well, since the day you told him to get out of your bookstore in your fit of rage.

Hoseok constantly messaged you about many things — asking how you are doing, if you want to go out to get some coffee, or even just ramble about his day. You read all of them through the notifications from your phone — the ones that are not cut off by the message bubble — and your heart aches just a little more.

“This one!” Amy runs up to you, handing the book before taking the spot right next to you.

When you read the title, you falter. “Wait, are the others okay with this or are there any books you’d like me to read?” You look around at the children who are already in their respective seats surrounding you in a half-circle; they nod eagerly.

Letting out a sigh, you purse your lips for a brief moment. “Alright then—” You lift the book up; front cover facing the children. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas…”

Then you flip the book open and begin reading the story…

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

By the time you have finished reading the book, it’s nearly midnight; most of the children have fallen asleep with a content smile on their faces. You make it your mission to help Miriam tuck them into their beds since Helen is not here tonight.

“I really appreciate what you did today, Y/N.” Miriam follows you out of the building, stopping on the doorway.

“It’s not a problem, really.” You put on your gloves.

“But I really appreciate it, Y/N. And you know you will always be welcomed here.” Miriam reminds you.

You let out a sheepish chuckle. “Thanks, Miriam. Maybe I’ll come back and help around.”

She pulls you in for a hug. “The children love you. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled whenever you decide to come visit.”

After exchanging a few more words, you leave the orphanage and walk into the winter night. Gradually, your thoughts take you to Hoseok once more. You’d be lying if you don’t miss his presence and it has been just a few days since the incident. However, you just can’t find the right words to explain yourself, not when Christmas Eve is nearing.

Shaking your head, you keep your gaze low; eyes focusing on the snow-covered streets while the night grows darker with only street lanterns dimly lighting up the pathway. Just as you pass a particular house, loud laughter catches your attention, causing your legs to stop abruptly.

Through the bright window, you watch silently at what seems to be a Christmas gathering. You recognise some people who live in the same neighbourhood as you; even Jimin and Jungkook are there and… And Hoseok. Their smiles are so warm, and they seem to be enjoying themselves as they sit by the fireplace. The lively atmosphere inside the warm room is a definite contrast to the quietness of the night outside.

Letting out a sigh, you stop watching and continue on your way; once you arrive at your house, you mutter weakly, “I’m home…” After taking off your boots and gloves, you tug off your coat, brushing off the snow before you hang it on the coat hanger. Making your way towards the dark kitchen, you flip the light on and boil some water.

While waiting for it, your own mind seems to have an internal battle of its own. After that incident, you think it’s better to revert back to your old self who has no worries in being alone. However, after spending time with those children — it’s hard to admit, but you know you can’t be alone at this time of year. Spending time buried between pages of a book no longer distracts your thoughts, nor does sorting out books that are usually enough to distract you.

Opening the cabinet, you take out a box of your favourite tea, placing it on the counter. Looking back at the opened cabinet, you falter for a moment, staring at the unused mugs labelled ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. With pursed lips, you quickly take your own mug and close the cabinet.

Rain drizzles down onto the asphalt path while the repeated sound of Hoseok’s footsteps crunching fills the empty air. He avoids the wet snow, treading carefully to not soak his boots further in this weather. Rain during winter is perhaps one of the things Hoseok considers unpleasant, but it reflects his current mood despite today being Christmas Eve.

Crossing the familiar street with an opened umbrella in hand, he lets out a sigh into the cold air, fog coming out with his exhale. Growing nearer to your dark bookstore, his heart grows heavier with each step. He stops momentarily and peeks inside your darkened bookstore, then his shoulders drop in disappointment.

Arriving at his store, he closes his umbrella before entering. Hoseok rubs the sole of his boots against the ‘welcome’ rug, shaking the umbrella to shed the remaining frozen droplets on the material.

Jungkook — already onto his task of assembling bouquets — spares a glance at the older man. “No luck?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Hoseok mutters a ‘no’, passing by the counter gate and into the employee changing room.

It’s been more than a week since anyone has seen you. There has always been warm light filtering out through the window of your bookstore. However, now, your bookstore is completely dark as if life itself has been snuffed out of it.

Tugging off his thick coat, Hoseok places it on the hanger then takes the usual apron, tying it around his waist.

Hoseok wonders what had happened; the expression on your face was unlike anything he had ever seen… And, he really wants to reach out, but you have seemingly disappeared without a trace. As he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he’s still deep in thought, that is until Jungkook gasps rather loudly.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

But his movements stop completely when he hears a familiar voice — the voice he has been dying to hear again. In seconds, he barrels out of the room slamming the door albeit too loudly, startling Jungkook and…

“Y/N…” He stands in shock, still processing that you’re here.

“Hey,” you say nonchalantly, “I’d like a bouquet of chrysanthemums and dahlias, please.”

The three of you lapse into silence for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I’ll… Work on them... Yeah...” Jungkook snaps his finger while pursing his lips. “I’ll do just that…” Jungkook gets to work immediately, leaving you both near the main counter as he scuffles around the shop where the chrysanthemum and dahlias are.

Your gaze wanders along the neatly placed shelves on your side, and the various colourful flowers that’s set in silver-coloured buckets. It’s your first time visiting his store, and it is unexpected, alright. After your “disappearance”, you’re now here as if nothing has happened.

“I texted you…” Hoseok mumbles, earning your attention on him. “I called you too; visited your store a few times. What happened?”

“I needed time to get myself together,” you answer, fiddling with the button of your black coat.

“Why didn’t you call or at least let me know you’re okay? You had me really worried.”

“Because it’s none of your business.” You speak monotonously, but it still manages to strike at his heart.

Hoseok clenches his fists. “Right… My friend’s business is none of my concern.”

You exhale at that but still keep your mouth shut. Even as Jungkook timidly passes by you with the wrapped bouquet. Right after you pay for the flowers, you rush out.

Hoseok releases a breath that he did not even know he was holding. And he can feel his heart squeezing in pain.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

In silence, standing in front of the two tombstones — with an umbrella on one hand — you lay the bouquet between them. One shoulder is drenched from the rain, but you don't find it in yourself to care; not at this moment when all you can think about are your parents and that tragic day.

Countless of tears you have shed on the same day, each year; though it has been half a decade since then. But your heart still lays heavy in your chest, borderline suffocating in the middle of the quiet cemetery. And it feels as if it just happened recently.

Tearing your gaze away from the tombstone, you look up to the cloudy sky and blink rapidly — adamant about not letting any tears fall this year. With a deep breath, you look back down and leave.

The cold isn’t the worst when you walk back. Usually, you would even cry on the way home thinking about your parents. But this time, your mind persistently drifts to the disappointment on Hoseok’s face from earlier, unable to forget as if it is burned into your mind.

Biting your trembling lower lip, your steps grow faster to your bookstore. You promised Miriam you would come to visit the orphanage and bring more books for the children.

Arriving at the front door, you slot in the key and are about to unlock the door when you freeze momentarily, body seizing as your brows furrow. Taking a slow deep breath, you open the door and darkness greets you as usual. Closing the door behind you, the sound of your boots clicking on the wooden floor fills the air as you make a beeline towards the storage. Flicking the light on, your eyes search for the packed box on the corner, lifting it up in your arms once you find it before turning the lights off.

Walking between the shelves towards the front door, the jukebox appears in your sight. As everything that happened comes rushing back, you move towards it — dropping the box on the floor, nearly tripping over it — and your eyes looking around it frantically. “It should work now…” You mumble to yourself, at the now-cleaned jukebox and after letting it dry for days. You click the usual button, and wait…

And wait…

And…

“No…” Hands trembling, you make an attempt and press the button once more, but it just won’t turn on. “Please, please, please…” You begin to plead, tears welling up in your eyes and again you press the on button. This is the last resort, after all. You’ve called all the possible service stores that fix instruments and jukeboxes, but they all had the same response, ‘We’re sorry, this model is too old.’

“I’m sorry…” You whimper, knees giving out as a sob escapes your lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last piece of memory of your parents ceases. And your heart has never felt so cold on the night of Christmas Eve.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

When the fiftieth sigh escapes Hoseok’s lips, Jungkook spares him an empathetic glance as he does his task. “You should talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to.”

“Huh… That sounds so unlike you,” Jungkook muses as he cleans up the counter. “And you’ve been brooding all day.”

“I do not brood.”

“Tell that to the five customers the usual all-sunshine-and-rainbow florist has scared away today,” Jungkook remarks and stops cleaning to face Hoseok. “You should talk to her, Hyung. It hasn’t stopped you before. What changed?”

“I… I don’t...” Hoseok falters, searching for an answer. “She’s my friend, I…”

“You…?” Jungkook nods with a know-it-all look, urging the older one to continue.

Hoseok narrows his stare at the younger one. “You’re mocking me.”

“Nope,” Jungkook says, emphasising the ‘p’ with a pop. “I mean, you have always been forward with your feelings, and I really admire that. Unlike, you know, Jimin—” He pauses. “—please don’t tell him that, but yeah, what’s stopping you now?”

“I just—” Hoseok releases a deep sigh. “—I don’t want to lose her, not after everything. And she’s the type of person who really values her space. I can’t just barge in and demand to make everything alright. She’ll come around, and she’ll show it when she’s ready.”

Jungkook purses his lips, seemingly in deep thought.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” Hoseok asks in frustration.

“I think I know why…” Jungkook mutters.

“Why Y/N is acting the way she did?”

“No, not exactly,” Jungkook answers. “But on why she hates Jimin’s guts, ‘cuz you know, he tends to not read the situation he’s in and go all in without thinking of the consequences—”

Hoseok makes an attempt to cut Jungkook off. However, Jungkook raises his hand to stop Hoseok as he continues, “—but you—” Jungkook gives Hoseok a pointed look. “— you tend to read the situation you’re in and that’s a good thing. So, I suggest, instead of moping around, you can just go to her and see how she is doing? See if she wants to talk and if she does, you talk, and if not, then you can leave.”

Blinking, those words sink into Hoseok’s mind. “That’s actually… A great idea…”

“Yeah, wonder why no one has thought about it, but ends up scaring away customers instead,” Jungkook retorts and clears his throat at the glare Hoseok sends his way. “Which, you know, is okay since we’re humans, after all, right? We make mistakes. And the only thing we can do is try to make up for it.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at that before chuckling. “You’re right, JK.”

“I know I— I mean, am I?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Right, okay. So, I’ll go check on Y/N. And since it’s already closing hours—” He glances at the wall clock while untying his apron. “—you can just close up today.”

“What?”

But Hoseok ignores him and runs straight into the changing room to grab his coat. Once he goes out, he tosses the key to Jungkook. “I’m entrusting you with it.”

“Wait, but—”

“See you tomorrow!”

And Hoseok rushes out of his store, leaving a baffled Jungkook behind.

Hoseok scores a new record in the number of minutes it takes for him to reach your bookstore. However, his shoulder droops as the last bit of his hope vanishes at the sight of the dark place.

So, you had left. Or still not coming in.

He steps closer to the window, futilely peeking inside. After a few moments, he sighs in disappointment, putting his hands inside the pocket of his long plaid coat. Just as he’s about to leave, he stops — furrowing his brows when…

Is that a whimper?

Curiously, he goes near the door once more and makes an attempt to turn the knob and it opens. Eyes widening, he enters quickly into the darkness. And there he can finally (barely) see your hunched figure on the floor beside your antique jukebox, burying your face as your arms are wrapped around your knees… Crying?

“Y/N?” He calls out in hesitance, taking a few steps closer. You look at him and Hoseok braces for you to tell him to get out.

But instead, all you can mumble is his name. “Hoseok…”

“Hey…” Slowly, Hoseok crouches on one knee to meet your gaze. “I’m here.”

You merely stare at him, unmoving.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N,” he says, softly. “I’m here.”

Throat bobbing, more tears flow down across your cheeks. Hoseok opens his arms. “Come here.”

One moment you are still unmoving, and the next you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Hoseok leans back — both knees on the floor now — one hand gently pats your head while the other arm keeps you close to him.

“Let it all out. I’m here now,” He whispers, letting your face rest against the crook of his neck. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

[ flashback ]

It should have been a happy time for Hoseok as he gathers with all the people he cares about. Well, not all of them when you have not even read his texts. He scrolls through his phone mindlessly, staring at the texts he had sent over the past few days.

Hoseok [18/12]: Hey… how’re you feeling? I brought some sugar doughnuts today but you weren’t working today :( i hope everything’s well

Hoseok [20/12]: Y/N, i’m really sorry about what happened. Please let me know if you need anything

Hoseok [21/12]: you know i hate it when it rains so hard during the winter, i swear i came into my shop with icicles hanging on my face and jungkook had to say that i looked like that squirrel from ice age 😭 anyway, i met a tough customer today… I spent three hours waiting for them to choose which flowers they’d like for their bouquet. Even jungkook was close to combusting as well. it was torture 😢

Hoseok [22/12]: Hey, so we’re having a christmas celebration tomorrow, would you like to come? It’ll be fun!

Hoseok [23/12]: hey, Y/N! I was wondering if you’re going to make it to the celebration?

But that last text was hours ago and you had remained unresponsive. Hoseok sighs harshly and his emotions overwhelm him. And he lets himself think if you’re worth all the trouble and turmoil he’s facing.

“Something on your mind, dear?” His grandmother asks, placing one comforting hand on his knee. “I know that look on your face all too well. Your father used to have that look whenever he’s in deep thought. So, let me guess, is it a girl?”

Hoseok blinks a few times, flustered at his grandmother’s guess. “Yes, but well, no? Not really?”

“Who is it? I never heard any news about your love life. And now, your dear grandmother is absolutely curious,” she says, laughing with mirth lighting up her crinkled eyes.

Hoseok smiles softly at his grandmother before he relents and tells her all about you. At the mention of your name, he swears his grandmother just smiles a tad wider.

“It’s about time she finds someone,” she mutters to herself but Hoseok still hears it anyway.

“You know Y/N, Grandma?”

She nods. “Y/N used to live in the orphanage a few years ago… Poor thing.”

Hoseok gapes at that. “I… Never knew.” His heart twisting painfully in guilt and worry. “I’ve always assumed she had a really bad past since she never talks about it.”

“Definitely traumatising for someone so young to face heavy losses.” His grandma explains. “She dealt with most of it on her own, and… She may come across as cold, but she isn’t cruel, she’s just closed off,” Helen says softly. “But I guess you know that already?”

Hoseok nods.

“So, don’t give up on her. I think right now, she needs someone more than ever. She has had no one to lean on for so long.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

You stare silently at the crackling flames with a blanket wrapped around your frame and for some time your mind stays quiet after you have emptied out your pent-up emotions. Hoseok busies himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, and brings out two mugs of hot chocolate.

After your cry fest in the bookstore, Hoseok has taken you to his place for some hot chocolate he received from his grandmother, who had insisted that he should let you try it even when you know nothing of her. You rejected the offer at first, not wanting to bother him more after your breakdown. But Hoseok being Hoseok, from the time you have gotten to know him, you’ve learned that he can be very persuasive and persistent. And now, here you are, where he claims is his humble abode.

One thing for sure, this place screams Hoseok. It’s definitely more to the cozy side despite some unique furniture you spot decorating the place.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a mug from his extended hand as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better...” You take a sip of the hot chocolate, sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. And you resist the urge to hum in delight.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok shifts his gaze from the flames to you.

“Why did you help me?” You blurt out. “I mean, you didn’t have to… Like just now, and after the way I treated you, usually people would... Leave.”

Hoseok ponders for a moment. “Maybe it’s because they don’t know you like I do.”

“But we just met each other not too long ago.”

“And that’s enough for me to get to know you, at least some part of you. And as I’ve mentioned before, I would really like to get to know you even better.”

“I don’t think you really do…” You mumble, staring into the half-finished hot chocolate.

Hoseok snorts at that. “You’re someone who really values her space and if someone dares to cross that line you’ll give them hell for it.”

His facial expression softens further as he continues, “And you’re also someone who knows how to stand up for herself, not needing anyone to defend you. You don’t care what others think of you because you already know your own worth.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Do you need me to continue? Because I still have more and—”

“Hoseok… I’m not— I don’t think I’m a nice person to be around...” you admit.

“That is the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Hoseok scoffs. “So you’re telling me someone forced you to donate children books to the orphanage and read to those children?” He recalls the pictures his grandmother showed him the other day — of you reading to the children and having a pleasant time with them.

Blinking, you gape at him. “H-How did—”

“My grandma told me.” Hoseok is now looking at you, unamused. You shoot him a confused look as he explains further, “Helen is my grandmother. And I may not know what you have gone through, Y/N. But I told you I’m here and you don’t have to face things on your own now.”

You look away from his gaze, unable to keep looking into his intense stare any longer.

“Why do you hate Christmas?”

You stiffen at his question as it becomes silent between the two of you besides the crackling sound of flames. Hoseok sighs after a few moments, placing his hand on your arm briefly as if to say ‘it’s alright’ then standing up from the couch.

Just as he’s about to step into the kitchen, you blurt out, “I loathe Christmas.” And his steps falter, he turns slightly to look at you fiddling with the mug nervously. “I hate anything that has to do with Christmas because like I once told you, this season seems to force people to be happy. It doesn’t care whether or not you’re hurting inside, no consideration of how people truly feel in the heart. And I gradually find it pointless and fake.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I… I lost my parents on Christmas Eve.” And the image of the car flipping upside down still vivid in your mind and you can hear the crash as clear. “I don’t deserve to feel happy, not when I should’ve gone with them at the incident. I-I should have gone with them. It's n-not fair that they’re gone and I’m here and alone and if I’m happy while they’re not here—” you blabber, hands shaking rapidly. “It’s not fair and now, I’ve failed them, I lost them— Their jukebox is broken and I can’t do anything about it,” you whimper. “Just like that day.”

“Y/N…” And you didn’t realise Hoseok is already in front of you, crouching. He lays his hand gently on yours after taking your mug, placing it on the coffee table. “Look at me,” he stares up into your eyes, gaze so warm and gentle that you might even break down again. It’s been a long time since someone looked at you that way. “You can’t take responsibility over the things that are out of your control.”

“And what you had gone through is unimaginable, but do you think you’ve punished yourself enough, even though it’s not your fault? You stopped letting yourself enjoy life itself and — correct me if I’m wrong — your parents wouldn’t want that for you,” Hoseok says. “Would they want you to be trapped in your past?”

You let his words sink in.

“And despite your jukebox not working anymore, that doesn��t mean that your parents are gone.” Hoseok grips your forearm, lifting your right hand to place it on top of your heart. “They live in you. You’re their daughter after all. The jukebox only serves as a memory of them, but surely, you have other memories of them.”

After all this time, you realised that’s what you needed to hear — you haven’t failed your parents, despite everything.

“And looking at how you’ve grown into this amazing woman that I have the privilege to get to know, I’m definitely sure your parents are proud of you.”

Face crumpling, your palm covers your eyes as another sob escapes your throat.

Sitting again next to you, Hoseok coos and gathers you in his arms. “Cry all you want, I’m here, love. I’m here…”

And you cried again, the hardest you’ve done in a long time.

Once you have calmed down, you murmur, “They used to dance around the house a lot...” Tear-stained cheek resting against his chest as you find yourself curled up on his lap. “Hanging socks and filling them with candies, claiming that they’re for the elves that visit late at night.”

Hoseok leans against the throw pillows, quietly listening as you tell stories of how your parents used to love the winter season. His warmth comforts you and your still-aching heart.

That night you fell asleep in his arms; the last bit of your emotions all used up, but your heart definitely feels lighter than the past years.

Knocking on the wooden door, you clear your throat, hearing scurrying footsteps before the door opens.

“Y/N!” Miriam exclaims. “I was so worried, you didn’t show up yesterday.”

“Sorry, something came up yesterday and I didn’t realise how late it was when I was done. But I bring another couple of books?” You lift up the box in your hands in emphasis.

Miriam lights up at that. “Well, come on in. The children will be so happy. They are excited to—”

“Oof—!” The loud thump behind you causes you to turn to see Hoseok huffing, catching his breath — one hand on his knee as he sits on the stairs — another box on top of the stoop. “I didn’t realise how much book you’ve packed, Y/N.”

Snorting, you place the box you’re holding on your left hip and extend your right hand to him, instinctively, to help him up. “C’mon, the children are inside and we should help to unpack the boxes first.” He takes your hand and pulls himself up, nearly stumbling and having his face close to yours.

As if his piercing gaze locks you in a trance, you stare back until he murmurs, “Well, someone is looking beautiful today.”

Spluttering, you let go of his hand, face burning. “Let’s go.”

Hoseok laughs at your embarrassment before he lifts up the box on the floor and makes his way inside, passing by Miriam who’s waiting by the door.

When you step inside, Miriam whispers, “Is he—?” Her tone lace with curiosity as a teasing smile appears on her lips.

“Uh, no, he’s not my boyfriend—” You say too quickly, flustered.

“Well, I meant to ask if he is Helen’s grandson, but I see.” Miriam fails to stifle a big smile now. “You two would look really good together.”

You curse yourself, walking faster as Miriam laughs behind you, closing the door. When you reach the living room, the children are already waiting and once you step into their view, they squeal happily.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Amy waves to you giddily. “Hobi says you brought more books for us!”

“H-Hobi…?” You blink. Snapping your gaze towards said man who is already looking at you intently and you avert your gaze once more to the grinning children. “Umm, yeah. I do.” You sit beside Hoseok, tearing the tape off the boxes you two brought in.

This time you brought in colouring books and other story books.

“Can Hobi read to us today?” One of the children asks.

You shift your gaze to his surprised face, a teasing smile appears on your face. “Yeah, Hobi, you should read to them today.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze at you before leaning close to whisper, “You should call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” Then he turns to the children, smiling. “Alright, I’ll read for today. And which book do you want to read?”

“Which one is your favourite, Hobi?” Another kid — Ian — asks, curiously looking through the books.

“Well…” Hoseok scans through the titles of the stacked books. Your eyes widen at his pick. “This one!” He lifts up the How the Grinch Stole Christmas book.

“Wait— I read that to them already,” you try to stop the children’s interested looks.

“He can read it to us again!” Amy says giddily. “I think it’s a really nice story!”

“But there are other better books to read,” you offer. “Like…” You look through the books you brought. “This! The Night Before Christmas!” you read the title aloud.

“We can read that later,” Quin whines. “We want to hear Hobi read the book!”

Unbelievable. How the hell can these children choose him over you already?

As if he can read your mind, Hoseok shoots you a smug look and you pout like a petulant child. “Fine, I’m gonna go to the kitchen to help Miriam,” you huff, standing up and stomp out.

Hoseok watches your figure disappear into the kitchen before he says, “She’s so cute, isn’t she?”

Amy nods, grinning. “She’s grown up, but she’s still like us! That’s why playing with Y/N is so fun!”

“Right…” He gives a brief soft smile at Amy before he clears throat. “So let’s begin…”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“You’re not reading to the children?” Miriam asks when you appear in the kitchen.

“No, Hoseok’s handling that.” You take a fresh apron and tie it around your waist. “So… I’ll help out with the cookies.”

“Alright then,” Miriam chuckles, handing you the mixing bowl and mixer. “You can continue mixing the ingredients until everything’s smooth and I’ll take out the cookies I baked earlier.”

You flip the switch of the mixer on and continue to mix the ingredients. When the texture of the dough is smooth, you place the mixture into small scoops on the baking tray and that’s when you overheard Hoseok’s voice.

“What can you learn from the Grinch’s story?”

“Oh! Oh!” One of the kids exclaims. “That Christmas isn’t all about gifts!”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agrees. “And also, despite the Grinch being mean at first, even unkind, that doesn’t mean that they are truly that way at heart.”

Your movements falter at his words.

“There is always a reason behind their actions,” Hoseok points out. “So, it’s always best to learn about them first before assuming things.”

“You sound like you know the Grinch well.” Amy tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you happen to know the Grinch, Hobi?”

“Well, I don’t know the Grinch personally,” he muses. “But I do know someone who is very similar to him. Maybe that’s why I grew fond of the Grinch.”

Did Hoseok just compare you to the Grinch?

You scoff internally. Quickly, you finish scooping the rest of the cookie dough onto the tray before placing it in the oven after Miriam takes out the first batch of cookies and then retrieving a serving tray from one of the cabinets.

“Oh!” Amy raises her hand enthusiastically. “I know! I know!”

“Yes, Amy?”

“An act of kindness towards someone can change them!”

Hoseok blinks. “That… Is right.”

“That’s right.” You walk into the living room with glasses full of milk for the children. “An act of kindness can change a person’s life.” Placing the tray on the coffee table, you look at the children one by one. “So, it’s important to be kind to others.”

As if on cue, Miriam brought out the freshly-baked cookies. And the children flock around her to get a piece. She chastises them and sets the cookies on the table alongside the glasses of milk.

You spent the entire Christmas day in the orphanage, helping out and spending time with the children and Hoseok. You even meet Helen who never stops gushing once she finds the two of you visiting the orphanage.

When it’s already late at night, you and Hoseok bid the children farewell with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. Hoseok walks you home afterwards, and silence falls between you — both comforting and soothing. Arriving in front of your doorsteps, you turn to him who is already staring at you with his bright eyes.

“Thank you for today, Hoseok—” You stop at his unamused look. “What?”

“I thought I told you to call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” He steps closer to you. You step back. “Hearing you saying ‘Hoseok’ all the time makes it sound so formal between us.”

“Alright—” You place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. “—Hobi, got it.”

“That’s better.” He chuckles at your antics before he steps back, stance growing uneasy. “And, uh, I forgot to tell you that there’s a winter market near the town hall. Would you like to come with me tomorrow?”

You nod without any hesitance.

“But Jimin will be there too.” And he adds quickly, “With his girlfriend. So, he won’t bother us and—”

“I’ll go.” You pause for a moment. “There’s something I need to resolve with him too.”

A gentle smile appears on Hoseok’s face at that. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

He grins before tugging you in for a hug to which you reciprocate as if it’s second nature. And you both stay like that for a while until Hoseok mumbles suddenly, “I think I left something in your bookstore when we went to pick up the books earlier.”

You laugh. “Well then, I can go with—”

“Oh no, that's okay!” He says quickly. “I’ll go there myself, if you’re okay with lending me your key?”

“Oh, sure.” You take the keys out of your pocket. “Don’t lose it, yeah?” You chuckle, handing him the keys.

He nods. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s another cold morning. Jungkook stifles a yawn as he walks along his usual route to Hoseok’s flower shop. Unable to contain his yawn any longer, he covers his face with his hand before he freezes — mid-yawn — when he sees you standing in front of the shop.

Quickly shutting his mouth, he calls out, “Y/N?”

Your gaze snaps to him from your phone. “Jungkook, hi!”

Uh-oh. Jungkook wonders if Hoseok has screwed up — since the man himself isn’t here — and now you’re seeking help from him to perhaps find ways to get rid of his hyung.

“Hey… May I ask what you’re doing here?” He checks his watch briefly. “So early…?”

“Hi, yeah, so I need a bouquet…” You fidget nervously.

“Oh?” Jungkook focuses on unlocking the glass door. “May I know what you’re looking for?”

“Hydrangeas and irises...”

He opens the door and motion for you to enter before following suit. “I’ll put my things in the back and I’ll wrap your bouquet.”

You mutter an ‘okay’ as he quickly changes into his uniform. Jungkook changes in record time as he has heard of stories of you being impatient, especially during the winter season. And well, someone has never intimidated him so much even though he is taller than you.

“Okay, so, hydrangeas and irises,” Jungkook mutters once he’s out of the changing room. He makes a quick dash towards the respective flower buckets and brings it back to the counter.

“Oh… They’re pretty,” you comment, eyeing the flowers curiously. But somehow Jungkook feels like you are scrutinizing him, ready to nitpick at him should you find any mistake or flaw.

“Why are your hands shaking?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands—” you point out. “—are shaking. Don’t you do this every day?”

“Not every day,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to stop his hands from shaking. “Anyways—” He clears his throat, changing the subject. “Who’s the special one?”

You blink. “Uh…”

Another uh-oh. This will not end well. Hyung is going to throw a major fit if he finds out about this.

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.” Jungkook arranges the flower stems together. “No one is going to hear about this. I promise you. I know you really value your privacy.” You shoot him a confused look while he rambles. Not long after, he lifts up the bouquet. “Is... This okay?”

“Do you have yellow irises?”

“Uh, you want the yellow one?” He makes a face.

“What is it?”

“It’s going to be ugly,” he blurts out before he remembers who he's talking to. “I-I mean if you want them then I’ll search for the yellow—”

“No! That's okay!” Your hands flay to stop him from finding more irises. “It’s fine, really. I trust your opinion. You’re the expert.”

Jungkook blinks, clearly caught off-guard by your words. “Oh… I— Thank you.”

You nod, giving him a smile that is, dare he say, pretty.

“Okay,” He relaxes, bunny-smile appearing on his face. “I’ll finish this up quick.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook finally manages to finish the bouquet and you thank him incessantly to which he responds with a flustered ‘No problem, just doing my job…’

Rushing out of the store, you check your phone for Hobi’s text which says that he’s on the way to the market and would meet you there. With your heart fluttering, you put your phone back into your pocket after sending him a ‘see u too, hobi :)’.

Arriving in the market twenty minutes later, you spot him standing near the entrance, waving at you enthusiastically.

“Hey,” he starts before gaze dropping on the bouquet you extend to him. “Wha—”

You mumble, “These are for you...”

His eyes grow wide. “I… Thank you.” He breathes out. “Wow, this is so unexpected. I don’t know what to say.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle.

“So…” He observes the bouquet. “You bought these flowers from my shop and you’re giving them to me.”

At his words, you blink as realisation dawns on you. “Uh, oh right I—” You stammer, flustered.

And Hoseok laughs at your cuteness. “Aww, that’s okay. I’m just joking. But, thank you. It’s really meaningful.”

“You know the meaning of the flowers?”

He grabs your hand, tugging you along into the market. “Of course. Hydrangeas means—”

“—grateful for being understood.”

“Thank you for being understanding.”

You both say simultaneously.

He stops, turning to you as his hand tightens on yours.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you.” You meet his gaze. “And, I really appreciate what you did for me these past few days — months — actually. I really can’t thank you enough.”

A soft smile decorates his lips. And before the both of you are able to say anything else, a familiar voice calls out Hoseok’s name. Turning your gaze to Jimin and his girlfriend, you greet them with a small ‘hello’ and a smile. As they walk closer, Jimin has a wary look on his face while his girlfriend responds to you with a smile of her own.

“Jimin…” You earn his attention. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nods as his girlfriend and Hoseok gives both of you space.

“Look. About the other day, I know you had no intention of bringing Chatterbox to my store to mess things up. I just want to apologise, you just wanted to set things right and I blamed you for her actions which you have no absolute control over.”

“No, Y/N. I could have explained better that we’re going to just apologise — no drinking and no singing—”

“And it’s in the past,” you cut him off. “And that’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m really sorry for not trusting you,” Jimin sighs. “I thought they had really sung a few blocks away, but you still did not like it and drove them away.”

You shake your head. “Even though I hate their carolling so much, I would have tolerated it if they were singing a few blocks away. But they still sang in front of my store and that angers me.”

“I wouldn’t take your words lightly, Y/N.”

“I sure hope not,” you snort, but then a grin appears on your face. A genuine smile appears on Jimin’s face in return as he extends his hand. And you shake it with yours, finally making up.

Returning to Hoseok’s side, you both wander around the market and you take in the festivity of it all.

“Oh! Look at those skewers!” Hoseok points out in excitement. “Wanna go try it?”

You nod at him. “I’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ve never been to any of the winter markets.”

“Alright,” he answers giddily, taking your arm to loop around his own. “Don’t want you to get lost now.” Chuckling at that, he leads you towards the first food stall of the day.

People are smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves and for once it does not bring as much bitterness as before. It’s been quite some time since you are able to feel this way without holding back. But you’re certain you’ll move on, little by little.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“That was really fun,” you laugh, walking back to your bookstore with Hoseok still glued on your side. Despite not being in a crowded place any longer, he refuses to let go of you.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he muses. “We should do this more often.”

“Hanging out in markets, trying out various kinds of food together?”

“Well, if you consider it a date,” Hoseok says as you reach your store.

“Are you asking me out, Jung Hoseok?” You fish out the keys, unlocking the door.

“You remember my whole name?” He teases.

You shoot him a playful glare, stepping inside. “I mean, I have a sharp memory when it comes to relevant people in my—” You stop, gaping at the sudden colourful hues of orchids and dahlias decorating the broken jukebox. “I… What—”

Hoseok watches you stride towards the jukebox, observing the flowers intently with your glassy gaze while he takes off his gloves. At that moment, you seem like a child finding a surprise gift from Santa. And if Hoseok could, he would like to keep this moment into his memory forever.

When you finally turn to him, you ask, “D-Did you do this?”

He nods. “It’s fake though, since we don’t want them to wilt and—” You lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as he nearly drops the bouquet you had given him earlier. Setting it down on the cashier counter, he wraps his arms around you as well in a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“It’s still beautiful, Hobi…” you murmur, breathing in his scent. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I hope it would bring comfort to you, Y/N…”

Pulling away — still in his arms — you meet his gaze and blurt out, “Gosh, I swear I think I can kiss you right now.” The pair of you stiffen as heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I mean—”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” he says, cupping your cheek. Leaning down to close the distance between you. You scan through his eyes for any signs of hesitance and when you find none, you close the remaining distance, meeting his lips with yours.

Everything happens so fast, but Hoseok is the only clarity at this moment as his hand on your waist moves up to cup your other cheek to deepen the kiss.

“Hobi...” You breathe out as he backs you against one of your shelves. “Hoseok—”

“Y/N...” he murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as he looks into your eyes, gaze half-lidded. “Do you know what blue irises mean?”

You blink, still processing his question. “Hope… And faith?”

He chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It also means deep feelings when gifted to someone.”

Gaping, you stare up at his face.

“Is that how you feel? Towards me?”

You nod slowly.

He kisses your forehead softly and your eyes flutter shut. Interlacing your fingers together, he leans his forehead on yours while he whispers, “I feel the same way. I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He then mumbles, “I really, really like you, Y/N.”

“I really, really like you too, Hobi.” You meet his lips again. He smiles into the kiss.

When you both pull away to catch your breaths, you bury your face on the crook of his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

And he kisses your temple, holding you tighter in his arms.

After punishing yourself over the loss of your parents, you had never given yourself a chance to move on. But you have known for quite some time that some part of you longed for a change. That is why you admire the Grinch who has a change of heart towards Christmas. Now with Hoseok by your side, you realise that you can move on as he encourages you to finally take a step forward. And for once you look hopefully to a happier future.

author’s note: honestly, i nearly turned this into a drabble series, but well, my writings are either too long or too short theres no in between so, oneshot it is sjdksjkfsd i hope you guys enjoyed it and as always, feedbacks are always appreciated !! if you’re interested in jimin’s story, you can find it here! thank you for reading 💕

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lexiepiper · 4 years ago

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Dani visits the human world and notices some things that have changed since the last time she was there.

Phic Phight Prompt by @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy

Summary: What is there to say?

Dani slipped through the Fenton portal into the world of the living, and was immediately greeted by the feeling of cool air on her skin. She took a deep breath, hovering invisibly in the middle of the lab and slowly cherishing the sensation of fresh, living air filling her lungs.

The lab was… quiet. She frowned and spun on the spot, confirming that she was the only person there. The monitors lining the benches were dull, and there were no typical flashing lights or whirring electronics. The only illumination came from the portal. Dani didn’t know a lot about other people’s labs, but Vlad’s had always been full of soft noise, as machines hummed and blipped little tunes that had always soothed her back to sleep.

She pushed the memory away. Maybe the Fentons’ lab was just quiet when nobody was there? After all, it wasn’t like there were growing life forms that needed constant support and monitoring.

Still. It didn’t quite seem to fit the glimpses of this place that she’d had in the past, no matter how fleeting they’d been.

She phased through the ceiling, and the darkness was replaced by soft natural light that streamed through open windows. The glimpse of sunlight struck her with unexpected surprise, and Dani hissed in a sharp breath as her core hummed deep within her centre. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to fly out into the open sky, feeling the wind in her hair and the sun soaking into her skin for the first time in… wait, how long had it actually been?

She frowned, scrunching her face as she tried to track how long she’d been in the Ghost Zone. Surely it hadn’t been more than a few months, right?

Shaking her head to clear it, she glanced around the living room. Unease prickled down her spine, dampening her good mood, but Dani couldn’t quite place what was wrong. There was that same old couch and rug, a TV against one wall, and framed photos lining the mantelpiece.

She was surprised that Danny hadn’t appeared yet. Shouldn’t she have set off his ghost sense by now?

Dani’s heart pounded against her ribcage as she floated up again, phasing through the floor of Danny’s bedroom…

This was Danny’s room, right? No, she must have misjudged the layout of the home. It appeared to be a guest room, with a plain mattress devoid of blankets or sheets on the bed frame, and empty shelves lining the walls with a clear desk tucked in the corner. The curtains were drawn, but they were so threadbare that there was no problem seeing in the bright daylight that shone right through.

She phased through the wall, and ended up in a room with a decidedly teal colour scheme. The curtains were closed in here too but enough light filtered through to make out the details anyway. It was as neat as one of those pictures of perfect homes in magazines, and the framed high school diploma above the study alcove suggested that the room belonged to Jazz. Or… it had? The air felt stale and dusty, like nobody had been in here in a while. Dani drifted over to the dresser and ran her finger across the top, coming away with a fine layer of dust.

She pinched her lower lip between her teeth. Jazz had been pretty close to graduation when Dani had gone into the Ghost Zone, so maybe she was at university now?

Yeah. That made sense.

Unease settled more densely over her, and Dani phased through the wall again. She passed through the linen cupboard and a bathroom in desperate need of a good clean, and then found herself in what was obviously Danny’s parents’ room. This one finally appeared to be lived in, with the duvet crumpled and left unmade, and glasses of water on bedside tables. The curtains were open in here, and the air felt fresher and less dead.

Dani didn’t really want to poke around through Maddie and Jack’s stuff, so she phased back out into the hallway. She tilted her head, scowling as she counted the doors in the hallway.

There were exactly five — one for each bedroom, and one for the bathroom and the linen cupboard.

Dread dropped into her gut, like she’d suddenly swallowed a bowling ball, and Dani crept back into the first room. She pulled back the curtains, and dust motes swirled in the beams of sunlight as the room was fully illuminated. She stood in the middle of the carpet, turning in a slow circle and reaching out tentatively with her core.

There were slightly darker rectangles on the wall where there used to be posters of star charts and band tours, and when she tilted her head back, Dani could just make out the tiny silhouettes where glow in the dark stars had once been stuck to the ceiling and the white paint had faded around them.

She couldn’t sense any other ghosts beside herself. There wasn’t so much as a glimmer of residual spectral activity aside from the steady hum of the portal two floors beneath her.

“Where are you?” she whispered into the still emptiness.

Maybe… maybe she’d been gone longer than she’d thought. Maybe Danny had graduated and gone to college too. She didn’t think he’d have abandoned Amity Park, but maybe he’d moved out with Tucker, or finally gotten together with Sam or Valerie and was living with them? She didn’t really know much about his friends, but that seemed like the kind of thing they’d do, especially if Danny’s parents didn’t know his secret yet. He was probably just too far across town for her to sense.

Dani shot up through the ceiling and broke into the open air. The sunlight enveloped her with sudden life, and despite everything she smiled and gave a deep sigh. The Ghost Zone had been interesting, and it certainly helped to keep her core stable, but her human half delighted in the chance to soak in the energy of the mortal world once more.

Making sure that she stayed invisible, Dani floated above the town in a huge, lazy loop, feeling for any sign of Danny. There was a gentle breeze, and she revelled in the way it stirred her hair and brushed against her exposed skin.

By the time she’d returned to Fentonworks, the contentment of being in the human world had once again been overrun by anxiety.

Dani debated dropping by Valerie’s house, before realising that she didn’t actually know where it was. She scowled, but after a moment of thought began to fly across the town again, this time with a clear destination in mind.

She touched down in the parking lot behind the library, using invisibility to mask herself as she changed into her human form before walking through the front doors just like any normal kid. Nobody even glanced her way, and Dani sidled over to the row of thick computer screens that buzzed almost imperceptibly and played screensavers of what looked like photos of community events. She picked the screen furthest from the library desk, as far away from prying eyes as possible but when she nudged the mouse the screensaver was replaced with a screen prompting her to log in.

Dani frowned and looked toward the desk. She didn’t have a card, but she didn’t really want to sign up for one either. Didn’t you need ID for that kind of thing?

An older man sat down at a vacant computer close to hers, and Dani slid out of her seat and casually strolled to the bookshelf behind him. She pretended to be scanning the titles while he slowly used pointed index fingers to tap out his login details, and Dani carefully repeated the details in her mind as she grabbed a random book and headed back to her seat. Her screen had jumped back to the screensaver, and she doubted that she could log in while the man was already suing his account, so she surreptitiously turned to the back of her book and used a glowing fingertip to etch the man’s username and password into the bottom corner of the final page. She flipped back to the front cover again and raised an eyebrow at the yellow smiley face and the large self-help title in raised gold block letters.

Oh, well. Whatever.

Dani thumbed through her book, skimming through some of the tips in the organisational section while surreptitiously stealing glances at the man on the nearby computer. Her fingers almost itched with anticipation but she held herself steady.

It didn’t take him long to leave, and Dani could only hope that he hadn’t used up all of the allotted time on his account for the day. She flipped back to the details and typed them in, relief pulling a sigh from deep within her as the computer opened up to its main desktop page. The little timer in the top corner indicated that the account still had twenty minutes, so she pushed the book aside and opened the web browser straight away.

It only took a few seconds to log into Facebook, and Dani felt a twinge of guilt at the sheer amount of notifications. She was tempted to check them now, but the steady timer in the corner reminded her to focus and she clicked into the messenger webpage instead.

There were only two conversations — one from Danny, and the other from Valerie. Val’s were bolded and unread, but Danny’s…

Dani chewed her lip and brushed overlong bangs out of her face, trying to fight through the sudden heart-wrenching betrayal of abandonment.

Danny’s last message to her had been over a year ago, the day she left for the Ghost Zone.

She quickly opened the conversation, double checking that yes, he hadn’t messaged her since she’d left. It didn’t make sense. This was their only form of communication when she wasn’t in town! Did he really think so little of her, that he wouldn’t message her so that she’d have something to come back to? Was she really just a clone to him after all?

That last thought stopped her anger in its tracks. Danny would never think that.

She took a deep, grounding breath, and opened the unread messages from Valerie.

There wasn’t much there, but what Danielle did see turned her blood to ice.

How could I have known when neither of you ever told me?!

I’m sorry

Please, Danielle, I’m sorry!

I didn’t mean it

You have to know I didn’t mean it

I never would have done it if I’d just KNOWN!

I’m sorry

Dani swallowed, hard. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard but for a long moment she just stared at the screen.

She clicked back into her conversation with Danny. The last time he’d messaged her was only a few days before that frantic barrage from Valerie.

Just make sure you stay away from Skulker!

Frostbite will help you if you need it

Or Pandora

At the time, she was amused by his overprotectiveness. Yeah I know. See you later!

He’d responded cheerfully, but then had never messaged her again.

Okay

Stay safe!

I hope you have a blast

She read it again, and panic crept into her core. “No,” she breathed, and clicked back to Facebook’s main page, searching up Danny’s account.

The latest posts were birthday wishes from two months ago.

Dani scrolled down, numb horror cocooning her thoughts. The posts made by his friends and family all blurred together into a collage of soft wishes of peace and somber murmurs of sadness. Below his birthday wishes were a collection of posts from four months ago, and Dani’s hands trembled as she read every single one.

Sixteen months.

The ambient sounds of the library faded into static as she realised that Danny Fenton had been dead and buried for sixteen months.

She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat, and it was like fighting past hands that were clenched around her neck. Dani’s eyes burned and she dragged in a shallow breath, sharp with the strain of fighting back tears.

They slipped down her cheeks anyway, and she sniffed and took another strained breath, clicking into her messages once more.

She didn’t know what to say, but Dani knew she had to say something. It wasn’t right, to just leave him hanging like that.

Her hands clenched in her lap, and Dani rubbed the water off her face only to have more tears fall straight away. A sob clawed its way out of her throat and she pressed her fist over her mouth, muffling it as much as she could.

People were looking at her now, and she ducked her head and tried to hold everything in.

This wasn’t fair. How could she have let this happen? How could she have left him?

How could he have left her?

She clenched her teeth together. As tempting as it was to post on his page, she didn’t want to be public about it. What right did she have anyway, to freshly grieve him when he’d already been gone for so long? What right did she have to message his friends, who she barely knew, or his family, who she had never even met?! How could she drag them into her existence when it’d just dredge up the rawness all over again?!

Dani realised that she’d tensed her body so much that she was trembling with the effort and had forgotten to breathe. She took a shaky breath, and her tight muscles snapped into a loud, hiccupping cry.

Gritting her teeth again, tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping into her mouth and off her chin, Dani typed three words into the private message chat box.

I’m so sorry.

She closed the browser, and the screen went black and flicked back to the login screen as the timer hit zero.

Grief crashed into her with the force of a tsunami and Dani pressed her palms over her eyes and wept. Huge, gasping sobs tore from her chest, making her gut ache as her pulse roared in her ears.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

It was probably the stupidest question she’d ever heard, and Dani shook her head mutely, keeping her hands over her eyes as the tears continued to flood through her fingers and snot began to drip from her nose.

Someone nudged her shoulder. “Here,” the same voice offered, and Dani peeked through her fingers to see a tissue box. She squinted up at the librarian, and the tears kept flowing like a tap that had been left running.

Dani pressed her lips together and nodded once, grabbing a handful of tissues and immediately burying her face in them as she was hit by a fresh wave of grief. She knew that eventually she’d have to move, she’d have to stop crying and take the next step, but for now all that mattered was the way her head throbbed with every sob and how her eyes burned hotter and hotter the more she cried. She couldn’t breathe deeper than short, shallow gasps, and every time she tried to think, all she could picture was Danny’s face and her world came crashing down again.

It took her a long time to stop crying, but when she did she was left staring at the pile of soaking tissues next to the keyboard as the bright halogen lights made her eyes sting.

She had no clue what to do now.

He was dead, and she didn’t even get to say goodbye.

#Danny Phantom #Phic Phight 2021 #Phic Phight #idiot-cheesehead-archenemy #lexiepiper #I should probably tag this as angst so yeah #angst #This fic was an emotional journey to write and maybe I'm being a bit transparent but I hope you enjoy it

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peppersonironi · 4 years ago

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Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter 2

Next chapter for my Duke Thomas Big Bang fic is up!

(Once again, a hearty thank you to my betas @queerbutstillhereand @theycallme-ook)

Read On Ao3

It was four am on a Friday morning, a week after Duke had decided he’d had enough of Bruce’s - and the other’s - incorrect opinion of him.

It was so early in the morning, that the main group of bats had been trickling back from patrol over the past hour or so. Stephanie and Cassandra had arrived first, followed by Jason ten minutes later. Then Tim had gotten back from his route with Harper, and Kate and Bette had stopped by for a bit (but eventually left for their own homes). Dick came home next, and Bruce had returned last with Damian.

Everyone was in varying states of winding down, with Stephanie at one end of the spectrum wearing silk pajamas, a fluffy robe which Duke was sixty-seven percent sure was Bruce’s, and bright pink bunny slippers Duke was positive were Dick’s. On the other side, Bruce hadn’t even pulled off his cowl, and was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer to work on a case.

Though Duke thought that Tim deserved his own category, dressed in a strange combination of disco track suit and kevlar body armor, and was hunched over three cans of energy drinks and a quart jug filled with espresso shots.

Duke leaned down to double check that his boots were laced up - one time he hadn’t, and had then proceeded to trip and fall into a garbage pile. Not. Fun.

He looked up, however, when Bruce clicked open a case file. So did everyone else, as if drawn by some invisible force.

They all clearly saw as Bruce hovered his mouse over a link which had been typed in sometime while the big bat had been away. The only hint to what it could be was the note reading “New Evidence.”

Bruce grunted in what for anyone else would be an exclamation of curiosity and went to click the link.

Which clearly went to YouTube.

In unison, all the bats’ eyes widened in realization. You see, in a family such as this one, pranks abounded. So they all had painstakingly memorized that series of letters and numbers.

They all knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the Batcave lit up with the dancing form of one Rick Astley. It was everywhere. On the several large monitors that made up the Batcomputer. The various screens spread across the caves. Everyone’s phones somehow were affected. As well as the X-Ray machine in the med bay, which was showing a skeleton dancing.

Bruce jumped up, rage full on his face. “Who did this? Make it stop!”

No one answered, all too frozen in shock at what had happened.

“Who…” Dick whispered from beside Jason, “Who would be that brave?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered back, “Rick Rolls were banned at the 2015 family reunion after you played it two hundred and thirteen times in a row.”

Dick grinned, “those were good times.”

The two eldest boys began to bicker, Jason complaining that Rick Rolls were a part of the war crimes banned by the Geneva Convention, and Dick saying he “liked it: so there.”

Meanwhile, the song was reaching the chorus, and the other bats finally began to react. The three girls were dancing on top of exercise equipment, popping bottles of sparkling cider - or was that champagne? For their own sakes, they should hope it’s the former - they had pulled out of what seemed to be thin air.

Damian was in the corner, trying to get Titus to dance to the music - though he glanced around every so often to make sure that no one was noticing his moment of fun.

Tim was still nursing his collection of drinks like an alcoholic nursed a bottle.

Bruce was practically foaming at the mouth by that point.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

That, of course, made everyone just start laughing harder. In the corner, Steph started to do the macarena completely off-tempo from the music. Cass seemed to be chugging the cider that Harper was pouring into her mouth.

Just then the holographic training simulations lit up, and Rick Astly began making his way across the cave, dancing all the way.

Bruce glared up at the semi transparent form of the singer, as if trying to force him into submission.

“T-pose to assert dominance!” Jason called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Yeah, that’ll totally work, B! Trust us!” Dick called as well.

Bruce took a moment to turn his head and glare at the two former Robins, who only smiled like the angels they clearly thought they were.

The image was not aided by the two giant stuffed swordfish just pulled from Jason’s utility belt.

“En guarde!” He cried, and tossed the one in his left hand at Damian, who had been trying to reassure his dog that the giant man wasn’t real.

The thirteen year old screeched, but caught the four foot long fish by its fin.

“This is animal abuse!” He cried.

“It’s not abuse if it’s dead!” Jason countered, and attacked the youngest bat with a passion.

As the duel progressed, Cassandra tried to raise her hand and gurgle out a bet on who would win, but began to choke on the liquid.

Harper cursed as she tossed away the sixth bottle of cider and tried to give Cass the heimlich maneuver.

Dick, meanwhile, pressed a button on one of the many consoles spread around the cave, and several stripper poles came out of hidden storage via hydraulics. He grabbed the nearest one, and began to dance.

“I THOUGHT I DISABLED THOSE?!” Bruce bellowed, as Dick began a twirl.

Stephanie, however, didn’t seem nearly as dismayed at the sight of the poles. She herself smacked a button next to her, and several disco balls dropped down from among the stalactites to join the fun. She then began to morph her macarena into an epic macarena. A few flips here, and a few pantomiming choking your enemies there. And a whole lot of randomly throwing glitter bombs at, well, everywhere.

But especially at the nearest authority figure.

Damian tripped over a bucket during his fight - apparently left over from Alfred’s earlier cleaning spree - and the soapy liquid spilled across the floor.

But, of course, them being the bats, Alfred didn’t use normal soap.

Huge bubbles began to farm from the liquid, the longest almost three feet in diameter, and rise up to the cave’s ceiling. The suds spread around, eagerly began to mingle with Stephanie’s glitter.

A solitary bubble, relatively small, floated over to Bruce’s head, and popped on one of his cowl’s ears. He was not amused.

*****

Five minutes later, everyone was lined up next to the Batcomputer with heads bowed in either shame or disappointment.

Bruce walked up and down the row, the perfect imitation of a drill sergeant. His glare matched as well.

“This is an outrageous breach of protocol,” he was saying, “the Batcomputer is not a toy, nor something to use for your own amusement. It is a serious tool-”

“Then why’s it called the Batcomputer?”

Bruce froze and whirled on Dick, who had chosen that inopportune moment to speak up.

“Because you were nine years old and saying no to you would have gotten me a meltdown.”

“It seems to me, Bossman,” Stephanie began, tenting her fingers in an attempt to act serious (the effect was strange combined with her bathrobe and slippers) “That you are perfectly happy to let Dick get away with things. But in this situation, with women present, you are strangely cold. This shows blatant sexism on your part and in this essay I will-”

“That’s enough, Stephanie.” Bruce cut off as a round of snorts and giggle erupted from the group of bats.

“You do realise that no one here is going to speak, right?” Jason asked, “You did teach us to resist torture. And - pardon my french, Alfred - but you are no fucking way close to the level of torture I’ve gone through. Namely waking up to Batcow sitting on top of me.”

“Are you commenting on her weight?” Damian demanded, glaring daggers at Jason.

“I said no such thing.”

“ Boys .” Bruce demanded, rubbing his temples. “Jason is right - not about Batcow’s weight - but I’m not going to get any of you to talk willingly.” He paused and made eye contact with every single bat present, trying to reach into their souls.

“Therefore,” he continued slowly, “I’m giving you one last chance. Otherwise: No one gets cookies from Alfred for two months. ”

The shock was immediate. Alfred’s cookies, of all kinds, were worth more than gold in the Manor. The ability to not have them? And for two months? Bruce truly was a cruel hearted tyrant if he was willing to go to such lengths.

Duke gulped.

“Fine, then.” Bruce said simply when no one answered. “I guess we’ll just have to check the security footage of the Cave.”

Why didn’t Bruce think of that earlier? He clearly wasn’t trying to give the kids an easy way out.

Bruce stalked over to the computer and began to furiously type at the keys, pulling up the footage for the past few days. The group watched in a tense silence as Bruce rifled through the multiple recordings, searching for the culprit.

“AHA!” Bruce grunted, upon finding a specific time stamp. There was a figure emerging from the shadows. He paused and then slowed down the video so they could all see who it was.

There were several gasps as the figure came into the light, looked around, and made his way to the computer. They had shown their face, not even bothering to hide.

Everyone whirled to Duke, then back to the screen.

“No way,” Harper whispered under her breath.

Because the person on the footage, who was now adding the link to the case file and hooking up bluetooth speakers, was Duke Thomas himself.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

There was a general consensus among the resident vigilantes in the cave at that time: Duke wasn’t going to live to tell the tale.

Duke felt uneasy under their scrutiny, unsure of what to do. This was his plan, after all. To be seen differently. But so far the lack of accusations or uproarious debate was disconcerting.

He looked up at Bruce, awaiting his reaction. Bruce didn’t meet Duke’s eyes.

“Hrn,” he grumbled angrily instead and whirled on Tim. Said teenager was barely standing up straight - well, he was leaning on Steph heavily - and blinked wearily around the cave. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a long moment before he whipped around and furiously began to mess with the playback settings on the footage. Everyone stood still, not daring to move while Bruce grumbled under his breath.

Finally Bruce straightened and pointed dramatically toward the screen.

“There,” he grunted out, and everyone subconsciously leaned a little bit forward.

They didn’t see anything different from before, though Bruce’s finger did bring their attention to one of the bats that flew across the upper left hand corner. A few seconds of footage later, and yet another bat flew across in a similar pattern. Not exactly the same, so it wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Lord knows the bats would randomly fly out and into their hair much more than necessary.

“Note how the figure is disturbed when each bat flies across the screen,” Bruce said in the same voice he used when talking about a case - cold, impersonal, and yet like he was giving a college lecture.

No one spoke, not really sure what to say. I mean, what was the correct course of action when your father figure suddenly refuses to accept reality, and is grasping at the most unlikely of straws?

“I know this technique anywhere,” Bruce said more to himself than the line of vigilantes. He turned, completely passing over Duke, and set his sights on Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake,” Bruce growled, stalking forward, “What possessed you to doctor this footage?”

Tim didn’t respond, only mumbled incoherently and leaned onto Steph some more.

Bruce was furious, bearing his teeth as he spat out his response: “Now is not the time to use the anti-torture training I’ve given you.”

Tim nodded slowly and draped his arm on top of Stephanie’s head.

“You should know better than this,” Bruce began, “pranks are strictly forbidden in the cave, as you very well know. And in addition, I taught you better at framing than this. You choose a victim that could actually be considered as a suspect. Trying to pin the blame on Duke was your undoing - he would never do something like this.”

Duke cringed slightly, as the rest of the bats glanced Duke’s way. All were a mix of confusion and awe.

This … was not how this was supposed to go. No, screw that. That was an outrageous understatement. Things ‘not going according to plan’ would have been Jason randomly blaming Harper for the mess on no grounds - or maybe Bruce not bothering to check the cameras, opting instead to just ground everyone.

But blatantly ignoring evidence and then lecturing someone completely unrelated? No, this was too much. It couldn’t be real. This was some kind of scare-tactic wasn’t it? Duke was too much of an adrenaline junkie to be bothered by the usual ‘hanging upside down over a busy road’ schtick.

But then Bruce moves on to possible culprits Tim could have chosen instead - did he seriously think that Ra’s Al Ghul would Rick Roll them?! - and Duke lost hope.

“Uhh, Bruce?” Duke asked after the ten minute mark.

The Dark Knight turned and faced Duke.

Duke scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think I could head out for patrol now? It’s getting light out, and since you’ve clearly got this covered… I thought I could scoot out?”

Bruce was nodding before the end of Duke’s request. “Yes, go. I’ll deal with Tim. You don’t need to worry - you won’t be blamed. It clearly wasn’t your fault.”

Duke nodded slowly, and covered his disappointment with a small smirk. “Thanks, B.”

He jogged over to the edge of the platform and dropped down beside his Signal-Cycle. A routine mounting, a quick putting on of his helmet, and he was off.

Duke was scowling as he left, wondering what on earth had gone wrong.

*****

“Did you see that smirk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Did he blame Tim on purpose?”

“How, though? To make such a tactical move -”

“It would have taken a shit ton of planning.”

“Can we get back on the fact that Bruce was fooled?”

“Or who fooled him?!”

#duke thomas #duke thomas big bang #batfam #fanfiction #my fanfiction #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #harper row #cassandra cain #damian wayne #batfamily

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redbeansoups · 4 years ago

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Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

In which you and Kirishima have one last week together.

It is Monday morning when you buy the ticket. You request to be put on the last train.

The conductor eyes you suspiciously when you ask. He doesn’t seem to be much older than you are, though you don’t miss the near-fatherly concern in his look. “You’re sure?” he says, thumb flicking over the mouse. His cursor hovers over the available seats on the monitor; it’s an odd time to travel, it seems, because most of them appear to be unoccupied. “It’s quite a late journey–”

“I'm sure,” you affirm; he hums in response, but doesn’t question it again. The ticket is secured and printed in a matter of moments, and he slides the slip over to you. It’s printed on a slick, waterproof material, and it squeaks against your skin as your fingers take hold of it. “Thank you,” you say, giving him a curt bow.

“Of course,” the man says, and mirrors your actions as you move away.

You have until Sunday night.

It is Tuesday night when you come home to a warm hug. Kirishima’s arms are strong and wrap firmly around you, pulling your head towards his chest. He smells of something warm and cool all at once; like a winter night in the woods.

“I’m home,” you manage to mutter, your lips hardly moving against his chest. He pulls you closer and laughs at the muffled protests you make; the noise rumbles against you.

When he releases you, he’s grinning, teeth bared all at once. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says; you can tell he’s trying to restrain his excitement, because although his voice is low and casual, there’s something in his eyes that is positively glimmering.

“Really?” you say, playing along. “What could it be, I wonder?”

He chuckles, and his fingers entwine with yours. “I’ll show you!” he exclaims. In an instant, your bags are on the ground, your shoes lying long-forgotten by the door. He pulls you through the hallways and into the living room.

The lights are off; the room is lit only by a huddle of mismatched candles at the centre, each of them smelling vaguely of something sweet and spiced–cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg. The couch is littered in pillows, the majority of them stolen from the bedroom; a large, fluffy blanket sits at the center of it all, already unfurled.

On the coffee table is a bottle of wine and a collection of DVDs, each of them an old childhood favorite.

“I figured you’d need a break,” he says offhandedly, not waiting for your reaction. He beams at the setup, lips upturned at the sight. Then, his face falls into a pout. “I was gonna make a blanket fort, but Katsuki told me it’d be a fire hazard with the candles, which sucks, because that would’ve been awesome..”

You watch his expression contort in a mock disappointment, and laugh.

“It’s perfect,” you say, tiptoeing to press a kiss to his chin.

There’s a lopsided smirk on his face that you want to remember forever.

It is Wednesday afternoon when he brings you out on a date.

He says to keep it casual, and you do; since he does the same, you opt for something light and airy. You’re shocked, though, when he brings his bike out from the hallway closet. It’s an older model, its paint a deep maroon shade with a metal basket fastened at the front of it; it’s been quite some time since you’ve last seen it.

When he notices the way your jaw goes slack in confusion, he offers a sheepish grin. “Thought it’d be fun,” he tells you. “Like when we were little.” He clambers onto the seat, and pats the spot behind him.

The action is all-too familiar. You seat yourself behind him, and wrap your arms around his waist. The nighttime breeze blows through your hair as he begins to pedal, the bike shifting and building up to a solid pace.

Your face is warm against his back.

After some time, the bike comes to a gentle halt.

You don’t recognize your surroundings at first; you glance around, disoriented. You seem to be in a small neighborhood; the houses around you are on the older side, quaint with overgrown gardens. There’s a large red postbox by the corner with a tabby cat curled up atop it.

It’s only when you catch sight of the cafe down the road that your face lights up. “We’re near school,” you say, and he smiles. He parks the bike, and leads you inside.

The elderly woman by the counter lights up as you two enter, the bell chime ringing familiarly in your ears. “I haven’t seen you two in forever,” she says, the crows’ feet by her eyes crinkling upward as she welcomes you two with a smile. The two of you bow deeply to her, exchanging old greetings. She brings you to the table farthest from the door, the one just by the little windowsill. “The usual?”

“Yes, please,” Kirishima pipes, and the woman smiles, staggering away.

She emerges again with two plates in hand; she sets down a portion of curry for the both of you. “It’s good to see you two,” she says, before moving back to sit behind the counter.

The cafe is empty save for you both.

“Just like highschool,” Kirishima says, grinning.

Just like highschool, butterflies and all.

It is Thursday morning when you emerge from the closet with a stack of collapsed cardboard boxes cradled against your chest.

“Already, huh?” Kirishima says, watching as you lay them out onto the kitchen table and begin folding them one by one. He pulls out the chair beside you and seats himself, grabbing one to work on for himself; they smell faintly of something old and wet, and his nose crinkles.

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat wistfully. When you finish folding one, you throw it into a pile with the others; there’s a growing pool by the dining table that is threatening to spill into the living room. “The movers will be here in the morning.”

Kirishima lets out a sigh, long and drawn-out. It’s a rare sound for him; you’re used to hearty laughter and cheery snickers. He’s looking around your shared flat, as if to take in every detail; the potted plants by the windowsill, the books on the shelves, your framed paintings and pictures on the walls.

“Last-minute, huh?” he teases, though you can’t find it in yourself to meet his eyes.

“Nothing new,” you tell him, and continue working.

That night, as you pack away everything you’ve known, you can’t help but sigh along with him.

The flat looks to have lost its soul.

It is Friday night when Kirishima invites all your friends over for dinner. Bakugo, his self-declared best mate, is the first to arrive. He hangs his coat up on the stand by the door.

“Heard about the promotion,” is the first thing he says by way of greeting, voice gruff as per usual. “Quite a job,” he says, and you figure he’s congratulating you, so you thank him with a smile.

Jirou arrives next, dragging a shivering Kaminari along behind her. “He forgot his coat,” she explains easily, her fingers moving to unbutton her own. The man in question is pale-faced, but he offers you the best of a greeting he can, teeth chattering all the while; Kirishima bursts out laughing at the sight.

Sero and Ashido are the last to appear, the two of them donning matching suits. “Fashionably late,” Ashido tells you, flashing you her signature grin. She’s brought a bottle of something–you think it’s champagne.

“Fashionably stupid,” is Bakugo’s retort. It’s a poor comeback, but everyone laughs nonetheless.

You usher them all inside, and soon dinner is served. The champagne bottle is popped open.

It is only after dinner that Jirou pops the question.

“You two will be alright, won’t you?”

Kirishima’s eyes flit to yours. You give him a weak smile. “Yeah,” he tells her.

She doesn't look convinced, but lets the conversation drop.

It is Saturday morning when he wakes you up with a kiss to your forehead. The sun has still barely risen, the warm yellow just beginning to break through the horizon.

The room smells of something sweet; Kirishima has a tray in his arms.

“French toast,” he says, smiling as you slowly arise from your slumber and sit groggily up. He sets the tray down at the foot of the bed, and crawls gently in, so that he can sit cross-legged beside you.

He’s brought two plates in, with a glass of cold milk each. The french toast—a thick slice on each plate, just as he likes it–is perfectly square and golden-brown, the syrup poured delicately over the top. With each serving comes a handful of freshly-washed strawberries, their skin bright red and glistening.

You’re sure your grin looks crooked and dumb, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“You’re the best,” you tell him. He looks proudly down at you.

“You know it,” he says, and presses another kiss to your forehead. “There’s more where that came from, too. Wait until you see what’s for lunch.”

“Pasta?” you say, eyes shining up at him. You’ve already started to eat; the french toast is fluffy and soft and sweet, and you can’t help but let out a sigh.

He chuckles. “You’ll see.”

That day, you savor every bite of his cooking.

It is Sunday night when you bite back a sob at the platform.

He’s pressed a letter and a small box into your hands. “The box first,” he whispers, moving your fingers so that they close around them, “and the letter last.” You nod and bring the gifts to your coat pocket, careful not to let your tears fall around them.

And then his hand is on your face, thumb stroking your cheeks gently. He wipes away the tears that fall, rubbing them into your skin. You want to stay there, and take it all in; his callouses, the dips between his fingers, the way he slides over your cheekbones, the lingering smell of warm wood–

There’s a ring, followed by an automated message.

The train will depart soon.

“You’ll be okay, won’t you?” you manage to say.

“Yeah,” he croaks. He doesn’t make any attempt to hide the wince that follows.

“Eiji..”

Before you can speak again, he raises his chin, eyes looking straight into yours. You don’t fail to notice the liquid pooling in his eyes. “I’ll be okay,” he says, firmer this time.

You don’t believe him, but, after a moment, you nod anyway.

“Okay,” you breathe, allowing your hand to fall to your side. He presses one last kiss to your lips, and then does the same.

All too quickly, the warmth of his skin vanishes.

You board the train, and watch as he blurs into a splatter of red.

When the tears no longer blur your vision, you pull out the contents of your pocket, and lay them out onto your lap.

The box is a deep crimson, shiny and smooth to the touch. You lift its lid gingerly.

There’s a silver necklace within it; you lift it up, the thin metal chain cool against your skin. A small hourglass hangs at the end of it. You fasten it around your neck, shivering as it slides over your nape.

You open the letter next, sliding the cardstock out of the envelope. It’s a little thing, and far from the obnoxious cards he usually sends; you’ve long become accustomed to his cheesy, slapstick greeting cards. This, though, is something else entirely; plain and simple, an off-white, creamy toned paper.

His handwriting is neat, constrained.

I wish we’d had more time.

#goodbyes are harder when you're still in love #i really love this piece!!! it's one of my recent favorites :)#writers on tumblr #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha imagines

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crybabykiko · 4 years ago

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Temporary

Sawamura Daichi x f!reader

Warnings: none, she’s fluffy 😌

Wc: 1.04k

A/N: As part of the Secret Santa collab- MERRY CHRISTMAS @ceo-of-daichi! Lydz my dear I hope you love your secret Santa fic! It’s only fitting of me to write something like this for the one human with a PhD. in Daichi Studies, and keep true to your office theme!!! I love you sm, and hope you enjoy this as well! Xoxo -Daisyclaus 🎅🏼🎄💖

What’s a better way to waste time at work than to gossip? Probably online shopping. Luckily the day was slow enough that you could do both.

“Do you guys think I could pull this off?” You whined, beckoning over two of your favorite coworkers- at this point, they were more like your best friends. You moused over the green cocktail dress, form fitting in all the right places.

“Oh most definitely!” They both had come up behind you, one seizing the mouse and hovering over the color options.

“Don’t you think it’d look better in red?”

“Well green is a Christmas color too….”

“Why are you wearing colors anyway? Just get it in black!”

She was right, black was always the way to go. And the way the sheer parts over the arms looked, it would definitely leave you as the best dressed of the night. With 3 clicks, it was in your cart. You all mused over shoes and accessories as snow fell beyond the window of your building. You kept on looking and typing, the three of you giggling and discussing the night ahead- Christmas karaoke, department-wide white elephant, and of course, the eggnog, which was always made very special with the addition of your purse flask.

“Are you bringing a date to the Christmas party this year?”

It was an innocent question- just office chatter. Everyone at your job was talking about the yearly event. It was a hit every year, yet it always seemed like you always came up short when it came time for all your coworkers to introduce their significant others to your department head.

“This would be year three that you haven’t,” one chimed in. “I can always give my cousin a call…”

Rolling your eyes, you swiveled around in your desk chair to face them. Your coworkers were like your left and right hand, and though you adored them- they already had wonderful and adoring partners. There was no way they’d be able to know your pain in the dating pool.

“Well I haven-“

Just then, he walked past.

Back in November the mailroom at your office had hired a temporary delivery guy. It had only been a month, but the simple song and dance played out exactly the same every day: he would roll the cart up and down the floor, stopping at every department before ending at yours. Your desk always seemed to be his last stop, and without fail, he would hand you your mail with a smile and say “special delivery!” Simply put, the mystery mailman made you swoon.

You don’t know where you summoned such courage, but it flew out of your mouth without hesitation right as he stopped at your cubicle.

“I’m going with the temp!”

A palpable silence fell between everyone in the conversation. The quickness of your bold statement had your face burning as heat pricked its way down your entire body. Your coworkers gawked. Picking up their jaws from the floor they turned to face your ‘date’, whose face was just as awashed with confusion as everyone in the moment.

“Yep! We’re going together!” You continued in your most convincing voice, eyes widening in some sort of signal that he was meant to catch on to. “It kinda just happened yesterday over coffee- I offered to be his plus one since he’s so new, y’know?”

Confused, your team looked over at the temp, who was just as much of a deer in headlights as you. But god, you only needed him to play along- he could save you if he just knew....

“Um, yeah, yeah we are!”

You tried not to let out a loud sigh of relief that he was picking up what you were putting down. Your knight in perfectly pressed khakis had arrived.

“I uh- I don’t have any mail today,” he started, a hand finding the back of his head.

“I just came to um-“ he looked around your desk. He didn’t even know your name. You never found out his name! Internally, you were screaming. Your eyes darted to a name plate at your desk as you loudly cleared your throat to get his attention, your coworkers could only wait to see how this was going to play out.

“I just came to uh, to check on Y/N, and remind her that I’m going to pick her up at 7:30!”

He was saving your life. He really was a hero.

“7:30’s perfect,” you mused, pretending to scrawl your address on a sticky note. Instead, you wrote a kind ‘thank you :)’ and slid it into his pocket.

“I’ll see you then,” he replied, giving a curt wink and wave.

Almost as quickly as he was there, he and his cart were gone. Your coworkers couldn’t help but laugh at your display.

“Woooow!” One exclaimed in a whisper yell. “I didn’t think you had it in you”

“She has been talking about him for weeks,” the other snickered.

They were believing you… for now. Everything was peaceful and you were able to go back to work with silly conversations about what you’d sing on karaoke at the party, and how everyone knew you could make a better drink than any of the bartenders they would hire that night. You turned back to your desk to hit submit on your order- even if you weren’t going to go with him, you couldn’t pass up an outfit like this. Someone was going to see you in it, even if it wasn’t him. You’d started on some mundane tasks again, working to meat your pre-holiday deadline, when you’d suddenly heard your name.

It was him, yet again. He had come back your way, carrying a piece of mail. As much as you wanted to be giddy, you knew it was nothing. You were so certain it was nothing.

“Sorry, I forgot this.” He placed the envelope directly on your desk, your name scrawled across the front in messy handwriting. “Special delivery,” he commented like always- but this time there was emphasis on the special. His smile appears warmer than normal as he urged you to open the mystery letter.

‘I’d love to join you at the party. Maybe we could even grab dinner before. Send me a text! -Daichi

I figured we should know each other’s names... that’s important!

Ps, you’re going to look beautiful in that dress.”

His number was at the bottom, and a poorly drawn pine tree- the one that’s just little lines in a triangle, with a mangled star on top. You looked up at him in shock. He simply winked and walked away. As you returned to work, you couldn’t contain the heat on your cheeks or the swelling inside your chest.

Maybe, just maybe, you had witnessed your first Christmas miracle.

#secret santa collab 🎅🏼#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #Daichi x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #daisy goes uwu 🧁

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

All my love

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, intercourse), stalking, general creepiness and deception.

This is dark!Peter Parker (adult) and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is new to the big city but she has a new friend watching over her.

Note: This is my first dark!Peter Parker so please be easy on me. He has been aged up and this takes place when he’s grown up and living his spidey dreams. I’ve made him like uber creepy I think and it gets pretty eerie I think but I hope yall enjoy some Spidey.

Anyway :) Please like, reply, and/or reblog if you read. <3 Love you all.

It started on Monday. The first day of the week. Something was always bound to go awry.

You should have suspected it. Work had been too easy. The library had seen a steady flow of patrons but not overwhelming. Visitors and books alike kept you busy and time rolled by. It was just too good to be true.

You stepped inside your small apartment and bent to pick up the mail just inside. The carrier had left a deluge of flyers on your floor. You stood and shifted through the coupons and carpet cleaning service ad. There was a single bill and another unmarked envelope.

You set your purse on the coffee table and the bill too. You sat and turned the envelope in your hand. It didn't even have your address on it. You squinted and slowly slid your nail along the lip. You peeled the envelope open and slipped out the folded paper inside. It was a handwritten letter, your name at the top beside a small heart. You stared at the greeting in confusion.

You didn't know too many people in the city. You'd transferred to New York from a small town. You wanted to live on your own, like, truly on your own. You didn't want your parents just down the street or to run into the people you went to high school with everywhere you went. It was scary but in a thrilling way.

Okay, you breathed and carried on.

My darling,

You do not know me but I know you. I know your favourite cafe to get coffee by the park and the little mouse keychain on your purse. I know you like rainy days and reading in your window.

I know you're all alone. Lonely, even. I know the curves of your lips and the spark in your eye. I know everything but you don't know me.

But you can. You only need to ask me in. To leave the door open for your secret admirer.

All my love.

A bigger heart to end the letter. The paper fluttered from your fingers as you stood. You marched to the door and turned the deadbolt. You hooked the chain in place and peered through the peephole. The hall was empty.

Your heart raced and you turned to glance around your apartment. Was it a joke? Some sick prank by a neighbour? Or worse? You pushed yourself from the door and strode back to grab the paper. You crumpled it and tossed it in the bin.

You didn't sleep that night. Or the next night. Another letter greeted you after work. The same sentiments, the same paralyzing fear. You threw it away like the other and a third one arrived on Wednesday.

You didn't read that one or the one the next day. You made sure to lock the door and windows and slept with a light on and knife under your mattress.

On Friday, you were ready to crumble. You couldn't decipher or explain the odd letters. You were on desk duty; answering questions, processing fines, and registering new members.

It was close to your lunch break when the man walked in. His brown uniform and the slim box beneath his arm betrayed his occupation. The delivery man smiled as he approached your desk.

"I have a package for…" He held up his electronic pad and read your name.

"That would be me," You replied dumbly.

"I just need a signature," He turned the pad to you. "Then it's all yours."

You took the pen and signed. Sometimes packages were addressed to employees. Usually packets of forms or new labels. Nothing overly important.

The carrier handed over the small package and left you to ponder its contents. You would wait until your lunch and finish up scanning returns.

You had your usual boxed lunch; a sandwich, tea, and a granola bar. The break room was small and smelled of aged paper, like the rest of the library, with a hint of coffee.

You took the package as you chewed your turkey and rye. You peeled away the paper and slid the small box out. It wasn’t really big enough to fit the usual forms. You lifted the lid and blinked at the fold of tissue paper inside. You moved it away from the slip of fabric beneath.

You gasped and pulled away. What the actual fuck? The frilled pink panties stared back at you and you hurried to replace the top of the box. Your hands shook as you pushed the box across the table and into your over-sized leather tote.

You wrapped up your sandwich and closed up your travel mug. You’d finish your tea at the desk. You weren’t very hungry anymore. You packed up and waited for the clock to tick. You punched and returned to the services desk.

As the day wore on, you grew antsy. Every man who approached you had you on edge. Someone was watching you. Not just at home but work too.

Was it the man with the salt and pepper hair and square glasses? Or the one with pale blonde hair and the checkered shirt? Was it a man? Maybe it was the woman with her messy bun and baggy sweater.

When you left, you walked quickly to the subway. Your ears pricked at every footstep and you peeked over your shoulder every thirty seconds. You stepped onto the train and watched the strangers filter in after you. Were they watching you then?

You looked up and down the car and shivered. When your stop came up, you bolted off the train and up the stairs to ground level. Your flats scraped on the pavement as you rushed around the bodies of the New York crowds.

You slammed your buildings door and ran up the stairs two at a time. You paused as your apartment and peered along the hallway. There was no one else there. No eyes shining from the corner, no shadow looming against the wall.

You shoved your key in the door and pushed inside. You locked it behind you and your eyes bounced around the apartment. All was as you had left it. Curtains drawn, throw crumpled across the couch, your mug still on the coffee table.

You dropped your bag on the chair and paced the edge of the area rug. You spun back and neared the chair. You pulled out the box and shook as you opened it again. Beneath the panties was a red card. You fished it out and read the scrawled writing; the same found in the letters.

My darling,

It breaks my heart to see you so lonely. I hoped that I could comfort you in my absence. Let these be a poor substitute to my touch. My fingers along your skin, tickling you, caressing you fondly.

All my love.

You placed the card back in the box and closed it up. You trembled as you took it and marched into your room. You shoved it at the bottom of your drawer, to the back, so you’d never have to think about it.

You slumped on the edge of your bed and held your head. Your mind was in a flurry. Panic and anger mixed into one. Whoever was doing this was crazy. Why were they doing this to you? You rocked as you tried to focus; tried to come up with something.

Nothing. What could you do? Your tormentor was as good as invisible and in a city like New York it was hard to pick out any among the bunch. The cat callers, the beggars, the swindlers, all too obvious. This person knew how to lose themselves in the crowd. They knew how to watch while not being seen.

You sighed and fell back. Keep the doors locked and a bigger knife under the mattress. That was all you could do.

That night was as sleepless as the last. You tossed and turned and managed to doze just as the clock hit two. It was a shallow sleep. One in which you were floating too close to the surface. Shapes moved along your eyelids and your head ached. An exhaustion-induced slumber, nothing more. It was far from restful.

You woke with a start. You swore you had felt a tickle along your neck. Almost like a hand. You sat up and peered into the dark. Shadows of furniture and the glare of streetlights streaming through the window. You were alone.

But you hadn't been. You looked at the mattress next to you. The blanket was folded back and the sheets were wrinkled from occupation. You slid your fingers slowly along the imprint. The bed was still warm.

You grabbed for your phone and the knife beneath your mattress. You dialed the police as you got up and held the blade at the ready. You slowly traversed the perimeter of your room as the line picked up.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"There's someone in my apartment," Your voice was low and shaky. "I was asleep and I woke up and…s-someone's here. They've been following me."

"Okay, Miss, are they in the same room as you? Can you lock yourself in somewhere?"

"I don't know where they are," You quavered. "I can…get to the bathroom."

"Go in there and lock the door," The operator advised. "What's your address, miss?"

You gave your address as you crept into the bathroom and clicked the lock into place. You sat beside the toilet and bit your nails as you held the phone to your ear. Your eyes clung to the door, waiting for it to be kicked in.

"I have dispatched the police. I want you to talk to me until they get there, okay?"

"Okay," It was half a whisper. You held the knife at your knee and exhaled into the phone.

"Breathe, okay? They're almost there." You nodded another acquiescence and the operator talked to fill the silence. To drown out the dread.

You heard a bang. Then another. Voices followed and the distant beep of a radio. You edged over to the door and slowly unlocked it. You crept out with knife in hand, phone still against your ear.

You saw the dark uniforms and set the knife on the table inside your bedroom door. You assured the operator the police arrived and they let you go. You were tempted to hug the officers as they shone their flashlights around your small living room.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Where is the intruder?"

"I...I didn't see them but...there was someone here. I swear. I woke up...and-- come see." You sounded crazy, even to you.

The second officer flicked on the lights as the other made to follow. You led them to your bedroom and switched the lamp on. You pointed to the bed.

"S-see. Someone was in my bed." The outline was still there. "It was warm and--"

"This is the bed you sleep in, ma'am?" They shared a doubtful look.

"Yes, but on the other side. I woke and...they've been leaving letters and they sent this."

You scurried to your dresser and pulled out the box. You handed it to the first officer and he raised a brow. He took the box and opened it. He stifled a chuckle and moved the panties aside to read the card.

"Ma'am, the police aren't here to deal with your clingy exes." He jibed.

"It's not--I don't…" A tap at the window interrupted your protest.

A shadow loomed on the other side. The second officer stepped around the bed and sighed. He unlatched the window and slid it up. A figure in a red suit sat on your ledge. You'd seen him in newspapers and on television but never in person.

Spider-man swung lithely into your apartment. You were stunned.

"Saw the cars, the lights. Thought I'd check in." He said coolly.

"False alarm," The second officer crossed his arms. "Lady's ex is just tryna win her back."

"No…" You gulped helplessly and shook your head. It was no good. Why did you throw the letters away? They would see then.

"Come on, Lawson, we gotta deal with real problems." The first officer scoffed and led the other out. "In the future," He paused at your bedroom door and glanced back, "I suggest you only use the emergency line for emergencies."

The second rolled his eyes. "Best find some real criminals to bust, Spidey."

You watched them go and frowned. You turned back to the superhero still stood by your window. His head was tilted curiously but thankfully his mask hid his disdain.

“I’m sorry. I...you can go,” You said awkwardly as you crossed your arms.

You picked up the box the officer had left on your bed and shoved it back in the drawer. You turned and he was still there. You frowned.

“If you want, I can...keep an eye out.” He offered. His voice was kinder than you expected. “Just outside. Maybe camp out on the fire escape…”

“Why?”

“You look tired. And it’s pretty slow tonight. Plus, it’s my job.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You asked as you shifted your weight. “You don’t have to--”

“I do. If you’re afraid, I do. This city is mine to watch over. That means everyone. Even you.” It sounded like he was smiling but through the mask, you couldn’t see much. “So, I’m gonna plop myself on that fire escape, maybe kick the feet up, and if you need anything, you give a tap, okay?”

“But...what if somebody else--”

“Seems like the police are already on it, wouldn’t you say? One night without Spider-man, I think New York will survive. I mean, what do you think they did before me?”

You chewed your lip and thought. You looked at your bed and sighed. You were tired. The thought of sleep was intoxicating. A rare chance to rest without paranoia. In five days, sleep had become a forlorn memory.

“If it’s okay…” You ventured. “Just a few hours. I don’t want you to stay though if something happens.”

“It’ll be fine.” He assured you. “Get some sleep.” He neared the window and paused. “Uh, sorry, didn’t get your name.”

“My name?” You wondered. You figured it only made sense. Afterall, he’d be camping out under your window. You gave it to him and he nodded.

“You can call me Spidey, Spider-man, or some people call me a pest.” He hooked his leg through the window. “Your call.” He slipped out onto the escape and grabbed the pane. “Good night.”

With that, he shut the window and spun to sit on the metal platform with a creak. You stared out after him. You went to the bed and smoothed out the indent of the intruder before you climbed under the covers. He’d probably leave the minute you dozed but at least you’d be able to fall asleep.

You had Saturdays off. The interns and part-timers mostly worked the weekends. When you woke, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. You yawned and stretched as you turned your legs over the bed. A tap came at the window and you jumped. It was Spider-man.

It was an odd thought. An Avenger right outside your window. You stood and crossed to the pane. You opened it for him and he leaned through.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“Fine. Very good actually. Thank you. I can’t believe…” You blinked at the sunlight that limned his figure. “You didn’t have to stay all night.”

“But I did. And you were safe.” He countered. “Now, it’s my turn to go get some sleep.”

“Thank you.” You said.

“Never a problem. Especially for you.” His fingers tapped on the frame and he stared at you for a moment. He cleared his throat and shook himself. “Anyways, I’m tired. I should go.”

“Alright...bye.” You smiled nervously.

“Yeah, see ya.” He hesitated before he spun back and jumped up on the rail. “Don’t worry. I’ll be swinging around soon.”

With that, he launched himself off the escape and you watched as he repelled along the next building with his webs. You closed the window and ran your hands over your hair. You needed coffee.

You walked blindly into the living room and through to the kitchen. You sniffed as you set up the machine and hit brew. You leaned against the counter as you waited for the morning cure. Your eyes strayed to the door. An envelope on the floor, a single rose attached. It must have fluttered through the slot when you were asleep. Your heart skipped.

You pushed yourself away from the counter and tiptoed to the door. You bent and picked up the letter. You set aside the rose and opened it with your nail. You pulled out the paper and read it with your stomach in your throat.

My darling, I apologize if I startled you but seeing you last night was so lovely. I have missed you and could not resist a kiss. You were so peaceful I did not want to wake you. I hope you liked my gift and cannot wait to see them on you. All my love.

You dropped the letter and clutched your chest. You reached up to touch your lips and a wave of nausea threatened. He had been there and he had kissed you in your sleep. At least, it would seem he did. You shook and supported yourself against the counter.

The rose tumbled to the floor as you tried to keep from hyperventilating. You stared down at its pale pink petals and grunted. You stomped it until it was in pieces and the grind of the coffee machine matched your frustration.

Why wouldn’t they leave you alone? What had you done to draw their attention?

You leaned, out of breath and numb, against the counter. You only hoped Spidey was in the neighbourhood during their next visit, otherwise you were fucked.

He did come back. Spidey, that was. He surprised you as you sat against your headboard reading. It was a distraction to keep you awake. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping that night.

It was almost midnight when the knock came. You jumped and looked to the window. You could see his outline beneath the streetlight, the faint hint of red beneath the yellow glare. You got up and unlocked the window. He leaned against the ledge and looked around your room.

“Told you I’d be back,” He announced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just reading,” You held up your book. “Can’t sleep.”

“Oh, so then you do need me,” He commented.

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to--”

“I can’t just leave you here. Alone. Afraid. Don’t worry, you’re not getting in the way of my crime fighting style.” He assured you. “Isn’t that what I’m doing here? Keeping you safe?”

“Yeah, but…” You sighed. “It’s really not the same. I’m just one person and there’s--”

“There’s others out there doing the job better than me. The cops, firefighters, paramedics. I’m really just back up to those guys.” He argued. “Promise, if anything pressing comes up, you’ll see me diving headfirst into it, okay?”

You rubbed your neck as you thought. You really didn’t want to be alone. “Alright…” You relented. “But...I feel bad, you sitting out there. Do you wanna...um, maybe you could pull up a chair instead?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” He sounded surprised by the offer. “I mean, if it’s not too much. To be quite honest, this escape gives me a touch of vertigo and it’s not very accommodating to the tush.”

“Yeah, no problem,” You backed up and he climbed over the sill. You left him there as you went through to the living room to drag in the Ikea armchair you used more for your purse than yourself. “Here. It’s not the best but...it’s what I got.”

“I’m not picky,” He neared and lifted the chair easily and planted it in front of the window. “I’ve sat in worse.” You watched him sit and put his feet up on the window pane. “Now, get some sleep.”

That wasn't the last night the webbed crusader showed up at your window. A few mornings he even stayed for coffee. He was friendly enough and seemed to enjoy your company even if you were a bit quiet. He did most of the talking anyway.

And the letters continued to slide through your mail slot. Flowers sent to home and work alike. The ominous shadow, still unseen, always along your peripherals but never coming into focus.

It was three weeks since it began and two weeks since Spidey declared himself your personal watchman. You kept the letters in a box and made note of every occurrence. The next time the police came, you'd be prepared.

You were at work. The letter had been waiting for you there. You didn't read it. You hid it in your bag and tried to focus on cataloging. Your mind was frayed and it became harder to hold the threads together. After scanning the same book six times, you gave up.

You looked around the library. A dull Monday morning.

You went to Lois at the service desk. She had a book open before her as no patrons lined up for her help.

"Hey, I hate to do this but do you mind if I...go? I'm not feeling so hot." You asked.

"I was gonna say, you don't look so good," She joked. "Course, hun, think I can handle the hordes alone."

"I'm so sorry." You said. "Really."

"Don't worry about it, this place is about as lively as a convent." She looked back to her book. "Go on. Worst comes, I can get an intern in for extra credit."

"Thanks. I'll be in early tomorrow. Promise."

"Just go," She chided. "Before I decide I want company."

You were only too thankful to be done. You thought of adding locks to the door. on the subway. You got off and pondered finding a new apartment. It might be your only hope.

You were reassured to find your locks secure. You opened the door and closed it quietly. You paused and listened. You could hear the wind as if you'd left your window open.

You tiptoed to your bedroom and peeked inside. A familiar red-clothed back greeted you. Unaware as he stood over your dresser, a small box in hand, he rubbed the pink fabric between his fingers and your jaw dropped. What the fuck?

Your bag slipped from your hand and he turned to you. You were knocked back by the sudden force against your chest as the web sprang across your middle. You fell into the door frame as Spidey tossed the box aside. The pointed eyes of his mask rounded and he stuttered as he looked around.

As wordless as you, he darted for the window and disappeared into the sky. You held onto the wood as you gaped at the open window. You were breathless from both the suddenness of the scene and the force of the web.

You looked down and tried to peel the strings from your sweater. They were tough and clung to the fabric. You gave up and shook your head. Your entire body was rattled. Was this what shock felt like? You crossed to the window and closed it. The lock slid into place and you peered through the glass.

You were entirely confused. Was he a snoop or a pervert? His evasion would suggest the latter, as well as the way he held the panties. Had you unwittingly invited a second predator into your life? Or had you merely traded one for the other?

Yet, the first hadn’t gone. He stayed in the shadows and now his chance to jump had come.

You didn’t sleep for a week. Not truly. You napped after work when the sun was on its decline but in the dark, there was no rest to be had. Alone and terrified, you huddled on your couch under the light of a lamp. You tried to read, but your mind was too frazzled for that. Then you’d just stare at the wall and doze off only to jump awake in a moment.

It wasn’t just the fatigue wearing on your mind. It was the incessant letters, the unwanted gifts, and now, texts. Nothing was yours anymore. You waited every night for the lock to break and your stalker to stroll in with knife or rope.

Then there was the loneliness. You didn’t realize how accustomed you had grown to the nocturnal visits. Spidey had become a stalwart of your nightly routine. You missed his shadow in the chair, staring out over the city. But you couldn’t help but wonder why he had been snooping around in your underwear?

Maybe you couldn’t trust anyone in this city. Maybe you should go back home to the old library with the church bell. A place where you had family to look over you and not some fantastical superhero.

You flinched as the coffee table buzzed. You looked over as your phone lit up. You blocked the first number. And the second. The third. The fourth. You lost count. It didn’t matter, they found a way. There was no barrier strong enough to keep them away. Definitely not your old front door with it rusty chain lock.

You ignored the vibration. You held your head and grumbled. Another buzz. And a another. You grabbed your phone and looked at the notifications.

Private number: Darling, are you okay? Private number: You haven’t answered me. I am beginning to worry for you. Private number: You should sleep, darling. It is late and you look so tired.

You hit silent and slammed the phone down. You were shaking. You looked around, the streetlights shone as they always did, and the speckled windows of other buildings mirrored the stars. You stood and let the thin throw fall back on the couch.

You stormed over to the window and ripped it open. You poked your head out and looked up and down the fire escape. No one. And yet it was as if they could see you. You grunted through your teeth and gripped the window sill.

“What do you want from me?” You shouted into the night. “Just leave me alone!”

The fire escape creaked and a spot appeared in the corner of your eye. You yiped and pulled back and grabbed the window. A hand kept it from closing; the patterned red fabric revealed its owner. Spidey held the window and bent to look through.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” He said. “I...Are you okay?”

“No,” You crossed your arms. “I’m not.”

Silence rose between you as he perched outside your window. He hung his head and scratched his chin in thought.

“I am sorry, you know? I didn’t...I was only being nosy. It wasn’t--” He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have touched your stuff, I was only curious, you know? About why you were so scared.” He leaned on the pane. “I understand if you can’t forgive me but I had to at least apologize.”

You thought. You swallowed as the words bubbled in your throat. What had he really done but rifle through your dresser? He shouldn’t have done that, yes, but perhaps you had been quick to condemn. What had he done to earn such snap judgement? He had sat in your window and kept you safe for weeks. He had saved the city time and again and you were mad because he dared to open a drawer.

“You could’ve asked.” You dropped your arms. “I guess...I can’t be mad forever.”

He perked up. If you could see behind the mask, you were sure he was smiling.

“I can stay out here for the night but...you look like you need some peace. Some sleep.” He remarked.

“No, don’t stay out there.” You relented. “And thank you. I do need the sleep. I haven’t...You don’t have to--”

“Consider it my penance,” He carefully climbed through the window, almost hesitant to come inside. “Promise you, these fingers may be sticky but they will keep to themselves.”

“We’ll see,” You kidded and he closed the window.

“Now, young lady, I think it’s time you get to bed,” He said playfully. “I’ll take first watch.”

You chuckled and led him into the bedroom. The chair was still by the window. You were reluctant to move it back. Moving it would mean you were completely alone. You sat on the bed as he moved through the dark. He stopped by the chair and turned to you as you pulled back the blanket.

“Should I tuck you in or…” You raised a brow and he laughed. “I’m joking. I do that when I’m...nervous.”

You blinked at him. Spider-man, nervous? Around you? You smiled. “It’s fine.” You yawned into your hand.

“Sleep,” He rounded the chair and sat, “I mean it. You know sleep deprivation can kill.”

“Gee, so optimistic,” You laid back on the pillows and pulled the blanket up. “Thanks. Really.”

“Enough of that.” He warned. “Sleep. Please.”

He watched you as you snuggled into the mattress. He didn’t look away even as you rolled onto your side. Through the dark you could feel his gaze. Despite the apology, the forgiveness, the jokes, it felt different. There was something off but your tired mind just couldn’t piece it together.

You slept so heavily, all traces of consciousness slipped from you. Your dreams were filled with hazy sunlight and muted tones. There was no story line, only a kaleidoscope of colours. It was like a river washing over you, cleansing you. All the sleep you had lost weighed you down until it felt like chains were hooked on wrist and ankle.

Your eyes opened slowly. Your head felt full of cotton and your mouth was dry. There was an unusual warmth beside you. You forced your eyes open and looked over. A man you’d never seen before laid there. Reddish brown hair and delicate but stony features. His brown eyes met yours and he smiled.

You did know him. He still wore the suit, only he had disposed of the mask. Your heart leapt and you tried to shake the sleep from your head. Were you still dreaming?

“Good morning, darling,” He sang as his fingers ran along your cheek.

“What are you--” You batted away his hand. “What did you just call me?”

“Shhh,” He sat up as you did.

His hand clamped over your mouth as he hushed you and his other arm snaked around you. He drew you close. It was hard to believe this was the man behind the mask. He was still boyish and yet there was something darker. Something simmering beneath the surface. You whimpered as he clung to you.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, darling.” He cooed.

That word again. You tensed and your eyes searched the room. Was this really Spidey? Or had another snuck in and took his place?

“You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t resist. So long watching, it becomes harder to stay away.” He bit his lip and leaned in. He dragged his nose along yours as he spoke, his break hot around his hand. You trembled. “Please don’t be afraid. I’ve only watched over you. To keep you safe. To keep you company. You looked so alone.”

You murmured into his hand and he held you tighter. You brought your hands up to push against him and he sighed.

“I won’t hurt you. Ever.” He promised as your eyes widened. “Please know that.” He smiled sweetly and leaned back. “So please don’t scream.”

He slowly removed his hand from your mouth. You stared at him. Your eyes burned and your heart hammered in your ears. You opened your mouth to shriek. His fingers flicked and you were once more smothered. The thick webs covered your mouth and you reached up to pry them away.

He caught your hands and held them away from your lips. “I don’t want it to be like this, darling,” He said. “I’d love to kiss you and those webs won’t make that easy.” Your voice was smothered as you tried to argue and his grip grew tighter around your wrists. “Have I hurt you?”

You blinked and lowered your brow. He hadn’t but he hadn’t been honest either. This whole time it had been him. Watching you, following you, taunting you. And he had sat in your bedroom and pretended to be your protector. You were a fool.

“I have only been good to you. And you would throw out my letters and spurn my gifts.” He tutted. “Wallowed in your loneliness.”

You tried to pull away and he tugged you closer. He got up on his knees and forced you onto your back. He climbed over you and straddled you to the bed. He released a hand and held the other against a bar along the headboard. He webbed it in place and grabbed the other. You tried to wiggle free but he caught you easily.

You kicked as your wrists were restrained above you. Your cries dampened by the webs across your lips. His fingertips tickled your neck and he framed your face with his hands. He smiled down at you. You squirmed helplessly as he squeezed his thighs to your sides.

He shot his hands out behind him. Your feet were caught in the webs that wrapped around the end board. You were entirely at his mercy. He inhaled deeply and carefully got off of you. His eyes ran the length of your body and you pulled against the restraints. It made no difference.

He turned and opened the dresser drawer. He pulled out the same box and opened it. He held up the panties.

“I was sad you didn’t wear them.” He bemoaned. “A nice colour on you.”

You grunted and looked to the ceiling. It felt as if the walls were closing in. Your body was covered in goosebumps and yet you couldn’t stop sweating.

“It’s okay. We can save them for a special occasion.” He tucked them back beneath the tissue paper. “I just want us to enjoy this, darling. Let’s not worry about anything else.”

You glanced down at your body. The loose pajama shorts and camisole were poor protection. You hadn’t thought much of it in the dark. Now the morning light glowed in the window frames and limned along every fold and wrinkle.

“I was patient. I really was but...it’s time, darling. You and I are meant to be together.”

He reached back and his suit fell slack. He lowered it down his arms and stepped out of it with ease. He was lean but muscular, his shoulders broader than most of him. He wore little black briefs beneath the suit. He brought a knee up onto the bed and looked over your body.

“It’s a big city. Dangerous to be alone here.”

He moved between your legs and his fingers grazed your thighs. His tongue peeked out between his teeth. He purred and leaned over you, his hands on either side of you. He bent and pressed his lips to yours. You could feel him through the webs.

He brought an arm up next to your head and caressed your hair. He pulled away and his brown eyes sparkled. “You’re so beautiful.” His other hand brushed your hip and his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your camisole. “I love you, darling.”

You grimaced and he kissed you again. He dragged his lips along your cheek and down your jaw. His hand grazed your stomach and chest. He groaned. He doted on your neck and shoulders. He pushed your camisole up your torso and you flinched as he bared your chest.

His hands covered your tits and he buried his head between them. His mouth explored with fervour as his fingers kneaded tenderly. He took a nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. He nipped but did not bite. Firm but not rough.

You tensed as he moved lower down. He left a trail along your stomach as his hands hugged your hips. He nuzzled against the cotton shorts and pulled aside the loose crotch. You felt his breath along your vee and shivered.

He teased along your thighs, teeth and tongue. You winced as it sent a tingle along your spine. His fingers rubbed along your lips and he pushed them apart. You gasped but it made no sound. He ran his middle finger over your clit and replaced it with his tongue. You pushed your head back as the sensation intensified.

His mouth made you wet. You were ashamed as the heat began to gather in your core and he tasted your arousal as it rose. He suckled and lapped carefully. Every flick, every swirl, deliberate. His hand stretched over your thigh and he hummed in delight. He lifted his head, you couldn’t look at him.

“You’re delicious, darling.” He keened and you closed your eyes.

He dipped his head down again and you spasmed. His tongue danced along your clit and slid between your folds. Your head lolled back and forth. You were dizzy from the shock of it all. Your thighs tensed and your curse was muted by the webs. You were breathless as you came. Surprised by the sudden rush as it left you weak.

“See,” He parted and looked up at you. You opened your eyes, a blur of tears and splendour. “I only want to love you.”

You arched your back and pulled against the webs. It was a paltry attempt. Your last act of pride as he moved closer on his knees. He rolled his briefs down and you blanched. You looked to the ceiling again as the mattress shifted below you.

He bent over you again, his arm bent under yours as he kissed you. He cradled your cheek as he felt around with his other hand. He pushed his cock past your pajamas, the fabric pressed against your thigh, and dragged the head along your folds. You squirmed and he gripped your chin.

You opened your eyes as he poked along your entrance. He stared down at you as he pushed inside and you tried to speak through the webs. He sank, deeper and deeper, his mouth slowly opened in a silent gasp. He shuddered and paused as he bottomed out.

“Oh god,” He whispered, “Oh.”

He pressed his lips to the web. He began to move slowly. His hips rocked against you in a gentle rhythm. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to steady your breathing. He felt much bigger than you expected.

You tried to resist the echo of your orgasm as it began to build again. You whined through your nose as his lips left yours. He hung his head next to yours and nibbled at your throat. His pace mounted a little at a time. He groaned and grunted into your skin.

He pushed himself up and grabbed your hips. His thighs were firm against yours as he worked into you. His flesh clapped loudly and you looked down at him. His muscles flexed as he watched himself fuck you. He was rabid as he admired the way his cock slid in and out of you. The sight spurred him on as he pounded into you harder with each thrust.

“I can feel it. You gonna cum?” He snarled as his pelvis jerked against yours.

You hit your head against the bed as your pussy tightened around him. You couldn’t fight it. The feel of him against your walls. The fire crackling within as it licked at your flesh. He pressed his thumb to your clit and you spasmed. It was enough to send you over the edge again.

“Oh, oh,” He slammed into you and slid his hands around to lift your ass. The angle let him even deeper. “I’m gonna--”

He exclaimed and you felt him cum. He coated your walls and it eased his last few thrusts. He rode out his climax and his head fell back as he panted. He brought his hands around to your hips and down your thighs. He caressed you as he caught his breath.

“Darling, that was…” He sighed as he smiled down at you. “Perfect.”

#dark!peter parker #peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man #dark peter parker #mcu #marvel #fic #dark!fic #au #darkverse #dark!verse #dark peter parker x reader

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1275

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? We open all our presents the night of Christmas Eve to begin with; but no, they don’t tease by letting us open a few of them before our usual schedule.

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose? If I could change blouses to shirts, then I would go with that because I’ve recently gotten into t-shirts and sweatshirts and no longer the trendy and preppy tops I used to like haha. But if not, I would go for shoes.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc? It varies as it depends on how much I cried. The harder I cried the more I’d want to sleep it off, because it can actually get pretty exhausting. Sometimes I’ll reach out, sometimes I write. It’s really different every time, but at the end I’m just glad I can no longer even remember the last time I cried out of sadness.

Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term? Well we know the answer to this. It’s satisfying to notice him disappear off the face of the Earth immediately after his term, though. I don’t have a clue what he’s up to now.

Last time you felt suicidal? For some reason I felt down last Thursday and I felt the slightest, slightest tinge of suicidal thoughts. No idea where it came from.

Last time you had butterflies? Ugh idk but it was probably BTS-related hahahahahahah

Biggest asshole you know? Certain politicians.

Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them? No, I was on the opposite side of the coin for this one. I was broken up with because they believed they would hurt me, if not already doing so.

What song did you last listen to? Hip Hop Phile by BTS.

Ever ridden in a police car? Nopes.

Ever witnessed a murder? Hmm, not that I can recall. I do remember having to monitor crime stories for one of my very first journalism assignments and the one time I didn’t tag along to the fieldwork with my classmates, they got to witness a stabbing incident :/ By itself of course it always sucks to have violent situations like those, but as a reporter it would’ve been interesting to see the scene and its aftermath.

Have you ever lied under oath? I don’t think so, no. I can’t even remember the last time I was put under oath.

Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve failed exams but never an entire class.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? No.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Well yeah, I dated one.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Sure.

Have you ever been to a movie that sold out? I’ve never experienced trying to buy tickets only to find out they’re all sold out, but that’s also probably because we have hundreds of malls in Manila alone and you can always find a theatre that are still offering tickets.

What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep? I’m not usually that way with horror movies, but I do remember running into a jumpscare on TikTok while I was scrolling at 3 AM. Not fun.

When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad? Touchpad. I never use a mouse.

What’s your mom’s mom’s name? Agnes.

Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like? I’m not interested in anyone so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Have you ever been tempted to steal? Sure, but the urge is never so strong.

What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? I’m not reading anything.

Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? Nah. I did have a Ben&Ben phase, though I haven’t revisited their music in a long time.

Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself? I’m not sure about completely naked, probably still my ex. As for partially naked, my dad sometimes goes shirtless at home as most Filipino dads do lol.

Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? The most iconic for me would be that porcupine looking ass from Resident Evil 4, I believe it was meant to be for one of the boss stages or something. Anyway, it’s memorable for me just because that fucker had been impossible to defeat and I loved watching my older cousin do attempt after attempt. I don’t think he ever got to beat him and by the time he did us cousins were already adults, lol.

On a side note, we called him ‘Porcupine’ as kids since a shitload of spikes would stick out of him unpredictably during the boss stage, and I thought that nickname had been just our thing; but I’m actually surprised that that villain actually comes up when you do a simple ‘Resident Evil 4 porcupine’ search haha. I guess other people called him the same thing too.

What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? I usually put on a playlist of BTS’ rapline; I tend to enjoy high-energy songs while driving.

Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I don’t see why I wouldn’t when it comes to the dog. I don’t want a cat or rat.

All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with? G.

What did you and your ex fight about most? It was about the deeper, more profound stuff. We never saw eye to eye about the future, if we were helping the other grow, etc. Someone was always scared or insecure about something that the other could never help with fixing.

Don’t you love long hugs? Sure, I love getting hugs as long as I’m comfy around the one giving it.

And long kisses? Mhm, they’re nice.

Have you ever purchased condoms? Only for Angela when she had still been too shy to ask for it herself.

Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No. We had gone out of town for daytrips, but never for a fully-decked out vacation.

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? I wouldn’t do anything that loud. My resentment’s a lot more reserved and subtle, definitely on the passive-aggressive side.

Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? If I left like a paint scratch, no. If I was somehow stupid enough to manage wrecking the car then yes.

Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? Oh that’s just gross. No. I do remember unknowingly parking over a spot meant for the handicapped once just because the paint was so fucking faded. It was genuinely so hard to tell but in the end I ended up just getting out of the spot and looked for another just to be on the safe, unassholey side.

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? Not at all! I love telling people I work in PR and sharing the brands I work with...it’s just a bitch trying to explain what exactly it is I do on a normal day. I’m still blanking out on it now that I’m thinking about it, haha. PR’s a challenge to summarize in one or two sentences.

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? I honestly have no clue how I’d deal with it. Ideally I would pull over and help bring it to the side of the road, and try to ask for help from passersby as well. I’m still not sure what I should/would do next.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants always seem to carry a pleasant, date-y atmosphere to them, so any of those cuisines should be ok. I also like quieter restaurants with warm yellow lighting, since that makes me feel at home the most. The place definitely doesn't have to be super popular; I would just want for it to serve good food.

What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue? Flying planes.

What would be the most amazing adventure to go on? Probably something that’s booked with thrill-seeking adventures? Like a day of wakeboarding, paragliding, skydiving, riding an ATV...I would be exhausted as fuck and sleep for the next three days, but I can’t even begin to imagine how fun it would be.

When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. < Yeah, essentially. My friends ask me for general life advice too.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? Yeah. But I always defended her.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? I mean I’ve written long letters, but I haven’t made a poem or song for anyone.

Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? These days it would probably be Arlan. He just finished his Masters in Journalism at Columbia and I couldn’t be more proud. I remember wanting to attend Columbia too, but seeing how my love of journalism turned out...I’ve long accepted the fact that that route was not meant for me, hahaha.

What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Finish a painting, which can also serve as a callout to me lol.

What would you rate 10/10? Seafood.

What do you hope never changes? My relationships with my best friends.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? No, I barely have a clue who she is and she seemed decades older when she called me up this morning.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to? I’m good.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now?

Are you happy with your relationship status? Yessssssss. I love not having to worry about another person to spend on LOL

When did you last cry? What for? Two Saturdays ago. The one-year mark of my breakup had been coming up and an overwhelming wave of emotions just flooded me all of a sudden, I guess. There was happiness and relief from not being stuck in it anymore; feeling sorry for myself as I remembered the turmoil and deterioration I went through in the latter part the year; anger for the shit she pulled; and there was also just the general feeling of being grateful that I’m still here after everything.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love?

When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone? No clue. I’m not holding my breath for it and that’s okay.

Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently? Yeah, unfortunately I’ve always been surrounded by at least one person who terrifies me.

What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself? Nothing more than a day. That’s something I have yet to try out.

Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like? Athenna was relentless in her insults. I dunno why I was friends her for as long as I was.

Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like? If they’re some random person on the internet with disgusting political views, then yeah; but it’s just thoughts I keep in my head and I never verbalized the bullying. But not anyone in real life. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?” If I’m friends with the person I’ll banter with them for a bit until I give in for a hug. If it was any other guy I barely know...I would be disgusted and throw them the dirtiest glare.

Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. < LOL same. Anyway no, not these days. I used to but they’re not really a part of my personal style anymore.

Who are you the most uncomfortable around? Relatives with the wrong political views.

Who has your heart? Nobody.

Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? I don’t see the point. No.

Are you impatient with really shy people? If it gets to the point that they seem aloof and radiate very I-could-not-care-less-about-getting-along-with-any-of-you vibes, then yeah I feel like I would get irritated pretty fast. But I was an extremely shy person once too, so I’m typically friendly with them and I would usually be That person who constantly stays next to them so they feel like they belong.

Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window? It sits in the window, as with most households here.

What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently? I haven’t encountered anything wacky recently.

Would you ever get a fashion mullet? No.

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? No.

Do you believe in spiritual gifts? No.

Do you believe in callings? Not really, no.

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? Hell no. I get extremely sheepish in front of a camera and a thousand times worse at posing.

#survey #surveys

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a-dorin · 5 years ago

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youth | the zabrak brothers

a/n: i recently got an anon asking about the zabrak brothers in high school and college! so i am going to be answering their question! sorry if i got carried away with the headcanons! enjoy :))

high school

all three boys weren’t together in high school until maul & feral were freshman, while savage was a sophomore

they attended an elite private school on dathomir, a costly institution that prepared students for higher education

it was run by the nightsisters, a religious group of women

so, the boys all had to wear uniforms that consisted of:

grey or black slacks

polished dress shoes

a black, navy, or burgundy blazer with the school’s logo stitched on the pocket

a freshly pressed tie

sometimes, there were “casual” days

where the boys could wear khakis with a black, navy, or burgundy polo

maul was the one who broke dress code the most

he either refused to wear the tie, always left the top buttons undone, wore his silver chain (”no visible jewelry allowed”), and painted his nails black (”no nail polish allowed on boys”)

as predicted, the brothers got into trouble constantly

whether it was arriving late to class, cursing, or brawling with one another, the brothers were sent to the dean’s office often

one time, maul prepared a speech discussing the importance of “knotting in the male zabraki species” (this was a speech performed in chemistry class) and when the teacher suggested he go to the dean’s office, a devilish smirk painted his features

“perhaps you would like to see the knot yourself, mrs. zula?” (mrs. zula was a strict, older, batty nightsister)

needless to say, maul was the troublemaker of the group, with his main talent consisting of his sharp tongue and quick wit

savage was your typical athletic type: involved in more than one sport, it was his only extracurricular, he would weight lift in the morning before class started, then practice for hours after school

savage’s favorite sport was wrestling, and he was quite good at it. he tried saber wielding, but the sport was too technical, too strategic. wrestling is similar, but savage excelled at it due to his perseverance and brute strength

feral was involved in a variety of athletic activities: student council, debate team, scholastic bowl, baking club, peer mentoring, as well as the theatre troupe. he was also an active participant in art club

on the other hand, the only activity maul tended to really enjoy was saber wielding, as he had started the sport at a young age

although all of the boys were involved in different activities, they all actively supported one another

even if savage was sweaty and exhausted from wrestling or track practice, he would swing by the school’s auditorium, making it just in time for the latest fall play or spring musical

maul always saved a seat for savage

and the boys always brought a bouquet of flowers for every performance, just for feral

at home wrestling meets, maul would buy a decently sized portion of the bake sale table (which always earned a wide, bright, grin from feral)

savage and feral had a tendency to be the loudest at saber competitions. feral typically brought a freshly painted/drawn sign with a cheesy slogan (maul is number one! or maul will make you bawl!)

savage and maul were exceptional athletes, earning championship titles

yes, their plaques and photos are still on the walls to this day

since maul was a saber wielder, he was quite popular with girls. it is such a competitive and grueling sport, so many girls crushed on him

however, he paid no mind, either just entertaining the flirting or paying no mind to it

which, savage often gave maul shit for

“the ladies are practically drooling over you”

“i’m not interested in any of them. they just want me for my saber”

even though they were all apart of diverse friend groups, the brothers would always sit by one another at lunch, chatting about their days

and no matter how horrible of a day they were having, the laughter and smiles couldn’t be contained at the lunch table

there were other little moments too

like all three piling into savage’s beat up honda civic to carpool, early in the morning

feral and maul would snooze in the car while savage lifted weights before class

or helping one another get ready for homecoming and prom, straightening ties or smoothing out wrinkles in suits (cue feral frantically running around the house in his boxers the morning of prom, steamer in his hand)

the boys never really had girlfriends or boyfriends in high school, they had one another, and that was enough

at savage’s graduation, the twins were emotional, gazing at their older brother with nothing but adoration, eyes glossy with tears

savage was the class of 2005, on his way to mustafar central on a wresting scholarship

their last summer together as a trio was bittersweet.

even if maul and savage bickered, feral knew in his heart that it pained maul to see savage go

when maul received his scholarship offer his senior year, feral engulfed him in a massive hug, while savage hollered on the phone

at his signing, they were the proudest donning their “mustafar central” gear with pride (savage even came home from the midst of his freshman year to show his support)

feral brought a cookie cake, while savage brought the balloons

tears brimmed maul’s eyes when feral opened the admission letter, and savage was on the phone, eagerly anticipating the news

the whole house shook as yells of joy echoed through it

even though feral believed that savage wouldn’t be able to make it to his last spring musical (it was beauty and a beast that year) savage was able to make it

needless to say, feral was very surprised when he emerged from the dressing room, his older brother standing there with a bouquet of flowers

“what can i say? i couldn’t miss it.”

at the twins’ graduation, savage sat in the bleachers, the camcorder shaky as he bawled (savage was a crybaby that day)

maul and feral were apart of the class of 2006

feral on his way to a culinary school in coruscant (his dream school!)

while maul had his scholarship with mustafar central, training to be a professional athlete with a major in exercise science

college

college was a completely different ballgame for the brothers

even though they were separated, they messaged one another constantly, whether it was texting (texting was starting to become extremely popular) or through myspace

mustafar central was not a large university, the enrollment about 6,500 students

meanwhile, feral was at a well-known culinary school in the heart of coruscant, where there were about 1,000 students at his college

often, feral joked that maul and savage were the “country mice” while he was the “city mouse”

from the beginning, maul was beyond elated by the sheer amount of freedom he was given

he was able to expand his style, go out and party, and the best of all, maul grew as a person

he socialized more, gaining a large social circle

since savage was a wrestler and maul was a saber wielder, they had completely different schedules

yet, they carpooled together for target or walmart runs

they ate together in the dining hall when they could

however, there were mandatory dorm visits, where savage would help maul with the science classes he was struggling with, while maul helped savage with english and social science courses

“how are you a stem major yet cannot use grammar”

“before you go and chastise me, how about we discuss your organic chemistry grade?”

when he could, feral would travel to mustafar, surprising maul or savage at their meets

maul and savage did the same, popping in at feral’s apartment unannounced, bringing pick-me-ups and other odds and ends

savage would have maul tag along to parties, as savage was actively involved in a frat

maul had a knack for strategy, so he often was the champion of beer pong, calculating who would be his best partner, along with what angle would give him the best shot

the best part of college for the brothers though, was the reunion during breaks

they loved catching up with one another, sneaking in alcohol and sharing all of the stories that came to mind

their favorite spot was on the rooftop, gazing at the stars

life in college was good for the zabrak brothers

it was healthy for them, as they all got to explore their individuality even more, but give one another support and love while they found themselves

when feral came out to his brothers at the end of freshman year, maul and savage said nothing, but rather scooped him into their arms, in a massive cuddle pile

his junior year, maul was gaining traction as a saber wielder, becoming well known across the galaxy

he was undefeated, reigning victorious over not only obi-wan kenobi, an infamous saber wielder from university of corsucant, but countless others as well

savage was winning world championships, beginning to train for the galaxy title

feral was content at his college, earning all sorts of praise, his dream of a bakery becoming more and more of a reality

although, one fateful evening, their lives were forever changed

*****

tagged: @sapphicstars @maulieber @starflyer-104 @alwayshappysith @doobiwankenooku @magicalkitkat12 @dartheldur @princessayveke @multifandombtch @spaghetti-666 @lis-ard @swimmingsloths @sithmando @mother-0f-monsters @bonniewinchester @bonesaldente @maidofsionis @bespectacled-bunny @arsonistvoyager @tinalbion @nottodaysatan-8866 @vei-saretti @maybe-your-left @isabewwwa @aki-iko @corrupt-fvcker @ranoutofideas71

#darth maul #professor!maul #feral #savage opress #savage #zabrak brothers #headcanons #star wars

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ikeromantic · 4 years ago

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Love and Lessons

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Plots and Plans

Mitsuhide Akechi fluff fic/vignette, around 600 words

The chatelaine bent over her texts, lips moving silently as she read the words. Mitsuhide watched, though he pretended to look to his own notes. Her lips were light pink, he thought, like cherry blossoms. Heart shaped, and sweet when she smiled. When she frowned. When she laughed. She brushed her hair back from her cheek, a careless gesture. Simple. Precious.

It made Mitsuhide want to gather her into his lap and run his hands through the soft strands himself. A silly thing to want, he told himself. It would never happen. But it hurt nothing to indulge his imagination sometimes.

She looked up from her text, brows drawn down in thought. She wasn’t seeing him or the room they sat in. She was seeing someplace else, a place the words opened up to her. He loved seeing her expressions of wonder or surprise. It made teaching her entertaining. This face spoke of deep thoughts, internal conflict.

Unable to help himself, Mitsuhide reached over and patted the top of her head. It was the only touch he would allow himself today. Anything else would bring more unwelcome thoughts. But her hair was so soft, and her eyes, when she looked at him, were so bright and full of life.

“Were you in all those battles too?” Her eyes focused on him and he was struck again by her beauty.

With some effort, he looked back down at his papers. “If you don’t know, you should probably keep reading.”

The chatelaine frowned at him. “The clans that rose up against Nobunaga -”

Mitsuhide interrupted her. “You don’t need to tell me about it. Just read.”

“I was until you interrupted me.”

“You were staring off into space.”

Her frown softened. “I was just thinking it must have been hard to live through so many battles, so much death.”

“It could have been much worse. Every action the Oda clans have taken are for the best. If they were not, I -” Mitsuhide stopped. Why was he wasting time, justifying his support for Nobunaga? “War is a constant companion, little mouse. If you are so distressed, perhaps you need a break.”

She stretched her arms high and made a little sigh of satisfaction. “I would love a tea.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Have one brought to us. After a short break, you can resume your studies.” He watched her without lifting his head as she went about sending for snacks. She was clearly tired. From his reports, after her history lessons and target practice, she was still helping the maids with cleaning, shopping, and other tasks.

It was a lot for a delicate flower to take on. Too much, perhaps. She needed a day of rest. Not tomorrow, as he’d already planned to teach her horse riding, but the next day. That would work for him as well. There were errands to run in town and letters to send. Things he’d been putting off to spend time in her company.

“Are you watching me, Mitsuhide?”

“I am only wondering how you’ve lived this long knowing so little.” He lifted his head to laugh as she scowled. “It’s alright, little mouse. I am only teasing. Why don’t you try to finish that chapter while we wait?”

“I know plenty,” she mumbled, bending back to her reading. That loose bit of hair fell against her cheek again.

Mitsuhide almost reached for it. Almost.

Next: Sweet Reward

Screenshot from route

#ikesen #otome #ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #fanfiction #fluff

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floraisondiadem · 4 years ago

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anya taylor-joy. cis female . she/her . wasn’t that anastazija gaskell walking the palace grounds ? it’s nice to see the apprentice apothecarist out and about on such a fine day as this. I’ve heard from the court spies that they notoriously abstruse, whilst also managing to be quite percipient. the twenty-six year old is eager to find out who exactly is behind the killings from what’s being said at court. I heard that they themselves aren’t vrajiit. it’s funny, whenever I think of them, I think of fingertips sinking into the dirt into the earth with a nurturing hand likewise scrubbing bloody hands raw in the sink; heavy choked feeling of tears as you fulfill your duty unhesitatingly, the scent of hyacinths in the air, and laughter stretching the lips wider than a smile would. great to see the vivus around, isn’t it ?

⇢ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍;

full name: anastazija gaskell meaning: ❛ resurrection , valorous ❜ nickname(s) | aliases: anja, tasi, ana | none, though she tends to steal her mentors title occupation; current | former apprentice apothecarist | ( adequate, mainly knowing alteration and repair ) seamstress home: wenchinka martial affiliation: unattached. pansexual. affiliation | alignment: herself, her home | chaotic neutral disposition { positive }; percipient, venturesome, jovial disposition { negative }; abstruse, grasping, impish notable physical traits: too much usage of experimentation in the greenhouse of her mentor has caused irreparable damage to the veins in hands trailing upwards to the wrist and barely reaching further up arm in a fade, coloring them ink-like and prompting her to wear lace gloves to cover the scaring within.

tw: mention of child abuse, tw: mention of death

✧ a cherubic faced child with lightened curls and a sharp glint to her eye of a propensity to mischievous intent was anastazija gaskell, brought into this world by the thin bony hands of a midwife as another name and soul to add to the list of children residing on the feral side of life once age molded her. a terror to her parents, only briefly before illness and war had separated them; and then after her transference at the age of five to a destitute caretaker as no family members remained nor desired her and the womans' three cruel, not of mirrored likeness children who stole food from her plate and bit with unhygienic teeth, plagued them with the same treatment despite the beatings, despite the threats of being drowned in a barrel for being wasted flesh. too many mouths to feed the woman would say with eyes clear of guilt as if that justified murder, anastazija would snarl back. as if she was the responsible oldest meant to take care of the family that was not her own.

✧ ana volunteering up the other children as if laying them out on a silver platter with an ingenuous mordacious smile earned her nothing but an empty stomach for days and bruised skin, an ache settling deep in her heart of familial yearning due to the horrid yet strange behavioral protective stance taken towards the other abandoned offspring. took to working for the village seamstress to keep hands and mind busy, to keep the woman’s words from becoming anything but empty—gave way to days upon days with minutes to hours eaten up and fingers punctured by a needle in repeated trial and error. thankfully her attentions were vulturine to detail, marking her valuable. a word that left lips constantly, in repetition, even before little ana knew of it’s entirety; and so she grew sick of stomaching it.

✧ eventually did a cloaked in grey man came to the fraying village where life was not meant to flourish and yet the people remained, prospered. a wise man, an apothecarist, titled asclepius with a boy named eurus, around the age of twelve to her age of thirteen trailing behind then beside with a softened order once the serrated gazes and the mouths eager to feast began as they walked, offered their hands to those that required care. vrajiit blood contained in veins making their visit a quick gust of wind likened to a whisper.

✧ the woman could have become a storyteller, the caretaker, of who’s name anastazija couldn’t quite recall, yet that white hair drawn into a stern bun and onyx eyes that could swallow the stars rooted itself so deeply into her memories she can never escape it’s haunting. she weaved an elaborate tale with hand gestures and sweet as summer wine tone, too much teeth showing in smile. seeding more resentment in the child’s heart that anyone could toss another aside for the clink of coins inside a pouch. comparable to buying ingredients at market. eurus's hand was gentle when it hugged hers, both gazes upon the exchange.

✧ gifted her the task of putting labels on the glass vials, of cleaning and sweeping and becoming the errand girl when it came to gathering ingredients no matter how perilous the trip came to be or delivering to homes. she did this as silently as a mouse though of course with burning complaints in her skull while observing the procedures and tasks her older yet still younger counterpart was privy to. blooming a flower of civil rivalry.

✧ asclepius taught her the old ways of healing, the ‘primitive’ as he liked to call them ways when it came to the advancement of the abilities he'd worn since childhood that aged him rapidly in response to use—like that worn riddled with holes cloak he'd refused to let her fix—which was sufficiently promising. however she still wonders, questions with a soul of skepticism, why he said yes, why he chose her, picked her, plucked her out of many though he did offer the coin knowing fully well the lies sprouted from the woman's lips, someone with little to no experience when his first apprentice had prior background, was so tethered to the craft he was obviously meant to be heir. yet neither allowed her to dwell on it, her first family in years and she desired to keep them in that bubble of warmth forever.

✧ the world did not leave them alone long, it reached like a child for it’s mothers’ skirt and tugged tugged tugged, reminded her that it was not soft. eurus was taken, valuable, the soldiers had said. there was nothing kind in that stretch of lip either. mentor was not there at the time, gone again on one of his long trips without word, anastazija had been the one to crack open the door when they knocked ever so polite was the girl yet she wishes she had not done so. refused to open the door knowing fully well they would have yanked him from the shop in spite of protests anyway—to this day clutches his letter to herself like a lifeline refusing to accept the worst case scenario.

✧ currently, although still in the role of assistant, anastazija basically runs the establishment as if she owned it, takes care of the building and makes sure it is in tip top shape despite occasional blunders for when her wanderlusting mentor decides to arrive from a faraway location and tends to those that enter with a well practiced smile. nevertheless with the murders, the mounting death toll, has her concerned with the state of the kingdom’s people.

#warborn.intro #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: mention of death #ᵃ ᶜʰᵒᵏᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ʳᵘᵇᶤᵉˢ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵗʳᵃᵒʳᵈᶤᶰᵃʳᶤˡʸ ᵖʳᵉᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ˢˡᶤᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ | anastazija’s headcanons

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aquilaofarkham · 5 years ago

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title: blood moon risen rating: general summary: During a night of insomnia, a young Alucard wanders throughout the castle before learning about the lunar eclipse—or the blood moon—from his mother and father. As an adult, he experiences a similar bout of restlessness and tries to look back on his memories with fondness.

AO3

“You don’t have to be afraid—this is your home. It will never harm you.”

The castle doesn’t frighten the boy, not even as he lies in darkness as the distant sound of skittering and fluttering bat wings surround him. His bright eyes are wide open; tiny hands grip the hem of his bed quilt. Shadows slink from wall to wall. It’s been a year since Adrian was given his own bedroom. During those first months, he yearned for the warmth and presence of a loved one sleeping nearby. There was the probability of nightmares plaguing his sleepless nights. Or worse, rogue creatures waiting to snatch him out of his bed. But just as his mother so kindly reminded him, Adrian knows there is nothing to fear.

Still, something keeps the dhampir awake and alert. Bedtime is always hard for a boy of his particular nature. How does someone who belongs to both the day and the night find time for sleep? He wants to be there when the castle comes alive, when its magic and other inhuman inhabitants no longer have to hide from the sun. His mother loves the sun and it loves her in return; the hair she gave to her child shines in its rays like honeyed silk. She also loves a man who scorns the daylight yet adores his sun touched wife.

Adrian is young. There’s still enough time to find that balance so perfectly achieved by his parents. For now, his mother would rather have him asleep and ready for the next day. He closes his eyes only to wait five minutes before they open on their own. He finds little, inconsequential things to pick apart—the blanket is too hot, the room is too cold, the pillow too hard, the bed frame too creaky. Thoughts that anyone would be bothered by but seem far more monumental to a five-year-old who cannot sleep.

A small frustrated whine escapes, about as loud as a mouse’s squeak. The next thought that begins to perturb Adrian is his empty stomach. It’s a long trek down to the kitchen—it’s a long trek walking anywhere within the castle. Too many diverging paths, secret doorways that appear on their own, and things that always appear different when one looks away before turning back. But he’ll have no hope of getting anywhere if he stays in bed.

Throwing the heavy quilt off, Adrian instinctively reaches for one of his closest friends: a black and white wolf stuffed with a plush filling and sewn by hand from the softest fabrics. He has many toys including a wooden sword, some blocks with letters that taught him his alphabet, and another doll with a fuzzy face and green tunic. The wolf is Adrian’s favourite as it’s easier to hug against his chest. With his most trusted companion in hand, he opens the door with a drawn out creak and peeks outside. Candelabras line the stone walls, their individual flames standing tall and still, lighting a hall with no end in sight—only more darkness.

Adrian and his wolf follow the trail of steady fire, entering the darkness. His pace is slow as his two left feet keep tripping over his long nightgown. He carries onwards, corridor after corridor. There’s not a single menacing shadow or sudden noise that can make him retreat back underneath the security of his bed sheets.

Though perhaps there is one thing that can make Adrian stop. He rounds another corner only to hide behind it after catching a glimpse of what awaits him down the hall: two figures, a man and a woman wearing dark colours, illuminated by soft candlelight. One looms over the other like a storm cloud casting itself over a field of golden wheat. Adrian looks closer, keeping himself and the wolf hidden. He notices their smiles as they speak. The towering man lets out a subdued yet genuine laugh before taking the woman’s hand in his claws and kissing it. She returns the gesture by standing on her toes and chastely places her lips upon her suitor’s cheek as best she can. Now ready to continue with their leisurely midnight walk, they remain supposedly unaware of Adrian’s presence. Then the man draped in black and red speaks.

“Do not be alarmed, my love, but I believe we are being watched.”

Dracula’s tone is low, methodical, enough to turn the blood of any mortal man into ice. Yet in his statement, it becomes gentle with a light-heartedness that seems alarmingly uncharacteristic of him. It doesn’t stop Adrian from being frozen to the spot. To think he had the foolish plan of sneaking past them.

“By whom?” Asks Lisa, both of Lupu and now of a castle hold with a mind of its own.

“A certain bat who likes to fly about in the moonlight.”

“Bats are nocturnal by nature, dear. And who isn’t drawn to the moon?”

“But this one seems to prefer gallivanting off on his own well past his bedtime... against the certain wishes of his mother and father.”

There’s no point in using the corner as his hiding spot any longer. He has been caught, time to play fair. Staring down at his feet still obscured by the nightgown, Adrian emerges and bashfully scurries towards his parents. “... I can’t sleep.” Blunt, but truthful.

“Did you have a nightmare? Does being alone in your room frighten you?”

“I’m not scared, but I can’t go to sleep.” Adrian presses the wolf close to his mouth, muffling his words. Lisa kneels down and cups his flustered cheeks.

“You’re just like your father. A little night owl.”

“I’m hungry.”

Lisa looks to her husband; whose regal expression softens with understanding for his son. There are moments when the castle lord can be strict—never cruel—yet as often as possible, he allows his golden eyed dhampir to melt whatever’s left of his dead heart. “Come along. We’ll find something to fill that empty belly of yours. Then it’s straight back to bed with you. Understand, my little bat?”

“Yes. I promise.”

Dracula and Lisa exchange smiles as Adrian toddles between them. Clawed fingertips carefully stroke the top of the boy’s soft head. Like the castle, he doesn’t fear them and neither does Lisa. They never should.

Before reaching the main floor where the kitchen resides, they first make their way down an open corridor guarded by pillars, bridging one area of the castle to the next. A cool breeze passes through the glassless windows. Adrian clings to Lisa’s leg in an attempt to sap up as much warmth as she will give. There are no chandeliers here for the moon has always offered enough light. But there’s something odd about tonight; the only one to notice this is Adrian. His gaze wanders to the skies, settling on what appears to be a large bloody circle splattered upon a dark blanket of stars. He’s never seen the moon so red before. It strikes him with morbid fascination, something Lisa is very familiar with.

“Do you like the moon, Adrian? I like it too.”

“Why does it look like that?”

“It’s the blood moon, or a lunar eclipse.” Answers his father.

“What’s that?”

While Adrian continues to stare in awe, Lisa tries turning scientific explanations into simple terms easily understood by a child. “Do you remember the diagram in one of your books? Of the moon, the planets, and how everything revolves around our sun?”

“Mm-hm.”

“A lunar eclipse occurs when the sun shines on one half of the world while the moon hides itself in the earth’s shadow. This can only happen when the sun, moon, and earth are all aligned.” Lisa gestures with her fingertip, drawing an invisible horizontal line, to further illustrate her brief lesson. “The reason why it looks red is because the sun cannot reach it, thus leaving it in complete darkness. When the moon passes in front of the sun, that’s called a solar eclipse. There’s far more to be discovered in your father’s astronomical tower.”

“I want to see! I want to go to papa’s tower! Can I go see now? Please?”

“Calm yourself, little bat.” Dracula interjects with another pat to Adrian’s head. “I will take you up there myself and we can watch the skies together. But not this night.”

“Okay... I’m sorry.”

Another good-natured laugh from the lord. “No need for apologies. A healthy fascination for the sciences does nothing but good for a growing mind such as yours. You are just like your mother in that regard.”

The hint of a happy expression begins to form on Adrian’s face. Even as they continue downwards, scaling the very spine of their castle, he cannot tear his eyes away from the moon. Revealing its red light every so often through an open window or crevice. In the kitchen, Lisa pours him a cup of milk, pairing it with a small jelly tart. “Only one for tonight,” she chides before Adrian has the chance to ask for a second or third.

He finishes the pastry with haste but drinks down his milk with more thought, as though his mind has gone off somewhere else. “Does the sun miss the moon?”

Lisa and Dracula turn to him with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?” They listen, waiting to hear whatever grand philosophical theory their young scholar has concocted this time. Adrian stumbles with his words at first, thinking them through carefully. They need to sound bigger, older, and more important.

“When there’s no luh-loon... the sun can still see the moon. And the moon can still see the sun. But when the moon goes into the shadow... they can’t see each other. That’s why the moon gets bloody, because, because it’s hurt and... and lonely. So, when the moon gets out of the shadow, the sun can heal it.”

All eyes are on him. Lisa raises her eyebrows in amazement; Dracula strokes his beard in a contemplative manner. “My boy, I do believe you have just created your own folklore about the moon.”

“F-folk? Lore?” Adrian gulps down the remainder of his milk, leaving a thin line above his upper lip before Lisa cleans it with a handkerchief.

“Folklore are stories that have been passed down for generations. They seek to explain what is supposedly unexplainable. And there are many stories about the blood moon,” she responds.

“Some humans believe they are a sign of the end times or a warning of oncoming change. But we vampires see it as a good omen from the universe itself. After all, it’s when our powers are at their utmost peak.”

“Are the stories true?”

Dracula gives his son a mischievous look. “Not all... but perhaps some. Now remember your promise to go back to bed.”

“Okay! I’ll follow the moon!” Adrian darts out through the kitchen doors with his wolf tucked safely in his arms.

“Not so fast!” Lisa shouts after him. Dracula simply glides close behind them. Seems all that talk about moons and suns coupled with a late-night desert has made the boy more active than ever. But he climbs into bed, letting his mother and father tuck him in. They kiss his head before wishing him pleasant dreams. Adrian makes himself comfortable, happy that his bed no longer feels too hot or too creaky and responds with a goodnight of his own.

The door closes and shadows surround him once again. His eyes quickly adjust as they observe the room; every book, every toy, even the scraps of drawings littered across his desk. Then there’s the glow of the moon. It hangs just outside his window as though it were looking through, hoping to be let inside.

“Goodnight, blood moon.”

It’s difficult to look back on certain memories and regard them as anything else but pleasant. Every time the urge strikes, a strange feeling begins to form at the bottom of Alucard’s stomach. It could be a simple case of nausea passing by and he should rummage through the old medicine cabinets for something that could soothe it. Perhaps it’s guilt. The sense that after what he did—what they both did—any desire for nostalgia is wrong.

He can’t shake it and wandering the castle halls with nothing but a thin night shawl, a fruitless attempt to keep him warm, doesn’t seem to be helping. All it does is remind him of more. More memories of those childhood sleepless nights, more of Lisa slipping him milk and pastries to make him go back to bed. More of a father that once was. Arms cross over in front of his chest, wishing there was something for them to hold other than his own body.

Alucard stops in the middle of an always familiar corridor and sits in one of its glassless windows. He teeters from side to side, never falling to the ground below. Heavy yet gentle eyes aimlessly drift upwards. There it is again, bright as ever, seeming closer than it actually is. No longer a deep morbid red, no longer crying out in pain for its sun.

“Hello, old friend.”

Out of the silence, Alucard hears footsteps. Followed by an unmistakable voice. “Is everything... alright?”

He turns to Sypha; scars healed, robes repaired, and short hair still tousled. She must not have heard his little greeting to the moon. Alucard forces a smile.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem to need a lot of sleep.”

“I certainly need it, more than the inhuman half of me does. But I’ve always had difficulty sleeping even as a child.”

“I suppose that makes two of us.”

“Too many thoughts running through your head as well.”

“You could say that.” Sypha rests her elbows upon the windowsill while the smile on Alucard’s lips grows. Only one day into an unexpected visit that might not last for much longer and out of the castle’s main occupants, she’s made herself more at home than anyone else. It took some time to admit due to sheer awkwardness and fear of intimacy, but Alucard appreciates how much the companionship of two people can ground him. He needs it, especially when that desire for nostalgia tempts him.

“It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen it so big before. To be honest, it scared me that night it turned red.”

“I don’t believe you get scared for a moment.”

“Well, I just couldn’t show it to either of you.”

He expected nothing less from her. “In any case, I’ve never thought there to be any fear in looking at the blood moon.”

“Why do you think so?”

“All it does is signify a change—good, or bad, or something in between.”

“Do you think something changed for good that night?”

Alucard could answer that question in a number of ways. He could give Sypha the optimistic response, which might be what she needs to hear. He could be honest and blunt, perhaps to a fault. But before he can open his mouth, another figure in the corridor makes himself known.

“Are you two talking about me?” Trevor joins them by the window, his tunic unbuttoned and untucked. Hair just as tangled as Sypha’s, if not more so.

“Not at this moment. I presume you’re having trouble sleeping as well.” Alucard has been all things from honest to outright rude towards Trevor, yet now his voice takes on a far gentler tone. With every interaction, minor or grand, the walls they’ve built between each other are being broken down stone by stone, word by word. They can feel it, Sypha can feel it, but no one mentions it.

“The moon isn’t making it easier.” Each syllable drawls out from Trevor’s mouth as he wipes the lack of sleep from his eyes. It’s rare to see the Belmont like this, so off guard and vulnerable. Part of Alucard prefers this side of him.

“You don’t like the moon, Trevor?” Inquires Sypha.

“It’s always made me feel uneasy. I blame all the stories and cautionary tales my family taught me.” He pauses, his eyes squinting in the moonlight. “I like stars more than I like the moon.”

A phrase that neither Sypha nor Alucard thought they would ever hear from Trevor; they liken it to his mind being softened by insomnia. A comfortable silence passes between all three.

“Can I offer either of you a drink? Or something small to eat? I find it helps with restlessness.”

Sypha blinks her wide eyes while Trevor stares at Alucard. The night is still long and there’s not much else they can do, nor is there any other place they can go. “That would be nice.”

#castlevania #alucard #adrian tepes #alucard castlevania #dracula #lisa tepes #castlevania fanfiction #my writing #*cvfic #don't be put off by the dark edit the fic itself is actually really fluffy

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kkintle · 4 years ago

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Map: Collected and Last Poems by Wisława Szymborska; Quotes

Dreams flickered on white canvas.

The future—who can guess it. The past—who’s got it right.

Trite Rhymes A great joy: flower upon flower, the branches stretch in pristine blue, but there’s a greater: today’s Tuesday, tomorrow will bring mail from you, and still greater: the letter trembles, strange reading it in spots of sun, and still greater: just a week now, now just four days, now it’s begun, and still greater: I kneel on top and make the suitcase lid shut tight, and still greater: the train at seven, just one ticket, thanks, that’s right, and still greater: rushing windows, with view on view on view on view, and still greater: dark and darker, by nighttime I will be with you, and still greater: the door opens, and still greater: past the door, and still greater: flower on flower. —Ohhh, who are all these roses for?

Do you open each human fate like a book, seeking feelings not in fonts or formats? Are you sure you decipher people completely?

Are people really so simple as far as people go?

Lovers In this quiet we can still hear what they were singing yesterday about the high road and the low road . . . We hear—but we don’t believe it. Our smile doesn’t mask our sorrow, and goodness needs no sacrifice. The pity we give to nonlovers is even more than they deserve. We’re so astonished at ourselves, what’s left to astonish us? Not a rainbow in the night. Not a butterfly in snow. And when we sleep we dream of parting. But it’s a good dream, it’s a good dream, since we wake up from it.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.

One day, perhaps, some idle tongue mentions your name by accident: I feel as if a rose were flung into the room, all hue and scent.

Why do we treat the fleeting day with so much needless fear and sorrow? It’s in its nature not to stay: today is always gone tomorrow. With smiles and kisses, we prefer to seek accord beneath our star, although we’re different (we concur) just as two drops of water are.

If we haven’t had enough of despair, grief, all that stuff, lofty words will kill us off. Then we’ll stand up, take our bows: hope that you’ve enjoyed our show. Every patron with his spouse will applaud, get up, and go. They’ll reenter their lives’ cages, where love’s tiger sometimes rages, but the beast’s too tame to bite.

I TEACH silence in all languages

FOR PROMISES made by my spouse, who’s tricked so many with his sweet colors and fragrances and sounds— dogs barking, guitars in the street— into believing that they still might conquer loneliness and fright, I cannot be responsible. Mr. Day’s widow, Mrs. Night.

We know ourselves only as far as we’ve been tested. I tell you this from my unknown heart

An Effort Alack and woe, oh song: you’re mocking me; try as I may, I’ll never be your red, red rose. A rose is a rose is a rose. And you know it. I worked to sprout leaves. I tried to take root. I held my breath to speed things up, and waited for the petals to enclose me. Merciless song, you leave me with my lone, nonconvertible, unmetamorphic body: I’m one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.

Leave me, leave, but not by land. Swim off, swim, but not by sea. Fly off, fly away, my dear, but don’t go near the air. Let’s see each other through closed eyes. Let’s talk together through closed mouths. Let’s hold each other through a thick wall.

Since eternity was out of stock, ten thousand aging things have been amassed instead.

Everything’s mine but just on loan, nothing for the memory to hold, though mine as long as I look.

One day the answer came before the question. Another night they guessed their eyes’ expression by the type of silence in the dark. Gender fades, mysteries molder, distinctions meet in all-resemblance just as all colors coincide in white.

Sunny. Green. A forest close at hand, with wood to chew on, drops beneath the bark to drink— a view served round the clock, until you go blind.

Parable Some fishermen pulled a bottle from the deep. It held a piece of paper, with these words: “Somebody save me! I’m here. The ocean cast me on this desert island. I am standing on the shore waiting for help. Hurry! I’m here!” “There’s no date. I bet it’s already too late anyway. It could have been floating for years,” the first fisherman said. “And he doesn’t say where. It’s not even clear which ocean,” the second fisherman said. “It’s not too late, or too far. The island Here is everywhere,” the third fisherman said. They all felt awkward. No one spoke. That’s how it goes with universal truths

Ballad Hear the ballad “Murdered Woman Suddenly Gets Up from Chair.” It’s an honest ballad, penned neither to shock nor to offend. The thing happened fair and square, with curtains open, lamps all lit: passersby could stop and stare. When the door had shut behind him and the killer ran downstairs, she stood up, just like the living startled by the sudden silence. She gets up, she moves her head, and she looks around with eyes harder than they were before. No, she doesn’t float through air: she steps on the ordinary, wooden, slightly creaky floor. In the oven she burns traces that the killer’s left behind: here a picture, there shoelaces, everything that she can find. It’s obvious that she’s not strangled. It’s obvious that she’s not shot. She’s been killed invisibly. She may still show signs of life, cry for sundry silly reasons, shriek in horror at the sight of a mouse. Ridiculous traits are so predictable that they aren’t hard to fake. She got up like you and me. She walks just as people do. And she sings and combs her hair, which still grows.

I let myself be invented, modeled on my own reflection in his eyes. I dance, dance, dance in the stir of sudden wings.

Exiled by style. Only their ribs stood out. With birdlike feet and palms, they strove to take wing on their jutting shoulder blades. The thirteenth century would have given them golden halos. The twentieth, silver screens. The seventeenth, alas, holds nothing for the unvoluptuous. For even the sky bulges here with pudgy angels and a chubby god— thick-whiskered Phoebus, on a sweaty steed, riding straight into the seething bedchamber

He grew rozes with a “z.

(...) the rest of your life? Old age is a precipice, (...)

I am too close for him to dream of me.

Silence—this word also rustles across the page and parts the boughs that have sprouted from the word “woods.”

Funny little thing How could she know that even despair can work for you if you’re lucky enough to outlive it.

The Railroad Station My nonarrival in the city of N. took place on the dot. You’d been alerted in my unmailed letter. You were able not to be there at the agreed-upon time. The train pulled up at Platform 3. A lot of people got out. My absence joined the throng as it made its way toward the exit. Several women rushed to take my place in all that rush. Somebody ran up to one of them. I didn’t know him, but she recognized him immediately. While they kissed with not our lips, a suitcase disappeared, not mine. The railroad station in the city of N. passed its exam in objective existence with flying colors. The whole remained in place. Particulars scurried along the designated tracks. Even a rendezvous took place as planned. Beyond the reach of our presence. In the paradise lost of probability. Somewhere else. Somewhere else. How these little words ring. Alive These days we just hold him

But this is ancient history. I can’t dwell on it forever or keep asking endlessly, what’s next, what’s next. Day to day I trust in permanence, in history’s prospects. I can’t gnaw apples in a constant state of terror.

Arduous ease, watchful agility, and calculated inspiration.

Old Folks’ Home Here comes Her Highness—well, you know who I mean, our Helen the snooty—now who made her queen! With her lipstick and wig on, as if we could care, like her three sons in heaven can see her from there! “I wouldn’t be here if they’d lived through the war. I’d spend winter with one son, summer with another.” What makes her so sure? I’d be dead too now, with her for a mother. And she keeps on asking (“I don’t mean to pry”) why from your sons and daughters there’s never a word even though they weren’t killed. “If my boys were alive, I’d spend all my holidays home with the third.” Right, and in his gold carriage he’d come and get her, drawn by a swan or a lily-white dove, to show all of us that he’ll never forget her and how much he owes to her motherly love. Even Jane herself, the nurse, can’t help but grin when our Helen starts singing this old song again— even though Jane’s job is commiseration Monday through Friday, with two weeks’ vacation.

Sell me your soul. There are no other takers. There is no other devil anymore.

I’m bound to pass by all these poppies and pansies. What a loss when you think how much effort was spent perfecting this petal, this pistil, this scent for the one-time appearance, which is all they’re allowed, so aloofly precise and so fragilely proud.

The abyss doesn’t divide us. The abyss surrounds us.

In Praise of Dreams In my dreams I paint like Vermeer van Delft. I speak fluent Greek and not just with the living. I drive a car that does what I want it to. I am gifted and write mighty epics. I hear voices as clearly as any venerable saint. My brilliance as a pianist would stun you. I fly the way we ought to, i.e., on my own. Falling from the roof, I tumble gently to the grass. I’ve got no problem breathing under water. I can’t complain: I’ve been able to locate Atlantis. It’s gratifying that I can always wake up before dying. As soon as war breaks out, I roll over on my other side. I’m a child of my age, but I don’t have to be. A few years ago I saw two suns. And the night before last a penguin, clear as day.

True love. Is it normal, is it serious, is it practical? What does the world get from two people who exist in a world of their own?

Let the people who never find true love keep saying that there’s no such thing. Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.

And it so happened that I’m here with you. And I really see nothing usual in that.

Under One Small Star My apologies to chance for calling it necessity. My apologies to necessity if I’m mistaken, after all. Please, don’t be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due. May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade. My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second. My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first. Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home. Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger. I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths. I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five A.M. Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time. Pardon me, deserts, that I don’t rush to you bearing a spoonful of water. And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage, your gaze always fixed on the same point in space, forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed. My apologies to the felled tree for the table’s four legs. My apologies to great questions for small answers. Truth, please don’t pay me much attention. Dignity, please be magnanimous. Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train. Soul, don’t take offense that I’ve only got you now and then. My apologies to everything that I can’t be everywhere at once. My apologies to everyone that I can’t be each woman and each man. I know I won’t be justified as long as I live, since I myself stand in my own way. Don’t bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words, then labor heavily so that they may seem light.

Non omnis moriar—a premature worry.

Thank-You Note I owe so much to those I don’t love. The relief as I agree that someone else needs them more. The happiness that I’m not the wolf to their sheep. The peace I feel with them, the freedom— love can neither give nor take that. I don’t wait for them, as in window-to-door-and-back. Almost as patient as a sundial, I understand what love can’t, and forgive as love never would. From a rendezvous to a letter is just a few days or weeks, not an eternity. Trips with them always go smoothly, concerts are heard, cathedrals visited, scenery is seen. And when seven hills and rivers come between us, the hills and rivers can be found on any map. They deserve the credit if I live in three dimensions, in nonlyrical and nonrhetorical space with a genuine, shifting horizon. They themselves don’t realize how much they hold in their empty hands. “I don’t owe them a thing” would be love’s answer to this open question.

Dentistry turned to diplomatic skill promises us a Golden Age tomorrow. The going’s rough, and so we need the laugh of bright incisors, molars of goodwill. Our times are still not safe and sane enough for faces to show ordinary sorrow.

Our solitary existence exacerbates our sense of obligation, and raises the inevitable question, How are we to live et cetera? since “we can’t avoid the void.

No way out? But what about the door? No prospects? The window had other views.

You think at least the note must tell us something. But what if I say there was no note— and he had so many friends, but all of us fit neatly inside the empty envelope propped up against a cup.

(...) to linger longer, not to go home again. Since only prisoners want to go home.

In Praise of Feeling Bad about Yourself The buzzard never says it is to blame. The panther wouldn’t know what scruples mean. When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame. If snakes had hands, they’d claim their hands were clean. A jackal doesn’t understand remorse. Lions and lice don’t waver in their course. Why should they, when they know they’re right? Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton, in every other way they’re light. On this third planet of the sun among the signs of bestiality a clear conscience is number one.

I know nothing of the role I play. I only know it’s mine, I can’t exchange it. I have to guess on the spot just what this play’s all about

The star is large and distant, so distant that it’s small, even smaller than others much smaller than it.

Small wonder, then, if we were struck with wonder; as we would be if only we had the time.

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.

“How should we live?” someone asked me in a letter. I had meant to ask him the same question. Again, and as ever, as may be seen above, the most pressing questions are naïve ones.

Whatever you say reverberates, whatever you don’t say speaks for itself. So either way you’re talking politics.

Who knows you matters more than whom you know. Trips only if taken abroad. Memberships in what but without why. Honors, but not how they were earned. (...) Price, not worth, and title, not what’s inside. His shoe size, not where he’s off to, that one you pass off as yourself.

Nothing’s sacred for those who think. Calling things brazenly by name, risqué analyses, salacious syntheses, frenzied, rakish chases after the bare facts, the filthy fingering of touchy subjects, discussion in heat—it’s music to their ears.

During these trysts of theirs, the only thing that’s steamy is the tea.

May delivery be easy, may our child grow and be well. Let him be happy from time to time and leap over abysses. Let his heart have strength to endure and his mind be awake and reach far. But not so far that it sees into the future. Spare him that one gift, O heavenly powers.

For the sake of the children that we still are, fairy tales have happy endings. That’s the only finale that will do here, too. The rain will stop, the waves will subside, the clouds will part in the cleared-up sky, and they’ll be once more what clouds overhead ought to be: lofty and rather lighthearted in their likeness to things drying in the sun— isles of bliss, lambs, cauliflowers, diapers.

I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries that can be celebrated every day.

A miracle, just take a look around: the inescapable earth. An extra miracle, extra and ordinary: the unthinkable can be thought.

When I see such things, I’m no longer sure that what’s important is more important than what’s not.

Hatred is a master of contrast— between explosions and dead quiet, red blood and white snow.

Perhaps all fields are battlefields, those we remember and those that are forgotten: (...)

Without us dreams couldn’t exist. The one on whom the real world depends is still unknown, and the products of his insomnia are available to anyone who wakes up.

Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

We agreed to death, but not to every kind. Love attracted us, of course, but only love that keeps its word.

We were besieged by doubts. Does knowing everything beforehand really mean knowing everything. Is a decision made in advance really any kind of choice.

We’re extremely fortunate not to know precisely the kind of world we live in.

I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other.

They aren’t obliged to vanish when we’re gone. They don’t have to be seen while sailing on.

The Three Oddest Words When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past. When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it. When I pronounce the word Nothing, I make something no nonbeing can hold.

But how to answer unasked questions, while being furthermore a being so totally a nobody to you.

Talking with you is essential and impossible. Urgent in this hurried life and postponed to never.

Understanding came only later: not all misadventures fit within the world’s laws and even if they wanted to, they couldn’t happen.

And what can you say about one day of life, a minute, a second: darkness, a lightbulb’s flash, then dark again? KOSMOS MAKROS CHRONOS PARADOKSOS Only stony Greek has words for that.

There must be an exit somewhere, that’s more than certain. But you don’t look for it, it looks for you, it’s been stalking you from the start, and this labyrinth is none other than than your, for the duration, your, until not your, flight, flight— (...)

Life on Earth is quite a bargain. Dreams, for one, don’t charge admission. Illusions are costly only when lost. The body has its own installment plan. And as an extra, added feature, you spin on the planets’ carousel for free, and with it you hitch a ride on the intergalactic blizzard, with times so dizzying that nothing here on Earth can even tremble.

At times I get fed up with her. I suggest a separation. From now to eternity. Then she smiles at me with pity, since she knows it would be the end of me too.

Assassins They think for days on end, how to kill so as to kill, and how many killed will be many. Apart from this they eat their meals with gusto, pray, wash their feet, feed the birds, make phone calls while scratching their armpits, stanch blood when they cut a finger, if they’re women they buy sanitary napkins, eye shadow, flowers for vases, they make jokes on their good days, drink citrus juice from the fridge, watch the moon and stars at night, place headphones with soft music on their ears and sleep sweetly till the crack of dawn —unless what they’re thinking needs doing at night.

It’s good you came. Sit here beside me. He really was supposed to get back Thursday. But we’ve got so many Thursdays left this year.

Page after page at a snail’s pace. But we’re still going in fifth gear and, knock on wood, never better.

We eat another life so as to live. A corpse of pork with departed cabbage. Every menu is an obituary. Even the kindest of souls must consume, digest something killed so that their warm hearts won’t stop beating.

In the end I stopped knowing what I’d been looking for so long. I woke up. Looked at my watch. The dream took not quite two and a half minutes. Such are the tricks to which time resorts ever since it started stumbling on sleeping heads.

#poems #poetry #Wislawa Szymborska #literature #quotes

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