#so when it comes down to seeing the shrine she just gives up what little hope she has and pivots to taking care of her child | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sea-lanterns · 9 months

Text

LET'S GET MARRIED!

synopsis: (childhood AU!) various genshin women proposing to you as children

featuring: miko, hu tao, dehya, ningguang

rating: sfw (anyone can interact)

warnings: gn! child reader, genshin women as children, fluff, puppy love, love at first sight, mentions of death (hu tao), funerals (hu tao), bullying (dehya), violence (dehya), poverty, may be ooc since they are children, not proofread.

art credits: whisper me a love song

MIKO

As a young kitsune, Miko was unable to transform into her human form due to a lack of strength and natural willpower. So, it was common for the yokai to be seen wandering around the shrine as a small fox, eating little snacks given to her by the shrine maidens, and terrorizing tiny children like the menace she was.

You’ve heard stories of a pink fox roaming the Narukami Shrine, but you didn’t think much of it when you sat down at a nearby bench to enjoy your lunch. Pulling out a small packet of your favorite chips, you tore it open before hearing a slight, rustling sound coming from within the bushes.

Rustle rustle rustle.

You looked up to see one of the bushes in front of you moving, the branches shaking wildly before something pink and fluffy tumbled out from below.

A pink, fluffy, fox.

Miko had stumbled out of the plant with her fur all messy and tousled with leaves. A small yip leaving her mouth, as she shook like a wet dog and growled. Oh no, you’ve heard of this fox before. This was the terror of the Narukami Shrine, the infamous child attacker of Inazuma, the one, the only:

Yae Miko.

She sneezed as leaves blew out of her fur, before twitching her nose at the smell of your food. Once she caught a whiff of what you had in your lap, her eyes narrowed and she started glaring at you. Damn, even as a child, Miko still had that intimidating glare that could put an archon in their place, intimidating you with just a scowl before strutting up to you with confidence.

“…Hello?” You timidly say, looking down at the fox with worry. “You’re…you’re the fox that attacks kids, right? Please don’t hurt me, I’m just trying to eat my lunch.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. Even though she couldn’t speak, it felt like she was degrading you.

“…Uhm. Do you want some? I can give you some if you like.”

Her tummy grumbled at an embarrassing time, causing her to only flatten her ears.

“…Okay.” You timidly reached into your bag and pulled out a small chip. Hesitantly, you held it out to her and waited for her to crawl up to you. “I hope it’s not that salty. I know kitsune taste buds can be pretty sensitive, so it’s okay if you don’t like it—”

She lunged forward to sniff the chip before biting onto it and gnawing like a dog. Cronch cronch cronch. She had crumbs spill all over the floor, but she seemed pretty satisfied overall, looking up at you for more. “Oh! Do you want some more?” She nodded, her tail starting to wag. “I can give you more, then!”

You ended up sharing half your lunch with the kitsune. Throwing her whatever you found in your lunchbox, and watching her devour it on the floor of the shrine. After a while, she seemed to have taken a liking to you and jumped on the bench beside you to lie down, letting out a content, purring noise. After that little interaction, you started coming to the shrine more often to feed and hang out with the little fox. Weeks passing by of this little friendship, you didn’t think your routine would change until one, fateful, day.

As you climbed up the steps leading to your favorite spot, you saw not the fox you’ve grown so accustomed to, but a small, pink haired girl around your age. She was waiting patiently on the bench you always sat at, before her ear twitched, indicating that she noticed you.

Turning around, she had those same lilac eyes as your little foxy friend, as they glimmered in a way that felt so familiar to you the more you stared.

“Finally, you came!” The girl said exasperatedly, folding her arms and pouting at you. “I was waiting all day! You keep a girl hungry, you know.”

“I— sorry?” You looked so confused when she ran up to you and grabbed your lunch. “Hey—!”

“So, what did you bring this time? Fried tofu for Friday? I hope so…”

“Hey! Those are for my fox friend!” You exclaimed, snatching your lunchbox back. “I don’t even know you!”

“Are you dumb? I am your fox friend!” The girl yelled back, tugging the lunchbox back. “It’s me, Yae Miko!”

“Miko?!” Your eyes widened and you took a step back. No way, how could this bratty and sassy child be Yae Miko? “No way…”

“Yes way! I was able to transform into my human form the other night. I’m strong enough now!” She grinned proudly and showed off her canine teeth. Although a bit bratty and too overconfident, you could tell it was actually her due to her unique markings and fluffy, pink, ears. “Now, hand over the tofu! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

You pouted and handed her the takeout box with tofu inside. “…Fine.”

She grinned and looked at you smugly before taking the carton out of your hands. “Thank you…!” She began eating with the elegance of a toddler before pausing her chewing mid way. “By the way, since I can talk now, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Huh?” You gasped when she suddenly jumped on top of you and looked at you with those curious eyes.

“I’ve decided I want to marry you when we get older.”

“What?!”

She smiled at you before hugging you close. Wanting to feel you in a way that had your little heart beating. “You heard me, I want to marry you! That way, you’ll feed me yummy food forever!” She exclaimed, staring at you in a way you couldn’t refuse. “Please?”

“I— o-okay…” your tiny kid's heart didn’t have the guts to refuse, so the moment you said yes, Miko smiled and nuzzled you close. “Hurray! Now you can feed me fried tofu for the rest of our lives!”

If only you knew, she would marry you for reasons other than fried tofu…

HU TAO

Funerals were typically held on rainy days like in the movies, so why was yours held on such a bright and sunny day?

You stared at the coffin in front of you with regret, regret for not being with your grandmother more, as she passed away in her sleep due to old age. The funeral was directed by Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, which meant you had an untimely encounter with the director’s eccentric granddaughter.

She was so…strangely upbeat. Of course, she paid her respects to the dead, mourning in a way to convey her sadness. But she was still quite the spunky one and you couldn’t help but get irritated at how nonchalant she was.

There she was, prancing around the funeral giving jolly orders like it was nothing. You knew it was a part of her job, but did she really have to be so happy about it? You were slightly annoyed and went to sit by the pond to take a breather, pulling at the itchy black clothes your parents made you wear, before feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

“Grandma…” your tiny voice trembled, sniffing and wiping away your tears, trying your best not to cry in front of all your family members.

“Yoo-hoo? Does someone need a tissue?” You heard a voice call, gentle footsteps walking up from behind and dangling a napkin in front of your face. “Better wipe up that runny nose, your face is too cute to be all snotty!”

“Hu Tao…” you frowned, taking her offered napkin and looking away. “Please go away, I’m not in the mood to play right now…”

Her face softened at the sight of you trying to hide your tears. Shamelessly trying to wipe your runny nose while hiding the fact that you were crying. “Okay…I guess I’ll go…”

Before she could leave however, your hand instinctively reached out to grab her sleeve, tugging her back. “No wait, I…” you grimaced and stared down at the floor. “I’m sorry, please stay…” Even though you were still annoyed, you still wanted the comfort of another person. Even if that person was Hu Tao.

“Oh? Ah, okay…” Hu Tao immediately sat down beside you and looked at you with worry. “…Your eyes are really puffy, you know.”

“I know.” You mumble tiredly, wiping your nose with your sleeve and staring at the water. “I haven’t cried like this in a while.”

“Understandable. I mean, your grandma pa—” she stopped herself from saying more before slowly hugging her knees. “Ah…sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You mutter, a deafening silence overcoming you two. “You’re just trying to help.”

Another awkward silence. Usually Hu Tao was more talkative when it came to the two of you, but right now she was quiet as she sat down beside you and picked at the grass. While the adults in the background talked amongst themselves, Hu Tao finally snapped out of it and reached a hand out for you to take.

“…Hug?” She asked softly, opening her arms like a baby bear cub.

“…Hug.” You say quietly, moving over to hug her while trying your best not to sob all over her shoulder. “There there. No need to hold back.” Hu Tao says reassuringly, squeezing you tightly. “You can snot over my shirt if you want. I have others.”

“No, ew.” You chuckle through your sobs. “That’s disgusting.”

“Well, I don’t mind if it makes you feel better…” she murmurs against your ear. “I don’t like seeing you so upset.”

“I don’t normally get so upset, sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. I just want to cheer you up.”

She patted your back comfortingly, before placing her hat on top of your head. “You know, I wish we could hang out more often. You seem like a pretty cool kid.” She smiles brightly at you before pulling away from the hug. “I wanna be with you more! Not just at the funeral parlor.”

“Sniff, really?” You blinked your tears away and looked up at her.

“Really.” She says with a smile, cupping your hands. “…Actually, I have an idea!”

She plucked a dandelion sprout from the ground and got down on one knee, holding out the flower to your face. “Let’s get married when we’re older! That way, I can cheer you up whenever we’re together!”

Your face flushed at the sudden proposal and you immediately panicked. “Ah, wait! Aren’t marriages a serious thing? Don’t you have to be in love for that to happen?”

“Pfft! Who cares? Marriages make people happy, so I wanna make you happy too…”

She slipped the dandelion between your ear and smiled, giving you a smile you would soon see walking down the altar…

DEHYA

You ran down the streets of your hometown, trying to avoid all the bullies chasing your tail and diving down random alleyways to lose them as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for you however, you found yourself at a dead end with nowhere else to go, a bunch of big kids getting ready to make you their next target, as they took the liberty of picking up rocks to throw at you.

“Ah, come on! Can’t you leave me alone just this once?” You looked aggravated and fearful for your life, backing up against the hardened brick wall that led to your demise. “Don’t you get tired of picking on me all the time? Find something else to do!”

Your desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as they got ready to launch their rocks. You sighed and crouched down on the ground, trying to cover your head for the inevitable pain you were going to feel.

“Okay, just please make it quick…”

You squeezed your eyes shut and resisted the urge to cry, bracing yourself for the impact that…strangely never came?

Instead, you heard the loud yells of a rugged and tomboyish girl, the sounds of kids screaming in fear, before footsteps sprinted away from you. The sounds slowly grew quieter and quieter, leaving you to open your eyes and see a pretty, short-haired girl standing in front of you.

“They’re gone now, I chased them away for you.” Was all she said before extending her hand out. “Are you okay? Did they hit you or anything?”

Your cheeks flushed hot at the sight of her trying to help you, as the girl was very pretty and the way she was staring at you with those piercing blue eyes made your heart leap with relief. What was this feeling? Could it be? Did you finally develop one of those things called crushes?

You realized she was still staring at you and shook your head no.

“Ah, no…they didn’t.” You slowly took her hand and stood up. “I’m okay, thanks.”

“You sure? Your knee looks pretty bad.”

You looked down to see what she was pointing at and sure enough, you had somehow scraped your knee during the chase. “Oh, I guess I didn’t notice…” you brushed off some sand that had gotten on it and winced. “Don’t worry, it’s just a scrape. It’ll heal.”

“Not if it gets infected.” She huffs, grabbing your hand with her own. Wow, even for a kid as young as you, she sure was strong. “Come on, I’ll take you back to my tent. My name’s Dehya by the way.”

She tugs you down to follow her to her camp and makes you sit down, grabbing all the medical supplies her arms could carry before setting them down in front of you.

“Uhm, do you know how to use these? Only grownups should use alcohol.” You scrunched up your nose at the sight, causing Dehya to laugh beautifully.

“Pfft, you’re thinking of the wrong kind of alcohol,” she grins, applying some on a piece of gauze. “That’s drinking alcohol, it’s the kind that makes grownups all dizzy and say funny things. This is rubbing alcohol.”

She gently applies the gauze to your scrape and watches you hiss in pain. The moment she sees tears well up in your eyes though, she immediately grabs your hand.

“Ah—! I’m sorry, but this has to be done! My dad told me you have to disinfect wounds so you don’t get germs on it!” She squeezed your hand in comfort, helping you push through the pain before setting the gauze down to begin bandaging you. “I know it hurts, but adults go through scary injuries all the time and have to go through the same thing. You can be brave for me, right?”

She looks up at you with those piercing blue eyes and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“Hah! That’s the spirit!” She smiles and finishes wrapping up your knee. “There, all done! Can you walk?”

You shakily got up on wobbly knees before almost falling backwards, if not for Dehya instinctively catching you. “…Huh. Seems like you need a bit more recovery.”

She helps you sit back down before frowning after a few moments. “Actually, I have to ask, how long have you been bullied by those bigger kids?”

“Ah, for a little while…” you mumble in response, hiding your face in shame. “It’s okay, they’ll get bored of me eventually.”

“Eventually?” Dehya’s face furrowed with anger. “No! I’m not gonna let them keep bullying you! You deserve better!” She huffs and grabs your hand, before dramatically getting down on one knee. “I’m going to protect you till the end of time. My dad said that you should always protect those who can’t protect themselves, so I’m doing that for you!”

“But—”

She looked at you with such fiery determination and you shut up immediately.

“No buts. I’ve decided I’m going to stick with you for as long as I can.” She smiled and held your hands, leaning in close with a grin. “Perhaps we’ll even get married…”

Your eyes widened at the idea. Married to Dehya? I mean, it’s not like you were opposed to it…

“Married? Oh, uh, alright….” Dehya smiled and patted your head.

“Good. I’ll make sure you’re safe as long as you’re with me.”

She bows down to you like a knight would before taking your hand and kissing it.

“That’s what a good wife does after all…”

NINGGUANG

Due to living in poverty, little tiny Ningguang had to make a living by selling seashells on the beach. She didn’t have time to play with the other kids, or go eat lunch with them by the pier, so she ended up not having a lot of friends to talk to, due to her poor upbringing and determination for money.

She would’ve ended up alone if not for you, a humble, yet curious child who took interest in what Ningguang wanted to sell. They were mostly handmade wares and shells she found lying on the beach, so there wasn’t really anything of high value. Despite that however, you were intrigued, and moved a little closer to take a look at what Ningguang had to offer.

She noticed you, standing up abruptly to present whatever she thought would interest you. “You seem rather enveloped by my jewelry,” Ningguang says, lifting up one of the trays of rings. “They’re all handcrafted and personally made by me. The pearls you see are freshly harvested from oysters found by the Liyue docks.”

She looked proud of her little business spiel and gently took your hand into hers. “Would you like to try one? I can help you find your ring size.”

Despite her living in rags and dirt, you couldn’t help but find her beautiful as she looked up at you with gemstone-brimmed eyes. Blinking up at you in a beautiful shade of scarlet, as her warm smile brought you newfound feelings you’ve never felt before. What were those feelings you may ask? Perhaps something akin to fascination, or perhaps…a small crush?

Nevertheless, you knew this girl was beautiful, and wanted to get to know her better. After browsing around her selection of wares for you to purchase from, your eyes landed on a particular set of jewelry. “Are these a set? They both match…” you ask with curiosity, picking up one of the rings.

“Yes, I made those two in mind for a couple who happened to be walking by.” She picks up the second one in the pair and holds it out to you. “They are matching rings and can symbolize anything. Romance, friendship, familial bond…”

She smiles at you and gently slips one of the pairs onto your finger. “Here, it seems to fit onto you perfectly. Do you like it?”

You did. It was absolutely beautiful and you admired the glittering pearl like it was the second prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. (The first one being Ningguang)

“It’s beautiful. But…” your eyes moved down to the matching pair in the set. “I don’t have anyone to match with…”

Ningguang raised a brow at this. Well, you could always buy another ring, so it’s not like this was a big deal.

“Oh? That’s a shame. Then perhaps you could get something else? Or, even just take one of the pairs and leave the other.” She thought quite logically about the situation and didn’t seem bothered by your dilemma. After giving her suggestion, she was a bit confused as to why you looked so upset. “Uh…is something the matter?”

“We can’t just separate the pair!” You exclaim, your childishness shining through. “They’d get lonely knowing the other pair is somewhere else…”

“But they’re just…rings?” Ningguang looked confused as to what you were throwing a fuss about. “Rings don’t have feelings!”

“You don’t know that!” You shout back, holding one of the rings close to your chest. “It needs to know it matches with someone. Then it’ll fulfill its purpose in life…”

Poor Ningguang looked so confused at the whole ordeal before sighing in slight disbelief. Perhaps she was a bit too mature for her age to understand, but it seemed that splitting the rings apart was troubling you to a great degree.

“Alright, I have an idea…” Ningguang murmurs, taking the second half of the pair and slipping it onto her finger. “You can keep that one, and I will keep this one. That way we will match.”

Your eyes lit up at this solution. “So we can be…a bonded pair?” You ask quietly, looking at her with intrigue.

Dammit. Little Ningguang’s face blushed and she couldn’t help but grow flustered. “Yes, we can be a bonded pair…” she grumbles, ignoring the way you were starting to look cute.

“Hurray!” You smile gleefully, slipping the ring on and handing you some mora. “Now we can pretend to be married! Like real couples!”

She felt the blood rush to her face as she looked down at the matching ring in her hand, a spur of newfound feelings bubbling in her chest, as Ningguang had never felt this way before.

From that day forward, Ningguang vowed to become the richest woman in Liyue. All for the sole purpose of potentially buying you a real ring to marry…

#yae miko x reader #miko x reader #hu tao x reader #dehya x reader #ningguang x reader #genshin x reader #genshin women x reader #genshin impact imagines

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wileys-russo · 7 months

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I'm not sure if you listened, if not you should it's so funny!

but could you do the reader on Jill's scotts coffee club podcast with georgia, leah and keira when leah whips out the cake? x

decided to make this a lowkey stanners x williamson!reader cause i love gee and she's underrated

colin the caterpillar II g.stanway

"-williamson i see you loitering about! get in here!" you looked up as you heard the ever familiar booming voice of one jill scott gesture you over. you caught georgia's eye as her and keira swiveled their heads, furiously waving you over to join them on the sofa, the set for jills podcast randomly plonked in the middle of the indoor training pitch.

"have you still got media duties babe?" your girlfriend asked, moving the microphone away from her mouth and you shook your head. "right in you come then!" keira moved over and patted the space in between her and georgia.

"is this live?" you asked as you took a seat, flashing a grin at jill and ben as you settled yourself on the sofa, your girlfriends spare arm coming to settle on your shoulders. "-and now we are joined by one of the worlds greatest strikers!" jill started, doing a drum roll on her knees.

"-but unfortunately alessia russo has been dodging my calls so we've had to settle for y/n williamson, round of applause please!" jill joked as you playfully rolled your eyes at the dig, showered in claps from the small crowd around you.

"you know you've never asked me on this show jilly, what happened to being your favourite williamson?" you tutted, one of the production assistants hurrying over to give you a mic.

"i had to keep that under wraps, had to suck up to the captain you know!" jill winked as you grinned, leaning a little more into georgia and crossing your legs. "jill might be the best suck up with the worst success rate we've ever met." keira announced as you and georgia hummed in agreement, ben egging you on to continue.

"she sucked up to sarina and the training team so much during the euros man. she'd be getting drinks, recounting plays, grabbing everyone gels-" you laughed at the memory. "-but then georgia could be on her death bed with cramp and jill would still stay on the bench." keira finished, jill agreeing as you all laughed along.

"oh no sorry interruption cause leah's just bought a colin the caterpillar!" keira gasped as she spotted your sister wandering close by with her birthday cake in hand. "go on birthday girl in you come!" you called out as she came closer, jill eagerly agreeing she sit down.

"cmere love." georgias hands found your waist, tugging you up to sit sideways on her lap as keira shuffled across and leah plonked herself down on the end, your legs half draped over keira as georgias hands wound themselves round your waist protectively and she softly kissed the back of your neck.

you were aware parts of the podcast were filmed but neither of you were bothered, it had hardly been the worlds best kept secret the two of you were seeing one another.

georgias instagram was almost like a shrine to you at this point. the two of you both playing for bayern, much to your north london blooded sisters disgust, you spent everyday together and only fell more and more in love as time passed.

"can we eat it?" georgia asked with a gasp as leah nodded, cracking open the box and gently sliding out the childhood favourite. "i think surely i win best sister for gettin her that?" you clapped for yourself, everyone joining in but leah who rolled her eyes.

"no cause you gave it to me after you smashed a cupcake in my literal eye at breakfast!" leah huffed, handing over the cake to keira after she took a large. "it was your forehead leah honestly! you win most dramatic." you countered, the blonde leaning over to smack your leg for the comment as you grinned.

"now now girls play nice play nice!" jill laughed, re-directing the conversation as keira snapped you off a section of cake which you accepted, happily smashing a large portion into your mouth before holding it over your shoulder for your girlfriend to do the same.

"ah i've never been so happy." georgia sighed contently as the two of you took turns munching away at the chocolate cake. "babe thats my finger!" you smacked her with a yelp as the girl got a little too eager and bit your finger among the cake.

"sorry love, no one's safe when there's a colin round." georgia kissed your cheek in apology, happily accepting more of the cake from keira as your sister offered you her piece, grinning as you snapped off the ears with your teeth just like you'd both been brought up to.

"well this is definitely a highlight of the season. four of englands finest just sat here eating a caterpillar like an apple." ben sighed jokingly as the four of you giggled to yourselves, you leaning back into georgia and clutching your stomach as keira took a large bite right from the middle without a care in the world.

"lee five second rule!" you pointed, voice muffled by the large mouthful of cake shoved in it as your sister scrambled to pick up the piece which fell on the floor, blowing on it and popping it into her mouth with a grin.

"now i know this is audio but for the listeners at home they are literally just picking this cake up and shoving it in their mouth!" jill recounted, shaking her head at the sight. "they're eating it like its a hotdog or something!" ben added on as georgia fed you one of the legs with a giggle.

"that foot was incredible." you mumbled out with a happy sigh, still chewing on it as keira smacked your leg in agreement, opening her mouth to show you she also had one in her mouth as your head fell onto georgias shoulder, again clutching your stomach in laughter.

"imagine if sarina see's this that would be so good. we're over here talking about elite performance-" "-elite performance and now we're just picking up a caterpillar without a care-" "-yeah thats it girls, just shove it in your mush!"

"i eat a kitkat before every game anyway." you shrugged, bending down and snapping off another foot from the half in keiras hands. "do you really?" ben asked in surprise.

"she does! she's done it since she was little, used to throw tantrums like you wouldn't believe when our mum tried to stop her." leah smirked at the memory. "i really did. i'd just find out where she hid them and steal one, i'm too fast to catch anyway once she realised." you grinned once you'd swallowed your mouthful of cake.

"i always leave one in her boots for her to find when she's getting ready now at bayern. you should have seen how much crap she copped her first game, no one could believe she was eating a kitkat before her debut." georgia laughed as you fondly patted her knee.

"i run faster when i've had chocolate!" you shrugged, shovelling another mouthful of cake in as everyone laughed. "i mean the proofs in the pudding there wasn't a euros match i didn't see you not have one and you scored about ten goals!" jill laughed.

"could probablys run a 10K marathon right now, light work!" you teased with cake mushed in your mouth and a cheeky grin, georgia kissing your cheek with a smile as you used your thumb to wipe away some loose chocolate from the corner of her mouth before licking it off your finger with a wink.

"right i'm off!" leah announced a short moment later, standing to her feet and brushing the crumbs off her knee's. "am i taking it?" she gestured to the few small pieces left, packing it up at her friends nods.

"well. he were bloody lovely weren't he!"

#georgia stanway x reader #woso x reader #woso #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso imagine #woso fanfics #georgia stanway #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh

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aerynwrites · 6 months

Text

Worthy

Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

A/N: based on this request! I hope you enjoy this nonny (and everyone else!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Self-Esteem Issues, insecurity, reader feels unworthy of Gale, comparisons to Mystra, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff at the end, Gale is a sweetheart.

*Not beta read, apologies for any grammatical or blatant errors*

The stars offer you no solace tonight.

Instead their gentle twinkling light seems only to mock you, taking you back to the memory Gale shared with you from his meeting with her.

Mystra.

The goddess who has held so much of Gale’s past in her hands and apparently still seems to have him in her grasp.

Your self worth has always been something you’ve struggled with, especially in relationships. So, when Gale showed interest in you all those weeks ago you had a hard time accepting it, especially when you found out about his past with the goddess.

But you’d started to love past that. As each day with Gale he proved his love for you more and more, with each little action or sweet word. He told you of the betrayal he faced at Mystras hand, how he had been cast aside and now with the orb in his chest…

You shake your head.

All of that has shattered now. That tiny voice in your head coming back full force after your visit to Mystra’s shrine. After Gale had seemed so excited about the prospect of earning his goddess’ forgiveness by giving her the crown.

You have to fight the tears that burn at the back of your eyes.

Even now, Gale is off at Sorcerers' Sundries trying to learn more about the crown, asking Rolan if there are any more tomes he may have on hand.

That little voice is loud tonight. Louder than it’s ever been as you gaze at the stars from the balcony of your shared room at the Elfsong. Telling you that you were right all along. You’re not worthy of a man like Gale.

How can you be? How can you ever compare to a goddess?

The tears finally slip down your cheeks then, unable to contain the emotions that have been building in your chest.

And as if the goddess herself wants to torment you, it’s at that same moment that the door to your room creaks open, Gales' excited voice drifting through the air.

“You’ll never believe what I was able to find at Sorcerous Sundries,” he says happily, and you hear him set something down somewhere behind you as you try to wipe fruitlessly at your tears.

You can hear Gale approach where you're standing, and you turn your face away just as he comes up to your side.

“Rolan truly is a visionary, he was the one able to point me in the direction of-“

A particularly harsh sniffle from you makes Gale stop in his tracks, brows furrowing in concern.

“What’s wrong, my love? Are you alright?” He asks, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip.

Just another reminder of where you feel you fall short of Mystra.

You step out of his embrace, missing the way his face further crumples, confused at your withdrawn state.

Gale is not blind, nor is he deaf or inattentive. He knows of your struggles when it comes to relationships and your own self image, you’ve told him as much. But things were good - you’ve both made great strides when it comes to your relationship.

So why are you pulling away?

You shake your head, still wiping at the tears that won’t stop. “I’m fine, Gale.”

He takes a step closer to you, frowning deeper when you take a step back. “Clearly not,” he says gently. “Please, you know you can confide in me, as I have you. Talk to me, my love.”

Finally, you turn to look at him fully, face hot and eyes wet with tears.

“Will you go back to her?” You finally ask, voice cracking through the lump in your throat.

Gale looks puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

You take a deep breath, chest heaving. “To Mystra, Gale. Are you-“ your words break as you fight back a sob. “She asked for the crown in return for removing the orb, correct?”

“Yes, but I have yet to see why that is causing you such upset-“

“Because she’s a goddess!” You cry, tears coming down harder than before. “She’s offering you forgiveness, for you to be back in her good graces and I-“ a sob interrupts your words. “Why would you ever stay with me when you can go back to her? Why do you love me?”

Gale’s lips part in surprise, eyes widening as it finally settles in why you’re upset. And if you could see through your tears, you would see the heartbreak that displays itself on his face.

“She’s beautiful,” you continue, “and I-I’m this!” You gesture at yourself, heart threatening to snap in two.

How did you ever think he would stay?

You’re just about to turn and leave the balcony, leave the room in an effort to leave before he can prove you right. But before you can escape two warm hands cup your face, thumbs wiping at the tears that still cling to your cheeks.

“Put those vile thoughts from your mind. You are a sight to behold, more beautiful than any god or goddess,” Gale whispers, brown eyes searching your own as he pulls you close. “Mystra may still be my goddess but that is all,” he says firmly.

“I did agree to bring her the crown. But only so she could take this orb from my chest. Forgiveness be damned. I would not care if she took the crown and never looked upon me again,” he admits, thumbs moving down to trace gently over your lips.

“I could not bear the thought of living the rest of my life with you with that threat looming over us. I agreed for you. For us.”

His words are so full of conviction as he whispers them into the air between you, his lips almost brushing yours from how close he stands. You want to believe him, and in truth you do. You do believe him, because he’s shown you time and time again that he chooses you over anything. He even chose you over the crown, the chance at godhood.

Yet that voice is still there, even if it’s quieter than before.

“But…why?” you ask again, voice matching his in a whisper. “Why do you choose me when you’re worthy of so much…more.”

Gale presses his forehead to your own, your noses bumping together as his lips brush your cheek.

“If anyone is unworthy in this situation, it is me,” he tells you softly. “A man fallen from the grace of the gods. I have failed myself and you in more ways than one and yet you still remain by my side. Please…” His lips brush yours once more. “Let me do the same for you. Don’t push me away.”

Before you can respond, Gale presses his lips to yours, arms moving to slide around your waist as he pulls you close.

This time you don’t stop him.

This time you stay. You let him kiss you and let him embrace you as he pours his love into you.

Only when he pulls away do you finally find words.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Gale's lips tilt up in a small smile as he shakes his head. “Do not apologize to me, my love. Just know that I love you to the ends of the universe, and hold that love in your heart whenever those thoughts of doubt try to creep back in.”

You nod, moving to wrap your arms around him as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “I love you too.”

Gale hums low in his chest as he holds you tighter, swaying gently in the cool night air of the balcony.

And when you pull away just enough to look up at the stars…you swear they shine just a bit brighter than before.

#Gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 gale x reaer #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios #bg3

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wri0thesley · 2 years

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guilty jacking off. they know they shouldn’t want you, but you’re just so easy to imagine when they’re feeling particularly lonely in their beds. if it’s just a little fantasising, what’s the harm - right?

cw: guilty jacking off, not sfw, afab reader implied (no pronouns). mentions of power dynamics (kaeya, diluc, thoma). breeding mention (gorou). double dick zhongli, as it should be.

ft (and thank you to the anons who sent their little requests in for who it should be about): kaeya, gorou, ayato, thoma, diluc, zhongli, kazuha

kaeya is certainly not used to feeling guilt about this. though he does harbour various guilts within himself, generally he considers flirting and sex a pleasant distraction - that is, until you walked into his life. lovely, sweet, and untouchable lest he wish to have any of his under-recruits in the knights of favonius think him a pervert taking advantage of his station, kaeya cannot help but watch you when he thinks you’re not looking. cannot help but correct your form when holding a sword, give a little more praise to you than most people hear from him. and it does not help that you look at him with that wide-eyed hero worship so many new knights do hold for their captains; that you smile and gasp and fervently thank him when he takes time for you. it’s hard not to let that hero worship go to his head - to imagine that you’re knelt before him, instead, treating his cock with that same desperate revenance all to hear a kind word from your superior. it’s hard not to think of your mouth stuffed full, the bulge in your throat, the feel of his hand about the back of your neck as he hungrily pumps into you and relished the feel of your pretty lips wrapped around him. and when he does have such thoughts, there is really no other option than to wrap his hand around his cock and fuck his fist to them.

gorou spends a lot of time at sangonomiya shrine, searching out the divine priestess for battle meetings or new instructions or other such business, when her busy schedule does not allow her to come down to find him - and it’s this which has forced him to pay attention to the shy, gentle shrine maiden who has seemingly been assigned to look after him whilst he is there. oh, he’s incredibly guilty about it - not only a civilian, but a shrine maiden, who is supposed to be sweet and pure and who he knows could never truly reciprocate his advances-- but that doesn’t stop the fact that the merest spike of your scent on the air makes him want to whine and paw at the ground and hope that how hard he is isn’t visible. you’re so sweet to him. one of the first times he had come, you had offered him some sweet treat you’d baked, and gorou had fallen fast and hard - and that you’re always happy to see him, shy but polite, lovely and - to his dog brain - so obviously fertile it hurts him does not do a thing to assuage his guilt. and when you occupy his thoughts so completely it’s no surprise he spends his night, in tents, hoping nobody hears him . . . he imagines you on your hands and knees before him as he ruts into you and bites and scratches at your shoulders, as you beg him to fill you up with his seed.

ayato is terribly glad his sister has made a friend. though she does her duties without complaint and the world at large seem to adore her, he knows her well enough to see her loneliness - and so, your sunshine-bright presence is welcome. he adores the way you bring her out of her shell so carefully, the smile on her face after she’s spent a few hours with you . . . so it’s an awful pity that he can’t look at you over dinner without imagining dismissing the servants and railing you over the fine polished table until you’re crying out his name with your fingers curled helplessly into his shoulders. you’re simply so . . . loyal. so adoring. you have big puppy dog eyes and an eager, friendly nature that makes ayato want to teach you absolute obedience and have you following every order that he gives you as if it’s a life or death situation. he wants you to breathlessly thrust your hips back into his as you pant out, in between his own smooth, measured ones, the question of if you’re doing a good job. he wants to hear you ask how you can fuck him better, how you can make him come harder . . . and it’s the thought of teaching you to be a perfect desperate-to-please doll for him that makes him groan into his fist as he ruts his hips into fine silken sheets.

thoma understands nobility, after spending so long working for the kamisato clan. he understands arranged marriages and what matches are appropriate and which are not - and it’s this which makes him know that no matter how his eyes linger on you, you’re too far above his station for anything to ever come to fruition. when he is schmoozing in his capacity as housekeeper to esteemed guests of the yashiro commission, he does his best to not give you any special treatment - but it’s hard not to notice you treat him like more than simply the help. hard not for him to notice the pretty shape of your lips and the glint of your eyes, to laugh when he’s surprised as you whisper some joke in his ear. he thinks that it must simply be that you are a good, kind person . . . but for thoma, the thought of those lips and that laughter and that teasing smile are most likely to haunt him on nights when he is aware of how alone he is in his bed. it’s those nights he imagines how your teasing laughter would pitch and break whilst you straddled his lap, as he gently thrust his cock inside of you until you were boneless with pleasure with your arms about his neck. it is a good job that he is the one to do laundry so often, for nights after your visits mean his sheets need a thorough cleaning.

diluc considers himself a good employer. he’s certain that the maids and the barstaff and the winery workers would consider him the same; he’s polite if a little distant, he pays them well, he doesn’t get over-familiar but he does make a habit of knowing a little about them . . . but you, one of the new bartenders in the angel’s share, are certainly making this difficult for him. he interviewed you himself, and perhaps (it is shameful to admit it) he may have hired you simply because he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, but you have certainly done your part to make sure that he doesn’t regret it. you’re a very fine worker - which makes it all the worse that every time he sees you, his thoughts are not of praising you for a perfectly mixed death after noon or asking how the sales of his non-alcoholic mixes are going, but instead taking you up to the room he keeps in the angel’s share for nights he stays in town and simply fucking you on the shabby little bed until you’re mindless and drooling and panting with pleasure. nights when he does need to stay in that room and you are the barstaff working are the worst - for, with you so close, how can he not indulge in a little fantasy as he wraps his fist about his shaft and imagines your sweet voice caressing the title of ‘master diluc’?

zhongli has, for most of his existence, had his pick of lovers to take - but times have changed, and he is now an ordinary mortal, and more than that . . . he is employed, and it would be most unbecoming of him to sour his working relationship with the wangsheng funeral parlour by admitting to his desire for hu tao’s assistant. it is not merely that you talk her down from some of her wilder ideas, but that you are well-measured and intelligent and terribly polite to him, as well as very, very pleasant to look at. the sound of your voice shaping ‘mr zhongli’, the little bow of your head, the soft, shy smile you give him . . . ah, zhongli is not used to not being able to simply have what he wants. but work is sacrosanct. even an unwritten contract - one such as ‘interpersonal relationships at work are frowned upon’ - remains a contract, and so he has no choice but to spend his nights lazily stroking himself, imagining you in various states of undress, your wide-eyed surprise at undoing his trousers and finding two cocks of more-than-impressive size, the realisation in your eyes when you discovered the man who wishes you to service him is a former deity who he has heard you profess devotion and admiration for several times. he can only hope that one day, you will grow tired of hu tao, and that little unspoken contract can be broken so you are his for the taking.

kazuha is too polite for his own good. it doesn’t matter that he knows you like him; it doesn’t matter if he can sense the imperceptible warming of air when you catch sight of him and smile, that he notices the way that you seek him out and almost hears your heart beat faster when he is in the vicinity. you’re lovely (whilst you’re worthy of poetry that waxes lyrical about your beauty, his poetry about you is surely not worthy enough). and so, he cannot help but think you deserve more than being weighed down by him. he wants to be free just as much as you do, and even if he spends his nights sleeping on grass beneath the stars by your side (and trying not to wake you as he guiltily slips a hand between his thighs and attunes himself to your soft breathing, imagining how it would hitch if he were, for example, to slip between your own thighs and use his mouth on you until your hands tugged at his hair and you came sweetly and beautifully for him), he wants to be entirely sure that such freedom is always available for you. that, he thinks, is what really loving somebody means.

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #not sfw text #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #gorou x reader #thoma x reader #breeding mention for ts #afab reader implied

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vtoriacore · 1 year

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✧ oh, she wants you!

note: man im so damn whipped for the genshin women from inazuma so i couldn't help but write a lil' smth smth because there is an appaling lack of content for them and i won't stand for it any longer !!

tw: NSFW, [18+ fem!reader] - mentions of female anatomy, use of "mommy" in yae's, degradation, bondage, slight electric play

characters: yae miko, raiden shogun, kamisato ayaka, sangonomiya kokomi, naganohara yoimiya

synopsis: in which they can't help but want you all over them; just whose fault is it that you're so damn irresistible in every way, shape and form anyway?

✯; yae miko eating you out, not stopping after your third or fourth orgasm to show you who you belong to after seeing you spend too much time with another shrine maiden; she wants those pretty eyes on her at all times and she won't hesitate to show you that they should be by sending you straight to celestia with her tongue as she enjoys every mewl and moan that emits past your lips.

"hm? what was that? i can't make it out over the moaning, my pretty, dirty little slut. now be a good girl and take it as mommy wants you to, hm?" she'd feel proud of the way your fingers would cradle through her hair, pulling occasionally as you'd buck your hips into her face until you let that sweet aroma fill her very being. the way you beg and cry for more almost makes her climb on top to ride you, almost.

but rest assured, she won't stop until it's only her name you can utter by turning you into a babbling mess as her tongue penetrates your soaking pussy. by the seven, she just loved the way you tasted; how could she not lap your slick up untill you were an incoherent mess, until she couldn't help but engrave you into her senses so she never forgets how heavenly your sweet scent really is?

✯; ei blindfolding you and tying you up until you're left to hang from the ceiling by your wrists with the elaborate knots accentuating the curves of your divine body, not paying attention to your pleas as you whine for her tongue to run over every aching from the heat crevice of your supple skin. and although she wants to cave in so bad, she knows she has an eternity ahead of her to worship your body just as you always worship hers.

but even though she enjoys the sight alone, she lives for the way you shiver under her touch as she ghosts her slender fingers over your perked up nipples and the way you moan out her name in that sultry voice like the filthy little whore that you are for her every time; it gets her so wet she can barely stick to just simply watching you all wrapped up as originally planned.

the sensation of when she she sends a shock through your body using her vision leaves you breathless and wanting more, drool making its way down your chin and craving her skillful fingers deep inside you as she makes you sing her praise upon praise despite your mind not thinking of anything other than her body. but you don't mind doing so as long as you get to please your archon, and have her pleasure you in return for your endurance of her self-indulgent acts.

✯; ayaka eyeing your form, tracing every curve of your body as a blush overtakes her features over the filthy thoughts she is having. how would you taste if she connected both your lips? would you like the way her hands roamed your body as she begged you to take her? will you press her up against a wall and have your way with her after she gives you the dirtiest lap dance of your life?

god, she couldn't wait for you to expertly touch her as you always do, rough but always making sure her pleasure comes first. it made her unfold so fast, all the embarrassment leaving her body as you'd gaze at her as if she was the one to hang all the stars in the sky. and she certainly knew she'd be seeing the stars you believed she hung by the end of her teasing.

so when the plush skin of her ass pushes against your thighs as she continues swaying her hips in a circular motion, you just can't help but squeeze and prod. how could you when she was practically inviting you to? and finally, when you've had enough teasing and grab her by her hips to bring her down (hard enough to leave bruises), ayaka knows that she won't be walking straight for the next week.

✯; kokomi letting you sit on her lap, not knowing how difficult it wold be filling out the battle strategy diaries as you shift around on her thighs. it's not your fault your girlfriend looked so damn hot when she was chewing on her quill though, and kokomi wouldn't ever admit it but she loved the way you'd eye her lips everytime she did so.

you both knew it was a battle of who would snap first, and this time you were victorious as the prietess couldn't help but grow hot under your clothed cunt rubbing against her thigh and your perky breasts pressing up against her own chest creating this delightful friction she wanted more of. and despite you being a distraction, she couldn't help but want to ditch her duties and just have you use her as you please.

with how expertly your hand toyed with her underwear as you wore that annoyingly hot smirk which signified you winning this war for dominance, kokomi just had to submit and plead you to let those fingers thrust into her until she lost her mind instead. and who were you to deny her cute face, cheeks set ablaze and pretty pink lips forming a little kissable pout?

✯; yoimiya innocently bending down to set the fireworks alight on the hill of kangon island so they'd illuminate the warm, summer night sky all the while she grows flushed under your stare. you have been not so discreetly looking at her for the past 20 minutes with such intensity she thought she was going to burn up. but at the same time, she wanted nothing more but for you to continue.

"y-you know . . . if you want me, you can have me. i . . . i want you just as bad." she'd eventually mutter out in a moment of confidence, leaning closer into you to search your eyes as you gaze at her lips. and when you eventually close the gap, she can't help but lean into you, letting your hands explore her already flaming body.

yoimiya lives for the way your fingers trace the curves of her hips, the way you eventually slip your fingers under the apricot-orange happi she is wearing, the way you untie the sash holding it together to expose more of her body. and she most especially lives for the way you tell her you're the luckiest woman alive to have graced teyvat as you paint the skin of her neck a deep mauve colour with your lips.

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nightprompts · 1 year

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&. 𝐡𝐨𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( lyric dialogue prompts taken from various hozier songs. free to change how you seem fit. )

❛ i’ve walked the earth and there are so few here that know how dark the night and just how cold the wind can blow. ❜

❛ i’ve no more kept my warmth than blood upon the snow. ❜

❛ it’s not my arms that will fail me, but this world takes more strength than it gave me. ❜

❛ the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. ❜

❛ i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

❛ i’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife. ❜

❛ good god, let me give you my life. ❜

❛ so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. ❜

❛ every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside. ❜

❛ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

❛ would things be easier if there was a right way? ❜

❛ honey, there is no right way. ❜

❛ i fall in love just a little, a little bit every day with someone new. ❜

❛ when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel like a person for a moment of my life. ❜

❛ you don’t know what hell you put me through. ❜

❛ there’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me. ❜

❛ i have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me. ❜

❛ i’d be home with you. ❜

❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

❛ no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her. ❜

❛ what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth? ❜

❛ i will not ask where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

❛ just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do. ❜

❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜

❛ you don’t understand, you should never know, how easy you are to need. ❜

❛ don’t let me in with no intention to keep me. ❜

❛ don’t feed me — i will come back. ❜

❛ i’ve known the warmth of your doorways. through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ❜

❛ still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs. ❜

❛ i need you to run to me, run until you feel your lungs bleeding. ❜

❛ when i was a child, i heard voices... some would sing and some would scream. ❜

❛ i learned the voices died with me. ❜

❛ don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep ‘em on a leash. ❜

❛ you’ve done me wrong for a long time. but after all you’ve done, i never changed my mind. ❜

❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

❛ nothing fucks with my baby. ❜

❛ if i was born as a black thorn tree, i’d wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies. ❜

❛ ain’t it warming you, the world going up in flames? ❜

❛ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted, but i’m singing like a bird about it now.❜

❛ i’m almost me again, she’s almost you. ❜

❛ i’ve had no love like your love. from nobody. ❜

❛ make your good love known to me, or just tell me about your day. ❜

❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

❛ that’s the kinda love i’ve been dreaming of. ❜

❛ i fell in love with the fire long ago. ❜

❛ with each love i cut loose, i was never the same. ❜

❛ i had been lost to you, sunlight, and flew like a moth to you. ❜

❛ know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty, oh my sunlight. ❜

❛ i have never loved a darker blue than the darkness i have known in you. ❜

#hozier #sentence starters #lyric sentence starters #roleplay memes #ask memes #inbox memes #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #rp memes #lyrics

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greycloudsinwinter · 22 days

Note

Hiiii can you pls pls pls write a fic for Colin bridgerton?🤗💛💛

YANDERE COLIN BRIDGERTON x READER

🕊️ Colin most likely met you at a ball or through his sisters or maybe even his mother.

🕊️he was put off by marriage after what happened to him but after seeing you it’s all he can think of .

🕊️he love’s everything about you but he’s a worshipper yandere anything you give him or leave him ends up in the corner we’re his shrine for you is. He will right HUNDREDS of love letters for you but never sends them because he is to shy and he thought it would be more romantic after your marriage.

🕊️buys you flowers every time you have agreed to meet him or your coming to see his sisters.

🕊️tells Anthony he will die with out you and uses his brothers privilege of being viscount to make your parents agree to the marriage. Daphne may try and help save you from Colin but she can’t do much because Colin will twist the story to other people . Like you seduced him and now he had to marry you because you will never wed otherwise.

🕊️buys a cute little house for you with an indoor garden so there’s no reason for you to go out side .

🕊️all your needs will be met you just have to tell him what you want (Plus give him lots of attention).

🕊️your wedding will be huge even the queen got invited she might of come briefly who knows 🤷‍♀️.

🕊️he wants the perfect life of coming home to you and children running around him . Don’t worry though if you can’t have kids he will go find someone with a newborn that can’t look after it and happily take it in claiming it as his own child.

🕊️with his rivials he is prepared to get down and dirty either challenging them to duels or disposing of them when know one is around.

🕊️his mother is very very happy that Colin married. She knows that Colin always dreamed of finding the perfect spouse and settling down.

🕊️he knows marriage is a big change and that’s why your acting out (delusional!!!).

🕊️he isn’t the worst yandere but he definitely isn’t the best he gets jealous and possessive quick and he isn’t against killing people to get what he wants .

Thank you so much for this request ❤️❤️

#yandere bridgerton #bridgerton #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #obsessed #obsessive love #actually obsessive #colin bridgerton #colin x reader #yandere husband

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bitterbeanren · 5 months

Text

Just a Little Longer

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

Summary: Now that things have quieted down after the winter festival, you feel it’s time to celebrate with a hot pot party. Ayaka has insisted that you invite Ayato personally.

A/N: My gift for @laurequenta

I had a lot of fun writing this! Ayaka and Thoma are such shippers in their own subtle and sometimes less subtle ways.

Happy Holidays!

~*~

After the winter festival concluded, work around the Kamisato estate and your own family’s estate calmed down, and the weather became even colder, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to play another hot pot game. You had gone to the Komore Teahouse to ask Thoma what he thought (as well as play with Taroumaru), and he had happily agreed to participate. You’d just taken off your haori and scarf and hung them when Ayaka arrived as well. After hearing your idea, Ayaka grew excited about having a hot pot party too. Then, she insisted that you need to be the one to let the Head of the Kamisato Clan know about the plan and invite him as well.

You don’t mind. Your families had worked together for generations, your mothers had been close, and you considered him a dear friend. You’d known each other since childhood after all. You had fond memories of walks in the gardens, studying and comparing notes after lessons, of playing together with Ayaka, and of him showing you what he’d learned about sword fighting. You remember going to the Narukami Shrine together for New Years, warming your hands with cups of amazake and checking fortunes. When you think back on those times, you realize that you actually spent a fair amount of time together. A good chunk of your youth was spent at the Kamisato Estate and with the eldest Kamisato sibling. At least that was the case until Ayato took over the position of clan head. He became significantly busier after that.

As the years passed you maintained a good friendship with Ayaka and Thoma, however, you still felt fondest of the eldest Kamisato despite your differing paths.

Even now that you are adults, because you know of his fondness for odd snacks, whenever you see something you think he would enjoy you would get it for him. When you were able to give him the unique treats in person, his gaze would soften and the small smile that appeared on his face felt more… genuine. But when you weren’t able to give them to him yourself, he would send a letter describing the goods almost like a review column belonging in something from the Yae Publishing House. It never fails to make you smile. And when the two of you do get to spend time together, it’s like nothing has changed… provided that the two of you aren’t in public or are alone. When you do see him at events, there’s an air of formality around him that makes him feel more distant.

You much prefer being around him when he doesn’t need to put up a front.

“Master Ayato said he would be taking a walk around Hanamizaka, ___,” Thoma informs with a smile. “He didn’t leave too long ago.”

“Oh, you should go over now and invite him! I don’t believe he has any plans for tonight, so we could meet back here with ingredients in a few hours to have the hot pot party,” Ayaka claps her hands together with a warm expression on her face. “And if he is busy, then we could have one with just the three of us. Would that work for you?”

You look up thoughtfully before giving the younger Kamisato a nod. “I’ll need to send word to my family, but I don’t have any other commitments today.”

“Would you like me to send the message to your estate while you check in with my lord?” Thoma tilts his head to the side cutely.

“That would be much appreciated, Thoma,” you smile politely and wave goodbye before making your way towards Hanamizaka. “I’ll see you two soon. Jya ne!”

As you make your way through the city, you can see your breath come out in puffs. It’s cold— and you can feel the chill through your kimono even though you’re wearing one of your thicker ones. Ayato certainly was bold— most Inazumans avoided being out in this temperature. But perhaps that was why he felt comfortable to walk about— he’d never been fond of crowds, especially after he’d become clan head. It was important to keep up public appearances when part of a noble household, and since Ayaka was well-loved by the people, Ayato could get away with being in the shadows so long as his few appearances were viewed positively.

The street vendors are still manning their stalls even though business is slow, but they were more prepared for the weather than you. They wear scarves and hats as well proper outer layers. Drat— you should have grabbed your scarf at least before leaving the teahouse. You mentally kick yourself and bring your fingertips up to your mouth, attempting to use your breath to warm them. When you next glance up, you see Ayato making his way towards you, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“Ayato!” You beam at him when he stops in front of you, one hand on his hip as he furrows his brows.

“Aren’t you cold, ___?” The man asks, you nod your head sheepishly.

“Ayaka and Thoma told me you were around here, and I forgot to put my layers back on before I went looking for you.”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like it’s my fault you’re cold,” Ayato chuckles, taking off his scarf and looping it around your neck. “Honestly… what could be so important that you’d forget? Surely seeing me isn’t worth catching a cold over.”

“We’re going to have a hot pot party tonight,” you explain, subconsciously nuzzling into the warm fabric and laughing with a hint of embarrassment, “since things have quieted down, I thought it’d be nice for all of us to get together again.”

“Ayaka must have insisted you invite me personally. Am I correct?”

“She did. But I would have invited you regardless.”

Ayato’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned in a bit closer. “Truly?”

You roll your eyes. “Have you so little trust in me, Ayato? We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

The Yashiro Commissioner gave you a noncommittal shrug. “It seems like these days I only see you when you’re with Ayaka and Thoma. I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit… neglected.”

“A hot pot party with just the two of us wouldn’t have nearly as much variety,” you shrug in response. “So, would you like to join us? We could get ingredients together.”

Ayato takes a moment to consider his response before letting out a sigh and securing his scarf around your neck. “Let’s find something interesting at least. Where did you find those sea urchin chocolates last time, ___?”

He already knows, of course. He’s the Yashiro Commissioner after all. But still, Ayato asks.

“If I tell you my source, then how will I be able to surprise you anymore?” You joke lightly.

“I’d never refuse a gift from you, even if it was uninteresting.”

“That doesn’t mean you’d like a boring gift.”

“I’d like any gift from you. We’re… childhood friends, after all.”

You place your hands on your hips. “Even so, the fun of finding weird things to put in hotpot comes from using perfectly normal things that don’t belong in hotpot. Ayaka still wins for using cake that one time… I need to think of something incredibly normal but just as upsetting for us to discover.”

The two of you begin to walk towards various stalls together, chatting as you go. “Perhaps… sunsettia?” Ayato offers as an idea.

“In Liyue there is a soup dish that uses sunsettia as the main ingredient,” You reply with a shake of your head. “So… adding sunsettias feels as though I’d be playing off that dish. Oranges, though… that might be fun…”

“Depending on what other ingredients are added, I imagine that the inclusion of orange slices would be quite novel.”

“But see, now that you know I’m considering it, that makes it less fun.”

You don’t notice how Ayato’s expression softens as the two of you continue, still shooting ideas back and forth. Being together feels so natural that you don’t even realize when you’ve taken his arm, purchasing a variety of normal and unique ingredients to bring to the hot pot party. Or maybe you choose not to notice, happy to bask in your closeness. Normally you aren’t this close while in public, but the lack of people on the streets make both of you more comfortable.

You’re childhood friends, after all. Of course it’s natural for the two of you to be close, despite everything. It’s something that both of you remember and remind yourselves whenever you end up standing closer than most would comfortably be. Whenever you find yourselves staring or thinking of the other for a moment too long.

There is no shortage of people vying for Kamisato Ayato’s attention these days. But you were there before. Back when the clan was struggling and the future was uncertain— be it because of foolish, childish innocence or loyalty, you had been and continue to be there for him even if only in the most miniscule of ways.

It begins to snow and Ayato adjusts his scarf on you. It’s cold, you really should have brought your own scarf and haori. But you want to enjoy being like this a little longer— together, chatting and carrying ingredients as you walk down the quiet streets back to the Komore Teahouse. Normally, you wouldn’t get to do this. Ayato had an image to uphold, after all. People would talk, seeing you two acting so familiar… but would either of you really mind, if they did?

He laughs at something sassy that you mutter under your breath, a fond look in his eyes, and you think you’ll be able to handle the cold for a bit longer.

Just a little longer.

#gixrsecretsanta2023 #ayato x reader #genshin impact #kamisato ayato

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candycandy00 · 9 months

Text

The Offering - A Sukuna x Reader Fic Part 4

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a human man, albeit a monstrously cruel and powerful one. Villages across the land worshipped him as a living deity. One such village holds a festival for seven nights in his honor every year, and on each night they make generous offerings to him, including women who are never seen again. On the fifth night, you are selected to be the offering.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

If you’d like to be tagged when I post the final part, comment to let me know. You must have your age in your bio or pinned post and be 18+ to be tagged.

Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated! Thanks so much for the feedback on part three! It warms my pervy little heart! ❤️

Smut. 18+. Sukuna is a human (my theory is that he got his four-armed body by modifying himself with jujutsu fuckery later in life). Dubcon. Mentions of rape that happened “off screen”. Very rough sex. Blood. Sukuna just generally being a sadistic monster. F!Reader. This is dark and quite intense!

It was late the next morning when Sukuna was sitting in the bath, cherry blossoms floating all around him. He’d long enjoyed the fragrance of this particular flower, especially because they were so short-lived. This village had been wise to hold his festival in the spring, so that they could incorporate the blossoms into his offerings.

As he watched the pale pink blossoms float by, his mind drifted to the offering who was probably still asleep in his bed, or perhaps having breakfast. Now that he’d thought of her, he wanted her to come and bathe with him. She would probably be embarrassed, even though he’d seen every inch of her numerous times by now. Imagining her blushing face was getting him excited, so he summoned a shrine maiden and told her to bring the offering.

Only a few minutes passed before the girl was led into the bathing room, wearing only the sheer white robe. The moisture in the air was making the thin fabric cling to her body in all the best places. Sukuna subconsciously licked his lips as the girl bowed low to the ground and the shrine maiden left.

“You can look up,” he said, and he waited for her to raise her head and look at him before he stood up in the bath. The water came up to his thighs, leaving most of his body exposed. He watched her expression as her eyes raked over his form, water drizzling down over his muscular chest and abdomen, his cock soft but still large and impressive. He knew he was an attractive man. Many people, regardless of gender, had looked at him with appreciative eyes. But once they knew who he was, his reputation for cruelty and extreme violence made their sense of fear override any attraction they might have felt.

Well, this strange offering was the exception.

Even knowing he was a sadistic monster, she was completely overtaken by her lust for him. He found that endlessly amusing, and so he stood there wet and naked before her, giving her hungry little eyes a feast.

“Stand,” he told her, “and remove your robe.”

Instead of getting up immediately, she instead lowered her flushed face back to the floor. “Lord Sukuna,” she began with a small and frightened voice, “may I please… request something of you?”

He stepped out of the bath and walked over to stand above her. This close, he could see that her body was trembling. Though he was normally annoyed by requests, he was too curious not to allow it. He asked, “What is your request?”

She kept her head to the floor and spoke in a frail and halting voice. “If… if you see fit to do so… could you please… show me mercy and b-be gentle with me today? My body still aches from last night, my Lord.”

Ah, so that was it. In all honesty, hearing her beg him to be gentle with her while quivering before him made him want to take her right there on the floor, harder than he ever had before. He wondered what sort of expression she would wear as he mercilessly pounded into her. Ahhh, he could hear her lovely screams in his mind, her pleading voice begging him to stop as he left fresh bruises all over her soft body.

Then his mind was invaded by the image of her smiling, and the image of her hugging the pink robe. He sighed. “I’ll show you mercy, if you can satisfy me in other ways.

Now stand up and remove your robe.”

He watched her hurry to her feet, clearly eager to please him. As she shyly pulled off the robe and let it drop to her feet, he wondered how he would kill her at the end of the night. She had certainly pleased him enough to earn a quick death, but he didn’t want it to be over so soon. He wanted to take his time, draw out every agonized scream, slowly slice away parts of her until there was nothing left.

Ah, but he didn’t have time for that. He would be leaving the village by morning. It was a shame that she wasn’t the offering on the first night. Then he would have had the whole week to enjoy her. The first four nights had been an utter waste. Only the first offering had made it to his bed, and only then because he hadn’t enjoyed a woman in weeks and wasn’t feeling particular. She’d been totally boring, a hole to fuck and nothing more. He didn’t even remember her face or what she’d sounded like. The other three had been eviscerated in front of the dais, their hysterical blubbering too annoying for him to bear.

He looked at the bandaged girl in front of him and wondered if he’d ever be able to purge from his memory the image of her smiling face, the sounds of her sweet moans and cries, the feeling of her arms clutching him with all their meager might. He walked over to a stone seat near the water and sat down, deciding to give the matter more thought in the evening.

********

When Lord Sukuna had stood up in the water, you’d literally stopped breathing for a few moments. Standing there naked, glistening with water, black ink trailing lines down his body, he looked every bit the god your village worshipped him as. When he came to stand over you, the closeness of that perfect body to yours made you feel dizzy. His beauty only made you more self conscious, but you took off your robe as he commanded.

Now he was seated near the water, and he beckoned you to follow. You approached him slowly, dreading whatever he might do to you but also feeling an incredible thrill. You were already wet just from the sight of him.

When you were close enough, he reached up a hand and ran it over your bandages. You felt a shiver when his damp palm slid over your bare nipples.

“Let’s take these off,” he said, and began peeling the thin strips of cloth from your body. He unwrapped you as if he were opening a gift, using careful, intimate movements that left your face burning. When the bandages were completely removed, you somehow felt more naked, even though they covered very little to begin with.

He pulled you closer to him, so that you were wedged in between his spread legs. You could feel that he was getting hard. As if in response, you felt your own arousal dripping down your legs. You clamped them together, embarrassed that you had no control over yourself when you were this close to him. But he looked at you with a smug smile, seemingly able to read your thoughts. One of his hands squeezed in between your thighs and moved up, just grazing your pussy before withdrawing.

He held up his hand, shiny with your fluids, and looked you in the eyes as he licked it clean. Your knees nearly gave way. That look in his eyes said he knew he was driving you mad with lust, that he enjoyed making you so wet you could hardly bear it. He grinned as he leaned closer and said, “If you want me to show mercy to your dripping pussy, then satisfy me with your mouth.”

As he pulled back slightly, he licked two of his fingers, thoroughly coating them in his saliva, then plunged them into your mouth. He watched you suck them ravenously as he spoke again. “Ah, but I haven’t given you permission to have my cock in your hot little mouth. What are you going to do?” The question was asked in a mocking tone, but you knew the answer.

His fingers slipped from your mouth and his strong hands pushed you down to your knees in front of him. His fully hard erection stood tall, inches from your face. You wanted it in your mouth immediately, to taste him, to please him. But he hadn’t given permission yet, so you looked up at him with teary eyes and said, “Please, Lord Sukuna… please honor me by letting me taste your cock.”

You saw his eyes widen just slightly, and his engorged member seemed to twitch. Then a wide smirk appeared on his handsome face. “Very well. You can taste it, but you’re not allowed to take it into your mouth yet.”

With a small bow of appreciation, you extended your tongue and began licking up and down his length, slowly, with worshipful motions. You paid special attention to the tip, where a few delicious drops were leaking out. Ahh, you wanted it in your mouth so badly!

“Please, I beg of you, my Lord,” you said between licks, a thin string of his sticky precum connecting his tip to your tongue, “Let me take you into my unworthy mouth.”

He looked down at you with no expression. “Denied,” he said.

His cock was throbbing under your tongue, but he clearly wasn’t going to go easy on you. It wasn’t like you were trying to be seductive, you were simply voicing your genuine desires. You nestled your tongue into his tip again and continued your pleading.

“Lord Sukuna… please… I need you in my mouth… please! Fill my mouth with your cock… let me drink your cum…”

You said it all while licking every inch of him with religious devotion.

Finally, he grinned down at you and said, “You can take me in your mouth now.”

Your lips immediately enclosed around his length, the unbelievably huge cock completely stuffing your waiting mouth, your tongue circling it.

Even though you were enraptured with the taste of him, you heard his silky voice above you.

“Oh, but now that I’m in your mouth, don’t take my cock out. No matter what. I’ll remove it when I’m ready.”

You looked up at him and nodded your head as best you could while having your mouth so full. You couldn’t imagine wanting to take it out now that you had such a gift in your mouth, but your mind was getting a little fuzzy, momentarily forgetting the kinds of cruel games Sukuna liked to play with you.

Your legs were slippery, drenched in your own juices. You were so aroused, you couldn’t stop your hand from moving down to slip inside your folds.

“Don’t touch your clit,” you heard Sukuna say in a commanding voice, and you felt like sobbing as you pulled your hand away. He wouldn’t touch it or allow you to touch it last night, and so it remained swollen and sensitive and begging for attention.

You heard him laugh at your distress. “Such a needy little cunt,” he said.

He was pulsing in your mouth, you could almost feel his heartbeat. You kept up your ministrations, using your entire mouth to pleasure him. The thick organ twitched once more, and then all at once his hand gripped your hair and pulled you forward until he was choking you. He came, shooting hot cum directly down your throat. But at the same moment, he released your hair and his hand moved to your nose, where he pinched it shut, cutting off your air.

You almost jerked back in your panic, but you remembered him telling you not to take his cock out of your mouth, so you held on, feeling the warm and sticky cum sliding down your throat as you struggled to swallow it without breathing. Tears were falling from your eyes as you looked up at him, silently pleading for him to let you take a breath. He watched you for a moment before finally releasing your nose.

For several moments you sucked in air through your nose and sputtered and coughed around his cock, not letting it fall out of your mouth. He seemed to be enjoying your struggle, looking down at you with an amused expression. It took you a little while to realize he still hadn’t pulled out, even though he had already cum.

“Did you really think I would be satisfied with cumming in your mouth only once?” he asked. Then he reached down and stroked your hair as he said, “Keep me in your mouth until you make me cum again.”

You wasted no time swirling your tongue around his now soft cock. The first step was getting him hard again, so you focused on that, making gentle sucking motions and moving your head back and forth. You tried to ignore the red eyes staring down at you, watching you work, as well as the soreness blossoming in your jaw from keeping something so big in your mouth without letting your teeth hit it.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to be fully erect again, and the feeling of him swelling against your tongue made you even wetter.

You had given up denying to yourself that you were falling for this monstrous man. He was cruel and brutal and enjoyed hurting you, but it didn’t change the way you felt in his presence. You wanted him, so much that your entire being ached for him. Even knowing he was going to kill you did nothing to dull your passion. And so you communicated those feelings through your mouth on his cock, wanting him to feel your desire, your love.

And after only a few minutes, you felt him throbbing again. His hand returned to your hair, and you prepared yourself to have his cock shoved down your throat again, but this time he suddenly pulled himself out of your mouth. As you looked up at him curiously, his hand still holding your head still, you felt strings of hot cum shoot onto your face. It covered you, getting into your hair, dripping down over one of your eyes, across your nose, running down over your lips and falling from your chin to drizzle over your breasts.

You stared up at him with one eye open, frozen, not daring to wipe any away without permission even as a glob of it ran over your left eyelid. As he looked down at your messy, cum-soaked face, Sukuna was smirking again, clearly very pleased with himself. He stroked the back of your hair and stood up from the stone seat. “Good girl,” he said, “now finish your meal.”

It took a moment for your addled mind to understand what he meant, but then it clicked for you. As he watched, you began wiping up globs of his cum with your hands and pushing it into your mouth, licking your fingers clean each time. You smiled up at him and said, “Thank you for this blessing, Lord Sukuna.”

The smirk seemed to vanish from his face, and he turned away from you. Was that….? No, it couldn’t have been…. You knew it had to have been your imagination, but for the briefest of moments, just before he turned away, you could’ve sworn there was a faint pink tint to his face.

You didn’t have time to think more deeply on it, because soon after he turned back to you and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the bath. You didn’t protest, only gasped in surprise as he stepped into the water and sat down, easing you into the steamy warmth. The water smelled so sweet, like him.

He gently pushed your entire head down into the water, just for a few seconds, then pulled you back up. Then he had a sponge in his hand, wiping at your face. When finished, he turned you to face away from him and then began running his hands through your hair, working some sort of lather into it.

Was he really washing your hair? It seemed ludicrous. He was a tyrant, an evil god, but right now he was carefully rinsing your hair. The soft movements made your whole body tingle. Was this his way of rewarding you? Or the start of another sick game?

Once your hair was washed, he sat back against the wall of the tub and pulled you into his lap, your back against his firm, wet chest. One of his hands moved over your body lightly, brushing over your nipples, your stomach, you hips, and then settling between your thighs.

The hand just sat there for a while, not moving and not parting your folds, as if it were just a comfortable place to leave it. Then, just as you were relaxing, one of his fingers slipped in. It pointedly did not touch your clit, only the area around it, which drove you mad. He circled it without even grazing it once, and you quivered in his lap.

“Please… Lord Sukuna…”

He had his mouth close to you ear. “Please what?”

“Please touch my…”

After you failed to finish the sentence, he whispered to you, “Touch your what?”

You squirmed as he kept rubbing everywhere except your aching nub. “My… c-clit,” you whined, both your hands gripping his strong arm.

“I won’t,” he said, “and you won’t either. Not now.”

The finger he’d been tormenting you with slid completely inside you, and was quickly joined by another. You moaned, your back arching against him as he pumped both fingers in and out of you.

Your senses were overwhelmed. The heat of the water, the strong scent of cherry blossoms, Sukuna’s perfect body pressed against yours, his sultry whispers, his fingers fucking your needy hole… it was too much for your fragile emotions to handle.

“Lord Sukuna… I love you…”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you quickly lowered your face to hide your blush. His fingers never stopped, and in fact he added a third as his other hand tilted your chin up to make you look at him.

He looked amused, as usual, and said in his beautiful voice, “Such a pitiful little offering.” Before you could even wonder what he meant by those words, his mouth encased yours, his tongue pressing between your lips and swirling with your own. Your hips in his lap reflexively moved with the rhythm of his plunging fingers as you moaned into his mouth.

Every inch of you felt amazing. You wanted to stay like this forever. If only the festival would never end, if only you could have been chosen the first night and had a few more nights with Sukuna, if only he felt even one tiny, fleeting speck of care for you.

One of his fingers pressed a spot inside you that made you nearly scream in pleasure, and you came on his hand, your body shuddering in his arms while his lips drank in your moans.

The two of you remained in the water for a while longer, neither of you speaking, your panting the only sound in the room. Then Sukuna stepped out of the water, and you followed soon after.

You stared at his form longingly as he dried himself off. He caught your gaze and laughed. “We just bathed. Don’t tempt me to make a mess of you again.”

You blushed and turned away from him to finish drying off yourself. You were still embarrassed about your slip up earlier, when you accidentally admitted that you loved him. You knew such feelings from an ordinary village girl were laughable to him, so you hoped he would simply forget it.

The two of you pulled on fresh robes and left the bathing room. As you walked down the hall a few steps behind Sukuna, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Let’s have something to eat. You don’t want to be hungry when night falls.” Then he continued on.

You stopped dead in your tracks. It occurred to you that he would definitely take you in his bed one more time before the festival ended, and he would probably hurt you again. You thought you could withstand physical pain, you’d even made peace with the fact that he would kill you. But there was still something he could do to you that you didn’t think you could handle, something he would most likely do just for the sake of being cruel. He could let you know just how little he thought of you, how ridiculous your sad little love was, how meaningless these past few days had been to him.

A strange little throb appeared in your chest, and you pressed your hand there to feel your own heart beating. You shook your head to try to dispel your dark thoughts, and hurried after Sukuna, deciding to do your best to enjoy your final hours.

Tag List:

@yourmumsthings @boogeysmoth @gojoscumslut @slut4animedilfs @urcrybby24 @kaqua @chiisana-akuma @httpslu0 @thoreau-ly @poopoobuttsy

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #x reader

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shinobusupremecy · 5 months

Note

Hi :3

Saw you're requests were open and that you added genshin to your thing, so I'm going against my better judgement rn.

(Oneshot) Yae Miko x gn autistic reader that takes everything at face value (like me), um angst because reader doesn't understand that miko is just teasing and they think she's actually annoyed 💀 anyways, obviously angst, but they talk it through with each other and she maybe realises her teasing isn't always a good idea.

Idk, I find the idea of miko being like "Oh shit, I fucked up" funny.

Yae Miko x gn!Reader

A/n: Now that you say it that reaction from Yae Miko would be hilarious! Thank you for requesting, you have the honour of being the first to request genshin and the first to request the one and only Yae Miko no less!

You can interpret this as platonic or romantic. It is a bit hard to tell in this fic I apologize😅

Word count: 1621

People in Inazuma city parted ways like the sea of moses from the way you ran, half putting on your shrine maiden clothes. You apologized when you nearly ran into people.

You had finally reached the foot of the mountain and you began running through the thousand red gates. The sun shined mercilessly down on you and you felt yourself beginning to sweat. You wanted to rest and just walk up but you were about to be late.

Running as you went you saw the floating rocks with the electrogana on it. If only you had an electro vision things would have been easier. Looking up the mountain again you saw you had a long way to go.

’Ahhh, all this hassle because I overslept!’ You internally cried.

After what felt like forever you finally reached the Narukami shrine. You went through the toji gate and bowed out of respect before going in.

The pink fox lady stood by the fox shaped sakura tree with her back turned. Her ear twitched and she let out a low hum.

”You know you really shouldn’t be late on your first day here. It is quite rude and makes for awful first impressions”

”I am sorry lady Yae Miko, you’re right. I shall do better!” You bowed to apologize. This was your first day working at the shrine as a shrine maiden. Yae Miko’s work quite frankly fascinated you so you wanted to work with her. Plus working with her meant some nice quality time for you two.

You saw two fingers snap right in front of you and you snapped out of your daydreaming.

“Honestly don’t go zoning out when I am about to give instructions. You really are out of it today”

“Yes yes, sorry about that”

”Ah well. The first thing to do is make sure the shrine is nice and tidy” Your eyes wandered around the shrine in search of something amiss before you heard an exasperated sigh.

”I meant look around the place. Go on, walk around” Yae sounded annoyed and with that you looked away a little ashamed before doing so.

You did find that some of the floorboards were dusty and since foxes roamed around there were a few things…littered.

”One must make sure the shrine is all nice and tidy before the people come. No one wants to pray with the smell of animal feces around do they or get their socks all dusty and slip” You nodded and then stood there…not knowing where the cleaning supplies are.

“Well? Get a move on” You jumped a little and turned to her.

“I don’t know where the cleaning supplies are”

Yae sighed again before smiling.

“If you used your two eyes your mother graced you with you would see it says ‘cleaning supplies’ over there” Yae pointed. Your cheeks grew a bit more red out of embarrassment.

‘This is so embarrassing? Does she treat every shrine maiden this way?’ You glanced at Yae who still looked at you. ’Is she annoyed with me?’

Taking the cleaning supplies you began to sweep the floorboards and clean up from the foxes.

”See? That wasn’t so hard? Only took you 10 minutes to understand everything and do what I say”

”That long!?” You yelled out in shock. No way it has already gone 10 minutes

”Yes that long. Is something wrong with you today? You’re usually not this slow” All these jabs you were getting started to really get on your nerves.

’Maybe she really is annoyed with me’ Your heart began sinking.

”It’s my first day working Yae, you know that” You countered earning a sigh from Yae.

”Mhmm I know but still, things like understanding a simple instruction like cleaning shouldn’t take that long” You nodded at her words.

“Hmf” Yae finished off and your heart began to sank a bit further.

‘What's up with her today? All of these remarks is starting to hurt' You thought before shaking your head. 'It will be better next time’

Next time came, again and again. No really big improvement on either part. You accidentally messed up a ritual and said the wrong words.

“...Walk forth and purify which is im-impure?” You said the wrong word and the stutter messed the whole ritual up leading to a annoyed sigh from Yae.

“We have gone over it a thousand times and you still don’t remember? The word is 'come' forth” You felt like she was jabbing at your heart or her words did.

Jab there, jab here.

“That’s not a way to sweep the floorboards, if anything you are just spreading the dust around” One jab.

“Why is your back so bent, posture straight or you’ll look like the shrimp I ate for lunch” Another jab.

You began fearing that you were more of a burden tothe shrine than helping. All these jabs from Yae Miko can’t be a mistake, she must be really annoyed. Not to mention she doesn’t do that with any other of the shrine maidens.

‘Fine! If she thinks I am a burden to the shrine then I won’t be coming’ Hurt, you came to that conclusion and stayed home.

Yae was waiting for you at the shrine. She tapped her foot on the floorboard impatiently before clicking her tongue.

’They must be late or something’ She concluded and went on her roundly checkup to see that everything on the shrine looks alright.

She had waited a while and you still haven't come, much to Yae’s annoyance. If you are sick just tell her. She looked down on the steep mountain however. Okay maybe not.

Eitherway you will probably come tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and you didn’t show up. Yae assumed you were sick and went on about her day.

When a week had gone by Yae didn’t really suspect anything. You could be sick, and from what she has learned humans can be sick for a week sometimes so that is what she assumed happened to you.

However when you didn’t come after that week she became really suspicious.

‘They had better not quit before telling me’ She thought bitterly. Enough was enough she decided and strode down the mountain to get to your house.

You were sitting on the couch of your home wondering if you should try to go to work again. You really wanted to, the job was cool, you loved Yae but what’s the point when she just seems annoyed by every single thing that you did?

Before you could think of finding her she found you first and knocked on your door. You got up and opened it to a menacing smiling Yae and a shiver ran up your spine.

“Well you look fine and dainty as ever. Care to tell me why you have been skipping work?” Yae asked and you inwardly sighed.

“I’m sorry it’s uh, complicated”

“It is nothing that I, Lady Yae Miko, can't understand. I have lived for several of hundred years and encountered many humans, I practically know you humans down to the bone. Now tell me, why have you been skipping work?”

“It’s just…I do like working at the shrine…but” You started slowly and Yae Miko stood there waiting.

“But?”

“I just feel like you are annoyed with me…you say these things” One of Yae Miko’s eyebrow rose and she let out a low questioning hum.

“I wanna work but every little thing I do is wrong. You say it all the time, either my posture isn’t right, I sweep the broom wrong, I’m slow for not knowing where the cleaning supplies are even though it is my first day”

“You…” Yae Miko began but you interrupted her

"I get that if I'm doing something wrong you should tell but the way you say it is really hurtful and minor things like not knowing where the cleaning supplies are on my first day is really...you know?" You nervously vented out in hopes of understanding.

Before Yae made you work she made it very clear to always tell her if something is wrong or if there is something you don't like. Communication is key and she lives strongly by that.

Yae lets out a heavy sigh.

“I see, so that’s what this has been about” You looked up to see Yae who to your surprised look troubled.

“I did say those things yes but I was merely teasing, I didn’t think you would take my words to heart”

“Just a ‘just kidding’ would be fine” You replied a bit sourly.

Yae scratched her head, her brows furrowing as she looked like she really was thinking hard. This was a new side to her you never thought you would see.

”I see now. I am…sorry I didn’t make it clear I was merely teasing. The things I said were far from the truth, I don’t think any of those things. You are hardworking and I see that you try” You stood there taking in Yae’s words. You felt relieved and your heart beated a bit faster.

”I will stop my teasing if it makes you that upset but please come back to the shrine. The mornings without you on the shrine is a lonely one for me” You looked at Yae and giggled. Seeing this side of her was interesting and fun, you couldn’t help but giggle a little.

”Sure, I’d like that” you replied and closed the door behind you.

”Perfect. Come now, I have a lot of new novels I have read the past few days while you were gone that I need to tell you about and when we reach the shrine you will get tea, you have been more than deserving for that”

#🦋eli writes genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #yae miko #yae miko x reader #yae miko x you #yae miko x y/n

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kormiato · 1 year

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omg can u do one with doing this prank on yae miko(and if it isnt too much, can u also do ei and shenhe??) where ur suspiscously smiling and giggling a bit too much while texting and also blushing??

Hi! Thank you for request! Sorry if it's OOC or have bad writing or not exactly what you liked to see (especially for Shenhe), feel free to correct if you see something like that. I hope you'll like it! <3

Warnings: sllliiiight angst in Ei's part. But mostly hurt/comfort.

Prank on Ei, Yae Miko and Shenhe

Yae Miko

You was sitting on a couch and scrolling through the feed on your phone while Yae was on some shrine duty. You was bored. And you suddenly came up with idea to have fun and prank Yae. She was a mischief woman herself, so why not to try and keep up with her?

So when you heard the opened front door you knew it was time. You opened a chat with your friend and started texting and giggling, pretending that you was so busy chatting that you didn't even greet Miko like usual, and that was strange, considering that you are always wait for her and rush to give her a hug and kiss on the cheek with a big smile when she comes home.

She was intrigued by what on earth might be able to catch your attention so much. And even more intrigued by your cute giggles from living room.

When she came in, she saw that you was sitting on the couch with your legs tucked under you with a tender smile, looking at your phone, and after couple of seconds giggling again and texting someone back with a slight blush on your cheeks. And that was... interesting, to be honest.

She wasn't jealous, noo, no. She was pretty confident in herself to be honest. But this behavior was offbeat and she was curious to find out why are you acting like that. And maybe tease you a little after that.

So she approached you with her usual graceful gait and playful grin. "Hello, my little flower. Who you're chatting with?" she sat down next to you and put her arm down on the back of the couch so she lightly hugged you by shoulders. You blushed harder because of how her voice, actions and confidence always charmed you, making you embarrassed mess that Yae liked to see and tease you for it even more.

"No one, just my friend." you reply glancing on her once before returning to your chat again and sitting that way that she wasn't able to see your chat. "But what got you so red? Maybe you got some admirer while I was gone? Someone that as good in making you mumbling cute little blushing mess as me?" she whispered in your ear grinning more as she saw how you almost dropped your phone. And now you didn't even know if pranking THE Yae Miko was great idea. She always knew how to play every conversation in her own teasing way. It was losing game everytime.

"Okay, okay, it was prank." you showed her your phone where your friend was teasing you about Yae and sending some funny pictures. "My, my" Miko giggled, kissing you on the cheek. "You can be a naughty little thing sometimes, can't you?" she's gonna be the death of you, judging by the fact of rising reddness on your face and your fastened heartbeat. But you'll love that beautiful woman until your last breath.

Ei was sitting with you on the couch and eating milk dango and other desserts that you grabbed on your walk around Inazuma. She was happy with your company and the opportunity to talk to you about a lot of different things. For her, these were peaceful and good moments.

But her peaceful thoughts, in which she was immersed, were interrupted by your soft giggles. Ei blinked a couple times and glanced at you sitting in your phone and texting someone with a blush on your face and a smile.

She was stunned by how happy you was. Her thoughts about eternity of certain things pounding in her mind. What if your relationships is not eternal? What if you find someone better for yourself? Ei wasn't jealous person, but a little insecure. Not that she thought that she wasn't good enough for you, but she was afraid that, just like everything changes in Inazuma, you will change too. Change your feelings for her and turn your back to her and leave her like everyone else that she cared about.

You glanced at her because she was too silent for a couple of minutes already to see her deep in thoughts that were far from happy judging by her expression. Was it your little prank that affected her that much? It must be the prank. You felt a pang of guilt for making Ei sad and reached to put your hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Ei, is everything alright? You seem upset." you asked softly. She looked in your eyes and smiled a little. "Nothing. I was just thinking about something. It's not big deal, don't worry." but you was worryied. Last thing you wanted to ever do was upset Ei, she was in this state for too long, you wanted to give her happiness she deserved for the suffering she had to go through.

"If you're upset because of my chat conversation, I'm sorry. It was a prank, I didn't mean to upset you. I love you and will never leave you, you know that." you hugged Ei, kissing her on the top of her head. You knew her too well to know the exact reason why this prank distressed her. You felt her shoulders relaxed a bit as she hugged you back. She had trouble talking about her problems, but with you she didn't even need to. You understood her enough that words were unnecessery when such moments usually came.

Shenhe

You was sitting with Shenhe on Mount Hulao, admiring the view from here. It was peaceful, quiet and lovely. It was common to sit here during sunsets just holding hands and saying nothing. You had a connection that no one had. Words? What's that? Even if you both were mute that would change nothing between you. Shenhe herself wasn't that much of a speaker due to her aloofness.

But suddenly you took your hand away from hers and picked up a phone started texting someone and giggling. Shenhe stopped admiring the view and looked at you. You was happy and slightly blushed. She touched your cheek with back of her fingers. "Are you cold?" she asked with slight concern making you blush even more. "No, don't worry, I'm fine." you looked at her with a smile. "Oh. You blushed and I thought that you was cold. But why was you giggling? Someone texted you?" she was oblivious and didn't think something strange about it. "Yeah, it's not big deal." she nodded, but hugged you and sometimes was glancing at you.

You knew that your prank didn't leave her uninteressed. And when she glanced again she saw a note on the screen that says "It was a prank, honey. I loved your cute reaction, though <3" and that made her smile blushing a little and hug you harder, whispering in your ear "I love you too, darlin'." that made your heart beat faster and face turned red.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #shenhe x reader #shenhe x you #ei x reader #ei x you #raiden x reader #raiden shogun x reader #raiden shogun x you #raiden shogun #shenhe #yae x you #yae x reader #yae miko #yae miko x you #yae miko x reader

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rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

liebestraum [park jisung]

if anyone asked park jisung if he believed in ghosts, he would say yes– for he saw longing grow legs and follow him.

pairing: park jisung x fem! reader genre: summer break au. coming of age, slice of life, angst, fluff warnings: mentions of parents' divorce, swearing word count: 11k (11.190) playlist: liebestraum - franz liszt / the gold - phoebe bridgers / our summer - txt / could cry just thinking about you - troye sivan / burning love - elvis presley / if not for you - maneskin / we'll never have sex - leith ross / christmas kids - roar / raindrops (an angel cried) - ariana grande / ceilings - lizzy mcalpine / the loneliest - maneskin / about you - the 1975

a/n: this is mainly for you, liebestraum anon <3 thank you so much for being the most supportive friend, i really enjoy talking with you. hope the wait was worth it and hope the fic doesn't disappoint. i think that if it wasn't for you, this fic would never see the light of day HAHA

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl his aunt popped into the record player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea for the guests that are arriving soon, Park Jisung wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. His head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to the music, the classical tunes almost making him overthink more than he has before. He wonders what would happen if he just left the room, left his aunt’s house and ran away so far no one could ever find him.

He finds himself fantasizing about stuff like this a lot lately. Listening to classical music– because of course his aunt listens to music from the 19th century, she’s almost as old as the composers themselves– he wonders what came through the mind of the author of the song when he wrote such trivial melodies.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl his aunt popped into the player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea for the guests that are arriving soon, Park Jisung drifts away to a soft slumber, deep enough to make him more tired, but light enough to wake him up when the doorbell rings and the obnoxious laughter of his dear aunt pierces through his ears.

His aunt wakes him up with a screech. Frankly, it hasn’t been that long since he’s fallen asleep and he truly doesn’t really know if it was his position on the floor that made her scream, or the fact that he’s embarrassing her in front of the guests by sleeping on the floor in the living room, but nonetheless, he’s quick to stand up and bow to the guests, trying hard to be respectful.

His aunt nervously chews on the inside of her cheek. Her smile is a little too forced when she introduces all of them to him, but he tries hard to ignore the fact that she looks like an utter clown, pretending her house is a beautiful, welcoming shrine, because laughing out loud at her antics would surely do him no good. See, Jisung doesn't like to anger his aunt. It’s not that he doesn't enjoy the silent treatment she gives him, finally letting him breathe in the quiet– the feeling of suffocating escaping him for once in a while– but he simply just doesn’t enjoy it when she only glares at him and doesn’t speak more words than a single sentence announcing when the dinner’s ready. It only serves to make him feel more alienated.

“Jisung, these are my friends from university,” his aunt recites, sounding rehearsed, and he bets she acted out the scene in her head a thousand times before falling asleep last night, so it’s all perfect when the actual moment happens in real life, “their names are Jinyoung and Nayeon, they met in university and got married a few years later.”

He hums, scamming the adults from head to toe, noticing the neat way they present themselves. He wonders if this is how his parents looked to strangers when they used to visit their old friends. The truth is, they never looked as neat and as in tune with each other as this couple does in his eyes– but maybe he just wasn’t able to perceive them this way due to the image he made of their marriage when they were at home.

Eyes traveling to the person behind them, the fringe falling to their forehead, he gets captivated by a mysterious look in their orbs, hands hidden in the pockets of their jacket. Jisung’s not too sure if his aunt caught him staring at the unintroduced guest– now, he will admit that he stared at the person, for they were a stranger to him and for no other reason– but he know for sure that they did, from how they squint their eyes at Jisung and offer him a teasing smile.

“Oh, and this is Y/N,” his aunt says, nudging the person closer to his nephew, as if to present a thing meant to solve all of his problems, “their child. They are staying for the summer, so I expect you two to hang out often, since you’re the same age and all!”

Looking at his aunt, a dead look mirroring his eyes, he hears the person– you– with a voice sweet but a little prickly, just like the smell of a Christmas tree his family used to have in their living room during December, ask a question that is easily able to beat him down to the ground in one second, despite not really knowing you long enough to be this affected by a single strand of words plastered together.

“Does this mean we have to be friends?” you say, eyeing his aunt. Jisung doesn't know if you two have met before, because he himself hasn’t been around his aunt this often, but the familiarity in your eyes tells him that this shouldn’t be your first time being around his aunt. He has no way of proving it, and since he doesn't care enough to ask, he may never actually know.

“That’s- that’s not what I was hinting at, but I’m sure you two would make good friends!” his aunt chirps, making him suddenly wonder if her friends even agreed on letting their child spend time with a boy they just saw for the first time, sleeping on the floor of his aunt’s living room. He doesn’t think his aunt actually cares about their opinion, though. He thinks she just desperately wants him out of the house sometimes. Truth be told, he doesn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault that he had to suddenly waddle into her house, eat her food and sleep in the spare bedroom for the summer– if he was in his aunt’s shoes, he’d want his comfort back as well. She didn’t ask for this. And he doesn’t even know why she agreed in the first place. “You are quite similar and have a lot in common, is what I meant,” his aunt finishes, and Jisung cringes under her gaze, because in reality, how could she even know?

A sigh escapes your lips, eyes rolling as you look over at your parents and snicker. “Am I at least getting paid for hanging out with this loser?”

“Y/N, watch your mouth!” your mother snaps, an apologetic look in her eyes.

Truth is, though, the comment doesn’t affect him. At least not in the way it should– it doesn’t offend him, it doesn’t hurt. Instead, he grins, looking you dead in the eyes, already liking the foreign excitement in his bones that dares to make his life feel much more lively than it has while he was locked up in the spare bedroom of his aunt’s house.

“I’m Park Jisung.”

Your lips widen into a cheshire grin, Jisung’s surroundings suddenly disappearing into thin air, the adults in their own universe now, not heard of and not seen. Staring you into your eyes for a heartbeat, another few words escape his mouth as a premise, unknowingly setting the tone for the two of you already.

“Let’s hang out. Show me around. If I have fun, you get a tenner. If it sucks, you’re not getting paid for being friends with me. Deal?”

He doesn’t know if it was the money on the line, or if you saw something in him that interested you enough to keep on giving in. And after all this time, he doesn't think he’ll get an answer– it’s too far out of his reach, too far back in history. But somehow, in that moment, you took his hand and shook it, starting off something that made Park Jisung who he is today. The contact of your hand with his felt like electricity to the boy, the sudden courage disappearing right as he feels the softness of your palm, and when your eyes lock, he physically feels his knees buckle under him– that’s the effect you have on the boy.

Your roles are soon reversed when you’re brought back into reality by an adult’s voice, your hands losing contact as you break away, looking at your mother with a glare in your eyes.

“Look, Ms Park has a piano! Go and play something for us, sweetie.”

A pained sigh escapes your lips, seemingly already knowing you won’t get out of this no matter how hard you try or plead, slowly walking over to the instrument settled in the corner of the room, cracking your knuckles and humming to yourself, thinking of what song to play.

“Jisung plays too, actually!” his aunt chimes in, and he sighs, halting in his movements,

because one, he can’t play the piano, and two, the song rolling off your fingers is so beautiful, so melodic he secretly starts to hope that he did.

Park Jisung can’t believe himself in the very moment when he’s standing at the rocky beach with you, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck every few seconds in a poor attempt of calming down his nerves and the erracting beating of his heart. He’s only 18 and has no experience with girls, so he thinks this is the sheer effect of the fact that he can’t swim well and he’s afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you– he bets you’re not strong enough to bring out his drowning body out of the depths of the lake anyways, so it really must be fear that’s holding him down from undressing in front of you and jumping into the refreshing water.

“Come on, Park Jisung, what are you waiting for?” you jab at him, a sharp finger pointing straight to his ribs. Your top is already off, a peach-colored bikini top catching Jisung’s attention that he instantly averts and focuses on the shiny water instead, worried he’d get caught if his eyes lingered a bit more. Again, Park Jisung is only 18 and he barely leaves the house– the only girl in a bikini he’s ever seen were the actors in the movies he watched on TV or the characters in the anime he once binged watched in the middle of the night, and those curves were drawn-on, on top of that. He doesn’t know what to do around a girl, and holding a conversation is suddenly that harder when his eyes keep drifting towards your body.

“I- I can’t really swim,” he mumbles out, another set of scratching his neck taking place, the slowly burning skin on the sharp sun making him shift in discomfort.

“Fuck’s sake,” a curse escapes your mouth, the word catching the poor boy off-guard even more, since he’s not used to anyone speaking in that tone around him– with the exception of his parents when they argue, of course, but he’d rather not bring up the memory– and his big eyes scan you again, surprised and almost a little worried of your next actions, “well, I’m not getting 10 pounds this way, am I? Didn’t know the uptown boy can’t swim…” you mutter under your breath before you shake your head in disbelief and shrug off your shorts, throwing the clothing towards the beach towel sprawled out on the shore.

Now, Jisung tries really really hard not to look at your bum. That would be really embarrassing– truly humiliating– and he’s a gentleman, of course. And it doesn’t make it better that the whole journey here, you were rambling about your day and about how bored you are in this little village, and he found the scrunch of your nose so adorable, because now he has the crushing reality dawning up on him that he’s 18 and finally having a sexual awakening. No, he won’t stare at your body. He’s simply not allowed.

“What are you waiting for? Are you gonna go into the water in your clothes?” you ask again, looking him up and down when he doesn’t move.

“Oh, I was just thinking I could… you know, stay here and hang out by myself until you’re done swimming, or something…” he says, and the more words that spill out of his mouth, the more embarrassed he feels, because your gaze suddenly locks with his and you seem so amused by his rambling, you find his words so hilarious, he doesn’t miss a heartbeat before he sighs more-so to himself and takes off his shirt, clearing his throat awkwardly when he finds you staring at his naked skin.

“Glad you got the memo,” you muster up, shaking your head in disbelief and tying your hair up into a neat bun. “I swear it’s not that deep from the corners, you’re not gonna drown. Your aunt would kick my head off if I left you here to fry,” you mumble and Jisung hates how it sounds like you’re truly only here because you have to, because the more seconds he spends staring into your eyes trying to predict your next move, the more he wishes you were here because you were only slightly interested in spending time with the new kid in the village– him.

“Alright,” he mumbles, and when he’s finally only in his swimming suit, taking cautious steps and following you towards the water, he finds his anxiety levels rising, because the truth is, he’s never swam in a lake before. Sure, he’s been in pools– but those aren’t so scary. He can almost always feel the bottom of it under his feet and he knows they don’t get as deep. Surely, there is a little to no possibility of him drowning in a swimming pool. Lakes, however, are a different thing. He can’t reach the bottom, and if he does, the surface is disgusting and slippery and won’t help him to his feet– if he really got too stiff and panicked, he could die. And that’s perhaps what scares him the most as he takes the first step on the slick rock at the very edge of the water, the slight stumble of his feet only making him more aware of the reality that’s in front of him.

“You’re such a scaredy cat,” you tease him when you look at him from behind your shoulder, a grin on your face acting like a sucker punch towards Jisung’s gut. And the truth is, he’d be more relaxed if you just gave him a minute– to collect his thoughts, calm his erracting heartbeat as he’d tell himself that there’s nothing to worry about and that the water here truly isn’t as deep yet and the worst thing that could happen is that he lands on his ass, but you don’t give him a chance to do so as your hand slips into his– trying to steady him, as you walk deeper into the water.

Your soft hand in his, fingers intertwined, he finds himself holding on to you like a lifeline– because in his tragic imagination, you might as well be one– and the beating of his heart only gets faster when he gets painfully aware of the sweat pooling in the palms of his hand and the very apparent hesitance in his step. If you notice it, you don’t mention it– to which Jisung’s equal parts surprised and glad, and suddenly, his figure is waist-level in the water before he even has a chance to register it and your hand lets go of his, the momentarily hypnotization of your hold escaping him when he has to face you as he stands still in the cool liquid.

You’re staring at him with a flashy smile, expecting eyes waiting for him to react to you in any way– and when nothing comes, you must realize that he’s too starstrucked by your appearance to muster up anything coherent enough.

“You alright there?”

He finds himself nodding, a hum escaping his throat to accompany his response. It’s not enough for you, though, and the truth is, Park Jisung should’ve been prepared for this, since even the two days of knowing you must be enough to get to know the true intentions of your actions– because you tease him again, and even though the boy gets sulky easily, he doesn’t seem to find himself paying it much mind.

“A cat got your tongue?” you snicker, shaking your head at him.

For a second, Jisung debates on acting dumb– maybe more silence or a shrug of his shoulders would rile you up more, get you more annoyed– but he should’ve learned already that you’re always one step ahead of him, in more cases than one, when a splash of cold water hits his heated skin, making him hiss in shock.

Your laughter fills his ears as he watches you stand still in front of him, presumably not expecting much threat from the boy that’s barely able to move in the lake, but the angelic look on your face acts like a dopamine kick for the boy, vitamin D flowing through his veins as he reacts to your teasing with another splash of water, feet delicately chasing you around the lake, screeches coming out your throat like music to his ears on the sunny summer afternoon.

The water fight ends with him tripping over a stone as he tries to run away from you, and the shock on your face is evident– Jisung finds himself feeling endearment at the hint of you worrying about him– when you rush towards the boy and lean over his body sitting in the water, Jisung’s worst-case scenario coming to life right in front of your eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask, a hand offered to him to get him back up on his feet.

And Jisung takes it, only to tug you down towards him, his body shielding you from the impact, but still hitting the ice-cold water of the lake. With your face only centimeters away from his, your annoyed, yet amused face causing him to grin, he finds himself laughing at your next remark.

“I take it as today’s worthy of a tenner then, Park Jisung. Having too much fun, aren’t you?”

To Park Jisung, summer feels like sleep and the humid air in his little room back home. He’s never really been anywhere on vacations or holidays, because frankly, with his father’s nature and his mother’s low income job, there wasn’t really much space to go somewhere and explore what it’s like to enjoy the summer heat instead of constantly angrily swearing at the weather. For that matter, Park Jisung never really enjoyed summer. He was always locked up in that small room, sometimes listening to his parents’ arguing– which he so desperately tried to ignore every time, but his heart did that weird hammering each time his father broke a glass or his mother raised her voice a bit louder than usual– and when his parents weren’t arguing, the house would be too quiet, making him overthink.

To Park Jisung, summer feels like overslept afternoons and boredom. He doesn’t know any better, and he would even pity himself, but the truth is, he thinks that’s embarrassing. People have it worse, after all– he’s just a teenager with no life purpose. Just like any other, right?

So when Jisung arrives at his aunt’s place for the summer– no longer having to listen to his parents’ arguing, because after 18 years of his life, they finally decided to call it quits and drag their son to the only relative he vaguely knows for the time being, until they figure everything out– he expects nothing more from the old house than what he experienced his whole growing up. He expects overslept afternoons and sweaty pajamas clinging to his back, humid air everywhere and the weird hollowness in the pit of his stomach.

To his surprise– and believe me, he didn’t really expect this at all– the summer before university is completely different, and he’s pleased with the change.

He wakes up late one afternoon, because he doesn’t expect anything exciting to happen in the time he spends asleep anyway, and when he drags his feet to the kitchen, body tense and hurting from the weird positions he found himself sleeping in, his mind is instantly sweeped of all the haziness when he founds your figure in his aunt’s house, laughing at the radio host babbling through the device.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his aunt greets him from the corner of the room, and he’s suddenly too aware of his bed hair and the fact that his clothing is all wrinkled and his face is puffy, because he feels your eyes on him and he hates to know that you see him in such state. Not that he’s any eye candy any other day, of course– he just thinks you could’ve seen him in a more presentable light, that’s all.

“G’morning,” he mutters as he scratches the back of his neck and looks around the room, trying to grasp the events of 1PM– barely morning anymore.

“If you woke up earlier, you could’ve gone with us,” his aunt chirps in from the stove, swirling something sweet-smelling in a big pot. Her face is fawned over with a glaze of sweat and even the wide-open window does nothing to get the air to clear out– Jisung thinks that’s just the magic of summer. It’s always too hot, and the only thing you can do is complain.

“Where did you go?”

“To the forest,” you smile at him, seeing as he takes a few hesitant steps towards your figure, “we picked berries and now your aunt’s making jam. A classic village-like summer activity, don’t ya think?” you chirp, tugging your hair behind your ear as you pick through the big bowl and put away the berries that don’t look as good, choosing to not include them in the jam.

Jisung hums in agreement, still a little confused, as he takes another few steps around the room. Looking over his aunt’s shoulder, he sees the blood colored liquid boiling at the stove, the air even sweeter right above the steam, and he suddenly wonders if this is today’s activity. Looking over his shoulder at you, dressed in shorts and a tank top, he shrugs to himself– if it means that you’ll be over at his house the whole time the jam’s being made, he doesn’t mind helping out in the kitchen.

“Can you wash these?” you ask, pointing towards the bowl full of berries. He nods to your order and takes it over to the sink, carefully splashing water over the fruit and making sure each piece is clean– he doesn’ want to embarrass himself in front of you. Frankly, he doesn’t know what’s going on or how exactly jam is made, but you seem like you’re a regular in those activities– he doesn’t want you to think he’s a city guy with no knowledge of how the world works. Because that’s kind of true, but you don’t have to know that.

Bringing the bowl over to the table again, he watches as you look up at him from the next bowl you’re currently sorting through, raising your brows in question at his stare. The boy almost wants to look away from being caught, but he figures it’s too late anyway, so he challenges you and waits for you to jab at him or roll your eyes.

Instead, you pick up one berry from the bowl and press it up against his lips, an innocent smile playing with your features as you wait for him to eat it, looking at him with expecting eyes.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely magical,” Jisung replies, overly-exaggerated, seeing you grin. He steals himself another berry from the bowl, escaping from the playful slap you want to give to the palm of his hand, before he sits on the chair opposite of yours, silently watching you doing your task.

“Now, today’s events might not be as exciting, so you can save your next 10 pounds, but once your aunt’s hands get tired, you can take over and stir the jam while it cooks,” you explain, teasing him with your little inside joke– you’re not actually getting paid for hanging out with him. Not really, although Jisung did buy you ice cream on your way home from the lake the other day. So in a way, you are. Just not with real money.

“So fun!” he says, watching you as you roll your eyes.

The truth is, he doesn’t care much about what he does during the day. As long as you’re present, he’s satisfied.

To Park Jisung, summer feels like overslept afternoons, his little humid room back home and boredom. This afternoon, the smell of berries, the sound of the radio and your bubbly laugh when you tease him joins the mix– and he thinks those overpower the grudge he has against the season with such measures he prays every day feels like summer from now on.

The room is kind of chilly when Jisung rests his back against the tall bookshelf– the side of the furniture, so the shelves aren’t uncomfortable against his back– eyes glued to the pages of the book. He finds himself too immersed in the story to notice anyone coming into his aunt’s living room, too occupied with the sentences to hear the shuffling of your feet as you drag your legs across the house. His aunt always lets you in with no questions– you only knock on the door and smile at her when she opens it, slickly jumping inside and finding who you’re looking for in one of the few rooms of the house– more often than not, you catch Park Jisung off guard, but he is starting to get used to the euphoric surprise.

Jisung is an avid reader. He’s liked books since he was little, and it was the only thing he found himself spending money on growing up. When the amount of books he could read in one month became too big for him to keep buying more and more prints, his mother took him to the town to get him his own library card.

After looking through the bookshelf in his aunt’s house, he was surprised– and a little annoyed– at the fact that there were only romance books in store. He already finished the copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy he brought with himself when his parents sent him off, and he didn’t really think of bringing more. Finding his aunt’s bookshelf was like finding a treasure, only if the contents weren’t so disappointing. Still, a romance book is better than no book, he thinks, as he picks a familiar one up and sits on the floor, immersing himself into the story.

“What are you reading?” he suddenly hears, head snapping up to see you watching him from above, eyes skimming through the words.

“A book,” he responds, voice low, before his eyes are back on the pages.

“I can see that, genius,” you snicker, situating yourself next to him and resting your back against the bookshelf, “what book is it?” you pry more, and even though you are almost always the main object of Park Jisung’s attention and thoughts, this time, you are set to the second place as he continues to read the novel.

You are rewarded with silence, a thing that makes your brows furrow and a sigh escape your lips. You’re not used to this kind of treatment, it seems, and when the interested teenager doesn’t give you his time of the day, you have no other choice but to ask for it yourself, no matter how embarrassing it might feel. You’re okay with biting it down– you know he won’t try to tease you about it anyways.

“Jisung, give me attention,” you simply say, jabbing your finger to his thigh.

“I’m reading.”

“I came to visit you!” you act offended, an over-exaggerated sigh escaping your lips.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Jisung mumbles, still reading through the pages, although his focus is now a little thrown-off.

Giving yourself a few seconds to think, chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug. “Okay, then. Read it out loud, so I’m entertained too.”

“It’s the middle of the book, Y/N–”

“Come on, I read The great Gatsby before anyway,” you say as you nestle a little in your place, resting your back flush against the shelf again, “read for me so we don’t sit in silence,” you order.

Jisung spares you a glance, a second of eye contact enough for him to be convinced, huffing before he averts his eyes back to the book and clears his throat, reading aloud.

He doesn’t like to be the center of attention. He doesn’t like it when everyone’s eyes are on him and he feels them watching, he absolutely despises the fact that he’s the only thing you’re focused on as he reads through the words and his voice shakes a little at each passage. He feels his face heartening and sweat slowly forming on his forehead, each of his fingertips tingling with the fact that he’s the only thing you’re paying attention to right now, your only object of interest.

“He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete,” he reads, and when he feels your head resting on his shoulder, your soft hair tickling the sensitive skin of his neck, he almost jumps out of his own skin and crawls under the ground, because somewhere along the way, he admits in shame, in his imagination, you turned into the main character.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl you popped into the record player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea from his aunt, Park Jisung no longer wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. He listens deeply to the music– the loud guitars and the ringing of the drums, so dearly reminding him of the beating of his own heart that involuntarily matches the song somewhere between the verse and the chorus– and when you slip back inside, carrying a tray with two mugs in the very middle, Jisung’s eyes unconsciously watch you as you walk through the space. It’s a weird parallel that makes him snicker.

“Why are you just laying here?” you nudge him with your leg, his figure limp on the floor. “We didn’t come here to lay around, little boy.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” he hums as he nods, looking at you from below, the curves of your face and the glow on the tips of your cheekbones making his heartbeat stummer for just a beat, an excited glint in his stomach making itself known when you grin at him and your eyes bear into his with an uncertain feeling of mischief and playfulness.

“Are you mentally preparing, or something?”

“Something like that,” he admits, sighing to himself when you offer him a hand and beg him to stand up with your eyes, your skin soft under his touch when he hosts himself up and stands aimlessly in the middle of the room.

You stand in front of him, stiff, for only a few seconds. The eye contact you share makes Jisung feel electrified, but he doesn’t find himself averting his gaze– he’s too scared that you’d find him cowardly, or too shy to meet your glances. And even though it might be true and your whole existence is of exciting importance to the boy, he doesn’t want to show it to you so bluntly, so he chooses to bury those hints and stand his ground, waiting for you to look away first. He didn’t expect you to take it as a challenge– but when his still body annoys you a bit too much, he earns himself a bump to his shoulder, the contact of your tightened fist making him break into a victorious grin.

“Move!”

Jisung takes a step to his left, seeing as you roll your eyes at his teasing manner– normally you’re the one taking the lead in playful banter, but he’s feeling bold today, energized with whatever spirit– and you notice, hating the way he has the upper hand over you for once, deciding to once again take the matters to your own hands and lead him through the situation, grabbing him by his hand and strongly pulling him towards either side of the room, rolling your hips in your place and jumping around, laughing when he doesn’t seem to obey your strategy.

“Jisung-ah! You promised,” you pout, the soft demand in your tone making the boy sigh in defeat and roll his eyes at you, because if you’re good at something, it’s using your words and taking advantage of his weakness for you. And so he does what you want him to, finally holding you more firmly when his hands miraculously find your waist and he dances with you to the rock music– jumping around and twirling the two of you in the middle of the room, because there aren’t many dance moves you can do to this kind of music unless you’re really skilled– and there it is, the wide grin settling onto your face, like a sweet, sweet reward to the boy.

Because even though you really wanted to have fun with Jisung– to get the promised tenner, you said– your mum didn’t let you go to the party in town, no matter how hard you pleaded and tried to reason with her that Jisung’s gonna be there with you to protect you. His aunt knew better than to believe the claim– if there’s someone needing protection, it’s her nephew, and being the one that’s supposed to do the job might be too much pressure for the poor boy.

And when you pouted and mourned about the fact while breaking the news to Jisung yesterday afternoon, he found himself promising you that you can have your own party at his house, dancing around and having even more fun listening to his aunt’s outdated records and drinking chamomile tea that’s surely better than whatever alcohol they are serving in the town.

He’s not a good dancer. The music is not his cup of tea. But hearing your laughter piercing through his eardrums whenever he dips you down or does a silly dance solo just to impress you with his playfulness, he finds himself being content.

He hasn’t laughed this hard in a long while. He says it’s because of your outrageous ideas.

Deep inside, though, he knows it’s because of your sole presence.

“You already finished The Great Gatsby?” you ask, your soft voice cutting through the solemn wind. Jisung glances up at you from his spot next to your figure, the two of you sitting under the tree behind his house, silence enveloping you two like a blanket, only disturbed by the chirping of birds and cicadas in the distance.

He nods. “I’m a fast reader,” he snickers.

“You must have liked the book,” you mumble, your head falling to his shoulder as you nestle in your place a little, the book in your lap still open as you engage in the conversation with him. You’re wearing a summer dress, your bruised knees on full display, and something about the air smelling like strawberries makes him think and wonder of the fact that this feels a little too much like a date, but he’s too afraid to let the thought ring out loud.

“Not really,” he states, “I don’t like romance novels.”

“You don’t?” you ask, the statement taking you off guard.

“No.”

“Why?”

“They’re not realistic,” he mutters under his nose.

“You don’t believe in love?” you ask, your eyes locking with his in a curious manner. The more he bears his eyes into yours, the more he watches as the glimmers in your orbs swim around and hypnotize him, the more he wishes he could say yes, the more he yearns to tell you that he does, he always has and he always will believe in love, but smiling to himself, more out of despair than out of anything, he shakes his head in disapproval and sees the shadow casting over your face, breaking him.

“Why?” you ask, the tone of your voice almost hurt, as if it was a question of life and death.

“Because… it doesn’t seem real. It’s all an illusion, a chemical reaction, even, it’s- it’s not forever, you know? It messes with your brain and makes you feel dizzy for a while, and then after a while, you realize you don’t feel the same anymore and it was all just a lack of judgment. I don’t think love exists,” he says, “or at least, I don’t think it can last.”

Your eyes watch him with a newly found sense, something in your brain turning fast as you chew on the inside of your cheek, and he can see it in your eyes– you want to disagree with him, you want to tell him that he’s stupid and silly and he doesn’t know anything, he’s just too burdened with what’s going on in his life and that he judges everything by the image of love that was fed to him by his parents; the love that didn’t last, the love that didn’t exist– but you don’t say anything along those lines, maybe in a quiet understanding, knowing it won’t change his mind, knowing it’s not your place to tell him otherwise.

Instead, you only bear your eyes back into the pages of your book and sigh. “I disagree. Because, Jisung, tell me,” you say, sighing before you continue, “how could it not be real, when everyone writes about it? When everyone sings about it, yearns for it and so desperately wants it? How could it not last when this book is older than any of us, yet it’s still considered one of the most trivial parts of romance?”

He watches you from above, the crown of your head now in his point of view when he listens to your voice. “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how,” you read, “isn’t that beautiful, Jisung? Isn’t that love? Don’t tell me it’s all an illusion.”

Your eyes don’t meet his when you speak those words. Not able to focus back on his own reading, he becomes painfully aware of your head on his shoulder again, the soft tickling of your hair against his neck– and he finds himself thinking that if love is an illusion, a chemical reaction, a lack of judgment, even– if love doesn’t last, if it’s all just a drunkenness that makes him dizzy, he doesn’t mind.

At the end of the day, what matters might just be the present moment. And if this doesn’t last, he’s content with how he’s feeling for you now– even though it might fizzle out, he’s grateful for the things you’ve taught him.

Park Jisung’s summer is filled with him staring at you in your summer dress, with him watching you when you ramble on and on about something that makes barely any sense in his brain, with you dancing around the room and playing the piano in his aunt’s living room, the melodies sometimes lullying him to dreams filled with your scent and your voice calling from him when he wakes from his slumber.

Your face is the image that fills his brain when he thinks of sunny days, and somewhere along the way, he stopped trying to conceal the subtle infatuation he has over you, for you no longer tease him for his gentle stares and allow him to admire you in silence.

Today, much like all other days, he finds himself in your company. Sitting in the meadow, side by side– you convinced him he’d like the sight, but he finds himself watching you smile instead– the smell of strawberries fills his nose when you take out your lip balm and put it on, your soft lips suddenly glistening with the moisture, a pinkish tint like a subtle overlay over your smile. Indulged into the motion, Jisung can’t seem to look away, and he could play it off as him so desperately wanting to know if the lip balm tastes as delicious as it smells, but suddenly, all he can think about it how he wants to kiss you and how if he doesn’t look away soon, he won’t be able to control the urge.

But Jisung’s always been too weak when it comes to you. Eyes glued to your lips, still talking about philosophical themes the boy could never wrap his mind around, never in a million years, the stream of words is suddenly cut off your lips when he presses his against them, tasting the sweetness off your skin. And his suspicions were correct– the lip balm is as tasty as it smells, yet, even better than he could expect, tasting more of strawberries dipped in honey– but in his mind, the sweetness you and not the lip balm, and when your palm meets his cheek and holds him in place, he feels close to falling apart right in your hold, a fragile pot full of love and affection for you only, eyes pressed shut from nerves.

He doesn’t think he’s a good kisser. It’s his first time and he never really thought about the action before– never had the opportunity or the right person to prompt the thought into his head. He tries hard to ignore the thought of him being bad at the action, because he doesn’t want to ruin this memory for himself, and as you pull away for a heartbeat and then press yourself into him once more, he finds himself forgetting the time, space and the whole universe– there’s only you, you, you.

And he could lie to himself and convince himself that he kissed you just to taste the strawberries on his tongue, but it’s far from the simple reality– he kissed you just to kiss you.

Not thinking of the future this holds to him, not thinking of the fact that one day, you’ll have to say goodbye. Not thinking of much more, not expecting any difference in your dynamic. Deep down, he doesn’t even really want things to change– he likes the stillness, the security it holds. He kissed you just to kiss you– it was that simple. The desire was too strong to hold back. It was gentle, it was sweetness, and he found himself wondering how come it took him such a while.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room with you, listening to the silence ringing in his ears and making his brain wander, Park Jisung wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, too enchanted with your presence to realize the weight of the situation, too immersed in the blissful unknowingness than paying attention to the stresses that even brought him to his aunt’s house in the first place, but his head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to his thoughts, letting the fear swallow him. He once again wonders what would happen if he just left the room, left his aunt’s house and ran away so far no one could ever find him– it’s a familiar tale now, but he’s never really quite reached the end.

“What are you thinking about?” your voice breaks him out of the tense slumber, his eyes growing wide as he snaps his head to watch you next to him, your orbs filled with tender care and worry. The outside world is slowly turning into a little less vibrant one, the summer nights growing colder with the undeniable fact of the season ending soon, autumn taking its place and Park Jisung’s own departure slowly burning at the tips of his toes.

He doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s inevitable. Maybe he should pay it more mind.

“Home,” he mumbles, squinting his eyes as he turns his head back straight and watches the spiderwebs in the corner, the weight of his words making the atmosphere thicker. “It’s not gonna be the same,” he adds, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

The silence doesn’t go away as your hand envelopes his, your fingers playing with his in a calming manner, yet still having a playful aura to it as you tug on the joints of his fingers and wave them around in the air, eyes focused on the way his palm fits into yours. “Isn’t that a good thing?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he answers.

And it’s true. He doesn’t know– fights and anger and bad temper is all he’s ever known, all he’s ever been used to. The silent treatment and the petty arguments are what raised him, and now that it’s gone, he wonders if it’s gonna make him feel better. The truth is, sometimes, feeling like this can feel essential. It feels safe to be so miserable, for when the bright times of him and his parents being okay and getting along happened, he’s always felt unsure, like the storm was about to happen each time; like he couldn’t be happy for long, because it felt uncomfortably unsafe, having the hunch that it’s gonna get bad again any time. Feeling numb was safe. It couldn’t get worse than that– it’s what made him comfortable with his sadness.

And if it’s true that it’s gonna be better now, just because his parents are gonna be separated and they’re not gonna be in contact, is it really okay for him to feel happy about that? Is it really the end? The calm after the storm of his childhood and growing up? And is it okay to feel secure in loneliness? To feel okay with seeing his mother wither away and his dad turning to alcohol every time he visits him in his new house? Because he can picture it now– he sees it clear as day, that this is how the situation’s gonna end up, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you mumble, a poor attempt at soothing the boy.

He finds it hard to believe you. Sometimes he thinks you know everything– you’ve seen so much and taught him so much and told him so much about the world. But can you really know anything about a situation you’ve never encountered?

Still, his hopeless heart swells at your words, the comfort of your hand in his guarding him to reality. He thinks he made you up sometimes– he longed for something to comfort him so hard and for so long that the longing grew legs and followed him around, brightened up his withering days.

“I’m scared to come home,” he whispers, the tone barely audible in the so still room. He’s scared of what he’ll find. Sometimes he thinks he’s scared of the silence, for he was brought up in violent screams and doors always left a bit open– just in case. Is it going to be fine for him to find peace after the violence?

You lean up and watch the boy with eyes bigger than the whole universe, a soft smile playing with your features when your fingers trail the curve of his cheek. Jisung watches your lips and dreams of them on his, but there’s no use when you only trace the arch of his cupid's bone with the pad of your thumb, voice barely louder than a whisper, as if confiding him in a secret. “You’re gonna be okay.”

And with that, you’re gone. Like a dream. Your touch fades and your scent is forcefully dragged away from his nose.

After a few seconds, you play the piano for him again. He recognizes the song to be the same one you played on the first day you two met– and he wonders if it’s your favorite, or if you just don’t know how to play anything as well. The melody is often slow, romantic and idyllic, but builds into an intense complexity. Towards the end, the initial melody returns, bringing a sense of resolution and tranquility. He doesn’t know the name of the song– he’s never heard of it before meeting you– but in his soul, the feelings of love, longing and enchantment remain as he listens to the harmonies and passionate melody.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the song you play for him on the piano, so many words unsaid but hanging in the air, Park Jisung closes his eyes and feels a stray tear rolling down his cheek. The air smells of autumn when the breeze flows into the room through the open window, making the hairs on his arm stand up in attention, and his head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to the music, the classical tunes almost making him overthink more than he has before. He wonders what will happen if you left the room right now. If he’ll ever find you, wherever you are.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the song you play for him on the piano, so many words unsaid but hanging in the air, Park Jisung closes his eyes and lets himself fall into a soft slumber, the same way he did the first time you walked through the door to his life. During the sleep, he dreams of love.

Park Jisung opens his eyes on the last day of summer and feels coldness seeping into his bones. It’s not cold yet, the season hasn’t even ended, but there’s something about the aura of the morning that makes him crawl in his own skin and dread the day in front of him. After today, he’s supposed to come back home– he’s going to leave everything the summer taught him behind, in this little village, with his aunt he’s grown to adore more than he initially thought he could. It’s kind of depressing, if you really think about it, but Jisung would rather not think at all.

He sits up on the bed, burrowing his head into his palms and huffs heavily at the thoughts running through his brain. He’s not a morning person, sure, but he thinks perhaps his sudden mood change is the result of something completely else– something he doesn’t yet know and can’t quite put his finger on, can’t quite name.

Standing up and walking out of his room, naked feet in contact with the hardwood floor, the clique of the door feels unusually cold against his hand when he reaches for it, opening it and getting ready to face the day. He hasn’t said goodbye to you yet, but he knows he’ll have to today. It’s the last opportunity before he walks out of summer break for real, the last opportunity to see your smile and to hold you in his arms like he always yearned for whenever you were in his close proximity.

Yet, as he gets ready to take the first step out of the room, his feet come to contact with something sharp, a block-like object waiting for him outside of the door. Squinting below his toes, he finds a book on the hard tiles, picking it up and moving it closer up towards his nose. Reading over the title and the author’s name, his heart drops to his stomach, an unreasonable feeling of fear settling in his fingertips as he turns the page and reads through the contents, something scribbled on the first, worn-out page of the book catching his attention.

To my Jisung. Think of me when you read through the pages. You said you didn’t like romance novels, but I know you’re secretly a sucker for them. Always in your heart, Y/N.

A kiss mark in bright red is settled below the inscription, the lipstick stain he rarely ever seen you wear does nothing else than makes his heartbeat quicken and his fear intensify. He doesn’t have it confirmed yet, but in the depths of his mind and soul, he already knows– he knows it’s too late and you didn’t say goodbye before you left.

Still, his feet act before his brain does, his blurry vision ignored when he runs out of his aunt’s house and makes a jog towards the one you were staying at through the summer break. He puts on the first pair of shoes he finds at the doorstep and takes off, his aunt’s concerned yells ignored as he clutches the book to his chest, something about the beaten edges reminding him of the fact that it’s the one you always read in the shade under the single tree in the whole meadow, and it’s confirmed when he gets to your house– your parents’ car nowhere in sight, the windows shut and everything so intensely lonely.

And that’s when he allows himself to break– to fold at the grass in front of your house, to open the book and randomly find the sentence you quoted to him once, breaking his heart into a million different shatters. “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how,” he reads, and when his eyes trail over the next pages, he sees each one annotated, words scribbled on the sides of the pages, pretty quotes underlined. You left a piece of you with him, for him to keep, and he should feel lucky, for he has something to remember you by even though you’re long gone, but he just can’t get past the melody you played on the piano replaying over and over in his brain, reminding him that

you left without a goodbye and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do once he moves back home and you’re not going to be there, and oh how badly he wishes you kissed him for the last time yesterday, for he can’t remember how your lips felt against his anymore and he fears he may never feel the way he did when he was kissed by you ever again.

Rustling through the book, there’s a lone sheet of paper tucked behind the last page. Slowly walking home, head hung low, his eyes scanning the music sheet, the title of the song sits unfamiliar on his tongue when he repeats it under his breath like a broken mantra made to bring you back.

He promises himself to learn how to play it on the piano one day, just so he could hear it again. There’s an inkling feeling in him that the song might be important.

Wobbling through the classroom, happy that the bell finally rang and he can go home, Park Jisung hears his name called from the mouth of his Creative writing professor, much to his dismay, making him stop in his tracks and follow his voice with a low sigh. It’s Friday and it’s raining outside, meaning that if he won’t catch the last tram home, he’ll have to run through the rain without an umbrella, and that really wasn’t on his checklist for the week.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he hates this class or his Creative writing professor in the slightest. It’s quite the opposite, really– this class serves good to his vivid imagination and the daydreaming he practices every night before sleeping and sometimes even when he takes a long shower. His professor is nice as well– young enough to understand the minds that are filling the classroom, only getting his master’s degree recently– but still mature enough to lead the class in a way that makes everyone respect him in a healthy way. But today, on a rainy, gray Friday, after the last class of the week, Jisung really doesn’t feel like talking to Mr Kim in the slightest.

“Did you want to talk to me about something?” Jisung asks as soon as the classroom empties itself out and he is standing face to face with his professor. The man nods, taking his glasses off and putting them onto his desk, quickly turning around to his student again and only starting to talk once he makes sure the classroom is completely empty, just to stay confidential.

“Yes, I did,” he says. Humming under his breath as he turns around again, he searches through the papers sitting on the desk, seemingly looking for the ones that belong to Jisung, and clears his breath as he faces the boy again and furrows his brows at the writing on the paper.

“Is something wrong?” Jisung asks, full of concern. The truth is that the Creative writing class is one of the only classes that maintain his grades below the lowest level– the one that gets you kicked out of the university– and the face his professor’s currently making is surely not a one that seeps of satisfaction. It’s only natural for Jisung to feel worried, because with how badly he’s doing in Physics, he surely can’t afford to get a bad grade even in a class that’s supposed to come easily to him.

“No, no,” Mr Kim shakes his head in a hurry to quickly calm his student down, “it’s just…” trailing off, his eyes swiftly moving across the letters Jisung finished writing a few weeks ago, just a day before handing the first part of his assignment in, reading the first few lines over one more time. Jisung finds himself feeling irritated and frustrated, for his professor should be the one that’s good with words, but in this situation, he feels like he’s not telling him anything.

“What is it, then?” he asks, diving straight in. If he gets it out of him now, he might even catch the last tram, as long as he runs to the tram stop…

��Look, Jisung. What I’m going to tell you now might not make you happy, but I think it’s crucial for you,” he says, looking kindly, yet still firmly at the boy, “your writing… I like it. Quite honestly, I find it phenomenal. You have a way with words that just… when you explain feelings, you go into depths and details, and I find that really interesting from a boy like you.”

Jisung doesn’t know what the premise of his words are, and the sudden praise catches him off-guard, since he thought he’s going to get scolded. Furrowing his brows and muttering low words of appreciation, his professor continues with his little ment, finally clarifying his intentions. “But I have an issue with this,” he says, pointing to the papers in his hands, meeting eyes with Jisung again, “it’s not that it’s bad. Not at all, I said what I said, I really find your writing the best in this class. However, I think it lacks something.”

Stepping from one foot to the other, Jisung chews on the inside of his cheek, confused. “And what does it lack, sir?”

“Emotion,” he deadpans, looking straight into his eyes. The words surprise him, making him furrow his brows at the explanation, mumbling in confusion.

“But… but you just said I describe emotions well?”

“That’s true, Jisung, however… Your works are full of emotion, but I don’t think those emotions are yours. You’re describing something you don’t feel, something you don’t understand, and that makes me feel like you’re trying to sell me something you’re constantly having to make yourself believe is real,” Mr Kim answers, switching his tone into a more considerate one, “I like your imagination, I like the plot, however, this all means that your writing lacks any real depth.”

Jisung gasps at the harsh words, the reality of them making him sink a little in his place. “I thought a lot about the plot and the intentions of the characters, I really don’t know what I did wrong–”

“If this was any other student in this classroom that handed in this work, I’d praise them for outdoing themselves. It’s good. It’s almost perfect, I’d say, and I mean that. But when it comes to you, Jisung…” he trails off again, trying to find the right words, “I think you can do better. I know you can do better, only if you actually cared a bit about the things you write. Did you enjoy writing this? Did you like this work?”

“I… I did- I think I do?” he stammers, answer sounding almost like a question,

Mr Kim stares at him for a while, almost as if he’s trying to make the boy realize the lies he’s telling from his own mouth right now, but when it doesn’t come, he just sighs and offers him the papers, watching the boy take them into his hold and stare at him, completely oblivious.

“Jisung, you’re writing like you have to do it. It doesn’t mean anything to you. At least this story doesn’t. And you know, I can see it in your words, it’s- you’re describing everything so deeply and so beautifully, but at the end of the day, you don’t like or care for anything you write, and that’s why it feels extraordinarily empty,” he says, watching the boys eyes widen and his lips form into a pout, nodding softly at his professor’s words.

“Does that mean… I’m gonna get a bad grade on my final assignment?” Jisung asks, lost.

Sighing, Mr Kim shakes his head and gazes at his student with eyes like an endless pool of honesty. “I want you to hand in something else. Don’t worry about getting in the deadlines, I’ll wait for you and grade this at the end of the semester. All I want is for you to write a story that means something to you. Don’t worry about the prompt, even, if that’s what’s making you feel limited. Just make me believe what you’re writing, Jisung.”

Nodding, Jisung finally understands the whole point of what his professor is telling him. Truth be told, Mr Kim is right– he does not care a bit about the story he wrote. While he can admit that he did a good job on it, he did well at writing about ghosts– the prompt for this semester’s final work (they focused on horror and mystery in literature this year)– he is ready to throw the papers into his drawer and never think of them again, for he just wrote what he was supposed to without giving it any minor significance. He might have described the emotions of the characters well, he might have used pretty words and astonishing abbreviations, but at the end of the day, if someone asked him how much the story he wrote means to him, he’d tell them that it mattered to him no more than a homework he had to complete.

“I understand, Mr Kim. I’ll… I’ll try again,” he says, nodding.

He’s rewarded by a gentle smile coming from his mentor, an expression full of understatement and honest care for his student. Taking a step back from him and leaning on the desk, the professor hints that he can go now, offering him one last sentence of condolence before he sets him out of the classroom.

“I’d hate for your talent to go to waste, Jisung.”

Smiling, although a little tight-lipped, the boy slowly walks to the door, nodding one last time before he leaves. “I’ll try not to disappoint, sir.”

The halls of the university are dark due to the stormy clouds shielding the sun from offering the light to the world. Sighing and checking the time on his phone, Jisung notices that he missed his last tram and the only way he can get home now is to jog through the pouring rain. Opening the glass door of the university building, grunting as he puts the hood of his jacket over his head, he runs through the falling raindrops, still thinking of the words his professor told him in the classroom just a few minutes ago.

Not looking in front of him as he runs, his body bumps into someone, making him utter honest, yet quick apologies as he jogs off after making sure the person is okay and didn’t drop anything, hating the way wet clothing sticks to his skin, making him feel almost a little claustrophobic. In the frantic hurry to get home as soon as possible, the boy doesn’t notice he dropped something on the floor–

the papers containing the latest story he wrote for the final assignment of his Creative writing class. Sitting in a puddle, somewhere in the middle of the street, the letters wash away with the afternoon rain, metaphorically erasing everything he wrote and didn’t care about in the past, moving him forward into a new direction.

Still, he looks behind his shoulder, ready to collect them from the ground just in case he might need them for something in the future, only to find the back of the person he just bumped into running away, a stack of white, water-stained A4 papers in their hands. Their walk is all too familiar to Jisung, the back of their head reminding him of something he’s experienced in the past, the sway of their hips and the jolt in their step making warmth erupt in his stomach at the fond memory that makes itself creep back into the boy’s head.

“It can’t be…” he mumbles.

The thought still fresh in his brain, the speculations making thoughts run around his mind faster than the speed of light, he opens up another Word document on his laptop as soon as he takes off his shoes in his mother’s new apartment, fingertips on fire. To write about something he cares for? Putting his everything into words that would mean something to him? It doesn’t seem as difficult right now.

Ghosts. The topic he found difficult to write about, for he’s never experienced anything paranormal before. He only tried to mimic everything he’s read about.

If anyone asked Park Jisung if he believed in ghosts, he’d tell them yes, however– for he has seen longing grow legs and follow him.

To write something he cares about, he decides– he’ll write about you.

He’ll write about the summer that even now, after so many months, feels like a dream.

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