#but this opportunity seems really great for me

[usedpidemo]

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!)

[lcvclywon]

can you see me i'm waiting for the right time?

back to masterlist

synopsis ᯓ Kim woonhak. You've had the biggest crush on him for as long as you can remember. Despite being a year younger than you he never failed to catch your eye whether it be his guitar skills or photography. You had come to terms with the fact that your silly school girl crush would never be reciprocated, but when he suddenly joins yearbook committee your fate might change. As you two grow closer you find it hard to contain your feelings, but then again, there was never really a right time to tell him.

now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 bags - clairo

warnings ˎˊ˗ errrr kinda open ending, skinship, cursing, yn is kinda a lewserrrrr, angst if you squint, idk anything else so lmk!

thoughts frm yuya💭 first bnd fic heheheheh had to write for my pookie woonhak ! also im procrastinating on my jay fic its still at 18k i apologize. but also this is super duper self indulgent hahahahah my queen juni only knows of that 😁 but anyways HOPE YOU ENJOY! lmk if you would like more bnd fics ^^

“Everyone please welcome the school band!” your principal announced before moving off the stage so that the auditorium could get a better view of the musicians. 

And that’s when you saw him. 

Kim Woonhak. 

He stood there, guitar in hand and strumming along to whatever melody the lead singer was belting out. But in all honesty you couldn’t really focus on the music, well other than the guitar solo, because your eyes were too stuck on Kim Woonhak. And in that moment, you swore you were what the poets could only describe as: lovestruck.

That was in sophomore year and since then you really couldn’t get over your crush on Woonhak. Slowly but surely you learnt more and more about him: you learnt that he just transferred to your highschool from the bustling streets of seoul, you learnt that he was a year younger than you, that he was an avid football enjoyer, and that he had absolutely no clue who you were at all.

In all honesty however you really weren’t trying to do anything about your small crush either, you were perfectly content with admiring him from afar. Partly because of the fact that if you were in a situation where you had to speak with him you feared you would only fumble over your words. It’s not like Woonhak was scary or intimidating, actually it was the complete opposite; contrary to his bandmates Woonhak was one of the most approachable members of the group. Yet every time there was an opportunity to speak to him you stumbled over each phrase leaving your mouth. 

But it’s okay, it’s not like Woonhak even liked you back. 

“Hi, is this the yearbook club?” How come that voice sounds so familiar? 

Turning around you were met with a sight that you truly weren’t ready for “It’s Kim Woonhak, from uh class 11B! I was hoping to sign up” ah…so that’s why. 

“Oh nice to meet you, YN is the leader so talk to her about joining- er she’s right over there!” curse you Yeji. 

“Hey YN right?” he said before quickly tapping your shoulder. Regaining your composure you cleared your throat before turning around to face him, said composure you just regained suddenly seemed to melt away in an instant the moment he flashed that toothy grin at you. 

“Oh uh- yeah yeah…” smooth YN, real smooth. 

“I was wondering if you guys had a photographer yet? I know your head of the editorial team so I assumed you would know..” 

“Oh we um, we actually don’t-” 

“Oh that’s perfect! Well I mean, not perfect for you guys obviously, but uh- I was hoping I could work on leading photography this year?” oh and he’s multitalented, great. 

“I didn’t know you did photography” you mumbled whilst typing away on your laptop to add his name to the yearbook committee

“Oh I don’t really talk about it a lot, but it’s just a casual hobby you know” his hand reached for the nape of his neck as his gaze averted down to the floor

“Ah that’s nice,” you replied absentmindedly “well you’re now a part of the team so uh, I’ll email you the pictures we need soon…”

“Great thanks YN!” fuck, there was that smile. “I’ll get going now, I’ve got band practice..but it was great speaking to you! Promise I won’t disappoint you leader.” he added with a playful giggle while mock saluting, you couldn’t really control your face when a slight smile appeared across your face. 

“Oooh someone’s not over him I see…” Yeji chirped up the moment he left the room, the smile on your face immediately dropping before you turned away to pack away your belongings

“What are you talking about Yeji, we said like 3 things to each other…”

“Three things are enough for me to know that you definitely aren’t over that guy!” 

“Okay first off,” you started before finally zipping up your backpack “We were just having a friendly conversation, nay not even friendly considering it was for work.” slinging your blue backpack over your shoulder you added “second off, I didn’t even have a huge crush on him. All I said was he’s cute, and that was like what- sophomore year? It’s been a year, it was nothing seriously..” yeah you weren’t even buying your own lame excuse 

“Mhm, sure…I know you still like him!” She called out as you were halfway out the door, earning nothing but a slam in the face from you leaving.

“Hey YN?” 

You immediately shot your head up from the peaceful nap you were having, Kim Woonhaks voice immediately snapping you out of your dreamlike state. Looking up at him with dazed eyes and thought still admittedly fogging up your brain you could only utter out “What- huh?”

“Oh sorry did I wake you?” he replied, his tone was a mixture of what you could assume to be a wince and giggle combined into one

“Um kinda,” you reached over to rub your hazy eyes before staring back up at him “What’s up Woonhak?” 

“Could you look over these pictures I took of yesterday’s sport festival, I’m not sure if they’re alright or not-” handing you his camera you couldn’t shake off the feeling of his hand grazing yours as you reached over 

Shaking your head in hopes to rid the burning sensation firing through your arm you diligently looked over the snapshots he took, nodding slightly in approval at each one. “These look great Woonhak, thank you.” you finally commented before handing him back his camera. Standing up from your desk you were amidst packing up before he jumped in to add “Ah um sorry there’s one more thing I need to do…”

“Hm?” 

“When taking the yearbook committee’s photo I didn’t realise my SD card wasn’t loaded up so I kinda didn’t get to save any of the pictures I took…I got everyone else’s photo I just need yours” he explained whilst holding up his camera 

“Oh wait like- right now?” when else YN you idiot

“Yeah I guess…” 

“Ah okay,” you replied before walking over to the nearest blank white wall in sight “Is this okay?”

“Yep perfect, just hold that pose for me…” he trailed off whilst snapping a few photos “How are these?” walking over you examined each photo he took closely, not minding how his face was a few mere inches from yours as you did so.

“Aw wait I look so bad in these-” you whined out, slightly embarrassed that you looked this dishevelled in front of him 

“What no what do you mean, you look pretty” he mumbled under his breath, obviously not noticing the red hue that flushed over your face the moment he uttered that. Becoming all too aware of the heat creeping up your cheeks you backed away slowly before muttering “I guess it’s fine then…”

“Alright then, thanks YN! I guess I’ll get going now..” wait fuck was he going already? YN come on say something, say anything! Ask him to hangout later, ask him something about himself, talk to him, he’s right there what are you waiting for? 

“Hey Woonhak-”

“Oh hm?” his head immediately perking up at your voice 

And in that moment, the moment his eyes met yours, it seemed all the words died on the very tip of your tongue “Ah it’s nothing, uh just remember to send me the pictures later you know?” 

“Ahh gotchu gotchu, I’ll make sure to do that! Bye YN” and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to call out his name to stop him from leaving, but you didn’t.

Great YN. 

Come on YN, you can do this. He’s just a guy, you’ve spoken to guys before, who cares? It’s not a big deal just go in and-

“Oh YN is that you?” ah shit.

Letting out a loud sigh you cleared your throat before creaking the door of the music studio room open to peek your head through “Hi Woonhak, er is this a bad time?” you asked after seeing how you unknowingly interrupted his guitar practice 

“Oh no, It’s fine, come in!” rushing to put down his guitar he pounced up and briskly walked over to the door to allow you in 

“Ah I just came to say some of the files got corrupted when you sent them to me so I was wondering if you could send them to me again” you said before timidly stepping into the studio, carefully examining the sheet music he was playing 

“Oh yeah no problem,” he seemed to catch onto how your eyes scanned through the sheets of paper and how your hands travelled across the metallic strings of his guitar, “Do you um- do you play?” 

“Oh what?” your tone was jumpy, suddenly flustered at the question “ah no no, not really…I mean I kinda do play, but I’m not very good. I’m still really bad…” you trailed off, gaze still directed to the sheet music 

“Do you want to try playing?” his hand now reaching over to hand the guitar to you 

“Ah I only know I few songs though-” still you timidly took the instrument in hand and began strumming a few open chords whilst singing in a barely audible tone; woonhak still caught it though, and you could tell as he swayed his head side to side to the melody. 

“I’m still um,” you finally said after finishing playing, “I’m really bad” you couldn’t help but add a nervous chuckle to the end of that sentiment, you expected him to laugh and agree in response but instead he just said “Don’t say that, there’s always room for improvement.” before standing up to sit himself down next to you. 

“Do you want me to teach you how to play, I was just practising and I’m sure you can get the hang of it” you can’t help but feel your pupils dilate and blood to rush up your cheeks before hesitantly nodding

As he guided you through the chords of the song you couldn’t help but hold your breath as his face was a mere few inches away from yours, you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat out of your chest as his hands held your fingers to adjust it accordingly to the notes, you couldn’t help but stutter nervously every time you asked if you were playing the right chord to which he only responded with a reassuring nod and gentle grin.

“Look at that you’re a natural!” he exclaimed the moment you finished the song

“Well it was only thanks to your help, do you have any tips to improve?” you asked trying to continue the conversation, this was the one time you actually had the guts to speak to Woonhak and you were not going to fumble

“I guess just improvise a lot, also try and practise scales since those are super helpful as well…actually most electric guitar songs are built on scales so once you’ve got those down you can pretty much play a ton of electric guitar songs!” suddenly pausing he reached to the nape of his neck before sheepishly mumbling “ah sorry I’m rambling, I probably sound like a huge music nerd right now…” 

“No, It’s cute that you’re passionate!” oh, for once your mind seemed to run faster than your mouth. 

Suddenly perking his head up to meet your equally shocked gaze he let out a nervous chuckling before mumbling something you could only assume was thank you. The silence in the room becoming all too overwhelming you cleared your throat slightly before stuttering out “Uh well, thanks for the impromptu lesson Woonhak- I’ve got some yearbook work to finish up so I think I’ll get going…” you didn’t really wait for his response before briskly leaving the room, face still flushed with embarrassment. 

The next few weeks consisted of more interactions with Woonhak than you’ve had the entire two years you’ve attended the same highschool as him. It wasn’t anything big: a simple wave across the hallway as you passed by each other, small talk in yearbook committee meetings, the occasional music sessions together in the band room, it was fun. It was really nothing, but you cherished those fleeting few moments you had with him. Over time you came to the conclusion that the relationship between you and woonhak would stay this way, acquaintances. So imagine the whiplash you got when he approached you at your lunch table through the crowd of people. 

“Hey YN!” he chirped out, cheery as every 

Slightly coughing on your yakult from surprise you gathered yourself before replying a bit too quickly with “Oh Woonhak! Hi- uh what’s up?”

“Oh I had something to give you,” carefully he pulled out a small tupperware container of bright red fruit from his bag, placing it in front of you “they’re strawberries! It’s from my grandma's garden actually-” 

Startled by the sudden kind gesture you could only stare at the container with your mouth slightly agape, “Oh what, thank you wow- uh what’s the occasion?”

“Oh I heard you complaining the other day to Yeji how the canteen only ever gives you 2 strawberries each. So I thought you would like some extra!” he answered, hand extending to open the container for you 

“Oh wait you really didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to don’t worry!” He had to stop doing that. 

Before you could answer you were cut off by someone shouting his name from across the lunch room; a slightly older boy, hair hazelnut brown and arm slung across one of his other friends. “Hey Kim Woonhak, stop being Romeo and come back to eat!” 

You observed how Woonhak rolled his eyes in annoyance before grunting out a response back to his friend. “Sorry, Jaehyun hyung is calling- Uh hope you enjoy though!” he didn’t really give you a chance to respond before rushing back to his table, earning a shove in the shoulder from one of his other friends. 

Looking down at the fruit you couldn’t help but smile to yourself before savouring the sweet taste when you bit down on one. However your moment of solitude was short lived as your friends approached the table in a giggling storm.

“Oooh what was that hm? Finally making some progress with loverboy?” Yeji teased before sitting down next to you, helping herself to one of the juicy berries 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you deadpanned, voice slightly muffled from the fruit in your mouth 

“I didn’t even know YN was close too Woonhak like that” Lia added whilst poking at her rice 

“We’re not that close, we’re just friends you know? We work on the yearbook together so…”

“Well best not to get too close I guess,” Ryujin commented in between spoonfuls of soup “I heard he’s leaving in a couple of weeks, something about his parents wanting him to go back to Seoul for the family business? I don’t know-”

Everything stopped, you tried to play it cool and ignore the dreadful feeling simmering in the pits of your stomach but you really couldn’t stop a small frown forming across your face after hearing the news. 

“Oh I heard he likes some girl in his class too, he was gonna confess to her on his last day or something? Jo Yuri I think that’s what her name was” Chaeryeong added nonchalantly, clearly not noticing how your head dipped down more and more as the conversation went on. Suddenly you weren’t so hungry. 

“I uh-” you stood up and began packing away your things “I think I’m gonna get a head start on yearbook work today” 

“Wait YN are you okay?” Yeji asked, clearly concerned 

“Yeah I’m fine! I just have a lot to do today that’s all-” you attempted to sound carefree, even throwing in a slight chuckle. But your friends obviously weren’t buying it, so instead you just rushed out of the canteen. But not before sneaking a glance at woonhak: seeing how carefree and happy he looked with his friends, how sweet his gaze was and how cheerful his toothy grin was. But also noticing how his table was right next to Yuri’s, fun. 

Well it’s not like you had a chance anyways, guess that just solidifies it. 

“Woonhak?” creeping into the yearbook club room you peered over at his sleeping figure on the table, god why did he have to look so peaceful sleeping. 

Walking over to the table he was dozing off on you situated yourself next to him allowing yourself to lay down as well to face him carelessly snoozing off. Chuckling a bit to yourself at the sight you allowed yourself to gingerly run your hands through his hair, well it’s not like he was awake to notice it. 

“This is so stupid…” you sighed out to yourself 

“I really could have had a chance to confess to you if I had just talked sooner, but now you’re leaving in a few weeks and I’m kinda hopeless. I really do wish I talked to you after your first performance that one day at school, god you looked so cool…I don’t even know why you make me so nervous” your fingers traced over the crinkled fabric on his shoulders, not really caring if he responded 

“Well I don’t think I had a chance in the first place did I?” you rambled on “Yuri is sweet, I’m happy as long as you’re happy you know…but I just wish it was me. I just wish you liked me as much as I liked you, I wish you got nervous the same way I do when I’m around you. I wish I spoke to you earlier. But I doubt that would change anything, I’m still just YN…the one senior you work with for yearbook, nothing else.” 

Realising how immensely self loathing and pathetic this whole situation was you slowly pushed in your stool in hopes not to wake him and tip-toed out the room. But amidst this you failed to notice how the tip of Woonhak’s ears turned pink, you failed to notice the incessant thumping of his heart, you failed to notice how his cheeks burned a bright pink, you failed to notice how Kim Woonhak was awake this whole time. 

Stumbling into the auditorium you squeezed yourself into one of the chairs arranged in rows, squished against other students like a pack of sardines. Weeks passed and you hadn’t really spoken to Woonhak ever since learning he was leaving soon, you really weren’t looking to get too attached (not like you already weren’t). But before you knew it, it was the last day of school and you wouldn’t be seeing Woonhak for a long long time. However, you’ve learned to come to terms with this fact, it’s not like you weren’t already distancing yourself from him to prepare for it. 

“Hello everyone!” Jaehyun's voice bellowed through the speakers, snapping you out of your thought process. “Today is actually one of our band member’s last days. Our Woonhak is off to Seoul soon so he requested this special song! Hope you enjoy it!” 

They then began to play a melody you felt was far too familiar, but then it hit you. It was the song Woonhak was teaching you before in the music room. Ah shit. You tried to focus on what the other members were playing or singing but your eyes always managed to drift towards Woonhak. You really couldn’t help but have a slight melancholy feeling brewing in your stomach as you realised this would be your last day seeing him. The moment felt all too bittersweet but seeing him so happy on stage performing brought out a smile. It was the same smile you had when first seeing him, when he entered the yearbook club room for the first time, when he taught you guitar, and when you confessed to him. It was a smile only Woonhak could bring out. 

And as if he was peering into your thoughts Woonhak glanced up from his guitar and looked straight at you. His warm honey gaze met yours, eyes shaped like crescents as he adorned his signature toothy grin. For once though, you didn’t pull away first. Your eyes lay fixated on his as you smiled back. Perhaps it was because you finally got close enough to woonhak to do so, or maybe because you knew this would be the last time you could truly look into that flutter inducing gaze of his. Eitherways, you knew you would regret it if you pulled away. So you didn’t. You didn’t stop looking until the performance was over and each member bowed, but even then his stare remained on you. 

As the performance ended students began flooding out the auditorium, you doing the same, but that was until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist. Jolting back you were met with Woonhak’s sincere expression facing you, an expression you felt slightly uneasy about. 

“Hey YN, can we talk?” he said, pulling you back a bit away from the crowd

“Oh uhm what’s up?”

“So uh,” Woonhak’s hand reached towards the back of his head as he pulled a bit at his hair, he was acting uncharacteristically shy. “I’m leaving after today, well I guess you knew that- but yeah uh it was fun um…it was fun working with you!”

“Thanks Woonhak, it was fun working with you too.” your words were poignant as they left your tongue 

“I uh, I’ll miss you.” oh.

“Oh, I'll uh- I’ll miss you too Woonhak…” you were about to continue your sentence until the bell cut you off, signalling students to return to their respective classes “I should get going- you did great today though seriously! Keep doing what you’re doing, your smile’s always the brightest in every room.” you continued, backing away slowly to the auditorium gates 

“It’s reciprocated!” Woonhak called out

“What?” Were you hearing things?

“I like you too YN!” oh. 

perm taglist (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang @cupidhoons @msauthor @dimplewonie @cholexc @i2ycat @bunnbam @tobiosbbyghorl @jlheon @dioll @jwsdoll

[biolumien]

but thankfully, the wind...

notes: do not ask me how much research i did for this. the answer is that while wikipedia is a helpful source, i wonder if i am missing out on the real info, trenches deep in a 39 page article about fertility and marriage in the heian period...

also this will be multichapter. peace and love on planet earth!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader reader throws hands. this is an arranged marriage fic word count: 1364

there was never any room for love in your life. you knew that much. your eventual arranged marriage—because it was never a choice, really, it was an inevitability—would always be for political reasons. 

your family wasn’t a particularly powerful one—you were the daughter of a dying clan with no male heir, so your father was desperate to find you a good match. to sell you off to the most desperate buyer, you’d say archly, glaring at him. at night, while you listened to the chirping of summer cicadas turn to fall crickets and then to the dull silence of winter, you wished that your father’s search for an appropriate marriage candidate would fail, that the matchmaker would find no one. 

eventually, however, your family would receive a marriage offer from the hoshina clan. 

the hoshina clan was a name that held great prestige—its sons were known for their swordsmanship, for a lineage of honorable and noble samurai. but recently, the name seemed to take on a more negative light—rumors of the eldest son, soichiro hoshina, running off to become a lawless ronin and forcing the second son, soshiro hoshina, to take on the mantle of heir. 

you’d watched as your father celebrated his good luck—his good luck at finding you a partner. the blight on the hoshina name aside, the prestige of a family of well-known and reputable samurai could be enough to pull your family out of its dying state. 

but your life, as far as you were concerned, was basically over. 

you wanted nothing to do with the prestige of anything. what did it matter, that the hoshina clan was of great renown? of course, you knew that you’d never marry for love—but even a caged bird dreams of the opportunity of getting to fly on its own, surely. you dreamed of a possibility of marrying for love—that you’d meet some nice man that would whisk you away to the countryside, where you could live out the rest of your life.

but you’d be forced to abandon that dream now. 

and so, while your family and the hoshina clan arranged meetings through the matchmaker, you mourned the end of your life. 

but for better or for worse, soshiro hoshina… was an interesting man. 

he was very quiet, or that’s what you thought for the most part, at least. he spoke softly, sharply towards his father, but would smile cautiously towards you—but in a way where you could tell it was a clear mask, all a part of the facade of the good son, the soon-to-be-wed husband following tradition. 

his hair was just long enough to be tied back into a small bun, and the kimono he wore was a stark black with the faintest hint of violet–the kind of dye saved only for royalty, the high nobility. his hakama was that same shade of violet,  a clear sign of wealth, in any case. 

when he deigned to look at you, you found his eyes were a bright scarlet. 

the first two meetings of your omiai were nothing much of note. soshiro was simply calm, watching you. even when you were given time alone with him, he never made any attempt to touch you, nor to speak. the first time he’d done it, you’d tried to fill the air with words, only for him to just watch you. your face flushed from embarrassment and something like anger, and you’d lifted up your sleeve to hide the wave of emotions crossing your face. 

you’d never asked to be married to this man. so why wouldn’t he speak to you? why did he have to look at you like he pitied you and was upset at this whole fraught affair?

the third meeting was always the one of most importance. it was an implicit agreement to marriage—and despite knowing there was no way your father would have let you say no to the third meeting, you faced it with a sort of irrational upset. it was like standing in front of a precipice that you couldn’t back away from—acknowledging the cliff but still being forced down it. 

this time, soshiro stood in front of you, his father absent. two katanas were sheathed at his side, their handles interwoven with fine black and golden cord. 

“my father suggested that the two of us take our time to be alone today,” soshiro says, looking at your father first, before turning to you. “shall we, then?”

“as if i could say no,” you say, your voice gentle and lilting. you remember your lessons—when you got married, you would be forced to hide your horns, so to speak—your shame and your anger, jealousy and desperation. the feelings that were utterly unbecoming for you—or so your father and mother would say. 

you guide soshiro through the halls of your home, guiding him towards the room your father had set aside for the omiai—it was beautiful, ornate, delicately furnished, of course, with a balcony leading out to a beautiful garden. 

as you folded your legs to sit down, soshiro remained standing.  

“i suppose it might shock you,” soshiro says. soshiro’s voice was soft. gentle. “the marriage offer, and the suddenness of it.” 

his eyes flit to the beautiful garden outside. you know the truth of it—it’s beautiful, but it’s a gilded thing, hiding the rot and abandonment underneath. your family’s legacy in a nutshell, you think bitterly. a collection of power plays and alliances in a desperate attempt to curry favor, to maintain the idea that there was still something good here. as if any of this was worth saving. 

“it doesn’t shock me at all,” you say, trying to keep the bitterness from rising in your voice. “we all have roles we must play. and mine was always destined to be this.” 

“i never wanted to be married,” soshiro says. “the role of a faithful husband and proper heir was always more emphasized for my brother.” 

you laugh archly, delicately, raising yourself to your feet. 

from within a pocket in your kimono’s sleeve, you unsheath a beautiful and ornate knife. the gift had been from the hoshina clan—when your father had opened the gift, he’d sounded extremely honored to have received it— something about the knife representing the hoshina clan’s hopes that you would bear for them a son that might become a sword prodigy as well. 

as you raise the knife to soshiro’s throat, you simply smile. you think it might be an expression unbecoming of a woman of your station—the soon-to-be bride of a samurai. soshiro’s eyes simply watch yours. he doesn’t even shake, his hands not even moving to the katana sheathed at his side. somehow, that irritates you. does he think so little of you that he wouldn’t even raise his sword against you? 

“i truly do apologize,” you murmur, venom in your voice. “it must be such an inconvenience for you, huh? to be married to the daughter of a dying clan, as the second, disgraced and unwanted son.” you press the knife further—not enough to draw blood, but the threat of it, you hoped, conveyed enough. 

“i didn’t have a say in any of this, though,” you say. “when your family’s offer came, all i was told was how honored i should be that the hoshina clan picked me. that my family could’ve picked any other clan, a worse and older samurai that would’ve wanted me for different reasons.” 

soshiro’s gaze fixates on the dagger pointed at his neck, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

you drop the dagger on the ground.

the blade slices into the tatami mats, embedding itself there. 

“but of course. i will sympathize with you, for solidarity’s sake. we’re both doing things we’d rather not be doing.”

you walk past him, moving for the door. 

you raise your hand, touching the corner of the folding screen. you try not to think about how it would feel to punch a hole through it.

“i’ll see you for the betrothal ceremony,” you say. you turn to him, and you think you must be the picture-perfect appearance of a vengeful, resentful spirit. “but don’t you dare ever sympathize with me again.”

[confused-simp-jpg]

(boy)friend

Pairing: holland!Peter Parker / reader

(no pronouns used for reader as far as I know)

Warnings: brief mention of bullying (and a shitty ending cause I suck at writing those)

General Plot: You are on a quest to befriend your awkward schoolmate and find that you might become something a little more

Genre:                fluff

Words:               1.2k

A/N: Honestly, I just wanted to try posting on here for the first time so I put together a little fanfic, so it might not be the most well written and thought out story, so please excuse all the plot holes and poor writing.

masterlist

A new schoolyear had begun and like every year you had devoted yourself to making a new friend. Having been the quiet kid with no friends you had decided to overcome your fear of talking to new people and after finding a great group of friends you started to look for new additions to said group every year.

At the end of last school year, you had noticed a small duo, a cute brunette and his best friend, you’d never see one without the other. But recently you had picked up on the near constant flow of bullying directed at the two by a kid named flash.

Truth be told you always were the kind of person to search for the good in someone even if they were being an asshole and it’s not like you thought Flash was the scum of the earth or something like that he just had the sort of personality most people perceived as arrogant, annoying and overall disgusting, their words not yours, although you had to agree. He was by no means an evil person per se he just seemed to lack basic human decency in its entirety.

So when you became aware of the two victims of Flash’s idiocy and their almost unbothered attitude towards him, you decided to get to know them a bit better in hopes of befriending them.

It was Monday where you had an irregular lunch break at a time no one else did, when you saw your opportunity.

“Hey… is this seat taken?”, you smiled down at the completely surprised brunette.

“Uh…yeah… I mean no… I mean you can sit…if you want obviously”, he stuttered out, stumbling over his words and trying his best to keep his voice from completely giving out.

You giggled and sat down:

“Thanks, I was worried I wouldn’t find a good seat anymore, I’m Y/N btw”

“I’m Peter”, a soft blush adorned his cheeks.

Peter looked around in the mostly empty cafeteria and his brows furrowed slightly:

“Uhm, you know there are like a lot of free tables. Not that I want you to leave but… you know?”, he hesitantly brought up.

You looked up at him a smile tugging at the corners of your lips and answered:

“Yeah, but it’s not a good lunch seat when you sit alone isn’t it?”

“…I guess…yeah”

There was a bit of comfortable silence between you before you spoke up again.

“You’re not usually alone here right? I think every time I’ve seen you he was right next to you”, you chuckled

He seemed a bit caught off guard by you breaking the silence but recovered fast.

“Yeah, Ned wasn’t feeling all too well today, so he stayed home and left me alone here.”, Peter said jokingly.

“Oh, tell him I hope he feels better soon then, he seems like a nice dude when he’s not abandoning you.”

Talking about his friend came easier to Peter than small talk and the conversation flowed seamlessly from how Ned had ‘abandoned’ him to what things they got up to recently.

In turn you shared some stories from you and your friends taking the opportunity to invite him and Ned to come along with you to the arcade at the end of the week.

Although hesitant at first, with a bit of convincing he agreed to meet the following Friday.

Your talk with Peter in the cafeteria had not been the last time the two of you had interacted and every conversation with him made you more excited for the next.

Peter really was such a sweet soul and hanging out with him always felt comfortable.

Friday rolled around and you were waiting on your friends and Peter in front of the arcade. It was a common occurrence for them to be late so when a out of breath Peter ran up to you and started to apologize profusely you just smiled and reassured him that he was fine.

You noticed Ned wasn’t with him and when asked about it, Peter explained that he still wasn’t feeling better.

Slowly but surely the rest of the group came by as well and soon enough everyone was present.

The entire afternoon went by in a haze filled with laughter, everyone enjoying themselves and even though Peter was a bit shy at first, he fit right in, and everyone welcomed him with open arms.

Even without really noticing or intending on it, you and Peter stayed close and stole innocent touches here and there along with soft looks.

Unbeknownst to you your friends had noticed the fact that you and Peter seemed joined at the hip and shared smiles about the clear interest both of you displayed for the other.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and were met with one of your closest friends MJ, who led you away from the group.

“Can you two go on a date without us? It’s getting a bit pathetic with the way he’s looking at you.”, she deadpanned, catching you off guard. Your mouth dropped open and blood rushed to your face.

“What?”, a confused chuckle escaped your throat.

“Come on Y/N, you two are clearly interested in each other. Everyone has noticed at this point. So just tell him and get on with it!”

MJ never was the kind of best friend who talked to you about relationships unprompted, you loved to tell her about crushes and troubles simply because of her objective and brutally honest advice and comments, but she never started these types of conversations so this was new.

“MJ, he’s sweet sure but I’ve only known him for a week and yeah of course I like him but calling it a crush would be a bit rushed don’t you think?”, you smiled at her.

“Obviously, but I’m just saying, you two have been smiling at each other so much even I felt giddy” MJ shuddered overdramatically

You laughed and hugged her. “Oh MJ, I love you so so much”

MJ scrunched up her face and awkwardly hugged you back, never having been much of a physical touch kind of person but tolerating it for you.

The two of you returned to the group and the afternoon continued without another hitch although you were more and more aware of the shy smiles shared between you and Peter.

At first the two of you were shy and awkward on dates but once you got more comfortable with eachother you shared inside jokes and and started teasing eaxhother playfully.  

A few months after the arcade meet up which were filled with almost daily texts and constant talking, Peter awkwardly asked:

“ So… are we…are you…I mean, am I your…”

His stressed expression and the more and more panicked waving of his hands had you chuckling slightly once you realized what exactly he was trying to ask of you.

“I think we are and I am and you are. If you want to that is”, you answered with a soft smile, your hand ever so slightly reaching for his.

Relief washed over Peter and you thought to yourself, how bad he was at hiding his true feelings, it felt like you could read him like an open book, like he couldn’t possibly have secrets that you didn’t know about with how open he seemed.

“Thank god!”, Peter exclaimed and engulfed your hand in his, tugging you along to his home for the movie night you had planned.

[ccycloneblogging]

Try not to be gay challenge: Imposible

You're absolutely right. No one on this blog is straight. Not you, not me, and certainly none of the Toons.

Speaking of! Now's a good opportunity for their sexualities head canons.

DogDay: Pansexual, Male

While this boy collects crushes like no other, he has two major things he looks for in a partner.

Soft hearts and a great laugh.

Meet those requirements and you'll never be rid of him.

CatNap: Demisexual, Non-binary (He/They)

Pretty sure he's moronsexual though

He seems to prefer men, but who knows?

Once he's gotten close to you - enough to show his trust? He's going to be smitten.

Bubba: Asexual, Biromantic, Male

Maybe one day this elephant will find someone he can happily debate - even if it's over dumb things.

For now, he's perfectly fine on his own. He doesn't feel like he needs a partner - but he's also not going to pass up on opportunity to see where things go.

Unless Toon DD is involved. Hard pass.

Kickin': Bisexual, Trans Male

He's not exactly looking for a partner. If asked, he'd claim he'd simply never find anyone who is as awesome as he is.

He seems to have a soft spot for a certain cat too... How interesting.

He prefers to just ignore his real name, happily taking whatever nicknames given to him.

Bobby: Pansexual, Gender fluid (Prefers She/Her)

Like Toon DogDay, she is in love with all of the other toons. However, unlike him, she knows how to handle it.

She can and will change her pronouns and appearance to match her mood. She/her is just her main preference.

She's already taken by Hoppy. There's no way Bobby would consider adding in someone else.

Hoppy: Lesbian, Trans Female

She's hopeless with flirting and romance. The absolute worst at it, as she melts with every single flirt from a pretty woman.

Hoppy is far from girly, but she's comfortable exactly where she is.

Crafty: Asexual, Questioning, Female

She's shy. Too shy to really go out there and flirt with others... She also doesn't feel attraction to others often. It's quite rare.

Any flirting with her either goes right over her head or she just becomes too much of a flustered mess and runs off.

All she really knows is that she wants a partner, but she's just unsure about any preferences.

Picky: Bisexual, Female

She loves to flirt - so long as she's the one in control of the conversation. She can and will turn things in her favor.

She has a massive crush on a certain elephant - one who's happened to be her good friend while growing up... However, it sadly seems one-sided.

She doesn't have any real preference about partners beyond that.

[rookieloveskashi]

The Sensei & The Ramen Girl

Chapter 1: Prologue

Part of the For Your Own Good Series ↳ Next Chapter

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, meetcute, mutual pining. self-ship coded; please see author's note on series page for defined characteristics of reader.

Word Count: 1.1k

Work Summary: After nearly a decade in the ANBU, Kakashi is now sensei to a trio of spirited genin. He never saw himself as the role-model type, but a few months with the new Squad Seven begin to lead him further down a new path of life.

Read on AO3

“Hey, Sensei!!?” Naruto’s shrill voice cut through the trees that zipped by as Squad Seven made their way home. “Can we please go for ramen once we get back to the village? Please please please please please!?”

“Oh shut up Naruto!” Sakura whined. “If you keep annoying him, Kakashi-sensei won’t take us anywhere!”

“Idiot,” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

The mission they just completed may have just been another lowly D-rank, but Kakashi recognized the importance of positive reinforcement. Ever since their shaky victory in the Land of Waves, Naruto had been whining day in and day out, refusing to understand why the team was back to performing low-risk missions. If ramen was all it took to shut him up for a while, Kakashi was all for it.

“Now now,” Kakashi began. “After we give our report to the Hokage, I see no reason why you three can’t go to Ichiraku.”

“No, I meant the four of us!” Naruto shouted.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Since when does Kakashi-sensei ever go out with us?

“Since when do any of us do anything besides missions together?” Sasuke scoffed.

“And training!” Naruto added.

“That doesn’t count either.”

Kakashi sighed. While it was true that Squad Seven’s teamwork had improved since the earliest days, they still had a long way to go. As harrowing as their time in the Land of Waves had been, it had forced the genin to not only work together but to begin to trust one another. However, in the short time that had passed since that mission ended, the squad dynamic was already regressing.

He supposed he’d better take advantage of the opportunity while he had it.

“You make a good point, Sasuke,” Kakashi noted. “We really don’t spend much time together as a team, other than when we are training or called on missions.”

“And Asuma-sensei takes his team out for barbeque all the time!” Naruto whined.

“Wait, what are you saying, Sensei?” Sakura asked.

“Maybe we should all go for ramen after we give our report,” Kakashi suggested. “It would be a good opportunity to spend some time together in a more peaceful setting. Usually, you’re all so concerned with competing against one another, but not improving your teamwork. It might be nice to just have a meal together, share a little conversation.”

He hadn’t planned on spending the afternoon anywhere other than home, but this seemed like one of those times he would have to put his own preferences aside for the good of the team. Lead by example, and all that.

Sasuke groaned. “Do we have to?”

“ALRIGHT!” Naruto cheered. “Let’s go turn in our report, and then Sensei will treat us to Ichiraku as a team, as a reward for a job well done. Believe it!”

“Wait, I never said—”

“THIS IS GOING TO BE GREAT! I’M GONNA GET ROAST PORK AND EXTRA EGG!”

⁂

“Y/N!” your sister shouted. “We need you out here!”

“One second!” you called to the front of Ichiraku. “I’m just trying to figure out how many eggs we’ll need—”

“The eggs can wait!” your father’s voice carried to the stock area.

“Seriously Y/N!” Ayame bellowed again.

You huffed, blowing a tuft of hair from your face and rolling your eyes. “Coming!” Now watch me forget to finish the inventory on eggs, and when we run out, whose fault will it be? Mine.

You grabbed your apron from the wall, securing it behind your back quickly before tying your hair back with a dark green scrunchie. You speared your pen through your hair and hustled through the banner, joining your father and sister in the front of house. Judging by the crowd, you considered that maybe you’d been too hasty with your eye-roll.

“And she graces us with her presence!” Ayame bowed dramatically.

No, the eye-roll was definitely appropriate.

“Where do you want me to start?” you asked.

“Take more orders,” your father answered. “The pork will be ready to slice in three minutes, and we can clear this little backup. By then, we’ll be ready for the next batch.”

“Got it.”

Ichiraku Ramen was a family establishment; founded by your father nearly three decades ago. Business grew even quicker than your family did, and as a result, you and your younger sister Ayame had been raised almost exclusively within the shop. Your father had trained you both in nearly every aspect of the business. Whether it was for the best or not, you and Ayame found yourselves taking to completely opposite aspects of running a ramen shop. She stayed by your father’s side as the face of Ichiraku; prepping and cooking the day away. She turned out to be just as good a chef as your old man, and she truly loved every minute of her long days spent cooking for hours and hours on end. What she lacked, though, was the patience to organize the stock, keep inventory, or tidy up after herself. That was where you came in.

Your time was mostly spent in the back of the shop, worrying over the boring details that actually made the place run. You were always looking into the future, wondering if you should remove a less popular dish from the menu to reduce costs, or calculating whether or not your current supply of scallions would see you through the dinner rush.

Ayame was more likely to worry about whatever was right in front of her. So when she got overwhelmed, it was your job to dig her out of the hole. At least until she eventually got used to juggling both cooking and taking customers’ orders.

You didn’t mind, though. For the most part, bailing your sister out still played to your strengths. There was just something about taking an entire crowd of people and organizing them into groups ready to be fed, both takeout and dine-in. And you could do it all armed with only your pen and paper, not sweating over boiling water and steaming meat.

Not to mention, taking orders let you get your fill of social interaction, and had allowed you to meet some of your favorite people in the world.

“Naruto Uzumaki,” you smiled, seeing that familiar bright yellow hair reach the front of the line. “What can I get my favorite customer today?”

► masterlist

[emswritingsstuff]

Pink Lighter (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Summary: While on a watch with Daryl, you offer to light his cigarette. Small embarrassment ensues. Just a silly drabble!

Warning: Smoking cigarettes (Daryl)

WC: 779

--

The wind sent small chills down your spine, the watchtower not proving to be any kind of shield from the outside air. Taking watch at night wasn’t your most favorite job here, but it flew by depending on who you were with. 

But not tonight though, tonight you were with Daryl. And it could not be any quieter and boring. Nothing against the guy, but you both were different people and had nothing to really chat about. It also didn’t help that he wasn't super talkative in the first place. You could maybe count on one hand how many full conversations you had with him, and you’ve known him since the Quarry. 

He’s never been mean to you, sure he had his moments were was a dick, but was never direct. His company was appreciated though, you weren’t sure what it was about him but you felt safe. Like if anything were to happen, he’d get you both out of it no problem. It's what you liked about him. 

In the midst of your thoughts, you were brought back down with deep grumbles next to you. You look over to see Daryl with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, flicking his lighter but no flame erupting. He angrily flipped the zippos lid down and stuffed it back in his pocket. When going to take the cigarette out of his mouth, you’d remembered the pink BIC lighter you had found on a run. You had never really used a lighter before, but it can’t be super difficult right? 

“Here,” you held the lighter down under his cigarette and he quickly turned to you, giving you both less space so you don’t have to stretch as much. Attempting to flick the lighter a few times, nothing happened. Were you doing something wrong? Probably. 

Retracting the lighter back, you flicked it a few more times before looking back up at Daryl. “Sorry, let me just, uh, give this to you,” obviously embarrassed, you had gotten a tiny laugh out of him, which was a massive win to you. He took the lighter out of your hands and made quick work of lighting the cigarette and handing the lighter back. “Tha’ was adorable,” he said after taking a drag and blowing it out. 

Great, now you feel even more embarrassed. Quickly looking away as you stuffed the lighter that had proven to be useless to you at least. “Don’t ever bring this up again, I’m beyond embarrassed.” He laughed again and patted your back, he did the zipped lip motion and proceeded to focus back on his cigarette. 

Time passed and the silence was more comfortable than it was before, you had no clue when the shift was set to end, but part of you wished it wouldn’t end. It was kind of fun being with him tonight.

You had felt a tap on your shoulder, and you looked over to Daryl, with another cigarette in his mouth. You knew what he wanted so you quickly handed him the lighter. A ‘thanks’ was mumbled as he lit it and handed the lighter back. 

As he smoked, he spoke up for the first time in a while “Why do ya even have tha’?” he gestured to the lighter still in your hand. You looked at it and cleared your throat to speak. “Found it a while back, figured it could be useful for at least something. Or to actually have light when people ask for one.” All Daryl could do was chuckle at your reasoning, it was understandable. But it was dorky, in a good way that is.

“Well ya gotta learn to actually light it,” You rolled your eyes and nodded, “Yeah I know, just never had the opportunity.” He tilted his head, showing he understood. Daryl barely knew about your past before the end, but he knew you didn’t seem like the type to smoke or light random fires. 

Flicking sounds of the lighter filled the room after he’d finished speaking. You were determined to figure this out, and after about 20 flicks later. The orange glow of the flame casted over your face. Overjoyed you jumped up and cheered, probably looking crazy to someone looking into the watchtower. All Daryl could do was smile at your behavior. 

“Look at that! I did it! Finally!” You lit the flame again and pointed at it, showing it off like crazy. “Proud of ya,” Daryl said, genuinely, as he rubbed your shoulder. 

Time had come for your shift to be over, as you both walked to your respective cells Daryl pulled out one last cigarette and gestured you over to him. “Gimme a light?” 

You laughed and happily did so for him.

--

Note: Based off an actual experience I had not knowing how to use a BIC lighter in front of my sculpture professor. I think about it all the time. hashtag humbled. Also, sorry if I barely conveyed Daryl's accent, I struggle w that, but this is all for fun lol!

[howlingday]

Keep Nora safe, and escort her to the destination!

Nora: OH MY GOD, JAUNE, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! HELP ME! OH, THEY'RE COMING!

Jaune: (Sighs)

Nora: OH, I'M GONNA DIE!

Jaune: I've had a really long day...

Nora: OH MY GOD, HE- Oh, he's not actually doing anything.

Ruby: I think they're just vibing. I think these Grimm are chill.

Grimm: I JUST WANT TO GROOVE.

Grimm: I WAS DESGINED TO DESTROY, BUT I WANT TO DANCE.

Nora: Jaune, you should split them in half with your barrier grenades~.

Jaune: Okay. Here I go. Wow. (Shoots w/ gun)

Nora: I write a lot of fan fic about so I- I know. I know what's up.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: That's maybe something you shouldn't tell someone.

Nora: Nah, I don't care.

Ruby: Not something you shouldn't do, just something you shouldn't tell someone.

Nora: I'm cringe, but I'm free, Jaune. I'm free!

Jaune: Well... I can't argue with that.

Nora: I'm free tonight, you should hit me up~.

Jaune: I'm actually, I think I've got a thing later-

Nora: Oh, can I go? I love things~!

Jaune: No, it's, like, a work thing.

Nora: I mean, you can work me~.

Jaune: Ah... Well... Um... I... Hah... Uh... I appreciate it, but I just-

Nora: Well, if you appreciate it, then let's go! If you appreciate it so much, then let's go on a date right now~! What's the big deal?

Jaune: Look, you seem really nice...

Nora: Uh-huh! And persistent! You should go on a date with me right now!

Jaune: I- I-

Nora: Like, RIGHT NOW! You know what? We're now on a date right now! This is a date! Oh my god, I love watching my boyfriend killing people! It's great~!

Ruby: It sucks...

Jaune: (Taps Ren's shoulder) Hey, what do I do?

Ren: Oh, that's Nora. She grips the balls of any man she sees and doesn't let go until they die. Good luck!

Jaune: OH NO...

Ren: SHE WASN'T TALKING TO YOU, WAS SHE?!

Jaune: I don't- Um... Uh...

Nora: Jaune, could you put this collar on?

Jaune: I mean, I don't think, I...

Jaune: The Grimm is standing between me and her. Maybe I could use this opportunity to escape.

Jaune: (Tackles, Crushes self and Grimm)

Ren: Did he just kill himself with the Grimm?

Ruby: He sure did. He mixed himself.

Nora: No! My boyfriend! He's goooooone~!

Salem: (Snatches up Nora)

Jaune: ...

YEAH~!

Jaune: (Dances)

Ren: Gap tbh

Ruby: Fuck you!

Ren: Oh, I thought he'd take good care of her...

Jaune: Bro, what about me?!

Ren: Oh, the misery...

Ruby: Honestly, she was a menace on society, so I'm not really all that upset over this.

[reineydraws]

Hey Reiney! i've been following your Renkaza comic for some time now and it's kind of gotten me into the ship. Would you happen to have any fic recs to get me started?

im so honoured my comic got u into the ship! (@sshcomic for those who don't know! 🫶) i love giving out fic recs omg thank u so much for asking!!!! i have 15 for ya haha.

i'll have specific recs under the cut, but first i wanna just say that anything by emilieee @e-milieeee ; dragonsandcryptids @lesbiansanemi ; and tippertupper are great places to start! they're amazing writers with a good body of work and i've definitely gone through a lot--if not all--of their renkaza stuff! please check them out!

word count is rounded to nearest thousand btw! :) smoke and mirrors + demon's choice are big inspirations for my comic, if ur coming from there!

i've also realized these can be pretty lengthy so if u want recs with shorter word counts just lmk and i'll comb through my bookmarks for <15k. but anyways!

Smoke and Mirrors by emilieee (272k)

canon happens in modern times au, where akaza ends up as kyo's apartment neighbour, tho kyo doesn't initially realize akaza's a demon. it's emotional! it's plotty! akaza mentions kokushibo made all the kizuki's fake id's and i still think that's hilarious! it's got one of my fave enemies to besties akaza & shinobu plots ever! please read this!!!

last sunrise by DragonsAndCryptids (182k)

akaza turns kyojuro by accident bc he bleeds too much into kyo's open wounds during the mugen train fight, and neither notice until it's too late. shinobu notices too and decides perhaps that this might be a prime research opportunity... uh-oh! the ethical quandries are good in this, and shinobu while flawed is very well-written. renkaza also end up with a soul bond. another emotional one but god is the journey amazing. tw for some torture scenes that could be graphic.

Small Fire of Winter Stars by phabulousphantom (66k)

modern au where akaza is a tattoo artist and kyo runs a teens program at the local community centre. it's one of my faves bc i just love stories about jaded people opening up and finding love and trust again, and this is exactly that. i also love the ensemble cast in it. the teenagers are adorable, especially inosuke who is a problem kid that finds something aspirational with akaza. thinking abt this fic is making me smile again!

Camp Kasugai by si1verbird77 (20k)

also modern au where renkaza are both counselors at a summer camp. kyo runs a percy jackson program, and he and akaza fall in love over the summer with the help of the deep trust that camp atmospheres usually end up fostering. kyo and sen, and akaza as well, also touch on the grief of losing parents, and the nature of camps as a place to grow into yourself and how time keeps moving. it's nice. i love this one a lot.

Inertia (series) by TipperTupper (23k)

akaza saves kyo from freezing to death, and kyo marvels at the compassion and humanity that akaza seems to hold in his muscle memory. ends up digging a little bit into akaza's trauma both as a human and as a demon controlled by muzan. sanemi gets a little mad about it in the third part and it's funny. overall vibe of the series is warm.

The Neverending Night by apodis (155k - incomplete)

when i say this fic rotates in my brain 24/7!!! akaza gets stuck in a time loop that resets every time kyo dies. it explores akaza's nature as someone who is willing to sacrifice everything for loved ones, and it's interesting bc at first kyo hates him, and then he starts to realize there's something wrong with akaza's memories bc of muzan, and he starts to really see how self-effacing akaza is. it's SO good, and the realizations both kyo and you as the reader have build and layer as the story progresses. akaza and kaname (kyo's crow) also build a friendship that is so important to me.

Demon's Choice by Celeste Gladnick (lairMorbidon) (69k - incomplete)

akaza defects early and joins tamayo, and so many more people are alive as a result. kyo in this one is interesting bc he's bigoted against demons thanks to his upbringing in a slayer family under abusive shinjuro, and refuses to see that akaza is anything other than dangerous, despite literally everyone else sticking up for him. extra fun bc he crushes on butterfly assistant hakuji without realizing that it's akaza in a human guise. akaza himself also has some deeply held trauma he doesnt quite realize he has.

what i wouldn't give by DragonsAndCryptids (59k)

senjuro becomes terminally ill and his end is fast-approaching. akaza, who's been bothering kyo on and off for two years since mugen train, hears about it and offers to help by turning sen into a demon. at first, kyo gives a hard no, but as his baby brother's illness progresses... well, anyone would get a little desperate, wouldn't they? love this bc one of my fave things abt renkaza is pushing kyo to his moral and ethical limit lol.

if you fly (say you won’t come back) by apodis (10k)

siren au! well, akaza's a siren, and kyo is the caretaker of a house that sees many different travelers. akaza's just the latest one. i love this one bc it's fantastical elements are wonderful, and it builds a very interesting world. as the reader, you have a lot of questions and it's an experience getting them answered. it's also prettily written. :)

Little Fighter Boy Comes Marching Home by VTheTrashKing (19k)

akaza gets de-aged by a demon's blood art, and kyo comes upon a little human boy with black hair and blue eyes, a chip on his shoulder and a very implicitly sad past, what with the criminal markings on his wrists and the way he insists he can take care of himself. another one of my fave renkaza things and kyo getting bowled over by hakuji's tragic story so i loved the way he puzzles it together in this one based on the little boy in front of him, and just finds one sad thing after another.

“Don’t die, Kyojuro” by Lenasaurous (24k)

akaza lets kyo live and often tells him not to die. kyo, who's life is often visited by death considering his occupation, begins to rely on akaza's immortality as a demon, and depend on his company as a constant--that is, until akaza passes out from not eating, and stays down for the count. uh-oh. (i also love this fic 'cuz there's this scene where akaza tries so hard to make kyo like him by giving him herbs and helpful plants, even tho kyo doesn't really want him around at that point, and it's so sweet and so sad. i wanna give him a hug!!!)

Memories behind broken glass by GammaRays (58k - incomplete)

this is the akaza whump fic of my dreams lol he gets captured and experimented on by shinobu (and it can be grisly so tw for that). kyo lured him into a trap to get him captured and ends up standing guard and starting to question his morals when it becomes clear that shinobu is being intentionally cruel. as the torture experiments go on, akaza also becomes so delirious that he begins to remember his human past. kyo loses it a little. it's good.

All the things a cup can hold by Liatheus (9k)

akaza takes shinjuro demon hunting lol. this is actually more of a shinjuro character study with side renkaza, but i love it specifically for a scene near the end where they all have tea, and ruka's empty place at the table feels obvious, and kyo and shinjuro are sort of crying about it. i also love that it explores the way shinjuro used to be a hashira, and how akaza investigates his strength in that sense. shinjuro's strength is an important aspect to kyojuro that doesn't often get delved into, and it makes sense to me that akaza sort of looks into it, as someone who loves kyo's strength.

Hello Again (the weight of memories welcome me home) by VTheTrashKing (15k)

this one's more artsy than anything but i love sci-fi as a genre so i'm reccing it lol i'm being self-indulgent. for whatever reason, throughout his life, akaza gets visited by various hashira. it's all very timey-wimey and the renkaza is more implied than anything, but there's this scene where akaza's being held trial at a hashira meeting, and then a future sanemi and future giyuu come out of nowhere to protect him and shock the living daylights out of their past selves, and it's so wild. i love it so much.

the milk incident by lattelesbean (4k)

this is just funny haha! short and fun read. modern soyama twins au where akaza's a café barista and accidentally puts his foot in his mouth in a very embarrassing way, bc he was too busy thirsting over kyo, his latest customer, to double-check what was about to come out of his mouth lol. i am still laughing.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Good Directions

From: Handiwork Series

Pairing: Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Curtis shows you a couple of his favorite spots around town.

Word count: 2,229

Content/warnings: Kissing, conversation, pet name usage, really not much else, a sprinkle of angst?

Author’s Note: Takes place directly after the last chapter, and then there are a few time skips, so it ends at the same place as YCMBWH ch. 8

All feedback is greatly appreciated. I love hearing back from you, even if it’s a keyboard smash. Thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

Cleaning up went relatively fast after Curtis stepped away. After you finished counting the drawer and wiping down the counters finally, you saw him leaning against the wooden frame, chatting with Edgar. As soon as you walked up to them, Edgar bid the two of you goodbye.

“Okay, cheese curd, ready to go?” He laughed as his cheeks flushed a little pink. He nodded, opening up the door for you and leading you out to his truck.

He helped you to hop up into the passenger seat before jogging over to his side to get in. You’ve never seen a man that big move so smoothly. It must be the farming, really. Man, you had wasted your time with those city boys. Once he was settled in and had started the car, he sat there, still for a second, before looking over to you.

“So, Cherry, have a good day at work?” It was as if he had just simply picked you up. Like this was something he’d done before and he planned to do way more in the future. You let out a giggle at his playfulness and nodded.

“Oh yeah, great day. There was this one guy who kept begging for my attention, though. But I guess it was alright, because his friend with the fancy credit card left me a huge tip.”

Curtis teasingly scoffed, but it morphed into a smile to which you returned a wink when he turned his whole body towards you in the bench seat, propping his arm up across the back of it. His body looked so big, taking up the truck cab like that, yet so inviting.

“So where to, Missy? I know a lot about you, but not exactly where you live.”

You nodded. “Oh, right. Yeah, start driving and I’ll direct you.”

You took the opportunity to slide in under his arm before he could to move it, as he shifted back to face forward. As you settled into his side, Curtis kept his eyes forward, but it was impossible to miss the way the corners of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparked as he took a deep breath, still otherwise unmoving for a second.

Curtis moved his arm anyway, just for a second, to shift the truck into gear, then put it right back to where it was around you, squeezing you closer than before and starting his drive.

Curtis insisted on walking you up to your apartment after the short drive, which seemed like no time at all with how easy it was to talk to him. He’d been so kind, and you know Edgar had been just as decent lately, but this seemed different. It seemed like…more.

When you got to the door, you turned around and were met with the view of Curtis with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly slouched forward.

As your eyes met, you could feel the tension in the air, not sure where to go next. Not sure if maybe he felt the same static around the moment as you. Perhaps he was just being nice with everything lately, and that’s how they simply were in small towns, but again, it felt like way more than that. Either way, the easy conversation somehow escaped you now as your eyes shifted between his. Before you could even help it, you blurted out, “Would you just kiss me?”

Your hands gripped the collar of his flannel shirt and Curtis was taken aback by your directness. Hell, you were, too. His brain was screaming out to him. If he would’ve been able to decipher the internal screeching and put it into words, he would’ve said something along the lines of “Of course, I’ve been waiting to since the night I met you,” but instead, the wiring to his mouth must’ve been cut, since all he produced was a, “What?”

You laughed and shook your head at his expression and inability to register your words, before worry began to seep in. “I’d like to think I’m reading this right and was hoping you’d confirm it? Would you ki-“

Curtis’s brain finally caught up from the lag, and he immediately leaned down and smashed his lips against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were the one wearing the brainless expression, eyes open and owlish at his confirmation of your feelings. You watched as his eyes slowly opened and a goofy smile came onto his face.

“I don’t think you read that wrong at all.” Curtis whispered between small pants.

“I, uh. I’ve got an early morning, but I enjoyed chatting with you tonight. I’d really like to see you again…maybe this coming week? Outside of your work and outside of the shop, you and me could do something?”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Yeah, I’d really like that. I’ll text you my schedule.”

You unclenched your hands from the fabric of his shirt and ran them down his chest. His oh-so-firm chest, before you realized maybe that was too far for tonight. You quickly moved your hands to be busy with something else, fishing for the doorknob behind you. “Good night, Curtis. Thank you for the ride.”

He simply nodded, watching you close the door and listening for the lock before turning on his heel and heading back to his car.

That week, Curtis kept his word. On Tuesday, he knew you had off work, so he surprised you by showing up at your door with a picnic basket in hand, only having given you about an hour of notice in advance, which was just enough time to get dressed and ready.

“Hey. I made us a little something. Wanna go for a ride?”

You nodded and grabbed his outstretched hand, heading out to his truck and hopping up. You could see the blankets in the truck bed already.

You watched the country roads and fields go by until Curtis pulled into a gorgeous meadow. The sun, low in the sky, was casting a reflective glow across the wildflowers and golden grasses.

Curtis put the truck in park and hopped down, reaching for you as you scooted across the bench seat and into his arms, where he helped you down. The calluses on his well-worked hands traced down your arms to grab your hands, sending a tingle through your body, as he led you to the tailgate. He helped you jump up before stepping up, himself, once again more gracefully than you would’ve expected for someone of his stature.

He laid out the blankets before helping you settle in to the laid out picnic.

It was a perfect date. After the meal, which was surprisingly good, you and Curtis just sat there, cuddled up in the corner of the bed, where you were squeezed in between his legs to watch the sunset. The warmth on your face mixed with that of his body behind you was comforting-almost too much.

You began to shift in his hold, the weight of everything kicking in. Maybe this was too much, too fast. You had just gotten here, the last thing you needed was to let yourself get sucked in, even if he was just so kind. Did you even know enough about him yet to say that?

Curtis took note of the change in the tone of the environment and moved around your side to look at you.

“Hey, everything alright?”

Sure, it was. You had been the one mostly pushing for things. You had been the one to kiss him, so why were you suddenly so on edge? You tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat before nodding.

“Uh, yeah. Just, um… this is really nice.”

Maybe the care he was showing was unlike what you were used to. Everywhere you went, it was just…you. But suddenly, someone else cared about what was going on in your life and made an effort to take part in it. You’re cleared your throat and attempted to clear the tears from your eyes before he could see them. You turned away from his knowing gaze and looked out towards the field.

“Everything’s really beautiful. Can you tell me about around here? I just wanna hear you talk.”

Curtis grabbed your hand with both of his, rubbing his thumbs along the back of it. He gave you a reassuring look and just simply a nod, leaning back once more and going through the history of the farm, what all the fields were used for, and the different animals, his deep voice lulling you back to a state of comfort. He told you about the old country store on the one corner, with an old Coca-Cola sign, and how his aunt used to make the best sweet tea. You settled back against his chest easily, taking in the warmth again, losing the sense of false alarm which threatened your enjoyment, and finally accepting the peace you thought you might find here.

After that night and the amount that Curtis opened up to you, seeing him was a much more regular occurrence, especially once you had gotten the call that the part for your truck came in. The repair took longer than anticipated, though, since Curtis had to be careful of the other parts of the engine with them all being so old. The wrong move could result in the necessity of ordering yet another part and essentially having to start the process over again. And as much as he would’ve liked to keep having reasons to talk to you, he wasn’t looking for more ways to dig into your pockets, or better yet, his since unbeknownst to you, he already had decided to comp this whole job.

The long-stretching work resulted in a few late nights of Curtis taking you back to the shop with him so he could show you the progress, teach you more about the other parts of the engine you weren’t as familiar with, and maybe kiss a little bit in the break room after he washed his hands for the day.

Some nights you’d snag him dinner from the bar and he’d drive you back out into the fields, instead, sharing snacks, and conversations, and a view of the unhindered stars that lit up and reflected in his eyes. He was made for here. He matched everything so perfectly, and you matched him.

Every so often, things would switch up, Curtis would sit with his head in your lap looking up at the sky while you told him stories of your travels, what life was like in various cities, and how all the people were different. Those places were never home, though. But this place felt like it, maybe he felt like it.

You ran your fingers through his cropped hair, staring up at the sky when he spoke up between your stories.

“So you remember my cousin? And Bucky?”

You hummed and nodded, tearing your eyes from the sky to look into Curtis’s and moved your hand from the top of his head to scratch through his beard.

“Well Bucky’s only got a few nights left in town, and I know you’ve got a day off coming up. I think we’re gonna have a bonfire. You wanna join?”

You thought for a second. This was essentially Curtis asking you to meet his family. If you hadn’t felt so secure with him, you would’ve hesitated, but there was no question and you’d take any opportunity to be with him and those he considered closest. They were funny from what you remember. Kind, polite, and seemed just as decent as him.

“Sounds good.”

The night of the bonfire was almost like any other time with you and Curtis. Warm, comfortable, enjoyable. Well, at least on your end.

You were sitting with your back up against Curtis, the bonfire smoke struggling to fight off the bugs, as you sensed something was off. Bucky and Bee sitting across from you seemed…sad. Like there was a cloud over their heads despite the wonderful weather lately.

You tried your best to make conversation and keep it. Maybe even avoiding the fact that you thought Bucky was simply a temporary farmhand, but now he seemed more like a boyfriend. Who were you to talk? Curtis was technically your mechanic. Your strong, smart mechanic who if you didn’t know better, you’d say was keeping your car for ransom so he could keep driving you places. Perhaps purposely walking through every repair step twice. That wasn’t the point right now, though, so you tried to talk to Bucky: the one who you’d heard less about.

He’d asked you what you thought of town, and if your time with Curtis was any indication, you loved it. So you asked him, as well. He seemed really locked in, like he wanted to stay forever, despite only being here temporarily as had been explained to you.

“But you’re not sticking around, right? Curtis told me this was one of your last nights in town.”

At that question, the already humid air thickened and you felt Curtis tense up behind you. Oh no, were you not supposed to say something about that? You tried to hold your expression in. Maybe if you didn’t acknowledge the discomfort, no one else would, but you heard Bucky’s quiet answer.

“Yeah.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: Did I write another truck bed date? Yes. And would I do it again? You can bet on it.

Taglist: @angelcavill66 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[cleaverqueer]

Feeling pretty confident that i can actually do this rn

[guinevereslancelot]

i'm so bummed i accidentally turned town a job interview for a job where I could have worked with a good friend and mentor 😔

[overbearingstruggles]

I really wanna understand your love for kieran culkin, I loved him in Scott Pilgrim.

Oh my god this is so nice you really don’t have to ask but I love that you did!!!!!!!!

I wish I had a less lizard brain answer to attribute the spark to but sometimes you need someone to do something sexual in order for your brain to unlock that interest in them and the Roman/Gerri phone scene takes the prize. When I rewatched the show I had zero recollection of the emotional scene that happens right after because apparently I blacked out lol. So then I’m watching the rest of the show through new eyes which of course leads to huh, I definitely love this character and am attracted to this being, but do I also love this person? Anon, he’s so lovable! The pro and con of Kieran & Roman is there is A Lot of Kieran in the character. Uh the best parts, we hope. He’s this secure short king with quick wit who talks fast and can require a bit of attention but is humble as heck about how good he is at his job and has this quirky decorated right appendage and isn’t afraid to crack jokes when someone broaches the subject of his irl family or politely shut them down when he thinks they’re off base about something. I love the little bit I know about him and his wife’s relationship and the way they can publicly poke fun at each other. I love that he lived in the same tiny apartment from 19 to 39 until his wife finally said “you’re on a hit TV show.” I love how sweet and diplomatic he is when someone tries to poke him about Jeremy Strong being weird. I swear you can feel interviewers become infatuated with him for being a real and funny, charming person. In conclusion, I think he's neat!

[scribblingface]

the fucked up thing about being chronically ill is just how often you feel like you're being left behind

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[basaltbutch]

ohhhhh i think . everything's gonna be alright forever.