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taintedcigs · 9 months ago

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— late night blues

pairing: roommate bsf!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you can’t seem to sleep, so eddie offers to drive you around, but you have something else in mind that can make you relax and help you fall asleep faster; his fingers. (wc: 3.1k+)

author's note: not proofread. entirely self-indulgent. and normally i would gaf about interactions but i literally dont rn. i needed this <3 and for all my insomniacs out there... i appreciate u and i am u. hope this is like a warm/horny hug to all of u as much as it is to me. bc i need it desperately. the ending is kinda rushed i am so v sorry. pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Hogging the blanket you sank deeper into the couch, the light illuminating from the TV screen enough to have you squinting, but never enough to lull you into sleep.

You huff, impatiently, trying to shut off the voices in your head, thoughts swirling around everywhere and anywhere, making it impossible to let you embrace the sweet sleep you so desperately need.

"Why are you awake?" A low groan of Eddie's voice almost startles you, slight gasp leaving your lips, making you sit up straight with a deep breath.

"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, "didn't wanna wake you."

"Should've," he grumbles, stomping on his way next to you, "y'know I can't sleep knowing you're awake, right?" A lazy smile is placed on his lips when he slouches right next to you.

The couch sinks with the impact and so does your stomach, the implications of his words not going unnoticed, the two of you have always been close, too fucking close to being considered as just friends.

Yet, none of you ever made any effort.

And you were growing tired of it, because, shit, did you like him. And a part of you, as well as everyone else in the gang kept teasing you about, told you he liked you too. Just waiting to be pushed.

"Wanna smoke?" He asked with a hum, "might help you sleep better." The brunette placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, another act the two of you always did, affectionate, too affectionate to be just friends, yet none of you ever dwelled on it, despite it leaving your entire body on fire in its wake, and Eddie's stomach churn with delight as you always smiled up at him. Sweet, almost peaceful, making you nod quietly, looking so fatigued that his chest ached for you.

"Was t'tired... couldn't roll one." You point toward the mess on the coffee table, grinder open with strains stuck in it, crumpled-up rolling papers, and a bunch of filters sprawled everywhere.

"How about we take a drive, princess?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the pad of his thumb slowly circling your face, tender and making you melt into him.

You shake your head quickly, not wanting to bother him in any way. "Eds, it's too late, I don't want you to-"

But he's quick to scoff. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Eddie, I mean it, we can just smoke this here and-" He tuts you quickly, already getting up, his Garfield sweatpants fully in view, making you giggle.

He takes your hand in his, dragging you while you huff and puff. "Grab a jacket or one of my hoodies, and let's fuckin' roll, honey."

Once you throw over one of his oversized hoodies, he almost carries you to the car, not wanting you to lose that sleepy state, knowing that it'd be hard for you to get it back.

You buckle your seatbelt, just watching him in his groove, head falling into the headrest as you admire him rolling a joint so quickly that it makes your head spin. "How the fuck can you do that?" You groan, "'s not fair." A pout overtakes your lips, causing him to grin. He wants to kiss it away, yet all he does is tuck the strands of your hair that are covering your features, turning your lips into a mellow smile, matching his.

"Well it helps if you were a dealer in high school." He rambles, a hearty giggle escaping from your lips, "I'll teach you some time too, honey, promise." You nod in acceptance, and another kiss is planted on your forehead, one you happily accept, let his warmth overtake your skin, eyes glazy and lidded as you look up at him, sleep deprivation so apparent in your face that it tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, seeing you this miserable. And not being able to do anything about it. Yet.

Quickly retrieving the lighter from his back pocket, he places the rollie on his lips, letting the igniting flame heat it quickly, sizzling sound as he inhales a small huff before passing it onto you calming you further.

You suck on it with a hum, watching the way Eddie quickly turns on the ignition, windows rolled down, the same relaxing tape playing over and over again, volume dimmed, Good Feeling by Violet Femmes serves as a background drop, one of your favorite songs, and of course, Eddie knows it.

The velvety dark sky steals your attention as you once again suck on the fragrant joint gently cradled between your fingers. Letting it engulf and numb you, for your bloodshot eyes to have a reason other than being restless.

A gentle breeze whispers through the cranked windows, rustling your hair in front of your face, making you giggle lightly. Three puffs, and you are already feeling giddy, "not too strong is it?" he asks, glancing at you with the biggest grin on his face, amber hues watching you intently.

"Nuh-uh," you hum, and his hand tenderly droops down to your thighs, giving you three gentle squeezes as a form of comfort. At least, he intends it to be for comfort.

But all you can think about is how thick and warm his fingertips are, cladded rings bringing a coldness that makes you hiss, tummy doing a flip as your hazy mind craves more.

It is the last piece of the puzzle you need to finally fall into that deep slumber, Eddie making you cum on his long fingers, curling inside of you, rings slicked with your juices, it's all you can think about.

You whine at your thoughts, throat growing dry at them, not knowing if it is cotton mouth or how stunning Eddie looks while focused on the road.

The perfect side profile that you can't help but admire; chiseled jaw with the slightest stubble that you'd do anything to have it rubbing against your clit right about now, Adam's apple bobbing slightly the more he gulped, lips plushy and so soft that you wanted nothing more than to bite into them, have them suckling your neck.

Fuck, this could be it, couldn't it?

You were already a bit dizzy, giving you enough courage to ask him to, and if he rejected you, you could always just turn it into a joke, couldn't you?

You rasp a desperate breath when his hands squeeze your thigh again, prominent veins making you mewl. His head cocks towards you in worry at the sound, "you okay?"

You barely register his words, gaze too focused on the tempting hold he has on you, "hmm?"

He quirks a brow, a smirk playing on his lips when he realizes how hazed you are, "are you hungry or something, sweetheart?"

Yeah, you were. Hungry for him.

You shake your head slightly. "You sure?" He asks, more attentive, and you can feel your wetness pool around your thighs, slicking you.

"Mhmm," you reply, head turning to meet his gaze, and when he slightly tilts his head, his shaggy bangs fall onto his forehead, making you gulp physically, he looks beautiful.

"Do you want anything?"

If he was any more attentive, you were going to crawl into his lap and grind on his bulge that hugged the print of Garfield on his sweatpants, "Nope," you gulped, prying your eyes away from the outline of his huge cock forcefully.

"Need anything?"

"You." The words slipped past your lips without any interference from you, it's like your subconscious was doing all the talking you had been so afraid of.

The insomnia and weed becoming a dangerous combo.

He choked out a laugh, cheeks crimson red, spreading across his bone like crushed raspberries. "Hah, funny aren't ya?"

He avoided your gaze, yet your head snapped to meet his. "Eddie- I-I mean it."

"Sweetheart," he mumbled, a low groan awaiting in his throat.

Doe-eyed, melting, and pleading hues finally met his. "P-please, Eddie, need it so bad, need to cum, relax," you coaxed, hand placed on his, squeezing it back, causing a drawl of sigh out of him.

He can't bring himself to ease into your touch, his lips quivering at the thought of finding you soaking for him, "Honey, you're high," he tries to reason, voice squeaky pitch, he wants it, so goddamn bad, but he can't take advantage of you in any way.

You huff, disagreeingly. "Oh, c'mon, Eddie, I just took like three huffs, you know I'm not a lightweight!"

"Sweetheart, I know but it doesn't feel right-"

"But I'm begging you to!" Your pleading voice crushes him, cock stirring just at your squeaky tone, you're going to be the fucking death of him.

"Y-you have no idea how fucking stupid I feel for turning you down when all I want to-" He sighed. "I don't wanna do anything that you might regret."

You huff at that, does he not realize how desperately you want him? How badly you have wanted him all this time?

"Fuck, Eddie, just-" Fingertips graze his once you grab his rough hands, they are powerless in your hold, and you're quick to dip them down your pajamas, rubbing them against your cotton panties that are now entirely soaked with your juices. "Do you feel that?" Your voice is shaky, and low groans rumble in his chest, his focus on the road becoming dizzy.

It feels surreal, you begging for him, for his fingers, how wet your panties feel just because of him. His brain can't comprehend a thought, your name slipping past his lips like prayers.

He can't help but press his hand further against your panties, just to feel more of you, cock straining against his own cage of boxers, knuckles white from the harsh grip he has on the steering wheel.

And you can see the desperation in his eyes, spurring you more and more. "How fucking wet I am just because you squeezed my thigh? Do you think I'd regret anything when I'm this soaked for you?"

He can't help it, roaring the engine again before he abruptly comes to a stop on the side of the road, his mind too dizzy to comprehend anyfuckingthing. "Fucking christ, baby, I-"

You interrupt him again, head lulling to his side, giving him those desperate, lewd eyes again. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, Eddie, p-please, you said you'd help me sleep... relax, I'm more than okay with it."

You know he's on the verge of caving in, he wants this as much as you do. "Angel..." he mumbles, tone so pornographically lustful that you feel the need to show him how much you want him.

You shove his hands inside of your panties in frustration, and he groans lightly at it, fingertips run up and down your slit, never entering your hole, taking his time to fully feel how badly you want him.

He collects your wetness at the tip of his digits, smearing them over the hood of your clit, earning a shallow gasp from you, just enough to break him, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, you're soaked," he grunts, eyes watching you hungrily.

"Mhmm, all for you," you hum, head thrown comfortably into the headrest, eyes lulling. He runs his fingertips over your sides, teasing, covering you in your juices, and all you can do is mewl for him.

A digit slips inside of you easily, making you moan so loud that Eddie's cock aches in the confinements of his sweats, admiring the way your mouth gapes at how good his fingers feel. "God, you're perfect like this, princess," he hums, fingertips circling around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to get you worked up.

It makes you whimper pathetically, turns out Eddie really does know you. So much so that all you want to do is cum on his thick fingers, have him take you home, make you bounce on his cock again and again.

He pushes another finger inside of you, watching the way your cunt takes his fingers all greedily. You're the one who's supposed to be high, yet he feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy that he can barely comprehend it.

This is all real, you just begged him to finger you, and now you're mewling on his fingers, pussy throbbing as he stretches you out slowly.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, listening to the sweet sounds of your whimpers, "doin' so good f'me," his praises drive you even crazier, and loud moans escape from your parted lips the more his thumb circles around your clit.

"So greedy, hmm?" He coos condescendingly, relishing in the pretty faces you make, his ring finger joining inside of your soppy cunt easily, "E-Eddie," you mumble, lost in him, fully.

His fingers pump in and out of you at a rough pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge, he can feel your cunt squeezing his ringed fingers desperately.

"You close, angel?" He grunts, and a sheen of heat creeps its way across your chest and up your throat at how good he is, all you can do is nod pathetically, too dizzy and too lost in his fingers to even speak.

You take your plump bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stiffle your pathetic moans, but once he adds another finger, cold rings brushing against your clit, you can't help yourself.

"E-Eddie, fuck!" You moan, and he watches in awe, keeps his praises up, eager to see what you look like when you cum. He knows you'll be even prettier, screaming out his name, soaking his fingers in your pretty juices.

Your chest heaves with how much you're feeling him, stuffed full of his fingers, you can't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. Shit, maybe next time.

You pathetically rut your hips into his fingers, and he groans so filthily that your body feels frail, "That's it, baby," he praises. "Use me, honey, use my fingers to get yourself off."

Your face contorts with the sweetest pain and pleasure, his fingers plunged deep inside of you, padded thumb still continuing it's circles. Once his fingers curl inside of you, you know you’re a fucking goner.

Each of his movements, his touch, ignites a fire within you that is heightened by the weed, you are so desperate to cum that you don't even realize how pathetically you've been soaking his fingers, so wet and Eddie relishes in it.

"Oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You moan out once you feel that dizzying pleasure bubbling in your chest, he can feel your pussy flutter around his thick fingers, making his chest swell with pride. "Mhmm, just like that, darlin', cum on my fingers."

It's all the confirmation you need before you cry out his name again, back arching as pleasure explodes inside of your stomach, vision growing white and dizzy. Your fucked out face, pathetic moans, and your gaping mouth making Eddie's cock strain tighter and tighter, as if that’s even possible.

His fingers don't leave your soppy cunt until he makes sure you ride your orgasm out, relishing in the pretty expressions your face contorts to as you fall apart for him.

Bringing a stupid wide grin to his face that has you feeling giddier. The weight of what the two of you did doesn't dawn yet, you're too tired, too fucked out to care, and all Eddie can think about is going back to the trailer and rubbing one out while thinking about the pretty sounds you made, the pretty shapes your face took as you came on his fingers. His.

He'll think about how pretty your eyes look rolled all the way back inside of your head when he's slamming into you, cock stuffed inside of you, parted lips repeating his name like a fucking prayer. Your tight cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him dry.

With a groan, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking clean the remains of you, pathetically groaning at how sweet you taste. You watch him with lulled eyes, breath growing heavier, and if you weren’t about to pass out, you’d beg him for more, have his hard cock stuffed inside of you.

“Tastes so goddamn sweet,” he grunts, licking any taste of you left off his lips, your sweet juices engrained in his tastebuds.

You blink quickly to process all of it, mind numbed out. Fuck, he’s making this so goddamn hard for you.

“E—Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving as a shy smile appears on your lips, mind hazy as you try to form words. "T-that was amazing, shit."

"Yeah?" He beams, the praise is all he needs. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes glimmered at his words, air between the two of you was charged with a sweet tension. Breaths almost synchronized with the way both of your chests rose and fell on the rhythm of what just fucking happened. And all the feelings that led up to it.

You wanted to talk about it, take this further, maybe even continue back home.

But sleep began to settle inside of you, eyelids betrayed your pent-up feelings for him, already drooping in surrender.

And of course, Eddie knew by the sheepish smile you gave him, you were almost on the brink of sleep, and it was more important than his stupid feelings because the two of you had all the time in the world to talk about... whatever this was, tomorrow.

But if you lost your sleepy state, he knew you'd never get it back, “You sleepy yet?" He asked, thoughtful, caring gaze watching you intently, making you nod.

"Mhmm," you hummed, "But, Eddie..."

"Yeah?" He prompted, eager to soak up each and every one of your words.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing," you admitted, shyly, your heart leaping out of your chest in excitement.

"Thank fucking God." Slipped past his lips unintentionally, causing a hearty giggle to bubble up within you, easing away all of your worries.

Pools of warmth swam in his gaze, fully melting into you. "Me neither, sweetheart," he whispered, starting the car again, engine humming to life.

He met you with a saccharine smile. "But we have all the time to talk about that tomorrow, promise."

It hung in the air, the promise, almost like a warm hug engulfing you. All the confirmation you need.

"You just go to sleep, now, honey, I'll carry you inside," he urged, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead.

"T-thank you," you hummed, resting your head comfortably, deep slumber not taking long to find you while he watched intently, mind still running with thoughts of you.

Both of you had no clue what would happen with this; yet, you were now sure that this wouldn't remain as a one-time thing.

After all, you had a hard time sleeping almost every night, thankfully, you would now have Eddie to fix that.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fics #eddie munson oneshot

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sweethischier · 8 months ago

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‘𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝’ - 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫

word count: 0.8k

summary: you do the ‘call your boyfriend your husband and get his reaction’ trend.

warnings: none! short and sweet. mostly dialogue. it's just cute!

You were scrolling through Tiktok as Nico watched whatever film he needed to for their upcoming game when you got the idea. The trend had appeared a few times on your for you page already, and the thought popped into your head each time, but you were always at work and by the time you got home, you’d forgotten about it. It was harmless and simple, but it was also cute and fun.

You turned your phone off and left it on the coffee table as you approached Nico from behind, wrapping your arms around his front as you leaned on him. He lifted one of his hands to rub the skin of your arm as he turned towards you and gave you a lazy smile. You delicately pressed your lips to his own for a fleeting moment before you pulled away.

“Can we go to that coffee shop down the street,” You ask, your lips turning upwards, “They got a few new drinks I want to try with you!”

Nico couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched your face light up with excitement, but he was quick to agree. The two of you are on your way to the local shop down the road after Nico had paused his game and the both of you slipped on your shoes. He always let you pick the music when you were riding in the car with him, but you always slipped in songs you noticed he’d been listening to recently and it always made him smile. When you had gotten the drinks, one for each of you, you sat back in the car and tried to set your phone up to film.

“What are you doing,” Nico shakes his head as your phone falls for the third time. He picks it up from his floor board and manages to balance it on his dashboard with the help of a half-drunk water bottle.

“Videoing,” You playfully roll your eyes, “I’m going to post it for this trend that I saw!”

“Okay, schatzi,” He laughs before he relaxes in his seat, watching as you reach for your phone to press the red record button.

“Okay, so my husband and I are going to be trying these new drinks from a little coffee shop in the city,” You begin, doing your best to keep your focus on the screen and your face neutral, but the way the word flows so naturally off your tongue makes you blush.

The use of the word ‘husband’ catches Nico off guard, but he quickly recovers and he can’t stop the smile from forming on his face. He’s only looking at you as you continue talking for a little bit, his eyes wide and adoration. He doesn’t care if it was a simple slip of the tongue, it makes warmth spread in his chest all the same when the word tumbled from your lips.

“First we have the cinnamon bun frappe, so my husband is going to try it and let us know what he thinks,” You grin as you take the cup from its holder and turn to Nico, “It’s not what he usually gets because he thinks it’s too sweet, but he’s going to try it for us right?”

He has a flustered look on his face, his cheeks red and eyes crinkled as he takes the drink from your hands, “Yeah, of course I am.”

He glances away from you and takes a small drink from the straw, his features slightly scrunching from the sweetness of the drink. He lets his gaze flicker over to you and he does his best to look like he enjoyed the sugary drink you mistook for a coffee, but he failed miserably. You giggled as you watched him forcefully swallow the small sip he had taken before looking back at your phone.

“Okay, so that one is not husband approved,” You point out as you let out a small laugh, listening to the way Nico shuffles in his seat so his body is angled towards you.

“Are you saying that on purpose,” He asks, raising his brows when you catch his eye.

“Saying what,” You feign confusion, slightly tilting your head as you bite back a smile of your own.

“Husband,” He smugly smiles as he leans over the center console, “I’m not complaining. I love it actually.”

You watch as he gets closer to you, your body instinctively leaning towards his own like he was your own gravitational pull. His eyes briefly flicker down to your lips as the two of you wait for the other to diminish the small distance between you. You let out a sigh as he reaches a hand over to cup the back of your head, his thumb massaging your scalp.

“Do you really,” You whisper, nudging his nose with your own as you ghost your lips over his.

“Yeah, I really do. Can’t wait until it’s reality one day.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nico hischier blurb #new jersey devils

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heich0e · 2 months ago

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"I find you exasperating."

You go out of your way to step on a particularly dry looking leaf along the path—stained a deep, golden colour and curling at the edges where it rests waiting for the weight of your foot—just to hear the way it crunches beneath the sole of your shoe. At your side, Kakashi's attention is still on the book in his hand, the pages spread open only with his thumb and pinkie finger while the other three support the cracked spine. He doesn't spare you a glance, but he does deign to respond with a curious little hum.

"That's an awfully big word."

The lazy way he says it is enough to irritate you, but his condescending words are almost too much for you to bear. You stop in your tracks, fists curled tightly at your sides, and the white haired young man doesn't so much as slow in recognition of it.

It's fall in Konoha, and while the days are still warm and bright, the breeze that whisks through the village's winding streets is cool. The annoyance you feel prickling under your skin is enough to insulate you from the chill. To numb you to its bite.

You swoop down, dragging your hand lightly along the path to retrieve a handful of small, smooth stones—no larger than the tips of your fingers. Without a moment's contemplation, you launch one at the back of Kakashi's head, and watch as it bounces off dully.

He keeps walking.

"Irksome."

Another pebble hits the ground after ricocheting off the back of his headband.

"Vexatious."

The next makes contact with his right shoulderblade.

"Antagonistic."

He catches this one—just like he could have caught any of the previous three—without even turning around to watch you throw it. His hand, the one not holding his book, shoots up to protect his ear before the pebble can make contact. He holds it pinched between his thumb and forefinger for a moment, still leisurely walking away from you, before he flicks it to the ground.

"You're being so childish today," Kakashi calls back over his shoulder. "Are you sure I'm the antagonist here?"

You hear it then, the smile in his voice, and even though it would only serve to legitimize his accusation it almost makes you stomp your foot petulantly.

"Kakashi!"

Finally, he turns to face you, and even though his mask conceals most of his expression, you can tell it's hiding a grin beneath it. He tilts his head to the side, as though waiting for you to continue.

"How many times have you read that stupid book?"

The familiar novel is closed now, and his page marked, though you're not entirely certain when he did either of those things. He glances at the paperback, as though considering it carefully.

"How many times am I allowed to admit to before you call me a pervert?" he asks.

"You are a pervert," you answer, immediate and sure, while slowly walking towards him to close the gap he put between the two of you. "And you would be even if you were illiterate."

"That's not very nice of you to say," he says, tipping his head back and sighing profoundly as though your insult caused him great pain.

"It's the truth, though."

Kakashi peeks down at you from the corner of his eye as you stand by his side. Without thinking, you reach out and grab the sleeve of his jacket, averting your gaze.

It's quiet for a moment. Just the two of you, the fall breeze, the scattered pebbles, and that atrocious romance book.

"You've been gone for a month," your voice is quiet when you finally speak again. So soft it risks being carried away with the wind.

Kakashi didn't even tell you he was leaving before he was sent off on this last mission; you had to find out from another shinobi the next morning, and all they could tell you was he was gone and they weren't sure when he'd be back.

This isn't unusual with Kakashi. It's happened more times than you care to count. Missions that force him to leave the village at short notice are unavoidable—assignments like that to be expected for any shinobi, but particularly for one of Kakashi's rank.

It doesn't make it any easier.

You've thought about bringing this up to him before. Thought about asking him to tell you when these sorts of things come up. Thought about explaining to him how awful it feels to be the last to know. Thought about telling him what those long days apart feel like in this village without him.

But you don't.

Part of it is pride, you think. You're too stubborn to be the one to show your hand like that. To be vulnerable in front of him in such a mortifying, humbling way. Somehow the mere idea of making any of those admissions seems more embarrassing than trailing along behind him tossing rocks at the back of his head.

Another part is fear. You don't want to be the one to speak this thing between the two of you into existence. To give it shape. To breathe life into it by giving it a name. You and Kakashi have always lived in intentional ambiguity. A certain uncertainty. You're not quite friends, you're not quite lovers, you're not quite anything at all.

You're just the one who's left waiting for him to come home.

And then there's the last part—the biggest part—that holds you back. The part you don't quite know how to explain. The part that tells you to bear the pain of missing him, to swallow down your longing, for his sake if not your own. The last thing Kakashi needs is the burden of knowing his duty makes you ache while he's away. That his absence keeps you awake at night. He's got enough he needs to shoulder without you adding to the weight, and this is the least you can do to try and help him carry it.

You let his sleeve slip from your grasp.

"Sorry," you mutter under your breath, shaking yourself from your momentary stupor.

"Are you acting out because I haven't given you enough attention?" Kakashi asks, only his voice is different now than it was a moment prior. Sincere in a way that upsets you more than when he's being intentionally annoying.

You finally bring yourself to look at him, but only to shoot him a narrow-eyed glare.

His own gaze is disarmingly soft when you meet it. Unexpectedly tender. Perceptive in ways you usually choose to overlook.

So much so, in fact, that you're too stunned to even flinch when he taps his book against your forehead.

"Ok, ok," he says with a shrug, spinning on his heel and continuing on down the path at an idle pace, leaving you dumbfounded in his wake. "If you wanted to borrow it, you could've just asked!"

#kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #naruto writing #naruto drabble #writing

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willowser · 11 months ago

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"i ain't takin' a fuckin' bath."

katsuki's half-undressed, standing in the kitchen with the fridge doors wide open; shirtless, shoulders broad and muscles round and taut, cool air raising goosebumps across his exposed skin. his un-buttoned tac pants are dangerously low on his hips, so low that you wonder—while staring at the dimples of his back—if he's doing it on purpose.

the dewy sheen of sweat he'd come home with has gone matte, leaving him in a thin, sticky, grimy layer that is grimace-inducing to feel. like most nights, dirt and soot and even blood—grown dark and less worrisome with time—color him haphazardly, strewn across his body; a mosaic of dynamight, made by his own hands.

"but you stink," you fail to suppress a smile when he snaps his head around, to fix you with an ugly look that you return. he manages to hide his own amusement in the bulge of his bicep. "i'm serious! a bath will help you relax!"

turning back to the open fridge, he grumbles, "i am relaxed," in a tone that doesn't sound relaxed. at all.

"come on," you urge, shuffling up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist despite all his dried grease and muck. "you go first and i'll be there in a minute."

that catches his attention enough that he finally closes the doors, facing you as he runs a lazy hand over his stomach. to his credit, he does look a bit more relaxed than he had when he'd come through the door—but the set of his jaw is still too stern, brow only ever furrowed, a little more argumentative than usual, even if it's harmless.

katsuki seems to consider your unspoken proposition, before finally surrendering with a roll of his eyes. "fine, but i'm takin' a shower like a grown ass man."

"no!" you groan, latching onto his arm when he moves to step around you. you try to dig your heels into the ground, but you're in the kitchen in socks, and katsuki only yanks you after him with a wicked grin. "bath! a bath will help you relax, i mean it! i've got lavender oils!"

"i ain't using' your frilly shit!"

he finally slips from you when you sputter out a laugh, tugging free from your grip before throwing you a look that is hot in more ways than one. innocent as you aimed to be, something tightens in your stomach; awakened at the sight of him.

you warn, "i'm only coming if you're in the bath!" and his loud, exaggerated groan echoes nearly throughout your entire house, swallowing up your chirpy laugh.

—but, much to your surprise, he listens.

you let him soak for a good five minutes before following after, and when you find him, he's got his head leaned back over the edge, elbows resting on either side of the tub, legs bent and knees sticking up out of the water. handsome as ever, you think, a little dreamy, before the marble of him shifts at your arrival.

he only opens one eye, and you can see already the tension has drained from his face; half-asleep, a little bloodshot and breathing too even to convince you otherwise.

"well, well, well," you murmur, lowering to the floor on your knees after his eye slips shut again. "look at you, princess."

katsuki makes a haughty noise of irritation, but doesn't bite back: a dead giveaway of his exhaustion. instead his hand finds the material of your shirt, tugging on it lightly before he slurs out, "get y'r ass in the tub."

you'd bite his fingers if they weren't still disgusting, but you place a teeny kiss on the cleanest spot you can see on his wrist. "i don't need a bath, but thanks."

"hah?" he grunts, eye shooting open again as he frowns at you. when you only smile coyly at him, he raises his head and glares at you properly. "y'dirty liar, you said—"

"i said i'd be right behind you," you grin. "not that i'd be getting in."

the water sloshes up against the sides as he straightens his posture, baring his teeth at you as he prepares, you think, to lunge out and haul you in with him despite a screaming protest—but you reach forward just before he can, dipping a hand down into the warmth right between his thighs.

katsuki jumps, seriously, leg kicking out so hard that his heel slams into the edge of the tub, when you gently hold him where he's soft. "jesus!" he all but yelps, eyes going a little wide as he realizes what you've done. what you've made of him.

he's still—marble-still—air sucking in sharply between his parted, frozen lips as you touch him, and heat pools so obviously, so suddenly, in his cheeks, sweet enough that you want to bite into the apples of them. in your hand he swells thick, quickly, a little slippery from the soap he's already added to the water.

all his tension returns, as a different strain; katsuki swallows, hard, as his eyes dart back and forth between your own and where your hand disappears into the water; when you gently rub your thumb back and forth across the tip of him, his back straightens, even moreso, and, you don't think he knows it, but his legs part even further.

an invitation if you'd ever seen one.

he finally comes back to life when you lean in close enough to nudge your nose to his, just to see him blink.

he's so cute, you want to eat him alive.

"the f-fuck are y'doin'?" he whispers, eyes dropping back down as you stroke him lightly, just enough to coil him tighter. at the end of the tub, water sloshes quietly from the movement, and katsuki's ears burn.

you've caught him entirely off guard, and if it wasn't clear before, it becomes crystalline when you kiss him, deeply. he's lazy to reciprocate, breathing softly, open-mouthed, as you press a soft kiss to his top lip and then to his bottom, whispering his name back to him just to hear his sharp inhale.

you time a clever stroke of your wrist with the firm press of your mouth to his, insistent and fast, urging the wildness of him to catch up, to come out. it hits him all at once—your desire, his own, the heat of it all—and his hand shoots out of the water to grip the back of your neck, a deep groan slipping from his chest as his cock kicks in your hand.

you try more than once to pull back from him with a sneaky little laugh, but his fingers tangle in your hair and he kisses your teeth and you think, maybe, you're not teasing him enough. his knees knock lightly against the ceramic as he tries to spread them, even further, and his hips shift up with every slick pump of your fist, urgent and eager.

he speaks, furiously, against your lips, when you snatch your hand away, instead teasing your fingers along the inside of his thigh. "get—in th'fuckin' tub." his shoulders tremble, ever so slightly. "i ain't askin' again."

you laugh against him and his nostrils flare. "you didn't ask at all!"

"so quit your bullshit already."

you lick his bottom lip, nipping at the fat of it gently before weaving your own hand into his damp hair. "no," you tease, like a brat, but when you tug enough at the strands, he gets the hint and allows you to pull away. "i'm trying to help you relax, you know?"

katsuki doesn't respond at first, only huffing out a frustrated sound when you wrap your hand around his length again. his face is steaming, despite how firm he's trying to be; your own desire strikes hot when his head tips back just slightly, jaw straining as he grits his teeth.

"no," he finally grunts, eyes dark and pinned to you. "'s'the last thing i feel, is-is relaxed."

"hmm," you make a point to frown and look away, like you're thinking, but katsuki's impatience wins out and he drags you back in for a shuddering kiss. he's fervent, now, nipping at your lip and brushing his tongue against your own eagerly, trying to muffle a painful sound against your cheek. "that's too bad," you tell him—but you don't think he hears you, really, over his low curse and the returning slosh of water against the tub.

but when you ask him again, only a handful of minutes later—his boneless answer is precisely what you were looking for.

#tw dirty LOL #heheheh #idk what this is it literally just popped into my head out of nowhere sorry !!!#he's such a gross dirty boy ew #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: domestic bakugou

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popponn · 10 months ago

Note

idk if you accept requests but i badly want to read the blue lock boys with the orange peel theory going around on tiktok 🥹

notes: anon, i was in a slump and then you come with this, please know i cant get it out of my mine for 2 whole nights. so, please have this, i hope u will enjoy it & your fave is there. also shoutout to @doobea for helping me with rin & barou esp <3 aso for standing my yappings. warning: none, post canon au in mind, reader's gender unspecified.

character: isagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin, sae, barou + bonus

isagi

sweet boy will do it with a smile. is not the tidiest but you can now eat your orange while sharing with him. has a vibe that he is sort of used to doing this somehow. a total win still. if you do the same for him he will get flustered. also asking this is one of the quickest ways to get mr. egoist switches to mr. sweetheart boyfriend.

“Eh, why are peeling one too? I already… for me…?…I, uh—I see. Thanks… I—I am… give me a second.”

kaiser

you are the one who will peel for him—unless you throw a fuss and give him a silent treatment because this guy's pride is no joke. he can, he just doesn't want to. but to appease you and gain back his rightful spoiling, he will. afterward, at least, he learns his lesson and when you are about to peel one yourself, will take it and peel it beautifully for you like a second nature.

“…the fuck are you staring at? Just take it. You are about to eat it anyway, right? Then what's the big deal?”

bachira

yes, he will no question asked but is it worth it. probably will make a mess out of his energy. you will be laughing along with him somehow though so it is worth it. having the sunshine doing anything in front of you is a guaranteed smile-inducing routine. as for the orange, please do switch to other alternatives, for example: kisses, as suggested by him.

“Isn't this better than orange? Huum, huum! More healthy, sweeter too, right? Another one?”

chigiri

depending on his mood, you will either get a very cute orange peel or a half-peeled orange (at best) you have to finish peeling yourself. on the former, you get a smug bf who will feed you like it's a pocky stick. on the latter, you better be the one feeding him while hugging and cuddling him. multitask somehow. also, give him kisses because he is called a ‘princess’ for a reason.

“Ah, being in your arms being fed like this… yeah, yeah. I know don't worry. I will repay the favor.”

nagi

realistically, you will be the one peeling it for him and forcing him to eat one. because why would he even touch one? he is too lazy for that, nothing personal. but, let's say he really, really loves you: he still won't, he will just give you orange-flavored jelly in replacement. it does come from a place of love though, he genuinely thinks it's less troublesome to eat and, hence: better.

“Eating that is troublesome. It taste the same too. We can also do it while kissing. Mouth to mouth. Better right?”

reo

normally, will get a servant to peel it for you and him. though: can he do it? will he do it if it must be him? no question asked, absolutely will, all while chatting and staring at you with so much love. totally mr. k-drama male lead. you and your premium orange are in good hands.

“Oh, man, you are sometimes really …huh? Nah, I mean, I like doing this. It's just now I feel like I have to do this every time, so… yeah.”

rin

the first time, he will click his tongue and mess up. he will crush the orange. better never speak of it again, just know he loves you wholly despite everything. then a week passes and suddenly you will get a professional competitive orange peeler part-timer. without asking. just eat your orange. unless you are sick of it or it makes you actually sick.

“Did the orange taste good? … good. Nothing. You just look… nevermind. Do you want another one?”

sae

will he or will you. realistically, no? there are two possible reasons: 1) he can't. his whole stat is in soccer. 2) “you can't?” aka is it worth it getting judged by him. in case #2 though, just act cute and aim for his soft spot for you, he will fold and peel it with you pressed to his arm. he will grumble or glare but that's just itoshi-esque tsundere.

“You can't do something like this yourself? This will be the only time I’m doing this… Also who told you to move away?”

barou

our king. will peel the skin and the white fiber for you. tidy peels and if you know your way around his heart—you do just smile or blink and he is gone—he will also feed you. 10/10 execution no notes. probably will do this in kotatsu, dinner tables, and other domestic settings that are not bed while being a tsundere.

“I’m doing this just so you don't make a mess, got it? Also, scoot closer, your leg is kicking me—what do you mean I’m lying?!”

bonus

kunigami will, both before and after wc because you are his world. the difference would be in his expression only and there is that because his love for you would never change. shidou will but genuinely, please just peel it yourself. aiku will, not without teasing you though. gagamaru will either will or teach you how to eat the skin too. zantetsu wants to do it, but it will be really messy so please just don't. hiori will do it like a sweet boy, but if he is in his sadistic mood he will tease you for a bit before finally feeding you.

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hoshifighting · 3 months ago

Text

thoughts about jihoon obsessed with you jerking him off.

WARNINGS: smut, handjob, sex fluids (precum), fingering, jihoon have a wet cock.

you’ve had these woozi thoughts about jerking him off more times than you’d admit. it’s like a weird thrill, the kind that gets you hot under the collar, but also makes you bite your lip and think, “fuck, am i really that far gone?”

and yeah, you are.

you can see it so clear, him leaning back with that lazy grin, eyes half-lidded, just watching you with that cocky smirk because he knows what’s coming.

the way your hands wrap around him—shit, he always says your hands are softer than his. and he loves that, loves how your grip is just tight enough to make him gasp, but not too much to make it uncomfortable. it’s all in the rhythm, how you jerk him off, sometimes slow, teasing, just to watch him squirm, other times fast, just to see how he loses control, how his body reacts.

“fuck, babe… just like that,” he’d groan, his voice all rough and strained, head lolling to the side.

you love the way he looks when you’ve got him like this—pink, veiny, and absolutely desperate. the pre-cum makes everything slick, no need for lube or spit. he’s always so fucking wet, and that’s one of the things that drives you wild.

“you know you make me crazy, right?” he’d say, eyes on your tits, watching them bounce as you jerk him faster. you can’t help the way your face contorts, concentrating on getting him off, but also getting off on the sight of him losing it. the way his body tenses, the way his breathing hitches, the way he fucking moans your name like he can’t help himself.

those times when he’s too sensitive? oh, those are your favorite. when he’s moaning and whining, trying to hold on but just can’t. that’s when you know you’ve got him, really got him, and fuck, it’s so good.

“ngh… shit, y/n,” he’d groan, the sound vibrating through his chest, his whole body shaking under your touch.

it’s not like you two have had sex yet—some kind of fucked-up friends with benefits thing going on, where it’s all about the release without crossing that line. but then, sometimes he’ll finish, all breathless and satisfied, and he’ll look at you with that knowing glint in his eye.

because once, just once, you let it slip. how you always end up wet, aching, and untouched after getting him off. “seriously, what the fuck, y/n? why didn’t you say something sooner?” he’d ask, almost mad, and you’d shrug, trying to play it cool, but really, your heart’s pounding.

now, though, he’s got this thing where he makes sure you don’t leave wanting. those long fingers of his? he’s always ready to use them, sliding them deep inside you until you’re gasping his name just as desperately as he does yours.

“you’re always so fucking wet for me,” he’d whisper, his fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars.

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nnight-dances · 3 months ago

Text

ONE KISS, ONE LOVE

PAIRING: park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit

TROPES: established relationship!au, idol!wonbin, age gap vibes but no real mention, reader babies wonbin like he deserves to be, texts at the end, just sickening sweet stuff

WATCH: wonbin's night routine

NOTE: inspired by the video above! once again, these wonbin fics write themselves ... he might be my favorite boy to write rn or maybe that's just my way of coping!! anyway don't be surprised if i just start spamming u with the wonbin fics i just have too many good ideas. but they're all gonna be set in this same established relationship style, he's just so bf coded lol... anyway, enjoy <3

you've been in bed for a good twenty, clad in cream pyjamas and skincare intact, when you hear the frontdoor open – signalling your boyfriend, wonbin's arrival. you pause the video you're watching on your phone and sit up to greet him, "bin? welcome home." his heavy footsteps stop where his figure finally comes into your view.

wonbin looks wiped out, no doubt, eyes shadowed by his somnolent lashes. he stares at you for a moment before humming, the sound halfway between a thank god you're here and i could die right now. he peels his layers off with speed, black leather jacket hung up on the tree-shaped rack near your closet and his other outerwear finding its place on the small cabinet next to it.

you watch fondly as even in his fatigue, he patiently makes sure no outside clothes pollute the bed. as soon as he's in nothing but his white tee and boxers though, he jumps onto you, deflating the air out of you like a body pillow.

"hello," he mumbles, face disappearing into your chest where he snuggles closer.

"hi, love," you welcome him warmly, fingers carding through his hair as a force of habit. you breathe against his limp body, letting him unwind on top of you as he often does. it's a silent activity, a night routine of sorts for wonbin on his longest days. he'd trudge home and settle close to you, wordlessly like a cat looking for soothing.

sometimes, you talked to him about your day and he'd hum along, eyes on yours telling all you needed to hear. other times, you would go back to doing whatever you were doing – watching a show, playing a game, or talking to a friend – while he recharged. he even insisted it worked best when you were just doing your own thing.

today, you do neither. setting your phone aside, you occupy yourself with wonbin himself, first meandering through his charcoal hair and then trailing down to his neck, tracing hearts and stars into his skin. you can feel him relaxing under your touch, his face finally coming back into your vision.

"tired," wonbin says, voice coarser than ever. "need to sleep."

"i know, baby," you croon, "wanna wash up first?"

he shakes his head adamantly, "no. sleepy."

you laugh softly, "angel, i'm sure you are but you can't sleep with your makeup on, can you?"

"had a few drinks with taro hyung," he murmurs as if that explains his behavior.

"really? you had time after practice?"

"he snuck it into practice. beer after all that sweating was nice."

"wow, look at you," you muse, hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "you sound like an old man."

"i am," wonbin pouts, "let the old man go to sleep."

"sorry, love, i can't do that," you say.

"rude."

"say what you will," you sit up fully, pulling your sluggish boyfriend with you. ignoring his groans, you kiss his nose, "wash up, okay? can't have my rockstar breaking out because he was too lazy to wash his face before bed."

he groans again but this time it's an endearment, his kiss on your cheek disguising his smile. "but i can't move, y/n. please."

"i'll help you," you snake out of the sheets, squatting as you heave wonbin out as well. he stands up unwillingly, head wilting like a sad flower. you laugh, pulling him toward the washroom, "will you listen if i do all the work?"

that gets the job done alright because two minutes later, wonbin's settled against the sink with you between his legs. you crane around his tall limbs to reach for his products, having memorized his night skincare by now.

cleansing balm in hand, you carefully cover every inch of his face, the makeup turning into oil gradually. "okay, babe, now rinse your face for me."

"you said you'd do all the work!" he complains without missing a beat.

you glare at him, "i can't possibly wash your face without making a mess of both of us."

"sounds like an excuse to me."

sulking, he turns around, washing the balm off. next, you go in with his foam cleanser, gently circling his cheeks and forehead. despite all his earlier declarations, he watches you attentively, his hand loosely clasped around your waist to keep you in place. you have to scold him midway at one point when he gets cheeky and sneaks a hand down your pyjamas, feeling the hem of your panties.

eventually, you dry his face off with a hand towel. "there," you peck his cheek, "all clean."

when he doesn't let go of your waist, you raise a brow at him. "you only love me when i'm clean," he scowls, "don't you?"

you narrow your eyes at his tantrum, "i think you're forgetting how i'm sacrificing my screen time before bed to clean you up right now."

he looks unconvinced as he tails you out of the bathroom. he's about to throw himself back onto the bed when you stop him by his hand. "change first," you explain, pulling out fresh pyjamas and throwing them at him.

wonbin stands idly and it's only when he starts raising his arms up that you realize he wants you to do it. you sigh, "bin, you're such a baby today." but you smile as you pull his shirt off, disregarding the way he instantly flexes when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. slipping his pyjamas on, a piece at a time, you clap when he's done.

"i would make a great mother," you pat yourself on the back.

"you can adopt me if you want," he shrugs and you snicker, "i don't think i need to."

"you want anything to eat before you sleep?" you ask as if you hadn't quite literally brushed his teeth. "chocolate," he says without any conviction and you roll your eyes at him, watching as he launches himself at the bed.

"quick, come here," wonbin whines. you pad over to your side of the bed and join him, giggling when his body curls around you instantly. his nose finds its indent against your neck this time, cold and fresh.

for a minute, you think that's all you'll hear out of your boyfriend for the night. but it's just as you're about to reach for your phone when he speaks up again, "sorry if i'm boring."

you're not sure if your ears hear right, "what?"

but his voice is solemn, "...i'm probably kinda boring lately. so i'm sorry."

you turn on your side to face him completely, hand coming to rest against his cheek. "bin, you idiot. you coming home is the best part of my day."

"really? even though i'm too dead to do anything?" he perks up but his eyes gloomy, "we don't even fuck anymore. or go to the movies. or go out at all."

you laugh, "you're making us sound like an old couple on the verge of divorce, baby. you're just busier because of your comeback! i'm so excited and you should be, too."

"i am. but i don't want bore you."

"you don't, though. i'm lucky enough i get to see you at night and take care of you when i can. plus, it's not like you won't have more time after your promotions, right? we can do everything you want then."

wonbin blinks at you, his cool hand finally coming to meet yours where it was still caressing his cheek. he kisses your palm, "thank you. i'm glad."

"of course, love. now, go to sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow," you chirp, rolling over and shutting the lights off quickly.

"...you really would be a great mom," wonbin laughs at your behavior.

"good night, wonbin."

"good night, mom."

you hit his arm at his brazenness but when he just laughs again, the sound is too sweet for you to even pretend to be mad. so instead, you hug him closer, hand on his bicep and his legs tangled with yours.

–

bin: I AM FREE AT LAST

bin: FROM THE SHACKLES OF IT

you: …

you: how would ur fans react if i leaked our texts

you: so much for being mysterious

you: "shackles of it" boy have you ever touched a book

bin: okay so you're rude today

bin: i miss y/n mom version

you: ew?? if u have a kink i dont think this is gonna work

bin: because…?

you: is sungchan still single

bin: i was kidding! haha!

you: ok.

bin: seriously tho let's do smth fun 2nite

you: i get off work late today :(

bin: whatttt you have a life outside of me :0

you: do you WANT me to break up with you???

bin: what i meant was i will be there to pick you up <3

you: wtv man idgaf anymore

bin: noooo

bin: i'll do anything you want don't be mad

you: anything?

bin: well other than leaking our texts ofc

you: i want to live together

bin: ???

bin: we alr do

you: wonbin

you: baby

you: you just always come over to my place

bin: i sleep there it's my home wdym

you: and you still pay the bills for your place?

bin: i don't make that bag for nothing

you: ok so what if we lived together instead

bin: but i really like your place!!

you: i do too

you: let's make it our place

bin: shit

bin: i just actually blushed irl

you: :)

you: is that a yes

bin: i want to marry you

you: okay well let's calm down

bin: did u just reject me

you: i'm telling u that you're gonna regret proposing through text

bin: i love u and i want u to be my wife

bin: omg i just shed a tear at the thought of calling u that

bin: wife…. im changing ur contact name

bin: or should i change it to fiancée? since we havent yet tied the knot

you: park wonbin

you: we are 20 years old

bin: untrue

bin: im 22

you: i am not marrying you right now

bin: … is there someone else

you: i'm not marrying anyone right now

bin: ok so i'm not husband material

you: you are

bin: i'm not father material? you: no comment

you: but we aren't ready babe

you: let's take it slow k?

you: just move in first

you: we have so many memories to make

bin: you're such a flirt

you: ??? u just asked me to marry you but sure

bin: i'll be moved in by the time you come back home

you: i thought you were picking me up

bin: that was before u asked me to move in

bin: now i have to bring all my stuff over

bin: which side of your closet can i use? bin: also thoughts on letting me keep my rock collection next to your figurines?

you: right side and no

bin: wow u didnt even think about it

you: imagine we get into a fight

bin: i refuse to

you: i'm just saying i would be tempted to throw them rocks at u

bin: you would do that????

you: depending on what u do

bin: why are you expecting me to do anything at all????

you: …experience

bin: wow

you: to be loved is to be known

bin: you can't flatter me now

you: i love you

bin: …

bin: i love you too

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 4 months ago

Note

hi hello!! i love both your mer aus theyre wonderful omg

could we mayhaps have more of gaz seeing through remora readers shit and being so over it? like (if i remember correctly) he likes annoying the real her out when he feels like shes sunken too deep into the brainless lil fishy thing, but what exactly does he do? now that im actually thinking abt it i lowkey just wanna see them sass each other lmao

-- monstie >:3

pspspsps mer Gaz enjoyers @thoseofmonsters @persephone-kore-law @cod-z

47 / 1.2k

...

You peek out of the water's surface next to Gaz. He's laid out on a smooth, flat rock, sunning. You'd think he's indulging himself, but he does this all the time.

"Gaz?" you pipe up. "Aren't you drying out?"

Gaz peels an eyelid open, squinting in the sunlight as he glances over to you. The motion is lazy in the heat of the day. "Nah."

You glance up at the gulls gliding by overhead. You don't trust them. "Well... aren't you hot?"

"S'pose. Not uncomfortable, though." Gaz closes his eyes again, basking leisurely. He pats the rock next to him, offering the open space. "Sit with me."

"No, thank you."

Gaz cracks a single eye open at that, frowning. "Why not?"

You clutch the edge of the rock with nervous hands and glance over your shoulder. "There are boats over there. Humans."

"So? You like humans.”

"When they're in the water," you mutter. You eye the boats in the distance. They're small, but they're not diving boats. "But not like that."

Gaz rolls onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at you. He doesn't so much as glance in the direction you're looking. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you if that's what you're worried about."

"Don't they look at you funny? When they see you up here?"

"Maybe." He rolls onto his back again, stretches his arms overhead, arches his back, and lets out a content sigh. Then he laces his fingers behind his head. "Don’t care. I like being out here. They can ogle me as much as they want."

You notice the boats aren't coming too close, either. "They don't try to talk to you?"

"They do." The corners of Gaz’s eyes crinkle. "I ignore them. Most get the message pretty quick and steer clear.” He glances at you. “What's wrong? You're more skittish than usual.”

You grab his hand and tug it. "Come on, we need to go back to the reef now."

Gaz peers down at you over the ridge of his bicep. "Not quite yet." He closes his eyes again. "I’m comfy."

"Please?" You rummage around your brainthoughts trying to come up with a reason. "I need your help with something."

"With what something?"

"With something. And you're the only one who can do it."

"Yeah?"

"And it has to be now."

He smirks at your pitiful efforts to budge him. Your persistence is cute. "And what is this it that I have to do right this instant?"

"It's... taking me to the cliffs where the seabirds nest."

"You know how to get there."

"But Ghost will get mad if I go alone.”

"Then say I took you. He's asleep. He won't know."

You huff. "Gaz, that's lying."

Gaz rolls onto his side again to look down at you. "Oh, tsk, tsk. Poor little thing. Always so honest and forthcoming yourself, aren’t you?"

Heat pinches the hollow of your throat. He's shaming you.

Gaz leans in, his voice low and lazy. "Tell me something, darling. Do you pretend your head is empty because you can’t help yourself, or because you’re afraid not to?"

You sink down into the water until only your eyes peek out. Heat licks all the way down your chest, radiating against the cold water. "You're being mean."

"Am I?" he croons, his lips curled smug. "I don’t like it when you play dumb. Makes me want to be mean."

If you were a bolder creature, you'd call him a brute.

He reaches out and gives your ear a fond flick. "S’cute when you pout."

"So you're not coming with me?" you mumble.

"Mm, I didn't say that." Gaz glances up at the sky as he pretends to consider your wants. The corners of his mouth tug up into that dimpled smile of his that never quite disappears. "I'll take you there if you lay with me."

You grasp the edge of the rock again, pulling yourself closer again in relief. "You will? By the cliffs?"

"No." He pats his sunning rock again. "Here."

You look down at the salty, ocean-smoothed stone. "But people will see."

"Don’t care." He pats again, more firmly this time. "Come up. Get warm. You're worrying so much it’s wearing me out just watching you.”

You glance over your shoulder again. It's not like you haven't laid out in the sun before. You like to snooze in the sun as much as any mer. But it always seems to attract attention. Human attention. You're not scary-looking to them like Gaz is. You're more like a novelty. A bauble. Something from old sailing stories.

Humans get way too close to you if you give them the opportunity.

Gaz watches you. “You really think I’d let anyone lay a hand on you?”

"No, but..."

Gaz reaches out and gently grips your face, turning you to look at him again. “Now," he says calmly.

You nod at the command. "Okay. Now. Yes." For Gaz. Your fingers flutter over the edge of the rock as you look for a place to pull yourself up. You try to tune out the ambient human noise behind you.

Gaz helps you pull yourself up out of the water, depositing you on the sun-warmed rock next to him. You end up on your side, mirroring him chest-to-chest.

You stare at his collarbone. "Hi."

He slides a warm, rough-skinned palm up under your jaw to tilt your chin. “Hi yourself.”

His sharkshin feels strange when it’s dry. Not bad, but... strange. Still smooth, but grainy with salt. And it's cold up here. Even in the sun, the breeze makes you shiver and duck into Gaz's chest. You still feel so exposed with your bare back to the busy shallows.

“Relax. Fussy thing.” Price’s words. Gaz pulls you against him, one arm curled over you. Then he stretches out on his back, bringing you with him to sprawl over his chest. He drapes his hand over the fin that trails down the base of your spine, rubbing his thumb over the arch of your lower back.

"Better?" he asks, his voice barely above a rumble against your ear.

"I guess so." Not really.

"Don’t pout. No one’s gonna come up to you while I’m here, you know. Only thing snatching you off these rocks is me. That make you feel safe? Cuddling up with the most dangerous thing here?”

You give him a flat look, still feeling your earlier embarrassment. You’d push him off this stupid rock if you could.

His grin widens. "Don't look at me like that. You started this."

"I'm telling Ghost."

"Tattle-tale."

"Hmph." You wriggle over until you slide into the crook of his other arm with your hand on his chest. This way, you can see the humans and their boats over him, but you're mostly hidden from view.

"Sullen little…" Gaz's other arm slides over your back, holding you snugly to him. One big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing in a way that makes your eyelids flutter. His mouth is right next to your ear. "Now will you stop flinching every time a boat passes?"

“Okay."

"Good. Now stay," he orders in a low voice, "and stop wriggling."

...

more mer au / more Gaz / masterlist

483 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 4 months ago

Text

Running Late

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who is visually impaired

CW: reader has a degenerative eye disease that has left her with little sight, boys are obsessed with her, Marlene and Regulus read Sirius like a book

A/N: another fic no one really asked for but, after my post with our sweet wheelchair user!reader, our resident pink heart emoji felt courageous enough to share their own experience with visual impairment and I was inspired by her to write this - so, I hope you enjoy it 🩷 (and everyone else who might need it 🫶)

There was a time that you and Sirius rivalled one another for who took the longest to get ready, but lately it seemed that you usually won in that regard.

Remus didn’t mind, however; he’d wait on you for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

He had a certain amount of patience for you that he, admittedly, did not have for Sirius; seeing as you had your degenerative eye disease to blame on your tardiness whereas Sirius was just a slow and lazy sod who lived to drive Remus mad.

He and Sirius had been dressed in their best in the living room as they waited for you to finish getting ready before heading to Regulus’ birthday party that Lily and James were throwing for him, when Sirius couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m just going to go see what is taking so long.” He explained before he disappeared down the hall.

But that was almost 14 minutes ago and now Remus had lost two of his partners in his own flat.

He slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom door that was currently propped open, allowing him to watch Sirius who was perched on the vanity table as he hovered over you with a stick of eyeliner in his hands.

You used to be quite adventurous with makeup; always watching new tutorials and trying out different styles. But as your eyesight deteriorated, you opted to remain more natural in your looks, working primarily off of memory than visuals when having to hold a mirror so close to your face no longer allowed you the dexterity to work as you were used to.

And Remus knew for certain you hadn’t touched that stick of eyeliner in what had to be months.

“Don’t you trust my abilities?” Sirius asked teasingly; his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he focused on getting the wing just right.

“‘Course I trust you, Siri. I just-”

“-don’t want to look silly, I know, doll.” Sirius finished for you softly as he leaned back to consider his work. “I’d never let you leave looking silly.”

“When has she ever looked silly, Pads?” Remus asked then, alerting the two of you to his presence.

“Not once; never.” He answered readily, causing you to scoff.

“See, this is why I don’t trust you; you’re not objective.”

“I am too objective!” Sirius quickly denied.

“Sirius, you think I look sexy with my retainer and flannel pyjamas.” You deadpanned in return.

“But… you are sexy with your retainer and flannel pyjamas? You just look so cosy which makes me think about bed, which makes me think about going to bed with you, which makes me think about what we do in said bed and-”

“Alright, alright.” Remus interrupted with a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he inspected Sirius’ handiwork.

“How does she look?” Sirius asked him, leaning into Remus’ side as they both watched you flush under their attention.

“Breathtaking.” Remus offered.

“You’re not objective, either.” You murmured, pulling the small mirror close to your face in order to scrutinise Sirius’ application.

“Fine, you want objective, gorgeous?” Sirius quipped as he pulled his phone out.

“What are you doing?” You asked warily as you heard Sirius’ phone begin to ring.

“Calling the most objective people I know.” He answered just as the ringing stopped.

“What the fuck do you want? And also, where the fuck are you?” Regulus asked his brother.

“Hey Reg, you’re on speaker phone and I need a favour.”

“On my birthday? You’re asking me for a favour on my birthday?” Regulus asked incredulously.

“Relax you git, I just need you to find Marlene and put your camera on so you can answer a question for me.” Sirius called back.

You grumbled in protest at Sirius’ theatrics but acquiesced at Remus’ kiss to your temple and thumb rubbing along your shoulder where his hand rested.

“The fuck does he want!?” You all heard Marlene ask Regulus, causing the two of you to snort and Sirius to scoff in offence.

“You guys are fuckin’ horrid, listen; how do I look?”

Marlene went first. “Slutty.”

“Like you tried too hard.” Regulus continued.

“Like you’re still trying to piss off your parents even though you don’t talk to them anymore.”

“Like you were lost at a Paramore concert back in 2007 and still haven’t been picked up from the venue.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Sirius sighed before repositioning himself. “And how does Moony look?”

“Better, I guess.” Regulus offered.

“If I had to pick a man.” Marlene continued.

“Great.” Sirius said sarcastically. “And what about Y/N?” He asked as he pointed the phone to you.

Remus could tell you were trying your hardest not to completely turn in on yourself, which he himself was selfishly grateful for as he got to enjoy the view.

“God, she’s such a doll.” Marlene breathed out.

“You look stunning, love.” Regulus called out.

“Great, you guys are both wankers, love you, see you soon.” Sirius responded before abruptly ending the call. “Was that objective enough for you?”

You let out a sigh of faux exasperation and threw your head back. “Okay! Okay.” You relented, allowing Remus to pull you up by your hands and kiss your forehead.

“Oi! Watch the makeup Rem!” Sirius admonished him with a pat to his arse. “We worked hard on that, don’t you know?”

And Remus did know, though he didn’t think you had to.

Because you were beautiful - always had been - and the way you carried yourself with grace and determination even when you felt as though your body was failing you left you, somehow, even more beautiful.

Remus had known you before your eyesight started to deteriorate, and he was lucky to have been able to love both versions of you.

Though, selfishly, he thought perhaps he loved this version of you more, simply because it was his.

Simply because it was you; here, now.

And judging by the lovesick look adorning his boyfriend’s face as he watched you stand and give him a twirl, Sirius felt just the same.

737 notes · View notes

doromoni · 6 months ago

Text

Gear Shift Failure | MV1, LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x presenter! Reader , Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader

Genre : Fluff , Angst

Sub tags : Mutual Pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late.

Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?

Face claim : Sofia Wylie

A/N: Upon receiving many requests, here’s the continuation you lovely goblins 🤍. Also I am still continuing the Clash of Champions ~ i promise (finals end this week!!)

Part 1.

You fought the smile that was forming on your face, as you re-read your conversation with Lando from yesterday.

It has already been a week since your interview with Lando, yet you somehow found yourself in constant communication with the young British Driver. You weren’t going to deny that you enjoyed spending time and talking to him. And maybe going out on dates with Lando would do you good.

“ Ok, so I have a friend and she has a dilemma”

You suddenly broke the silence in the room. You were in your designated office inside Sky yet again, but this time you had the older drivers lazying around your space. Some with a book in hand — while the rest just played on their phones.

“What’s your dilemma muñequita? “ Fernando asked as he set down his phone, giving you his entire attention.

“Not me Nando! My friend” you exclaimed at the Spanish world champion who was lounging on your couch still munching on the chips he found in your stash.

“Mhm… yes your friend. Continue, sweetie~ “ Lewis urged you to speak, as he settled further into your couch right beside Fernando

“ Yes, let the girl speak! What is it Liefje” Nico added as he clutched your oversized plush into his arms, a half-opened book dangling in his hands.

“My friend likes this guy right? The two of them are very close and they share this connection that to others seems more than a friendship- and at one point my friend thought that he felt the same with her a—“

You once again didn’t finish your sentence when Nando interrupted you once more.

“Really? What happe-“The Aston Martin driver was invested

“LET THE GIRL SPEAK!”

“FERNANDO! “

“MATE, I SWEAR!”

They all collectively scolded the Spanish driver — prompting him to laugh and raise his hands in surrender

“Ok. So my friend thought that the guy that she liked was starting to like her back. But not a week later, the guy that she liked was rumored to have a girlfriend. And he started to avoid my friend…. This was 3 months ago by the way.” You finally finished your story, and now you look at their reactions

Fernando, Lewis, Nico, and Valterri had all fallen into thinking.

“So how long is the guy and the new girl going out? And how does your friend feel” the quiet Finnish driver gently asked you.

“Oh, officially for a few weeks, I guess? My friend felt hurt of course. But it gets less painful overtime… uh she said that to me”

“Oh. That’s good for your friend, liefjie! By the sound of it she slowly moving on” Nico uttered, a sense of comfort rushed through you

“How is your friend now, Is she feeling ok?” Lewis asked empathically

“ She’s great, and you’re right Nico. She slowly moving on.”

“So what’s the problem muñequita?”

“Well, another person had asked her out and she feels guilty because she doesn’t want to use him to get over the guy she likes” you explained to the 4 older drivers.

“WHO ASKED YOU OUT !? Young lady tell us this instance!” You didn’t expect Lewis’ outbursts — you expect Nando to react that way, but not Lewis!

“It’s not me!!” You tried to bluff once more

“Y/N, we know it’s you” Nico explained with a smile, while you pouted as they all chuckled.

“OK FINE! It’s me” You utter as you gave up the act.

“So I assume the guy you were talking about was Max, right?” Valtteri asked, finally speaking.

“I’m very obvious aren’t I?” You said defeated, as you stood up from your seat and wedged yourself beside Nico.

“Everyone with a pair of eyes knew something was between you and Max, “ Nando said as Valterri nodded in agreement.

“Young lady, you haven’t answered my question. Who asked you? Is it another driver?” Suddenly you felt like you were on the hot seat — as all their eyes focused on you with eyebrows raised. It felt like you were being questioned by your dad.

“Uhmm yes, it’s another driver… it’s Lando” You said as you picked on your nails. A shy smile graces your face.

“ He finally had the balls to ask huh?” Nando snickered

“What?? You also knew?!” You asked flabbergasted. You surveyed the room and saw all of them snickering amongst themselves.

“He did ask for my permission, sort of… it was just jumbled words that didn’t make sense then” Lewis explained as he visibly got less tense.

“Lando asked permission from you?? What are you, my dad?” You asked amused, come to think of it Lewis was sort of a father figure to you. Being that he always supported and guided you ever since the start of your journey in Formula 1

“Well, you sticking around me like a toddler in your first year here doesn’t help, sweetie.” Lewis could only laugh at the memories of him taking care of you. Memories like Lewis driving you around, giving you food, telling you to talk to others.

“And what are you guys? My uncles?” You asked the 3 drivers, who only shrugged and nodded.

“Well, should I say yes to Lando then?” You asked dropping all pretense and just laying it all out

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Liefjie” Nico advised

“Yeah try something new, Dear. Max had his chance and he didn’t take it. So go have fun with Lando!” Fernando added, patting your hand.

You set your eyes on Valtteri — who only nodded his head with a smile.

“ You have our approval, and we’ll support your decision, sweetie! Do what will make you happy” Lewis said comfortingly

the.Y/N

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris , maxverstappen1, and 472,002 others

the.Y/N Apparently, @lewishamilton is my father?? I was only made notice now, ok I guess.

lewishamilton thank you for the flattering pictures , sweetie 🥲

the.Y/N oh no worries, pops! More to come I swear🤍

user1 Y/N please don’t dogshow the old man 😭

user2 HAHAHAHAAH I swear Y/N is a different breed

user3 Awwww! I always loved it when Lewis calls Y/N sweetie.

user4 The grid father and daughter pairing 🤍

landonorris Oh, You weren’t aware?

the.Y/N No, I was not :)) . I was made aware when someone asked for permission.

landonorris well glad to be of service

lewishamilton @landonorris get your act straight! I already approve

landonorris @lewishamilton will do my very best, sir. Thank you 🫡

the.Y/N I hate and love you both 😮‍💨

User1 Approve of what Sir Lewis?? Lando is approved for what??

mercedesamgf1 family photo with Roscoe when?

the.Y/N already have tons of it in the gallery 😛

You continued to scroll past your feed and Kelly’s post appeared …

kellypiquet

liked by maxvestappen1 and 638,073 others

kellypiquet Happiest when with you 💙

view all comments

maxverstappen1 💙

You knew that you shouldn’t feel jealousy or anger, but you couldn’t help but frown as you saw Max and Kelly acting all sweet. It still stung that you didn’t mean anything more to Max, all the memories you’ve made you’ve looked at rose-tinted, shattered.

So you strengthened your resolve and focused all your thoughts on your work. You then remembered that you had a date with Lando. You went back to your conversation a while ago

Then slowly, without noticing, a smile bloomed on your face at the thought of Lando Norris.

One date with Lando turned into two, two turned into three, then four and five.

the.Y/N

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, and 629,920 others

the.Y/N So much fun , laughs , and food 🧡 10/10 would do again!

charles_leclerc you aren’t sneaky with that orange heart y/n

the.y/n 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton stay safe and go home early ~ i’m watching you two.

the.Y/N hehehe will do, promise

User1 Ms. Y/N are you seeing someone 🧐

the.Y/N I dunno~ maybeeee

User2 ok! Im invested. Who is it @the.Y/N?? Please spill

User2 this is so Lando Norris coded I swear.

User 6 I know!! Golf and karting? Could they be more obvious. Ughh I ship it🧡

User3 you look sooooooo pretty Y/N!! who ever’s dating , I hope they could fight . 😤

liked by landonorris

User3 LANDO NORRIS LIKED MY COMMENT??? HELLO?!

User4 Lando????!!

You were progressively forgetting your feelings for the Dutch Red Bull Driver . How can you not? When Lando Norris had been showering you with so much love and affection.

Then finally, Lando asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes. You were ready to let someone else in your heart— and this time you were sure that there was someone to catch you when you fell.

your story close friends

viewed by landonorris , charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 , and 35 others

story replies

charles_leclerc I made this couple 💪 It was all MEEEE.

landonorris 🧡🤍 someones getting bolder ey?

maxverstappen1 haha i’ve been replaced as your bestfriend 😂

landonorris story

viewed by the.Y/N , charles_leclerc , carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 , and 5,628,926 others

the.Y/N And I was bold? Ok soft launch ~ Kudos mr. Norris! I won’t go down without a fight tho 🫡

charles_leclerc someones being braveee

carlossainz55 Landino! Are you and y/n ready to share to the world then?

The two of you kept everything on the low, yet you didn’t keep it a secret — only very select few knew. Lando and you wanted to enjoy what you two had to yourselves first. Everyone outside your circle thought that the two of you were just friends.

But that didn’t stop either of you from posting online.

Max saw your posts and the feeling of something clawing in his stomach resurfaced. He didn’t like it one bit. It has been 2 months ever since he found out that Lando held feelings for you. And it has been a month since the two of you properly spoke. And if he were honest to himself, Max missed your presence dearly.

Kelly didn’t have anything in common with him. And most of the time, he grew bored and he just wanted to crawl back to his sim and drive constantly.

Max missed talking about everything and nothing with you. He missed how you shared his interests and how the two of you explored every one of them. Max just missed… You.

The longer he stared at his phone screen, the deeper his anxiety rose. He didn’t like what he saw, not one bit. He needed to do something about it.

***

You are lounging in your Boyfriend’s condo, dressed in a hoodie that you stole from his dresser. Soft music played on the centralized sound system.

Lando was inside his streaming room live on Twitch, while you made your way into his kitchen and started to cook dinner for the two of you. Lando did love your cooking.

Then suddenly your phone rang and to your surprise it was Max calling. Without any further thought, you picked up the call.

“Hello, Y/N?” You heard Max’s voice on the line, the usual butterflies present in your stomach were now absent. You didn’t feel the bubbling sensation you used to feel when Max unexpectedly called.

Then suddenly, you heard Lando shout nonsense, probably at his best mate. A smile grazed your lips as you heard your boyfriend’s shout in the distance.

“Oh, hi Max! What’s up?” You asked curiously, balancing your phone on your shoulders as you took out the ingredients from the fridge.

“Where are you, right now? No one’s answering the front door” Max’s reply startled you. Why is he at your house all of a sudden?

“What? You’re in my house… uh why?” You asked, a tone of confusion present in your voice

“It’s Wednesday, Movie night remember” You were filled with even more perplexity for the Red Bull driver. The two of you haven’t talked one one-on-one for nearly a month, not even through chat. Movie nights with Max were long forgotten.

“Max…. We haven’t had movie night in 3 months.” You replied carefully.

“Uhm, we can start again?” You sensed the hopelessness in his voice.

“I’m sorry Max, I’m at Lando’s right now… and I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate it if we suddenly continued movie nights”

“You’re at Lando’s? Y/N its already la-”

“Max I think it’s best if we kept our distance… yeah?” You suddenly interjected, clearly stating your boundaries.

“What?! Why?” Max asked incredulously

“Max … you have a girlfriend! I don’t want to create any misunderstandings. And I don’t want Lando to have doubts … considering that I used to have feelings for you before. But we can still hang out … but in a group setting”

You didn’t mean to spill everything and tell Max of your past feelings for him, but you found yourself relieved of letting it out of your chest. Now you could truly say that you have moved on.

There was silence before Max had finally answered. “Oh… ok. I understand”

“Bye Max” At that you ended the call, leaving that part of your past behind.

The sound of the call ending echoed in Max’s head. The words you’ve said slowly dawned on him.

You liked him? Since when? Suddenly understanding and relief filled Max. He realized that he liked you more than just a sister. He didn’t look at you as just a friend. He suddenly understood the emotions that he was so afraid to explore before. What he felt for you was something so strong that it scared him. It wasn’t like what he felt when he was with Kelly, no. But with you, He felt vulnerable, He felt like everything was on the table because you understood him so well.

Then suddenly Max froze, as if cold water was dumped all over him. You said liked … past tensed. You didn’t like him anymore. Max was suddenly filled with dread, chest hurting as if tons of weight pressed on it.

He had his chances in making you his, and his alone. Max Verstappen maybe the fastest driver on the grid , but outside the track — he had failed to switch gears from making you from a friend to much much more. He had lost you and it was all his fault.

landonorris

liked by the.Y/N , mclaren, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc , and 1,639,829 others

landonorris the world should see the forever view of my camera lens. Love you , stranger 🧡

tagged @the.Y/N

the.Y/N I love you more, stranger🧡

taglist: @spookystitchery @bibissparkles @newlifeforus @steamy-smokey @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @charizznorizz @evesfile @j-lesca @gr1mes-cc @ironmaiden1313

718 notes · View notes

usedpidemo · 5 months ago

Text

Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff.

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality.

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.”

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed.

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures.

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word.

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way.

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears.

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.”

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?”

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—”

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.”

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation.

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.”

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate.

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers.

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi.

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.”

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.”

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back.

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.”

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds.

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.”

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw.

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face.

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise.

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic.

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there.

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing.

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.”

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same.

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests.

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek.

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by.

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again.

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning.

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable.

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!”

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint.

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all.

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer. Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good.

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself.

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell.

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours.

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—”

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in.

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought.

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly.

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her.

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you.

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever.

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating.

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips.

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns.

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her.

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core.

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them.

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret.

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin.

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi

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