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punching-pentagrams · 2 months

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Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 10

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity,

Over the next couple of days, Charlie and the hotel crew started to prepare for their little "intervention" dinner with her dad. Charlie and Vaggie worked together to make up dinner while the others made sure the place was kept up, mostly Niffty.

Later that night, Charlie heard a knock on the front door. Was that him? Why didn't he just teleport in like usual? Charlie went to open the door and saw Lucifer giving his big focused smile.

"Charlie! It's so good to see you," he said enveloping his daughter in a big hug. It had been weeks since he had hugged anyone, the sting of how much he missed it had started to grow back.

"Hi Dad," Charlie said hugging her father back tightly and swinging him around. "I've missed you so much, it's been weird not having you around as much."

Lucifer tightened his grip on Charlie as they hugged, "I'm- sorry about that sweetie, I just... got busy. I'll try to be better about that, I promise."

Charlie loosened the hug enough to study her dad's face, it was tired and worn out, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Lucifer tried hard to keep his facade up, but he knew his daughter was trying to read him.

"Dad... are you sure you are ok?" Charlie asked with concern.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" he said still trying to hold a smile, holding a silence but futile prayer that he could find a way to fool her into thinking he was ok.

The other members of the hotel, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Cherri, Vaggie, even Alastor started to walk in from the shadows of the hotel lobby.

"Cuz, with all due respect your highness," Husk chimed in "One, you are a bad liar, two, we actually do care about you," Husk looked over to Alastor out of the side on his eye, "well... most of us care about you, and three... we are also worried about (y/n)."

"Ya!" Angel added in, "You two were a couple of peas in a pod, she was even talkin' 'bout wantin' to move in here, den 'poof', ya both are nowhere ta be seen fa' weeks. What gives?! I thought we mattered to you guys!"

"Ya! I miss you and our girl, where is she?!" Cherri pipped in, "We loved watching you two hangin' out here togetha."

"She was a bad girl! But she was really nice! I liked when she would listen to me talk about my bugs fights!" Niffty added, holding up her knife.

Alastor sighed, "Honestly, I'm mostly here for the entertainment of your sorrow... but (y/n) was important to the growth of the hotel and it's community. Plus, she amuses me. I had grown unfortunately fond of her charms," Alastor said with a wicked smile, his comment made the room pause a moment, Lucifer glared at him.

"We miss both of you, sir, it's just not the same here without you. We just kinda feel like we've been left in the dark," Vaggie added, rubbing her arm.

Lucifer sighed, he didn't realize just how much you had meant to not just Charlie, but to the entire hotel. That you guys together had been. It was important for them to know the truth.

"Ok, ok... I'll tell you the truth... but it isn't going to be pretty," Lucifer said with shame painting his face. Lucifer went to go sit on the couch and the others came to sit around him and listen to the story. Lucifer gave an abbreviated story of the last several months of his time with you, truth that you were actually a prostitute he had hired, the story with how it all started with the conversation with Ozzie, the first appointment and the chaos and joy that cam from it, how you had helped him to connect with Charlie and the hotel again, how you supported either other through the stresses of the war with Heaven, how he protected you, how he realized he had fallen in love with you, and then the last night you were together, the blur and confusion of it all, and how finally you had banned him from being able to be scheduled with you again and how you had been told that the whole dynamic was just her acting like she cared about him. He didn't blame or try to paint you in a bad light, he was just defeated and sad.

During the story, the group went through a series of emotions, all of them now understanding why you had not able to talk about your relationship with him at all.

"Damn it! No wonder I liked her so much! She's in da same industry as me!" shouted Angel when the story was over, "She felt so kindred and I couldn't fuckin' see it. Oh, she is good."

"So... none of your relationship was real?" Charlie asked, sadly.

Lucifer shook his head, "No... no I don't think it was."

Husk shook his head, "You're wrong." Everyone looked at him. "Something here doesn't add up, Angel, Cherri, you remember our conversation with (y/n) the night before the war with heaven?" They nodded, Husk looked at Lucifer, "The only lie I have ever seen (y/n) tell you was that she was sad that night because of the war, which... she still was... but the reason she was sad before you came over to check on her was because she was sad that she could not be honest with us about your guy's relationship. We had asked her about what was up because you guys seemed more than friends, and she told us she could not talk about it. And she has tried to bluff some things about how she presents herself before when we first met her, probably all just to protect the secret you guys had. Trust me when I say, she was never fake with how much I saw she cared about you."

Lucifer shrugged, "It doesn't seem to matter though it though... in the end, she banned me."

"Why?" asked Angel, "Did she tell you? Did you ever hurt her?"

"No. Someone else at the place she works called me and told me, she was gone or... something. I don't know if I hurt her, never physically, but I was so drunk at the end of our last night together... I don't know what I did or why I got banned... and I'd never want to cross a boundary like that... she's had too many fucked up people in her life... I don't want to add to that club any more than I already had," he buried his face in his hands, "it sounds like keeping the secret was already a lot of weight on her, I didn't realize..."

"King, listen, I've been in the sex business for a long time, nothin' about this situation makes sense ta me, both from a sex worka' standpoint or from what I know about her. Did you pay her well?" Angel ask inquisitively.

Lucifer nodded, "Ya, I gave her big tips too, I wanted to to be happy and get what she needed."

"No good sex worka' in their right mind would full on ban you for one weird night, even if you did rough 'em up a bit. You told us there was some other client that had been roughin' her up a bit that you took care of. Tell me, did she ban him on the first night of havin' any issues with him?" Angel asked. Lucifer shook his head, starting to think about Angel's words.

"Right. So unless she was stupid, which I know she aint, she wouldn't've cut off probably the best paycheck in hell just because you had one sloppy drunk night where something may have gone weird. Also, on top a dat, sex worka's can be good actors and can pretend like they care. But they try not to get attached, and like Husker said earlier, she got attached, and boy it was obvious. That's probably a big reason why I didn't sus her out sooner. By da time we met her, nothin' about ya relationship was actin' anymore, on either side. Cuz you love 'er, dontcha?" Angel pointed while he leaned back on the couch.

Everyone looked at Lucifer, he nodded, "I do, I love her."

Angel nodded, "And you would do anythin' to make 'er happy, including keepin' yourself away from her if you thought it would make her happier, isn't dat right?"

Lucifer started to tear up, "Yes..." Charlie started to tear up and hugged her dad.

"Therefore... there is something fishy happenin' here, there must be some form of miscommunication, or... a third party that likes messin' with shit," Angel looked up at the ceiling thinking.

"How do you know all this?" asked Vaggie suspiciously. Angel looked over at Vaggie and have her a sly smile, "When you're life was spent in da Mafia and your afterlife was spent around shitty desperate sex worka's that are dying to get a taste of your success by any means necessary, you pick up on a few things, baby."

Charlie perked up, "You think someone at her work did this?"

Angel shrugged, "It's very possible, not 100%, but it's possible. Lucifer, did (y/n) ever talk about having any issues with other girls at her workplace?"

Lucifer thought a moment, "Hmm... she mentioned there being some annoying girls that she some sometimes needed to put in their place, but nothing this crazy hostile. But then again, she didn't like talking about the Lounge much, and I didn't like asking because I started to get more sad whenever I was reminded that I was just a client to her."

"The Lounge, like the Luxurious Lady's Lounge in the Entertainment district?" asked Angel.

"Ya... you know it?" asked Lucifer.

Angel smiled, "Know it? Ha! Sure do. I know exactly where it is too. May have even seen 'er once or twice without knowin' it"

Charlie smiled at her dad, "Dad, if we know where she is, we should just go and talk to her!"

Lucifer shook his head, "Oh. No, no, nonononono, Charlie... I can't do that."

"Why not? Dad, come on, we can try clearing all this up!" Charlie pleaded.

Lucifer sighed, "I just... until I know for sure that she didn't actually ban me, I won't want to risk that. It's just not a good idea... Plus, I don't want to attract more attention to her if she is having issues there," Lucifer hung his head.

Charlie thought for a minute, then a lightblub went off, Charlie got down to Lucifer's eye level, "Dad, she may have "banned" you for seeing her... but not me! I could go talk to her!"

"Charlie, hold on, dis is a bad idea," Angel piped up, everyone looked at him confused, "Rememba' what happened when you tried to talk to Val for me?" Charlie thought for a second remembering the disaster that was, feeling the guilt return at the memory. Angel smiled, "Obviously I need to go with you!" The room erupted into laughter, Angel almost had them for a second, even Lucifer managed to crack a smile in his down mood.

"You guys are really willing to do this for me?" he asked looking to Charlie and Angel.

Charlie looked at Angel and back to her dad, and grabbed Lucifer's hands, "Yes, for you... and for us."

Lucifer smiled, "Ok... but can we actually have dinner before you go? I was anticipating an actual dinner instead of an intervention, but I guess I should have expected both." The room filled with laughter again and the group set up for dinner before Charlie and Angel would head out to find the Lounge, and more importantly, you.

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Later that evening, you were hanging out in the lobby of the Lounge, the same way that you had the nights before Lucifer had started to take up more of your schedule. You were still getting clients, but it was back to the old torturous monotony as before, but it somehow felt worse now that you had gotten a taste of love... or what you thought had been love. Every client made you wish you were back in Lucifer's arms, wanting to explore Lucifer's body... not this shithole and all it's shitty clients.

You felt yourself grow more bitter as you saw Cynthhhhia grow back in popularity with the customers, it seemed her few days on the phones really scared her into staying in her lane, especially because Larry had apparently made her take all of the calls during those three days. Something did not sit right with you about her more recent success, but you didn't want to turn into another her. Plus, the happier she was, the more she left you alone. Guess there had to be a bright side, somewhere.

You were sitting on your favorite couch in a long, blue, shear, flowy robe, when you saw a tall pair of individuals walk into the lobby. But not just any two tall people, two that you recognized, Angel and Charlie. You eyes went wide, and you quickly slinked off to the dressing room to hide.

'What the hell? What are they doing there?!' you thought to yourself. You hoped they hadn't seen you, even though your time with Lucifer was up, you still wanted to keep his secret about the two of you.

Charlie and Angel walked up to the front counter where Larry was standing he did a double-take seeing both of them.

"Whoooaaa, Princess Morningstar! And the famous Angel Dust! What an honor to have you two in to join us this evening. Are we interested in having a little fun tonight? I am surprised, I didn't think one of Val's best boys would be needin' to pay for fun. Unless... you are looking for a change in employment?" He flashed a sharp smile.

Charlie piped up, "Hi! Uhh, Charlie is just fine. And no, neither of those things. We are here looking for one of your girls, (y/n)."

"Is she here tonight?" Angel added.

"Uhh... ya. What business do you have with her?" Larry asked, wondering how they knew her.

"She's a friend ah mine," Angel chimed in, "She's mean MIA for a few weeks and we have been worried about 'er, we were wantin' to check in on her. Charlie has gotten to know her a little too and wanted to come with."

"Can we pleaseee see her?" Charlie pleaded.

Larry thought for a moment, "I don't know, she is still on the clock for several more hours. I can't just let her off early." Charlie and Angel look at each other and nod, Charlie pulls out an bunch of cash, "Will this cover her for the rest of the night." Larry smiled as the amount of money in her hands, it was more than enough.

"I do believe that will work Ms. Mornin- uhh, Charlie," Larry said taking the cash, "Let me go get her." Charlie is glad that she learned that in some situations like this, money talked more than words or power. She came more prepared than she had with her conversation with Valentino over getting more of Angel's time.

Larry searched around before finding you in the dressing room, "Hey Babydoll, you've been bought out for the rest of the night by some friends of yours, Angel Dust and Charlie Morningstar. I didn't know you knew them." He said giving you a look.

They bought you out for the rest of the night? Did they come here specifically to find you? How did they know you were here? Did... did Lucifer tell them? You felt some fear and hope bloom in your chest.

"Oh, haha ya, you know me, I'm just not one to talk about my personal life at work," you gave Larry a big smile. He laughed, "Alright, keep your secrets, sounds like they wanted to talk to you about something, worried about you. Go show 'em a good time tonight, ok?" You nodded, and quickly switching out to a more solid less see-through robe, before walking out to the lobby.

Angel and Charlie saw you coming, Charlie ran to you but you stopped her short of you, "Not here, come with me," and you led your friends up to you apartment. Once you were inside you room and the door was locked, you said "Ok now you can hug me if you want to."

This time, both Charlie and Angel want to embrace you at the same time, starting to tear up a little.

"Oh my god, (y/n)! It's so good to see you! We were so worried about you!" Charlie asked.

"Ya! When you and Lucifer stopped showing up at the hotel to visit, we started worrying, babe," Angel added.

"Wait... hold up, Lucifer stopped showing up to the hotel? How did you know I was here?" you asked.

"We sat my Dad down and he finally broke and told us the truth about everything," Charlie said.

"Ya, he spilled da beans on your guy's relationship, you don't have to keep his secret from us anymore," Angel added.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, "I don't?!" The two nodded. You started to sob and hugged them back. "I- I'm so sorry, I- I didn't want to lie to anyone but he wanted to keep it discreet, which I understand, he is the King! And it was so confusing, and then, one night he got really drunk one night, and it worried me, he wasn't acting like himself, and told me he loved me, but, but I didn't know if I could believe him. And he was getting all touchy and doe eyed, and I didn't know what was really what he wanted because it was all so sudden. So I ran! I ran because I was so scared, and- and- and-" Charlie and Angel both hugged you and tried to shushed you through your crying.

"It's ok, no one is mad at you. That sounds like a hard position to be in, it sounds like there was a lot of confusion on both sides," Charlie said.

"Confusion?" you sniffled, "Is that why he hasn't called to schedule with me again?"

Charlie and Angel looked at each other then back to you, "You didn't ban him then?"

You blinked, "WHAT?! Why on earth would anyone think I blocked him?! No! I freaked out and went on a trip for a few days to clear my head. I came back and I was told that he said he would call to reschedule, and then he just never did! I thought he hated me!"

"No!" Charlie cried, "No, Oh my god, he is a total wreck without you! He misses you like crazy! He thinks he was put on your "No Kiss List" or something"

"We can't even say your name without him shuttin' down and lookin' like we killed his dog or somethin'," Angel added, Charlie gave him a look, "What?! It's true!"

You sat down on the couch and stared out for a minute, thinking, "Why didn't he come to ask me himself?"

Charlie shrugged, "He doesn't remember what happened that night, he is convinced that he hurt you terribly and that it's why you banned him. He didn't want to hurt you so he respected that wish. We tried to get him to come tonight but he was scared in case you really had banned him."

You thought for a few more moments, who could have caused this? Who would have done this to you both. Your eyes widened. No, could this have been... did Cynthhhhia do this? Would she have been the one to make the calls that day since that was her punishment. You were pretty sure, but you didn't want to act without proof. You clenched your fists, starting to fill with rage.

"Is he at the hotel?" They nodded. You thought again, "Can you take me to him?" They nodded again with more excitement.

"I have just one question for you, before we go," Charlie started, looking into your eyes, "Tell me truthfully, do you actually care about my dad, not just for an income, but as a person?"

You took Charlie's hands in your own, "Charlie, I really do... more than anything... in fact... I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him." Charlie and Angel squealed and jumped up and down.

"That's all I needed to hear, let's do this!" Charlie declared.

You took a few minutes to get dressed, and soon you were off to see Lucifer again. Cynthhhhia eyed you a little as you left, wondering what you were doing with the most famous porn star in the Pride Ring and the Princess of Hell. She rolled her eyes and went back to chatting it up with her next client out it the lobby, it was probably nothing of substance, and she already had big enough fish to fry to keep her focused on herself. Although, she did briefly amuse herself with the idea of seducing the Princess' father, oh how wonderful a dream that would be, but she knew better than to put more thought into that. Why would the King of Hell ever need a prostitute? She laughed to herself.

You, on the other hand, were so full of fear and excitement at the idea of seeing actually Lucifer again, it felt like a dream and you were scared to wake up. But if Charlie and Angel's reaction was any indication of anything, maybe Brooklyn had been right after all.

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Thank you for putting up with torment! I made sure to get through this one quickier so that there was a return of hope. Next chapter they will finally talk in out, and then... a certain someone may see justice 😈

As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)

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husbandhoshi · 3 months

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TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

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grossditz · 7 months

Text

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 broken promises 。s.hb

pairings｜sung hanbin x f!reader

wc｜0.7k

warnings ｜ dom!hanbin，sub!reader，dubcon，incest or stepcest，breeding，impregnation，crying，overstimulation，just the tip plot，kissing，cheating，unprotected sex

an｜this is just extremely self indulgent i cant stop thinking abt hanbin rn (hes so attractive im literally insane) ✿__✿

"do you promise?"

you catch the way hanbins breath locks in his throat when your words pierce through the air. you feel him breath in and exhale when his hands start pressing under your pajama top. "baby..." he whines, heavy cock sliding pass your rim.

you whimper nudging him. "if you don't promise i won't let you," you warn "i swear."

your older brother is quiet, calloused hands rubbing circles on your stomach to serve as a distraction. you nudge him again, lip tutting out a little. "please?"

"okay." hanbin says returning to sliding your top up. "i promise." you don't really think he's listening to you anyway. his expression was too hard to read in the darkness of your room, but you don't have to see him to know the glimmer behind in his eyes. he knows you'll listen to whatever he says. this act of conscience isn't fooling anyone. you wouldn't dare stop his ministrations.

your whole body feels like its on fire when he presses his fat tip to your entrance, strong arms holding you down in case you resist. "w—wait! m' scared!" you mumble, pressing your meek hands against your brothers arms as if that will move them. "it feels weird..."

"no no its okay. big brothers gonna take care of you. don't you wanna do it like the adults do? you said that didn't you?" you feel like crying translating his words into your brain. you nod, and suddenly your breath is knocked away by him pulling your hips back, pushing the head of his cock into your little pussy. hanbin lets out a groan that goes straight to your cunt, already gushing around him.

"fuck, baby sis, you feel so fucking good." he hisses as you let out broken pants, thighs trembling and eyes teary. "o—only the tip, hanbin! feel so full—s'weird, ah...!" you gasp when he bottoms out. "n—no no no!"

"you just feel too good baby, take it all like a good girl for me, okay?" he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts, hand slipping over your mouth when you start to cry too loudly.

it hurts, it hurts so badly, and you could tell hanbin had no intentions to stop. pounding you into your bed, the bed you used to share with him as kids, while you tried to pry at his hands. your head feels all like goo the longer he pushes into you. all you know is that his hard dick keeps hitting your womb, making wetness spill out more each time. you don't notice when you start to quiet down, choked sobs turning into breaths of moans, your hips beginning to move on your own. but hanbin does notice it and it only makes him fuck into you harder.

"yeah, love this don't you, baby? love getting ruined by your brothers fat cock? so good you just couldn't resist?" he laughs hearing the pretty little pleas of whimpers fall from your lips. "gonna fill up my little sis's tummy, gonna fuck a baby into you."

"w-wait— no! you can't! what if— what if matt—matthew—" you gasp out, but he doesn't stop. if anything, he fucks into you rougher, his cockhead bruising your cervix. "shh big bro's gonna take care of you and the baby. you don't need him."

"c—cum! i—i'm cumming!" you start to shake when you feel the pit of your stomach tighten, and suddenly you're out of this world, walls convulsing and fluttering around him as he continues to thrust into you. "knew you liked me."

you feel so exhausted and used, your own cum dripping onto the sheets, fingers laced with hanbin's while hes fucking his cum inside you. sticky white ropes of cum painting your cunt white. hanbin runs his thumb over your cheek, pressing a wet kiss there when he starts to steadily move his hips again, pushing his cum back into your leaking hole. your hips buck at the sensation, tears threatening again, "binnie... m' so sensitive.." he chuckles, leaning over you to press more wet kisses up your face.

"you belong to me now."

#zb1 smut #zerobaseone smut #boys planet smut #zb1 hard hours #zerobaseone hard hours #zb1 hard thoughts #sung hanbin smut #hanbin smut

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starberry-cupcake · 17 days

Text

This is a one chapter update because this chapter was 25 years long and I don't want my post to be also that long, even though you're all being super nice about it (thank you ♥).

previously, in harroweena the ninth:

this happened

now, chapter 6:

harrowbean wakes up and is taken somewhere in a wheelchair

we get no sleep in this ship

we get no face paint, no black robes, no sleep, no security from people who wanna suffocate you in your sleep, no explanations

lyctors need a union

as in unionization, not as in a combination of people, that they did when slurping their cavaliers

the person carrying her is very upset at everyone

turns out, she's a lyctor

her name is mercysomething

we have an ortus 2, a mercysomething and an augustine

harrow mentions eyes again and says that Lyctors "kept their own faces, but the eyes they stole from someone else. You had been lucky that your own transition was not as startling"

Lucky, you say...

I don't know about that

anyway, this mercysomething is supposed to be the saint of joy

I'm assuming lyctors are given their names through the ancient art of sarcasm

on that note

harrow: "if you had not of late become the Saint of Emesis"

me: wait, I gotta look something up real quick

me: yeah, that's funny

mercysomething is angry and in a hurry

a bunch of time is spent with mercysomething being angry and treating people like crap and being unpleasant

she's arguing with everyone she comes across and takes harrow to a hangar

yandere twin is sitting on a crate watching a necromancer make a ward with blood and bleeding to death in the process

harrow sits next to her and they are like sportscasters of blood-painted wards

according to the necrocasters, it's a ghost ward

yandere twin updates harrow on the fact that they're at war and they've been attacked and they're down to three Old Lyctors and two Baby Lyctors

it would explain why mercysomething is upset all the time

mercysomething wants to take the emperor somewhere else and the guy commanding the ship doesn't want to let him leave

emperor guy comes in and kind of does this to mercysomething

yandere twin and I are LIVING for all this pute/salseo/gossip/however you wanna call it

harrow isn't as interested

I complained in gideon because gideon wasn't interested in things I wanted to look into and now I'm gonna complain about harrow not being interested in Drama

emperor the fool says: "I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow, and they were fools to show their hand"

yandere twin and I

when emperor guy sees the necromancer bleeding out he goes "for fuck's sake"

it's a quote, not me being funny ha ha

remember when I said this guy is a mess?

that's becoming exponentially more evident

I want to punch him in the face at all times

I don't know how people can be respectful to this dude

the reason there isn't any face paint for harrow in this ship is that the emperor uses it every morning to paint on his clown face

they've been alive like 1000 years or whatnot and they're all a fucking group project going off the rails

so emperor guy, mercysomething, not!dulcinea (now in a coffin package), yandere twin and harrow get in a ship inside the ship

a smaller ship inside the big ship where the emperor has been for the past bunch of years

the small ship has the blood ward for the ghosts

but, before going in, emperor the fool fixes the necro that's bleeding to death

I honestly think she would have preferred to just die

which, same, if he was my boss

necros also need to unionize

cavaliers more than anyone tbh

if cavaliers unionized, idk if there would be any lyctors

emperor guy and mercysomething argue about people they know and we don't yet know

and mercysomething was telling harrow previously that the former ninth was prettier than her (anastasia, heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me) and telling yandere twin the former third was prettier than her (cyrus? cyril? something like that)

which, absolutely juvenile behavior for someone who's like a 1000+ years of age or whatever

why would we care who she finds prettier????

ANYWAY, throughout this I was once again thinking

nobody here has G & P initials

it's been driving me mad this whole time

gideon and harrow found that former lyctor quarters

and it said "ONE FLESH, ONE END. G. & P."

that was before the note with gideon's name in it was read

and all this time I was thinking those were a set of necro-cav from the previous lyctors

but nobody here has those initials

the only P is the cavalier of Ortus 2 and there's no G

which is DRIVING ME MAD

if the G is the previous Gideon, the one not!dulcinea mentioned, it would explain why there was a note that mentioned a Gideon in the quarters

it would not, however, explain who the fuck that other gideon is, who P is and why they aren't in the list with the other combos

augustine is a former fifth because his cav's last name is quinque

mercysomething's from the eighth because her cav's last name is oct, and because she's annoying to be around

ortus 2 is from the second, because his cav's last name is dve

cyril cyrus whatev is from the third because the cav is trinit and mercysomething mentioned him to yandere twin, who is from the third

ulysses is from the fourth because the cav is tetra

not!dulcinea is seventh because the cav was heptane and because it was a very important thing in the previous book, as we've established

anastasia (dancing bears, painted wings) is from the ninth because the cav is novenary and she was mentioned to harrow

cassiopeia must be sixth, because it's what I have left, but I don't recognize the root of the last name to make a clear parallel from the top of my head

the emperor's guardian is A.L.

I'm taking note of an emperor's guardian who isn't around anymore

could it be ice cube barbie???? idk fam, she's looking at him a lot

giving me magic knight rayearth vibes again

this but with backstabbing instead of love

ANYWAY, all of this to point out that there's no G & P and it's driving me up the wall

now, to a very important thing

VERY IMPORTANT

for me, maybe it's just me

the enemies or whatever are called "remnants" and their leader apparently has been gone for "nearly 20 years"

this is me desperately making timelines with gideon's mom and gideon's birth and the 2 details I know about gideon's mom and her birth

you know what, I'm gonna quote, since I went to fetch it

"One day eighteen years ago, Gideon's mother had tumbled down the middle of the shaft in the drag chute and a battered hazard suit, like some moth drifting slowly down into the dark. The suit had been out of power for a couple of minutes. The woman landed brain-dead. All the battery power had been sucked away by a bio-container plugged into the suit, the kind you'd carry a transplant limb in, and inside that container was Gideon, only a day old."

I'm gonna just...put a pin on that that in the cork board

I don't know you guys, I'm just gonna

let me pin that

I'm probably being wrong a lot more than what I'm getting right but I'm just telling you what goes through my mind, if I'm making a fool of myself, it's too late to act like I'm not a fool

I am also putting my clown paint on like the emperor

MOVING ON

harrow thinks the emperor talks in plural about her at one point and idk if that's the case tbh

we then get emperor guy explaining how they need to go to their safe space base with a name I can't remember

a fancy name very lord-of-the-rings-y

let's call it emperor's mojo dojo casa house

and to get there as quick as they need to, they have to cut through the River

the one with the ghosties and ghoulies

that's what the ward was for

if they went through regular means, it'd take too long and, doing it this way, they could be there super fast, but they need to get in the River and come out the other way in the right spot

and intact

so it's this situation

so, in order to do that, they have to hold on to their souls and their cav souls and whatever they've got using the skills from the first test

I want to point out, once again, WHO PLANNED CANAAN HOUSE AS A TOOL TO GET LYCTORS TO LEARN THINGS?????

THEY WERE NOT DOING ALL THE TESTS

THEY WERE FIGHTING FOR THE KEYS

SOME DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WERE TESTS TO BEGIN WITH

JUDITH WAS LIVING IN LAW AND ORDER

we didn't even get to all the tests, people started dropping like flies

because the emperor had one loose lyctor who thought she was in a telenovela

ANYWAY

the point is, if they drift too far while crossing the River, something else can come into their bodies

we did learn that, because it happened to duracell bunny nephew back in canaan house

but we learned it because mayonnaise uncle thought he was tough shit and ruined it, not because of the tests

harrow, doing her best, thinks "you felt alone in your head"

WHICH IS GREAT for our gideon notes

also, no camilla mention or appearance in this one

(I'm having a lizzie bennet theme going on for Reasons for the time being)

so, we're leaving harrow and yandere twin trying to learn for the first time how to not die by crossing the River because the emperor plans things terribly and mercysomething is too preoccupied being upset at everything all the time

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw

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undead-supernova · 2 months

Text

make me thaw / Masterlist

pairing: Steve Harrington x gn!reader

plot: Steve has to house sit for his parents and has to resist the urge to call you to come over

warnings: not just having mommy or daddy issues (it's that secret third option!), intimacy issues, angst/comfort, pronouns never mentioned

wc: 1.8k

song inspo: I Wouldn't Ask You by Clairo

note: this isn't like any big thing, but I thought the little concept was interesting. anyways, have some angsty Steve

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to call.

There are just certain things that one must experience alone, things that are just too complicated for someone else to truly understand. Things that someone can’t articulate, so why even bother trying at all?

Or, at least, that’s what Steve had thought his whole life.

Because Steve hated his parents. No, it was something that extended past hate. Steve loathed them. He loathed the way they waved their hands around in dismissal. Loathed the way they came in and out at their leisure, only asking how he was when they felt rather obligated. Loathed his mother’s negligence, his father’s absence.

The thing he loathed the most was how much he truly loved them.

But they weren’t even here.

No, they were in Sicily. Another one of their infamous arguments ensued when his mother found love letters from another woman in his nightstand. And instead of trying to deny it this time, his father decided to take his mother on a nice vacation. Some sightseeing, fancy dining.

Nothing said “I’m sorry for cheating on you for the sixth time” like a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine next to the Mediterranean Sea.

So he was called to house sit for a few days, making sure their cat was fed—the one obtained after the fourth "mistake".

Steve wanted to tell them to fuck off and that they could call literally anyone else. But his father offered him a good amount of cash, way more than Family Video was giving him and he just…caved. Couldn’t look his father in the eye when he was told that part of the deal was to never tell anyone about his infidelity. Keep his mouth shut, especially to that little plaything of his.

He looked around his childhood bedroom, feeling a weight beginning to push him further into the mattress. Frames that once held his awards now hugged paintings of Mr. Harrington's favorite vacation spots. Carpet now ripped out in exchange for hardwood flooring. Walls coated in a new shade of off-white. Potpourri sitting on a new dresser to mask his scent. Boxes of his stuff sitting idle in the attic.

And maybe it was a byproduct of hunting monsters and evil spies, but Steve thought the house was haunted. If not haunted, then haunting.

And he could’ve fooled himself into believing he heard echoes of his parents arguing downstairs. Even in the dead quiet. Even in the midnight hour when the rest of Hawkins was lulling in and out of slumber.

It was freezing cold in here, colder than it’d been before—even in the dead of winter. A sweatshirt, thick sweatpants, and fuzzy socks weren’t even enough. Nothing was enough.

Steve didn’t know why, but he thought of you. Thought about how you’d never actually been in this house. You were a more recent friend, a more recent something or other. A friend that he appreciated, a friend that he was too terrified to entertain as anything more than just a friend.

And, sure, you were a friend that he’d tried to introduce to his parents. For whatever reason. But when you walked into the foyer and introduced yourself to Mr. Harrington, he took one look at you, snorted, and walked away. You’d turned back, resigning to sitting by the pool, wondering out loud what made you so laughable.

Steve had tried to comfort you, tried to explain that his dad was just a prick. He hated everyone that didn’t look or act or dress just like him. His dad called it weakness.

And Steve was the weakest of them all.

His knees had brushed yours and his lips trembled as you nearly made what he told himself was a mistake. In that moment, he almost let everything go, had almost let himself wake up to the idea of something new.

But instead, he shook his head and stood up. Walked away. Stood by the car and waited for you to get the hint and follow him. Blamed the rudeness on wanting to get to your shared shift on time. Let the car fill with The Psychedelic Furs and deprived it of conversation.

Because, just like this house, Steve was cold.

After everything with the Upside Down, something he swore he’d never think of again, Steve retreated into himself. Sure, he was still running around with Robin, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Erica. But those were just things now. Low stakes.

He didn’t have to let himself find new ways to break his heart. He didn’t have to put you in any compromising position when he could just stay silent.

And that’s why he didn’t call.

Clink.

Steve’s attention diverted towards the window.

Clink.

Without so much as a flinch, Steve sighed and made his way over. He half expected a new monster to appear, an added cherry on top of his loathing.

But as he peered out, he spotted you with your arm pulled back, ready to launch another acorn. The reflection of the pool lights shone off of your smile that only widened as you noticed him.

Eyebrows furrowing, he quickly lifted the windowsill.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, leaning out.

“Came to hang.”

“Could you not use the front door?”

Tilting your head in confusion, you said, “I’ve been knocking for the last five minutes.”

“Oh.”

“Are you gonna let me in or what?”

Steve watched you unzip your beat up backpack, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. He felt bad that he hadn’t spoken much since he let you in, but you didn’t seem to mind.

He sat up against his headboard, arms crossed as he stretched his legs. You were on the other side of him, cross-legged. Not close enough to accidentally touch, but not so far away that you couldn’t be there if he needed you.

But he didn’t need anyone.

You pulled out a large thermos, gesturing towards it as if you were presenting him with an award.

“I give you…ginger tea,” you said, imitating an announcer.

“You could’ve just brought the bags. We have a kettle.”

“That’s no fun.”

Despite his comment, he took the thermos from you. Warm, was his first thought followed by, Thank you.

But he said nothing, opting instead to drink the tea.

What was there for him to say? Steve was elsewhere, lost in his head in ways that he couldn’t decipher.

“Robin and I missed you at closing tonight.”

And you were here, offering him some relief that he didn’t want to feel. He didn’t need it.

“Is that why you came?” he asked.

You shook your head, going back to rummaging around your bag. “I was thinking about how shitty your parents have been and how uncomfortable it must be to just sit in an empty house.”

Here you were, caring. And for whatever reason, he couldn’t stand it.

“It’s not like I haven’t been doing that my whole life.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. “but that doesn’t make it any easier when you find a real family and then have to come back and sit with what used to be your reality.”

“You don’t need to take care of me.”

“Sure I do,” you said simply.

Like it was a no brainer.

Steve shook his head, wanting the thought of an us to leave his head.

“Life isn’t fair,” he stated, watching as your face began to fall. “And…and this is just the life I was given, you know? And everything that came after that—all the pain, all the bullshit—it’s just…”

Steve trailed off, unsure where to go from there. Unsure where the words were supposed to fall.

Until it came.

“My parents suck. They have no real relationship. I don’t even know why they stay together. And they think that what they have with me is family. Maybe that’s what they were brought up with. I don’t know. But that’s…that’s not it.”

“And knowing that gets frustrating,” you stated, fingers reaching out toward him.

Your hand rested on his knee, the warmth matching that of the thermos. Trying to diffuse his anger, trying to unveil what was hidden.

“Love doesn’t last,” he whispered.

“I don’t think you really believe that.”

Your fingers ran against his knuckles, seemingly soothing him. But there was that hardness in his chest, the kind of protection that couldn’t be torn down so easily.

Even if you were getting good at it.

“What are we, then?” Steve asked suddenly, nearly sounding defensive.

He thought you’d pause. Thought you’d pull your hand away. Anything. But you didn’t flinch, didn’t miss a beat while continuing your absentminded pattern.

“We’re best friends,” you said with a shrug. “Mixed with a hint of something extra.”

“Doesn’t that just complicate things?”

You glanced up. “Not for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you like me back.”

Steve paused, unsure of what to say to you. Unsure of what to think about this conversation. It was supposed to be awkward, right? This wasn’t supposed to feel comfortable.

But it did.

“I don’t understand.”

“The things you’ve been through the last however many years. Your parents,” you explained. “Of course you don’t want to risk falling for someone else or give your heart away. How could you when your own parents can’t even recognize that they have hearts?”

Steve watched you, nearly begging you to be anything besides understanding. Anything besides caring.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you continued. “I just know. I mean, I suspected for a while. But we almost kissed that day. You know, after your dad laughed at me?” He nodded. “I just knew it was a matter of time and…I decided not to push it unless you said something.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to switch it on anytime soon,” he explained, solemn as he looked back over at the empty thermos. “If I could just kiss you and, I don’t know, make everything magically reappear, I would. But…” he trailed, sighing before his eyes met yours again. “I just can’t.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” you replied, eyes trained on your hands. “I’m willing to wait until you’re ready.”

“But I’m just like my shitty parents,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m like ice.”

You shrugged. “Well, ice thaws.”

Steve watched you, watched the way your eyes stayed put on his hand. Watched as you stayed like that, all hopeful and at peace in his room. Perfectly content with the idea of waiting. Not rushing, not arguing.

He thought of his parents, how he’d never seen them engage in physical affection; intimacy. How they could never just have a civil conversation about their emotions. How they could never admit the truth without having to pay a toll.

There was nothing between them that mirrored this.

And maybe Steve was starting to understand what you meant.

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x gn!reader #Steve x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #Steve Harrington x you #steve harrington imagines #I just kinda came up with this and I know it's not like the best thing ever #but I like how simple it is

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kakujis · 6 months

Note

PIBBY OMG OK

Bookshop AU with Yone

You working in a bookstore is so magical to him. He starts coming in with his laptop and headphones to work on his music stuff but he keeps sneaking glances at you while you're rearranging the books on the shelves. He'll even talk to you about your favourite books occasionally

THROW IN SECRET ADMIRER omg he gifts you books he thinks you'll like but won't tell you they're from him so you'll be talking to him about this admirer and he's internally screaming bc IT'S HIM

hi wallaby!! i'm finally writing this cus i'm soooo enamored w him... but u are so right. this au is so cute. i can't believe i just wrote this in one sitting LOL, i'm going to lose it!!!!!!

wc: 684

warnings: gn!reader, mutual pining, mutual shyness. fluff. not proofread. reminder i'm an 18+ blog, likes and rbs are fine, but don't follow if under 18.♡ :>

yone loves a routine. but more importantly, he loves it away from heartsteel. don't get him wrong, he enjoys his bandmates, chaos and all, but sometimes he just needs a quiet place to work. imagine his delight when he stumbles across your bookstore, a quaint place tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

you are ever-present, ever comforting, and always there to lend an ear when he asks, "hey, sorry to bother, but do you think this sample is alright?" he notes your expressions, scrutinizing each piece to make sure you have something meaningful to say.

in return, he'll ask you about your favorite books, your recommendations and if you're working on anything yourself. it's an exchange of creativity that he craves, even in the early hours of the morning when you've just opened up shop and the sun is peeking slightly over the horizon.

the first time you pad over, holding a new book in hand, expression puzzled, he can't stop the light flutter of his heart, it's wings beating like a butterfly searching for a drink.

"look at this new book i got," you chime, handing him over the heavy hard-cover series, "have you read it?"

he'll shake his head, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear to fake getting a better look, before replying, "nope. any idea who it's from?"

you do the same, but spread a wide smile on your face. "honestly, i'm flattered. i didn't think anyone paid attention to me like that. they should spend more time looking at you."

"it's the red hair isn't it?" he jokes back and you'll giggle, a sound that's prettier than the chime of the bell on the top of your door.

the weeks continue on, the look of delight on your face a welcoming sight every time he comes in. he listens intently when you ramble about your admirer, the newest book you got, and more importantly, how it makes you feel.

he decides to step his game up, adding in little trinkets and confectionary with each book drop off. he thinks you have no clue, in fact, he's so confident you don't that he even starts leaving handwritten notes within them. but you are no fool, there's no one else you've ever spoken to about the intricacies of your own heart. no one else knows which stories captivate you the most. only yone.

"another book i see," he hums, taking a sip from his coffee and missing the glint in your eye when he asks. "still no clue who it's from right?"

"y'know," you say, taking a seat across from him. "actually, i think i have a little bit of an idea."

"oh... really?" he answers, trying his best to maintain eye-contact.

you nod again, "mhm." a small, yet shy smile on painted on your features, but you also struggle to make eye-contact, the sudden weight of your confession looming over you.

there's an uncomfortable silence that drapes over the two of you, or at least, yone thinks there is. he opens his mouth to apologize, so clear that he's been caught, but you cut him off.

"or actually, maybe, i know nothing at all." you say, quickly getting up and gathering up your things. maybe you'd like things to stay like this for a while, it's comfortable and cozy. "sorry about that."

"huh? oh no, don't-"

"would you like to go on a date sometime?" you interrupt again, clammy hands holding the book up to your chest.

for a moment, yone just stares at you. knowing that if things goes well, ezreal and kayn are definitely not letting him live this down. he can hear them now, exclaiming, "what do you mean you were too scared to ask them out on a date?! so uncool yone."

he also knows that letting you in means that you'll get hounded by them too, but you'll deal with it when you get there... if you get there. and yone decides that he's okay with that.

"sure," he grins, taking one of your hands in his. "i'd love to."

#heartsteel yone #heartsteel x reader #yone x reader #league of legends x reader #heartsteel fluff #league of legends fluff #wtf do i tag this as #pibby writing #ok logging off bc i need to do hw fr

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kisskawa · 9 months

Text

— reservations cw food

"table for two, please." the words spill from geto's lips before he can help it. force of habit, he curses himself.

he isn't given enough time to correct himself, waiter nodding and beaming at him, happy to help. they can’t pull the truth out of his throat though. instead, the waiter strides forward to a window table, open and barren, a pair of menus in hand.

there's something reminiscent of a smile on geto’s face as he offers his thanks, partly awkward, partly small. it doesn't sit right on such a man. all simple charm and easy grace, the waiter had expected nothing less than confidence and allure. but the single sentence, single word, saps the energy from geto and he finds himself falling clumsily into his seat, hip pressing against the glass beside him. it digs into his skin, cool to the touch and slowly starting to sting.

a gentle "excuse me? sir?" snaps geto out of his trance, gaze fixated on something outside. cobbled pavements, twinkling yellow streetlights and freshly painted benches, no other can seem to catch sight of what he does. the image morphs however, for he turns to the waiter and sees you. the softness of your eyes which always tended to crease around him, the texture of your skin which he had traced countless times before, the curve of your lips which he had kissed so lovingly.

it takes a harsh blink and a sharp shake of his head for your image to twist, geto’s eyes clenching shut even if for just a second. hair lengthening and face rounding, you distort into that of the waiter once more. there's a cautious, too perky smile on their face and their eyes shine with sympathy. geto doesn't know what to do, doesn’t know how to explain no, he hadn't been stood up. for you weren't coming in the first place, you hadn't stood next to him for a while now.

another thing geto doesn't know is why he does it. maybe it's a farewell, he thinks, trying to fool himself, all too aware it's nothing more than second nature as he orders two dishes. he had always known your favourites - colour, animal, people, anything. food was just another category to add to the list. geto had indulged you for the duration of your relationship; he had taken to hiding your choice of snacks in his jacket pockets, and filling his hands with the very takeout you so craved on miserable days in. no matter what, you were guaranteed to be on his mind.

you hadn't expected to see geto suguru - the ex you desperately hated to think about, the ex you desperately hated calling your ex - at the quaint little restaurant. you’d shared it with him only once, attempting and failing to stifle down the excitement in your voice as he agreed to the suggestion. though, you supposed, tearing your stare away from geto to the date you were currently on, he had always been awfully perceptive, knowing your preferences from your go-to drink order at the local cafe to here, the restaurant that held too many memories for anyone's good.

"something wrong?" your date smiles too wide, bared teeth cutting through your distracted thoughts and a careful hand covers your own. you can’t help the reaction that escapes your throat, ragged exhale hardly able to be called a gasp. your hand is quick to slip out from their reach, dropping limply, pathetically, into your lap. their voice, their touch is nothing more than wrong and your eyes soon find the picture of geto once more, ignoring the churn of your stomach as you drink him in - the slope of his nose which you had enjoyed pressing a kiss to just to see it scrunch up cutely, the gorgeous locks of hair which you had tangled your fingers through so often, the shine of his eyes, so distinct and familiar, warm with love.

"sorry," you stammer, words dropping carelessly, "i don’t, i can't do this, 'm sorry."

you move without thought, weakened legs making your knees knock together as you stumble over to the table by the window. your chest aches with each painful hammer of your heart, pulsing and thrashing against your ribcage the way it always did around geto. you can’t help but embrace the reminder of your obvious, lingering feelings fully. no one else could make you feel such a way.

“suguru,” the name slips out of your mouth as easily as an exhale, unprepared for what to say next. you hope your muddled mind can figure it out before the alarm bells can start ringing, pounding.

you don’t need to. geto sighs out a call of your name in response, familiar and light. his eyes are wide as he drinks in the sight of you, lovely albeit rattled. there’s something slightly panicked in your gaze, your breaths are heavy and lips parted so slightly. they tell him the fact of the matter, convince him that standing before him is you. truly. for once not a ghost of the past. and yet despite your imperfections and worries and jolting nerves, geto thinks you’re incredible. better even than how his golden memories dared to place you in front of him.

“please sit,” he gestures, voice rumbling straight through to your heart, calming as ever even if the gentle hitch gave away his nerves, “i got your favourite.”

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v-dkja · 2 months

Text

kiss of death : eren yeager

ೃ⁀ letting someone go is always hard, and here you are, saying goodbye to the person you love so much. (AO3)

“did you know?” one of eren's hands rose to caress your cheek, admiring every curve, while his eyes admired the beauty of your face. where the sunlight hits your face perfectly, adding to its beauty.

you only give him a ‘hm’ in response to his call. you easily find comfort in his touch.

“baby, you’re so fucking perfect. i love you.” his raspy voice saying that made him even hotter. you were sure, by now he could see you blushing from your cheeks to your ears.

your desire to cover up your embarrassed face is in vain, considering the difference in strength between you is so great. “stop saying bullshit, will you?”

“i never lied about that.”

the seriousness that was clearly visible on his face made you realize one thing; he never pretended to love you. so far, people have been sure of one thing, namely that he is only pretending in his love game for you. isn't eren always like that? pretending about something and leaving it. and then he will be indifferent to the thing he has started?

“eren..” your voice calls out his name desperately. your eyes held back the tears that wanted to just come out, your body was trying to stop his touch. but your heart always says no. either he is very good at playing with other people's feelings, or maybe because you are such a fool to let him into your life.

“yes, baby?”

“i don’t wanna go.” the tears finally fell at the same time as the sound of people screaming. screams full of fear, accompanied by the groans of the titans who were ready to defeat anyone who wanted to stop them.

“i don’t want you to go,” your hand squeezed his hand tightly, trying your best to prevent him from leaving. “you promised you would come back once this was all over. but…”

“it’s dangerous, i know.” you look at him with sadness, it's like you're looking at a painting that has a heartbreaking story, he’s also look like a beautiful, tragic painting. his hair, which was now starting to grow long, almost covered his face. “i will come back.”

in an instant he kissed you, a bitter kiss that felt like goodbye even though he had poured all his feelings there. your hands easily found their way to where they should be– hugging him so that there was no distance between you.

even as the two of you were lost in that brief goodbye kiss, death was rushing towards you from time to time faster than you thought.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot x gn!reader #fluff headcanons #aot fluff #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 month

Note

AGSZC learn about the fact you can pinch people if they aren’t wearing Green on March 17th. (Whether or not they know why would depend on if they have an equivalent of saints in their world)

How does the chaos unfold? Who pranks another first?

*It starts when Reno sees Sephiroth minding his own business, not wearing green. He decides to try his luck, walks up behind him and pinches his side*

Sephiroth: Why are you pinching me?

Reno: You're not wearing green. It's St. Patrick's day. You're allowed to pinch people who aren't wearing green on St. Patrick's day.

Sephiroth: I had no idea.

Reno: Yeah, it's how you celebrate.

Sephiroth: You mean to say that if someone isn't adhering to the rules of March 17th and wearing the color green, you must punish them physically for disrespecting St. Patrick.

Reno:

Sephiroth:

Reno: This is why I don't talk to you people.

*Cloud is coming back from an assignment when Sephiroth appears out of nowhere—wearing a green shirt—and starts thwacking him with a broomstick*

Cloud: ACK.

Sephiroth: You're not wearing green. You have disgraced us all.

Cloud, confused: But sir—ow! My scarf—ow! My scarf is green!

*Sephiroth checks his uniform scarf, which is indeed green*

Sephiroth:

Cloud:

Sephiroth: No one will ever believe you.

*Sephiroth walks away with the broomstick*

*Angeal sits on a couch in the SOLDIER lounge after a hard day. He settles down with a copy of his favorite gardening magazine and a sandwich*

Angeal: Lazard had a point. I never take time off for myself. Why do I feel so guilty? It's not like a malicious, punishing hand will appear whenever I try to relax.

*Sephiroth pops up from behind the couch and starts choking Angeal*

Angeal: !

Sephiroth: There is nothing honorable about refusing to wear green on St. Patrick's day.

Angeal: !?

Sephiroth: You sicken me.

*Zack is whistling as he pushes open the door to the showers*

....

*Zack runs back out screaming. Sephiroth chases after him with a flamethrower*

Sephiroth: WHY WON'T ANYONE WEAR GREEN?

*Genesis steps off the elevator, Sephiroth is standing there with a bucket of green paint to throw at him*

Genesis: Ah-ah!

*Genesis points at his green earring*

Sephiroth:

Genesis: You thought I wouldn't be prepared, didn't you? You underestimated me, thinking me a fool, a careless heathen who would be bested by you once more.

Sephiroth:

Genesis: How does it feel to be wrong? Will this sensation suffice to keep you warm tonight, or must you burn your last bit of dignity too?

Sephiroth:

Genesis: I've waited for this blessed day ever since I made your acquaintance. I've been patient. The wait was long and arduous but I knew it would come.

Sephiroth:

Genesis: And now that we're here, I must say, it was well worth it. I win, Sephiroth. But please, don't let the light of glory that bathes my body blind you.

Sephiroth:

Sephiroth: You idiot. That's not even green, it's teal.

*Sephiroth throws the bucket of paint at him*

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #storytime

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qiwoomi · 1 year

Text

i. unspoken nature

series masterlist main masterlist next

"Let's get married."

The man you barely know suggested. It was a polite request. You knew that you were in the position to decline.

But your logical thought says otherwise. Just accept it. Say yes. It said.

You were no fool. It is obvious that he just wants to marry you out of benefit. But still, you wonder why is it not his family who approached you. Usually, arranged marriages are handled by the family of the groom or bride to be.

Wasting no more time to think, you simply agreed.

It was just a marriage after all. Plus, you have little to no love life anyway. The man is unapproachable, he isn't the type to harm anyone. You're sure because you've known him ever since you entered high school.

Nevertheless, it won't hurt to also use him as some sort of shield from your unstable family. You just had to act like a true loving couple. Easy peasy. (Or so you thought.)

Present day

Seated across of you is his relatives.

"Haitham, it's been almost two years that you guys are married, have you never thought about you know... having kids?" His aunt asked.

It was awkward as you just munch on your food silently. You've only seen his relatives for a few times, and there's very little exchange of conversation from you.

"Y/n is still young. There's no rush in having kids." He replied. Encircling his arms around your waist.

"Pfft. You know Y/N, young women these days are too afraid of having kids. Are you?"

"I've never really thought of it yet. Perhaps I'm just too focused on studying." You avoided her accusation, it was already a pressure to think of a new answer every time your husband's side of the family ask both of you about this. You don't want to stir up any possible arguments.

"Oh? I'm sure Haitham is financially stable enough to provide for a family. Don't you think?"

You just smiled, not wanting to further the conversation. Pretending to agree. You finished your food before excusing yourself outside of the venue.

Walking towards the cobblestone path that catches your attention, you immediately sit on a swing that were adorned with flowery ropes. You simply want to take a breather, admiring the flower field.

You gazed at the sky, the sun setting as the moon starts being more visible. The sky is painted with a mix of orange and dark blue. The peaceful ambience around the garden drifted your thoughts.

To say that you were happy ever since your marriage is a lie. It is just a mask for everyone outside of your relationship. Pretending like a couple that everyone wants to be. When it's all just a relationship purely built out of convenience. Though it's no use regretting it now, you never think twice about his offer anyway.

"Y/n. I've been searching for you." Your husband interrupted your thoughts, as you halted the swaying swing with your feet as you stood up from the seat. He approached you. "Let's go. It's already time for us to come home." He offered his hand to navigate you out of the garden.

As both of you were walking to the parking lot, he broke the silence. "I told you to stay by my side. My family would've thought we were fighting." He stated, stopping in his tracks. You just muttered an apology, not in the mood to reason with him.

Unnoticed by you, his aunt was observing you both from distance. Haitham however, noticed this. Hence why he suddenly lift your chin up, going in for a kiss. As you wrap your hands around his neck.

It isn't genuine. But it is genuine enough in the eyes of them, enough to keep them thinking that your marriage is real.

He takes your hands in his, leaving a peck on one of them.

Seeing that his aunt is convinced enough and finally entered her car, so do you both.

You were lying on your bed, the scenario earlier playing in your head.

For the past few weeks, hell not even week but it has been a year. Alhaitham never really tries to form a conversation with you, despite living under the same roof.

You're not really complaining, but you have been feeling lonely.

After you both are married, Alhaitham had stated a few rules after both of you moved in to your shared apartment.

You both sleep separately. He even told you to not disturb him in the morning, especially waking him up. You are not expected to cook for him, take care of him, or anything that a married couple would do.

To be specific, you both just live as housemates. Nothing more than that.

He would sometimes initiate conversation with you, but it's mostly for important things like your student fee, grocery needs and such. You are also barely talking to him first either.

It sometimes did make you feel sad. Pathetic even. You didn't even know how could you last that long living with someone, as if living with a wall. Though it did make you feel inferior to some of your friends or family with a healthy relationship. You were craving for it too. But as time goes by, you became used to it.

At least he still respected your boundaries. It's the least thing he could do.

Somehow, you didn't even know how did you end up suddenly thinking of a divorce. The pen and papers are already within your hands, racking your brain on trying to think of words, reasons. Rational reasons. Logical reasons.

Maybe you should just say it in his face? But what if he rejected it instead. What if you stuttered. You don't want to make a fool out of yourself.

Stretching your arms, you started writing whatever it is that comes in your head. It might even be a vent essay at this point. But as long as it's convincing, then it's fine.

After about an hour, you finally finished. Folding the paper neatly, you are already thinking of ways on how to deliver it to him.

You were too nervous to hand it to him yourself, which is why you settle on placing it on the coffee table in your living room. Hoping that he will notice it when he comes home late at night.

The sun shines through the curtains by the window, waking you up from your slumber. You opted to continue your sleep, until a vibrating sound can be heard by your bedside table. You sighed. Last night's thought keeping you up, that is until you past out at approximately 2AM.

You turned off the alarm, immediately getting up to wash up and get ready for school. After making your bed, you checked yourself in the mirror for the last time before going out of your room, holding your backpack to put it near the door of the apartment. Heading to the kitchen, you make your usual breakfast and a tea as you put them on the table, sitting down and start eating your food.

You suddenly feel an unsettling aura, it's as if someone is staring daggers behind you. You finished eating as you wash the dishes, putting them back on the usual place. True to your words, your husband has been waiting to talk to you.

You were about to head out for school until he called you. "You want a divorce..?" He bluntly asked, still sitting on the couch with a book in his right hand. You were about to reply however he suddenly added. "Forget it. Let's talk about it after you came back." He resumes reading his book again, as if he didn't just ask a serious question. You don't need to ask him for you to know that he had a day off. With that, you simply nod your head and walk out of the house.

author's note: taglist is open!!

est. 010323

do not copy, translate and repost my work.

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x reader

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headcannonsbutwrittenbyasnake · 9 months

Text

Some of My Genshin Impact mains (current and past) but as cat personalities I've seen and lived with

Xiao

The "Unhand me Fool! I Will Paint the wa- Oh hey, This is nice."

Violence is his love language <3

Was probably found in a trash can alone and feral

SMALL, like mistaken as a kitten despite being full grown small, with sleek black fur and yellow eyes. If it wasn't for the small bits of green on the tips of his tail and ears he would blend in with the shadows

Again- feral, but a ride or die once you get his trust

You don't need a guard dog with him around

Actually you don't need anyone around!!!!(he's jealous)

God forbid you're talking on the phone around him

He won't do anything to you, he just stares

If he's asleep around you, and you leave while he's still asleep and he wakes up- he panics

Where are you?? Did you just up and leave? Did he do something bad in his sleep? He just panics until you come back

"Xiao what's the matter? Did something spook you?" "Meow meow!" (You came back! You do still love me!)

Seriously he kinda has attachment issues... if it's just the two of you living together. With the other cats. He's... fine with them, doesn't really trust them at first

Decides Razor and Albedo makes good company

Is on okay terms with Kokomi and Tighnari,

With Wanderer and Al-haitham, it's on sight

They'll play nice if you're around, but one you leave the house, it's go time

After the fight, it doesn't really matters who wins, they just need to make sure you don't find out.

Kokomi and Tighnari fix their fur and make sure the house is in order while the winner sits in the window, waiting for you to come home, and the loser sulks.

Razor

The "I'm Totally a Cat, Trust me!"

A scruffy, medium-sized, light grey cat, not a kitten but also not full grown. Kinda in that awkward cat phase

Probably found by someone's pet dog

Dog just took a look at scruffy little Razor and thought "Alright you're mine," but the dogs owner is, conventional, allergic to cats

So now he's yours :D

Can't really meow. Kinda just squeaks and/or howls

He just doesn't cat

Doesn't like tall places, takes bits of water instead of just dipping his tongue in, likes playing in water and mud, forgets to clean himself constantly, and just all-around is bad at being a cat

Is fine with being alone for a few hours, but he can't sleep alone. He needs so be with you or on you to sleep

Isn't violent or aggressive to humans or other animals in the slightest, but with bugs and mice. Well they don't last long in your house

Loves living with other cats

Even if Xiao at first hissed at him or Wanderer smacked him on the noggin, he just keeps trying to be their friend

It worked with Xiao, jury's still out on Wanderer

Tighnari's teaching him how to be a cat and Kokomi and Albedo are making sure his fur keeps clean and nice looking

Other than that he's just happy to have more friends in the house

Kokomi

The "Tiny and Cute, but Beats the Neighborhood Dogs Daily."

Menace to society

A medium-to-small sized cat with sleek light pink fur, fading into a light powdery blue at her paws, her ears, and the tip of her tail

Could be a show cat if she wasn't so much of a trickster

She isn't mean, just smart. Waaaay too smart

Likes going outside and luring dogs into her traps

Again nothing mean or life threatening, just kinda funny

Like luring them over puddles that are deeper then they look, or taunting them to lunge at her only to watch them face-plant into a glass door or scaring them with their reflection

Doesn't trick you, you're her favorite human!

Not really a snuggle cat, but likes laying on you and having the occasional head scratches

Over all, a pretty good, mostly normal cat

I say mostly because if she sees any water, she wants in it

Sink full of soapy water? She doesn't care, let her swim. A bathtub of warm water? Ah her favorite. A fish tank with no cover? Well the fish are luck she doesn't see them as prey! A whole swimming pool? Sign her up, she's swimming laps!

If you have a cup of water and aren't paying attention, she's going to stick her paws into it. Not to drink, just to swish around

Flat out leads the other cats like an army

Oh? The mice are trying to invade thier land? Alright, Razor go get Xiao and Wanderer

Outside of the mouse turf wars, or other threats to tge house, she doesn't really interact with them much

Wanderer

The "Appears out of Nowhere Just to Watch you Scream, (you Swear he's Laughing.)"

Roughly the same size as Xiao, but less malnourished

Literally just the cat in his story quest (or was it in the Archon quest, I can't remember.)

Was left at a cat shelter and considered un-adoptable, but you said fuck it and took him home

Has little dog syndrome despite being a cat

You swear he teleports

You turn around for one second, then turn back, and he's there

Snickers when you jump, and pouts when you catch him off guard

Be careful when you pet him, he tends to get overwhelmed easily.

And then he bites

Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark

After a while though he gets more comfortable with it

The type of cat to sleep on your face

Also very picky about food and what water

Only drinks ice water (spoiled brat)

Has an ongoing rivalry with Xiao

They often see who can catch the most 'invaders' (i.e. the mice, bugs, and other pest)

While he might seem like he hates the other cats, he's the first one to jump into the fray for them

Did once absolutely decimate a dog because it was chasing Kokomi (he didn't know the chase was part of her plan)

Albedo

The "Hey I found this, I want to keep it." And also "What are you doing? Where are you going? What are you eating?"

A medium sized, kinda fluffy, blonde cat with bright blue eyes. Also has a strange marking on his neck, kinda like a scar

Just kinda walks in through a open window one day, and stayed

Nosy real fucking nosy.

A shopping bag- What's in it? Oh you bought a new backpack- let's see if he can fit in it! On the phone? With who?

A leash cat

Please let him explore around, he's so curious

Will bring you LIVE mice- just don't scream or else he will panic and drop it

Will also bring you other things too

Rocks, feathers, bottle caps, a kitten, twigs

Wait a kitten?

Yep, he brought home a little blonde kitten with red eyes. I think you can guess who it is...

He is now her parental unit.

He tries to keep her out of trouble, but it's kinda hard.

Him and Klee have accidentally broken something on multiple occasions

They both sit in the corner ashamed of themselves

Albedo is not really a 'cuddle' cat

Or a 'people' cat (atleast people who aren't you)

If you have guest over, he'll just watch

Not with a mean or angry look, just looking

Him and Tighnari are planing something, you don't know what it is, and it's suspicious

(The plan is just how to wrangle in Wanderer when you're gone)

Al-haitham

The "Please for the love of God don't ask me to do anything other than the bare minimum."

A large, fluffy, grey cat. Has a little spot of green on his chest

Such a pretty cat, but has such an awful attitude

Well that is to anyone but you

Doesn't catch mice or bugs, doesn't do much of anything

He just want to lay in the sun and nap

Gets grumpy if anyone wakes him

Doesn't like Xiao because he tried to get him to do things (Xiao thinks he's a freeloader)

Hides from Razor because he keeps trying to play with him

You know that video of the cat just letting the automatic toy hit them in the face- yeah that Al-haitham

Just wants to do nothing with you

He's laying on your lap whether you like it or not

Don't try to stand up, he'll just dig his nails in

Read to him, he might look like he's napping but he's listening to everything you say

The type of cat to meow if you talk to him

"What do you think? This or that?" "Mreow,"

Shockingly, will use cat beds

Also likes to sleep in clean laundry, that you just folded

The reason you need to now check the dryer before you put wet clothes in

You know those cat who like to lay in the most uncomfortable position? Yeah that's Al-haitham

Tighnari

The "I Have a Schedule and you Will Stick to it!"

A medium sized cat with fluffy dark, nearly black, green fur that has spots of light green around his ears and tail.

He has large ears and a bushy tail, honestly might just be a cat-like fox, but it's hard to tell

You will wake up at 6am on the dot or else

The 'else' is just him screaming at the top of his lungs

Can probably read the clock

He has a routine: Wake up, breakfast, pest hunting, lunch, nap #1, cuddle time, dinner, run around like the devil himself is coming to finally collect your soul, nap #2, stop Xiao and Wanderer from killing each other, more cuddling, make the human get ready for bed, make sure everyone is in bed, then go to bed.

The only reason there is some semblance of order in this house

Like seriously if it wasn't for him, the other would have found a way to burn the house down

Breaks up any fights, stops the others from getting into to much trouble, and making sure Razor keeps his fur clean

Strangly protective of any plants around the house

The only time he'll out right hiss and swip at the others

No Razor! You can't dig around the plant pots, you'll kill them! No, don't eat the leaves!

#genshin alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #alhaitham #tighnari #genshin tighnari #xiao #genshin xiao #genshin razor #genshin kokomi #genshin wanderer #genshin cat au #albedo genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader

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rinrinx2 · 1 year

Note

Hello! If your requests are still open can I request mixed smut scenario with - reader has a crush on Kishibe and enemies to lovers with it being a smut? I dont know if I should elaborate/describe it more but something among the lines of reader thinking he only has eyes for quanxi and never seeing her as a woman, so she goes on dates with both guys and girls her age, even trying to date Aki who kissed her during one mission, little did she know that a certain older devil hunter was jealous and angry, while reader feels like her big crush on an older and experienced man is unprofessional and wrong and is embarassed about it since she isn't very experienced with men? In reality Kishibe got over Quanxi a bit after she joined the work of being a devil hunter, but she thought she would die faster than Kobeni so he was a bit cold and mean to her but loved each minute he trained, drank, talked to her? and one day confronts her about it on a mission and they argue like they always do, so he fights with the reader and pins them or something? I apologize if you didn't need a description, have a nice day!

Hope you like it <3

Picking a fight

Kishibe x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Inappropriate language, Mature themes, Adult themes, against the wall, unprotected, cream pie, breeding implied, mentions of death.

*Text in this font this indicates events from the past*

You would of preferred having anyone over your current partner literally anyone was better than the older man who held your interests so deeply.

"Would you stop panicking" Kishibe commented as you walked cautiously through the abandoned apartment complex.

"I'm not panicking I'm just nervous" you replied back.

"Nervous" he mocked with snicker as he rolled his eyes at the remark.

You hated how snarky and sarcastic Kishibe was with you, but you hated yourself more for finding it so attractive the way he would diffuse the most tense scenarios with an obvious remark.

A trait of his that you both loved and despised, just as Quanxi did, which made you snap back to the reality. As much as you had a crush on the older man it would only remain a crush as he was taken with Quanxi and only a fool would go against her.

"Head in dreamland already" Kishibe commented again as your mind lingered still on Quanxi.

"Well continue to be in dreamland and the demon will kill you and you'll stay there" Kishibe continued as he now walked ahead of you.

"Why do you always have to say things like that, you know how I feel about ... dying" you replied back, now with an air of worry in your voice.

Kishibe rolled his eyes once again at your worry. You were constantly plagued with worries of your death even when he trained you that was all that would leave your lips.

The thoughts of death started to manifest in your head and before you knew it you were thinking back to your training. Back to when these thoughts were scary enough to turn you away from your current life.

"How often do devil hunters die?" You questioned as you sat on the training mat.

"4 out of 5 don't make it" Kishibe replied while he took a deep inhale of the cigarette placed between his soft lips.

Your irises became as small as pins at the mention that there was a high percentage rate that you wouldn't even make it pass your first mission.

"Well if you lucky maybe the demon won't even bother with killing you, I mean a girl such as yourself would die from missing a step on a staircase" Kishibe said blowing the smoke down onto your face. That was the start of your relationship not only as student and mentor but as pickering partners.

"I'm being serious here (Y/N), stop letting your mind linger. We're getting closer" Kishibe said turning back looking at you with a face painted with irritation.

You starred back at him, slightly shaking your head as you snapped out of the memory your mind drifted to. Now facing back at the reality you were going into.

You looked at the different apartment doors as you continued your journey through the passages, noting how each door seemed to look normal yet something seemed to be off.

Just as you were about to ask about your surroundings you heard the snarky remarks of the older man begin.

"Your head so caught up on Aki that you not paying attention again" he said not even bothering to look back this time.

"What!" You replied back now with slight anger in your voice.

"Don't what me, we all know on your last mission you and Aki ended up having more fun than you were supposed to"

"Aki and I did nothing" you snapped back, now refusing to move a step forward.

"Oh please, we heard how he did you against the wall" Kishibe said now full on laughing at the idea.

"I didn't do it with Aki, we just kissed and it wasn't even like a proper kiss just a touch of our lips" you said now thinking back to your last mission, how Aki's lips were pressed against yours. You could still feel the warm of his lips against yours.

"Yeah whatever, you probably wouldn't mind dying on a mission with Aki" Kishibe said as he was about to reach for his flask.

Just as his hand grabbed the cold metal flask the flooring the two of you stood on began to shift, causing you to lose your balance.

"Shit" Kishibe said underneath his breath.

Your could feel your breathing began to speed up and feel the worry of death flood through your veins. You had been in many situations before but none like this. The walls were beginning to swallow you and the floors pulling your further in.

Your body was trapped within itself unable to move, and Kishibe soon noticed this when you weren't responding to him as he called out to you.

"Fuck (Y/N) move!" He yelled as grabbed your hand, pulling into some apartment with the door left open.

Kishibe threw you into the apartment, barely making it into it himself.

The cold floor against your skin did little to relieve the evident shock still traveling through your body.

Kishine looked down at your frozen figure and soon began to worry at you state.

"(Y/N) don't fucking go into shock" he said as he quickly flopped down to the floor starting to violently shake you back into consciousness of your surroundings.

"Come on, listen to my voice. You're safe here" Kishibe said as he began to hold you in his arms.

"You're safe, (Y/N). You're safe" he repeated over and over as he placed his hand on your head soothingly petting your head.

You remained still eyes still glossed over with fear, and heart still beating erratically. You could hear Kishibe voice in your mind, and began to focus on it, listening as every syllable hit against your ear letting it soak into your brain until you could feel yourself in your body.

Kishibe watched as your once frozen body quickly moved out of his arms as you took deep breathes distancing yourself from him.

"Why would you do that!" You yelled out to the older male.

"Save you?" He questioned as he remained seated on the floor as you slowly began to rise to your feet.

"No, talk about dying. You know what it does to me" you replied back with a bark.

"You've got to be kidding me" Kishibe said rhetorically as he now stood back on his feet, with his hand coming to his temples at your accusations.

"You use to train me and you knew about my worries of death, you know I'm scared to die in this field of work and then you go ahead and talk about it while we're on a mission" you continued to yell with a face full of anger.

"Calm down you're, you sound like that Kobeni girl the way you're getting worked up over nothing"

"Nothing! The floor tried to eat me, Kishibe!"

"Yeah but are you dead" he said with that sarcastic tone that had you going livid.

"Can you stop with that, I'm not your little girlfriend Quanxi that enjoys that demeaning tone in the face of death!"

"Quanxi?! I don't even like Quanxi since she began to work as a devil hunter, so you even going on about this is pointless" Kishibe yelled as he looked at you with a bitterly.

"Don't lie to me, I see the way you look at her. You love her and I've been trying everything to get over you even going on dates with girls and boys just to get you out of my mind. All you see me as is that dumb little girl you trained!" You shouted back pointing an accusing finger at Kishibe who now walked over to where you stood.

"Don't fucking stand here and say I've been making you jealous with Quanxi, when you're the one going about kissing co-workers" Kishibe said as there was only 3 steps away from you now.

"You think I enjoy hearing the woman I fantasize about kissing another man" Kishibe said now moving a step closer as you moved one back.

"You think I see you as some scared little girl, well you couldn't be more wrong" Kishibe said irritatedly as you back was now against some wall as he now stood face to face with you.

"You have no idea how I have thought about you at night, the way you look, the way you walk, the way you talk, everything about you drives me insane and the only thing stopping me from doing anything is because an old man like me should not be fucking his younger colleague"

Now it was Kishibe whose face was contorted with a scowl while yours remained with shock as you looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted as he had just confessed how his feelings mirrored yours.

"Kishibe I want you to fuck me" you said quietly, barely above a whisper as your eyes looked into his, hoping that he would both hear you and wouldn't.

"I've been dying to hear those words" Kishibe said as he dove his head down to yours.

His hands now grabbing yours that were at your side pinning them above your head, as he passionately kissed you. His tongue sliding against your own feeling the warmth of your mouth against his.

His lips left yours as it now traveled down to your neck, feeling as his tongue slid against the column of your neck making your grasp out for air.

"Kishibe" you moaned out at the sensation of pleasure.

Kishibe removed his one hand that from above your head, now moving it lower till it was at the hem of your pencil skirt.

"Want me to fuck you now or after I kill this demon?" Kishibe whispered into your ear, causing a tingle to run down your spine.

"Now" you said quietly with your head lowered.

Within a second your skirt was now pulled up and your panties were being pulled down with one hand as the other was quickly pulling Kishibe pants down.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good that the demon is going to hear you moan" he snickered out as he got his cock out from his pants.

You looked in amazement at his cock, that was stood 10-inches big with a thick vein on the underside and two heavy breeder balls that caused pre-cum to shine on Kishibe slit.

"Take a nice look cause this is going in you" he said as he now fully removed your panties. He grabbed your hips lifting your up so now that your pussy was hovering above his cock.

You could feel his pre-cum against your soaked pussy, causing your to gush out more.

Just as you were about to moan out for him to enter, you felt his cockhead begin to slip in.

His felt as his cock split your pussy fold open, sliping it in causing you to moan out in satisfaction.

You felt ad Kishibe bottom out in you, not moving as he allowed you to get use to his size.

Your pussy fluttered against Kishibe's cock as it took it all in. You looked down between your bodies noting how your legs were wet with your slick and his pre-cum and back up into Kishibe's eyes watching as his eyes held lust in them.

Your lips slowly reconnected to his as he began to thrust up into you, each thrust knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Oh Kishibe" you moaned out against his lips, feeling the way his cock rubbed perfectly against your pussy walls.

Kishibe could feel the way your pusst tightened with each thrust, which only made him more feral to breed you.

"Your pussy need my cum doesn't it" he said in that sarcastic demeaning tone that had you seeing stars.

Kishibe began to quickening his pace, as he fucked you senselessly against the wall, the only sound being that over your moans and slapping of your wet pussy against his soaked balls.

Your pussy was spasming around his cock, taking in the way he drilled you so perfecting making your claw into his back.

Kishibe could sense you were close, your pussy was already milking him and your nipples were as hard as rocks as he could see them through your bra.

"Cum for me baby" Kishibe said as he rutted into you, his cock head nudging deep into your soft walls.

Your pussy was overflowing with cock and your vision became spotty as you felt the coil in yout tummy began to slip until it finally loosened.

Hot liquid began to gush from you onto Kishibe as you came hard, gripping onto him as your road out your orgasm against his cock.

Your actions causing Kishibe to shot hot white semen deep inside your pussy, as you milked him dry.

Kishibe remained still for a moment allowing you to catch yout breath before gently bringing your back down to the ground.

He gently helped your slip you back into your panties before slipping his cock back into his pants.

Kishibe looked at you with a smile, looking at your fucked out expression.

"Let's make a deal" he said causing your eyes to light up with interest.

"Let's go kill this demon, but if you spill a drop of cum from your pussy I get to fuck more into you after this mission"

"Deal"

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