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honeekyuu · 5 months ago

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genius. [akaashi keiji x f!reader] chapter one.

>>You struggle to pay rent on your limited graduate student salary, and your worst enemy agrees to help you out.

You realize you need to find a partner for your faceless porn account, and Akaashi Keiji is the only man who meets all your requirements.<<

series status: [ongoing]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: this series is going to be the death of me. im currently writing ch. 2, and the first scene (the first scene!!! of 9!!!!!) is 10k words. i wrote a 10k smut scene. :)))) im actively dying. please enjoy chapter 1!!!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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“ Shit, shit shit- ” You throw things all over the apartment, searching for your keys. The clock on the wall reads 10:55AM, flipping quickly to 10:56 and making you swear again. “ Fuck! Oh-” You snatch up your house keys with a victorious cheer and then immediately race for the door, your bag hauled over your shoulder on the way.

You turn the 30-minute bike ride to campus into 20 minutes, but that still gets you to the door of the Linguistics department by 11:15. You slam down on the elevator button repeatedly while you wait, glancing back at the rest of the lobby only when you hear someone call your name. It’s a student of yours, so you have to smile and wave back politely, even though all you want is to scream ‘ I’m so fucked! ’ into the void.

The elevator doors open, and you treat the buttons on the inside panel with the same cruelty, choosing to text your frustrations to Bokuto while you wait to arrive on the 5th floor.

[11:16 AM]

You: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Kou: OMG SAME

You: ?? whats wrong on your end

Kou: nothing why?

Kou: IS SOMETHING WRONG???

You snort, rolling your eyes.

You: late to my 11am

Kou: OH THE READING GROUP

Kou: which one is that??? Linguisticsomething of something something??

You: you know,,, there was no way to be wrong with that answer kou

Kou: :)))))

You: it’s LEM

Kou: LINGUISTICS AND EXPERIMENTAL METHODS

Kou: RIGHT

Kou: oh wait isnt that the one akaashis in?????

You: thats why im fucked

Kou: oh im sure he wont say anything

Kou: SAY HI FOR ME

The elevator opens, so you shove your phone away and race down the hall to the lab room. You skid to a stop in front of the door, taking a calming breath before pushing into the room as quietly as possible. A few people glance up from the round table in the center with small smiles before returning to the presentation on the screen, but you know well enough that you’re not in clear.

“-f it’s true then that case gets valued where base-generated, rather than at the landing site after Movement, we should see that these forms are nominative-marked. However, clearly, we get accusa-”

You take the seat closest to the door, and it creaks.

Akaashi Keiji’s eyes find yours.

You grimace openly at him, and he lifts an eyebrow, his finger still hovering over the example on the TV.

“Y/n. Would you like me to start over?”

You struggle not to roll your eyes at him, your face burning with embarrassment. “Of course not. Please, continue.”

“It might be helpful if I start over-”

“I don’t need the background on case valuation in Korean, Akaashi,” you snap. “We work on the same language.”

You watch his eyes harden. It’s only you that he looks at like that. He opens his mouth, but your advisor cuts in on your left.

“Okay, you two,” he says. “Let’s try not to kill each other today.”

You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, and meet Akaashi’s eyes evenly. He stares back blankly only a moment before returning to his presentation.

“So, we can see here that accusative-marked nominals are permitted, despite the prediction that only nominative is grammatical-”

You let out a quiet breath, trying to pay attention to his presentation – because, no doubt, he’d put you on the spot about it soon – while also recovering from the adrenaline rush of getting here. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you extract it subtly, glancing at the screen. There are two alerts.

Bank Account Balance (Oct. 10); $562.95

Rent Notification: Rent and Utilities; Payment ($1018.00) Due Nov. 1

Your heart sinks, a lump forming in your throat, and you shove your phone away, returning to Akaashi’s presentation. A coffee cup from the nearby cafe slides into your periphery, and you turn to see your advisor pushing it toward you silently, his own cup in front of him. He doesn’t look at you, but he does crack a tired smile.

“ Drink, ” he whispers. “ You’ve had a hard couple days. ”

You smile and bring the cup to your lips, ignoring when Akaashi glances at it and then between you and your advisor. It’s your regular order, and you’re immensely glad that most of your advisor meetings happen at coffee shops. You make it through Akaashi’s presentation with little issue – unsurprisingly for the department’s Golden Boy, his work is flawless. You agree with every argument he makes, every flaw he finds in the analyses of previous work.

So when he says “ Any questions?” in that polite, soft-spoken way of his, you’re prepared for the very few questions asked to be nothing more than clarification. No one has any comments about his thinking or his analysis, and no one challenges him. Because Akaashi Keiji is always right.

But you can also see that these questions don’t excite him. He answers each one nicely, nodding along and mumbling ‘ Yes, that’s right ’ or humming thoughtfully – as though he needs to think about it at all – and then shaking his head, clicking through his slide deck until he can point to something and correct someone’s thinking. But he looks a bit disappointed, like he’d been hoping for a bit more of a discussion. He even glances at your advisor hopefully – but your advisor is also his advisor, so why would he have any notes? He’s already pre-approved all of this.

Well, that’s what you get for being so smart, you think with a little bit of snark. Your advisor always preaches to the group that peer feedback creates room for improvement, but what’s Akaashi supposed to do when there’s no more room? He’s already the best.

He meets your eyes briefly, and you look away. You’re not going to give him what he wants.

“Okay, then,” he says after a moment, unplugging his laptop from the TV. “Thanks for listening – Y/n?” You pull your laptop from your bag, standing and rounding the table. You take the HDMI cord from him, slipping into the chair he’d occupied. He takes yours, careful not to touch your things. You sigh softly and then smile at the rest of your reading group.

“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.” You gesture to the TV, your slide deck open. “So, if you were here for my most recent project, you know that I got some interesting results and will be broadening the scope in order to explore them for my dissertation.”

You launch into your presentation, the material so familiar to you that you don’t have to think about what to say. Your second major project had wrapped up last year, your name sitting on a journal article set to print at the end of the month. You’d gotten a number of reviewers asking similar questions, all related to the experimental results of one of your tasks, so you and your advisor had decided that, for the dissertation, you would be increasing the technical difficulty and redoing the experiment with new materials and a more rigorous theoretical analysis.

You present this to the group, outlining your idea and the changes you’d be making to the original project in order to answer the open questions left by your reviewers. By the end of your 20-minute slot, you’ve got most of the group nodding along in agreement.

Most of the group.

You do your best not to look at him, but you can still see Akaashi sitting there with his arms folded in his lap, his expression void of everything. His eyes skim your slides, unreactive, and you just know that you’re in for it.

“Okay-” you sigh, clapping your hands on your knees. “That’s it. Thoughts?”

Your advisor lifts his brows, a smile tugging at his lips, and you know he’s thinking the same thing.

Just the grilling of a lifetime incoming .

There’s silence for a while, everyone trying and failing not to look at Akaashi, because they know how this will go. And then his lips part, a soft breath taken.

“Can I… ask a few questions?” He starts gentle, the way he always does. He fools everyone into thinking he’s sweet and soft and careful, but you know better. You know that, if you were anyone else, he wouldn’t have started like that. He would have complimented their work first, noted the things he thought they’d done well.

You’ve never heard a compliment from Akaashi Keiji in the five years you’ve known him.

“Of course,” You sigh. Some snickers pass through the group.

“How do you know that this will tell you anything at all?”

He doesn’t hold back – you’ll give him that.

“Sorry?”

“If your results indicate a misalignment between the production of this ambiguous form and the comprehension of it, why are you using eye-tracking to test only comprehension? Where’s your production gone?”

You inhale slowly, flicking back through the slides. “Like I said before, there are two possibilities for why this form was over-produced and under-accepted by participants. Either they are operating within their grammar and just attaching an emphatic element to a different word, resulting in a homophone with the ambiguous form I’m interested in-” You flick through more slides. “Or they’re operating outside of their grammar, in which case there are discourse factors at play.”

You meet his eyes with a tight smile, trying to remain polite. “Running an eye-tracking task with comprehension will let me see, in real time and without metalinguistic interference, if they accept this form in situations that should be ungrammatical. If they don’t, then these results are due to emphatic attachment and that’s that. If they do, then..” You shrug. “There’s more to be done. But my point is that production wouldn’t be necessary here. I have what I need.”

The group all shift their eyes from you to him in an instant, waiting for the tennis match to start. Akaashi only meets your gaze for a moment and then nods, and you feel mildly victorious at having won this interaction. But you swallow it down, because he’s opening his mouth again.

“And what about case?”

You almost roll your eyes. “What about it?”

“What analysis are you adopting?”

“I’m only using accusative-marked forms for this experiment,” you say. “The object of the embedded clause is the position I need. I’m not adopting competing analyses.”

“But there are other ways to mark case on these forms – as I’m sure you’re aware.” His gaze narrows at you when he says it, and you know he’s getting back at you now for your comment earlier. “What about those?”

“I’m not interested in them-”

“ Right ,” he bites. “I understand that. But what are the case alternations available?”

It takes a special kind of person to draw Akaashi Keiji’s patience short, and you’re happy to be that person every single time. You have to purse your lips not to smile, because there’s a little piece of you that finds it funny to draw out that twitch in his eyebrow that no one else claims to have ever seen.

“Genitive and nominative, and dative under restricted circumstances.”

He lifts his brows at you. “So pretty much all of them.”

You nod simply. “But using pretty much all of them means I’d have to change the structure of the sentence for each type. It’s not a simple swap.”

“Then do it.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your eyebrows in disbelief.

He shrugs. “Your results could be due to any of the things you’ve talked about. Or they could be due to this form being preferred with different case markers in different situations. You could be getting low acceptability because of the case, rather than what you’re interested in.”

You just stare. “That’s, like, four dissertations, Akaashi.”

His eyes have flattened out again. “Then maybe you should have done it right the first time.”

“ Okay ,” your advisor says, clapping his hands. “Hour’s up. Let’s thank Keiji and Y/n for their time.”

Your eyes stay locked on Akaashi’s while the room clears out, both knowing that you’re not allowed to go anywhere. You get a couple ‘ good job ’s from the people leaving, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact first. In fact, it only serves to irritate you more – why is it only you that gets those reassuring comments? Why don’t people tell Akaashi that he’s doing well? Do they think you need it? Does everyone think you need it more than he does?

“Alright,” your advisor breathes, shutting the door again and turning toward you. “Oh-Come on, you two.”

You break first, dipping your head and turning to unplug your laptop from the TV.

“That was good, both of you.” Your advisor cuts a glance at Akaashi as he sits. “A little harsh there, but-”

“Sorry,” He mumbles, immediately deferent. But you know he’s not apologizing to you, and that makes you finally roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay,” your advisor laughs, taking his coffee and sipping at it. “Let’s just finish this up so I can get away from all this hostility.”

The meeting ends quickly, the three of you just summarizing thoughts and future steps for each of your projects. Akaashi purses his lips when you speak about your plans, but he doesn’t push at you any further.

Finally, you’re able to leave, so you gather your things quickly and bolt for the door. Unfortunately, your office is directly across from Akaashi’s, so the walk down the hall is spent with him on your heels.

“It’s not four dissertations, by the way,” he says as soon as your advisor’s out of earshot. “Just redesign your materials to include the case alternations, and you’ll get something interesting.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, not stopping your march down the hall. “I’ve already designed the eye-tracking materials, Akaashi. It’ll take me weeks to redo them for case.”

“Then take the weeks ,” he argues, just as you’re both arriving to your respective doors. “Do you want to do it fast, or do you want to do it right?”

You whirl on him, your anger unfiltered now that you’re alone. “What would you know? You’ve never done the kind of research I have to do. You don’t know anything about psycholinguistics – you don’t know what goes into something like this. You just sit in your world of theory, without ever thinking about the practical applications. You might be right about everything all the time, Akaashi, but I’m the one who has to take those theories and do something with them.”

He stares back emptily while you rant, and then he leans in close, his eyebrows lifting as his voice drops. “Are you really going to be okay not including the case alternations? Now that I’ve brought it up?” When you only sigh heatedly through your nose, glaring up at him, he shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” Then he turns to his office door, slotting the key in the lock while mumbling to you. “You’re a lot of things, Y/n, but you’re not lazy.”

You stare at his office door long after it’s been shut.

You really hate Akaashi Keiji.

–

“I dunno, Kou, I’m not sure what to do,” you sigh, running a finger along the rim of your coffee cup. It’s the same from earlier, because you don’t have the money to buy another and because drinking it slowly helps to stave off your hunger. You’d been too rushed for lunch before leaving home, but you know dinner’s only four hours away. You can last until then.

“Well-” Bokuto talks through a mouth full of food. “-is it gonna bug you to not do it?”

“ Yes ,” you admit a little grumpily. “Of course it is. But I don’t have the time – I wanted to have pilot data for the experiment by the end of October.”

“What would happen if you pushed it back a few weeks?” He asks loudly, spooning more food into his mouth before he’s even done eating the first mouthful.

“I don’t know. It would just push my whole timeline back, and I’d graduate later than expected, and I’m already losing my mind. I need a job , Kou – I can’t live on grad student wages much longer.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” he nods, pulling more food out of his backpack. “But at least you’re still splitting that nice apartment with your roommate! $500 a month is so nice.”

You stare down at your lukewarm coffee.

You haven’t exactly mentioned to him or your other friends that your roommate had moved out. She hadn’t left for anything negative – in fact, she’s a good friend of yours. The two of you had posted in the graduate students’ forum over the summer before your first year, each requesting roommates, and you’d paired up nicely. Your personalities had gone together well, and you’d stayed roommates the entirety of grad school. But she’d had to go home suddenly, which was fine for her because she’s finishing up her dissertation and doesn’t need to be on campus.

However, that does leave you without a roommate in the middle of the semester. There’s a fee for you to break your lease early, and it would overall be way more expensive for you to move out, especially in the middle of October. But paying over $1000 on your own, with your limited salary, is extremely difficult.

You’d looked for another roommate, but there aren’t any grad students without housing this late in the year – the only people you’d seen posting on the university Facebook page about housing had been undergrads, and you’re certainly not comfortable with that. So, you’d looked for extra jobs, but your student contract only allows you to be employed a certain amount, and you’d already reached the maximum. Your advisor had told you as much, shaking his head regretfully when you’d all but begged for extra hours in his lab. You’d even tried finding jobs outside of the university, but most of them had asked for a consistent work schedule and more hours than you can afford to give.

Which might be why you’d decided to turn to making adult content online.

You’re not particularly attached to the idea of being a porn star, but you’d seen a video online talking about the amount of money that adult content creators can make even from a single video, and you’d made an account without giving yourself time to think about it. You’d taken all the necessary precautions – things like always editing out your face and the singular tattoo you have on the inside of your ankle, or never displaying your background in a way that would be recognizable to someone who knows you. You really don’t need anyone finding out about this, especially not your friends.

You’re not sure that Kuroo would really care – the chemistry student’s nosy, sure, but he’s a big proponent of leaving people to their lives. And you know that Bokuto would probably find it interesting, but he’s got an objectively big mouth and little social control, so it would be a risk to tell him. The only person you’re really worried will find out is Yachi – your closest friend, that sweet girl wouldn’t be likely to judge, but she certainly wouldn’t understand. She’d ask a lot of questions – ‘ why would you do something like that?’; ‘well, are you sure there aren’t other options?’; ‘i would rather move out if i were you’ . Yachi’s had a very straightforward way of thinking ever since you met her, and she’d be the most likely to tell you that pursuing this line of work is drastic and unnecessary. You’re not sure you’re emotionally strong enough to deal with that.

Especially since your new occupation isn’t exactly going well . You’ve only been at it a few weeks, and you’ve garnered a decent number of subscribers on your platform – 897, to be exact (you check every day; you’re desperate). But, in the month since your roommate’s left, you’ve hardly made $300, and, while $300 of extra income per month is certainly not insignificant, it’s not enough to pay your rent.

Which is why you’re sitting here now, lunchless and sipping pitifully at cold coffee. But at least you’re in good company, Bokuto’s presence always a weight off your shoulders.

“Hi, Bokuto.”

Here comes the weight, right back on your shoulders.

You look up from your cup, meeting Akaashi’s eyes. He scans you quickly but doesn’t greet you, only setting his lunch tray down on the table and taking the seat beside Bokuto. The silver-haired man looks between you with wide eyes.

“Aw, man! Did you guys fight at your reading group?!” He rubs at his stomach. “Don’t fight now, too. It’ll make my tummy hurt.”

You laugh weakly, turning away and surveying the crowded dining hall. “Of course not, Kou. You’re neutral ground.”

“What she said,” Akaashi says, carefully mixing his food with his chopsticks. He cuts a glance at your coffee cup. “Is that the same one from this morning?” He glances at the time on his phone. It’s already past 2:30.

You’re instantly defensive. “Yeah.”

He hears the edge in your tone, shaking his head with a breath of laughter while pulling noodles into his mouth. He chews and swallows before responding, ever the gentleman. “Didn’t bring lunch?”

“Forgot it at home.”

He points at the buffet line at the back of the dining hall. “Then buy something.”

“Trying to save money,” you say. You watch his eyebrows pull together in confusion, and you know why – the dining hall’s extremely cheap, usually only $8 or $9 for a fair lunch. The issue is that you don’t have $8 or $9. You don’t have rent money, so you don’t have lunch money.

Thankfully, though, he doesn’t say anything else about it, and you’re briefly appreciative that he’s respectful of your financial situation. You’re also appreciative that he doesn’t tip Bokuto off about it. The large man is tapping away on his phone while he chews loudly, so he’d barely heard the questions Akaashi had asked you. He looks up at the silence now, glancing between you.

“What’d I miss?”

“Nothing. We were fighting,” Akaashi says. Today’s turning, shockingly, into a day of appreciating Akaashi Keiji.

“ No, ” Bokuto whines. “No fighting.”

A body slides into the spot beside yours, and another into the spot beside Akaashi.

“They fighting?” Kuroo asks, organizing his food on his tray. Tsukishima snorts across the table, mumbling ‘ aren’t they always? ’ quietly.

“We’re fine,” you laugh. “Trying not to make Kou’s tummy hurt.”

“Fair enough,” Kuroo says as he’s lifting a bite of food to his mouth. He stops, though, staring down at your cup. “Your tummy hurts, too, I guess.”

“I guess so,” you say, smiling and sipping at the now-gross coffee. He doesn’t say anything about it, only turning to ask Tsukishima about some ongoing drama in the history department. But he does slide his tray between the two of you while he talks, shoving his chopsticks into your hand and then leaning casually over to keep chatting to the blond, as though he’s merely asking you to hold them while he talks. You purse your lips, embarrassment warming your ears, but you pick at his tray anyway – just a bit of rice and a thin cut of spam balanced on his spoon. You take two bites and then slide the tray back, muttering ‘ thanks ’ under your breath.

You feel Akaashi’s eyes on you, but you refuse to meet them. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you pull it into your lap.

[2:47 PM] New Comment on Your Video

Your eyes widen, and you lower the brightness and turn your back slightly to Kuroo.

user6969 : pretty hot, would be hotter with someone fucking her tho

It already has ten likes. Your eye twitches, and you clear the notification quickly. You could never film with another person. You can’t . That defeats the whole purpose of keeping this anonymous.

But what if that’s the thing keeping you from making money? From paying rent? At this point, would you rather bring someone else into this, or would you rather eat the cost of moving out?

But you can’t move. With breaking the lease and having to sign a new one – moving fees not included – you already don’t have enough money. There’s no way to get approved for a new place with such little money in your bank account.

Should you sell feet pics? No, you can’t switch platforms or content at this point. You’d be starting from nothing in that case, and it’s no guarantee you’d do well there. Not that you’re really doing well with your current account, either.

Are you going to have to find a partner to film with?

“ Y/n .”

You jump, looking up. Akaashi’s staring back, standing behind Bokuto with his eyebrows raised and his tray in his hand. He looks a little annoyed.

“I’ve been calling your name.”

You blink. “Sorry. What is it?”

He lifts his brows impossibly further. “We have to go.”

You start, checking the time again. It’s 2:52. You have to go to the undergraduate class you’re TAing with him. “Oh, shit,” you mutter, standing with your bag. “We’re gonna be late.” You wave a cursory goodbye at the others, rushing to toss your coffee in the trash.

You chase after Akaashi, cursing his long legs, and follow him across the quad to the lecture hall. You both slide past the doors just as your advisor’s clearing his throat to get the class’s attention.

“ Now that our distinguished TAs have arrived, we can get started… ” he says into the microphone connected to the podium.

You follow Akaashi up the steps to the top row, managing to control the urge to roll your eyes at the number of undergrad girls watching longingly as Akaashi passes by. You sit with him in the back corner, huffing quietly and then hugging your bag to your stomach, because a low gurgle of hunger is creeping out. Akaashi snorts quietly, and you glare sideways at him. But he just reaches down into his bag, extracting a granola bar and offering it to you, his eyes still on the whiteboard at the front.

You grimace. “ I’m good, thanks, ” you whisper.

“ It’s going to annoy me, ” he says, jabbing the bar at you. You take it with a soft sigh, mumbling ‘ thanks ’ to him while you try to unwrap the plastic without being loud. You eat it quietly, deciding that it’s the least he can do for torturing you during LEM. And then you stuff the empty plastic in your bag before extracting your laptop, intending to take notes on your advisor’s lecture.

The screen is bright and noticeable when it opens to your most recently opened tab – thankfully not your porn account, which you’re always mindful to close before leaving home. But it is open to your bank’s website, still signed in and clearly displaying the meager $562.95 in your checking account.

You jump, rushing to lower the screen brightness and close out of the tab at the same time, and then you cut a glance at Akaashi. He’s not looking directly at your screen, but he’s certainly not looking at the whiteboard anymore. His eyes hover suspiciously in the space between your laptop and his, and he meets your eyes quickly before looking away when he realizes you’re watching him.

“ Sorry, ” he mumbles. “ Brightness caught my eye. ”

“ Don’t say anything ,” is all you say. All that you’re willing to plead with him. He just lifts a brow and nods, saying nothing else as he refocuses his attention on the lecture. You sigh, pushing two frustrated fingers against your temple, because now Akaashi Keiji knows you’re broke and living way too far above your means.

–

You sit on your couch four days later, scrolling aimlessly through Tinder. You grimace as you swipe, unable to bring yourself to approve of any of the guys you’re seeing. There are obviously some good-looking ones, and even some extremely attractive ones, but every time you start to swipe right, you hesitate.

How crazy are you going to look, matching on a dating app with someone, only to ask them if they’d be willing to be your faceless porn partner?

You groan, throwing your phone down. You can’t believe you’ve even gotten to this point. Just this week, you’d sworn you would keep running your account alone. You’d sworn you wouldn’t let anyone else get involved with this, for your pride and for your anonymity.

That’s another reason you’re so unwilling to match with someone on Tinder. What if he ends up being a total weirdo? What if he leaks your name online or talks about you to his friends? Or-

Oh, God, what if he lies about his age and ends up being an undergrad? Even worse – an undergrad in your department ?

“ Ugh- ” You shudder, picking your phone back up. “No. No fucking way.” You quickly delete your account and the app, shaking your head. It’s too much of a risk, and you’re not even sure you could ever trust someone you don’t know to help you with something so private and sensitive.

Do I really have to find a partner?

You pull your laptop from the table and open it, logging into your porn account and scrolling through the videos. You’d stuck to the same posting schedule since you’d started, maintaining consistency and posting every day over the last four weeks. It had definitely helped with your views, because the subscribers you do have know when to expect a new video. But, even this week alone, your view count has become stagnant and – in the case of the video you’d posted today – even gone down a few thousand hits.

You check the section for monetization, seeing you’d made an extra $16 dollars in the last four days. $16 dollars in four days. You might as well start selling your couch.

But if you can’t find a partner amongst the hundreds of men you don’t know, then it has to be someone you do know.

“Kuroo,” you sigh, leaning your head back against the couch. And then you shake your head. He’s the best choice – he’s private and minds his business. He would never be a risk for outting you. He’s also extremely attractive, and you have decent chemistry. But he’s also one of your closest friends, and you’re not even willing to tell him you do this for a living, for fear of something changing between you. You could never ask him to help you.

“Bokuto,” you move on, bobbing your head back and forth. He’s definitely the least likely to let anything change between you – he’d find it interesting, and he would never judge you. He’d also be more than willing to help, especially since this is for the purpose of paying your bills and not just something you do for fun on the side. He’s incredibly kind and motivated in that way… but still, it isn’t right.

Not only does it feel a bit weird to imagine having sex with him, even for business, but it also wouldn’t be long before he accidentally lets something slip to someone. It would be unintentional, of course, but Bokuto Koutarou isn’t exactly known for his subtlety. Not to mention that you need someone who can’t be recognized on camera, even faceless, and Bokuto’s presence is so overwhelming that it would take no time at all for someone who knows him to pinpoint exactly who it is.

You shake your head, going through the mental list of every guy you’ve ever interacted with. You don’t really know Tsukishima, despite eating lunch with him most days and seeing him at almost every function, and you get the feeling he would laugh in your face if you ask. You think of guys you’d known in college and even some guys you’d met at the events that your friends have invited you to. You even pick up your phone and start scrolling through your contacts, really stretching the limits of your imagination.

None of them work.

“ Fuck ,” you groan, scrubbing at your brow. This isn’t going to work.

Your phone buzzes with a text, the message sliding into view before disappearing.

[9:48 PM]

Akaashi: i printed copies of the handout for discussion on monday

Akaashi: putting them in my mailbox so you can grab them before class

Akaashi: youll print the exams next week, right?

You stare at the messages as they come in.

Akaashi .

His name drifts like a whisper through your mind, and you have to throw your phone on the table and stand, your eyes wide.

“No. No,” you say, rounding the couch and pacing behind it. “No, no, no.”

Not him. Anyone but him. You can barely stand him, and the idea of him knowing what you do to make rent is unfathomable. You can’t trust him with something like that-

But, he is trustworthy. He’d shown himself not even a week ago to be sensitive to your personal information and financial situation. He makes judgment calls that benefit you, even though he could be doing everything in his power to make your life hell. As annoying as he is – as rude as he can be, especially to you – he’s a decent human being. He’s private, he’s subtle, he’s quiet and keeps to himself, and-

And he’s average. A very good-looking man, yes, but overall a perfectly normal, average guy that would never be recognized.

“ No! ” You groan, starting to pace harder. “ No, no, no! ”

Your phone starts to ring on the table. You jump, staring at the screen.

You can see his name even from here.

You approach it carefully, hands shaking as you reach for it.

“H-Hello?”

“ Y/n, ” he says, his voice quiet but firm.

“Uh-” You laugh weakly. “Hi. What’s… up?”

“ I’m just checking you got my texts. I’m leaving the department now. ”

“You stayed there until 10 on a Saturday?”

“ I lost track of time. You got my texts, then? ”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yeah, I got them. Thanks for printing.”

“ And you’ll-”

“Yep. I got the exams.”

There’s silence on the other end, followed by the quiet jingle of his office keys. “ Are you… You sound.. not great. Nervous. ”

It’s mortifying that he can hear that it in your voice. Why can he hear that in your voice?

“No, I’m good. Just-just busy. Stressed.”

“ Oh. Okay, then. ” He pauses a moment, and you wonder if he’s giving you time to say more. You don’t. Finally, he clears his throat. “‘ Kay. Bye. ” He hangs up before you can repeat it back to him.

A perfectly average, decent human being who’s private, subtle, quiet, and keeps to himself.

The only issue is that you hate each other.

Great.

–

You pace in front of his office door two days later, biting your nails while you think. Anxiety swoops low in your gut, over and over again while you imagine talking to him. Swelling and heaving when you imagine the look on his face, inevitably judgmental and maybe a little amused that you’d even thought to approach him.

God, you can’t do this.

“No,” you mumble, turning back toward your own door. You’ll find someone else.

The door opens behind you, and you jump, spinning around. Akaashi stares at you in exasperation, his glasses askew and his hair ruffled like he’s been pulling his fingers through it.

“Are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand outside all day?”

“Uh,” you stammer, shaking your head. “Uh, no. No, I didn’t-I don’t have anything-”

“Y/n,” he sighs. “You’ve been pacing out here for ten minutes. I’ve been watching your feet go back and forth in front of my door this whole time. It’s really fucking distracting – I’m trying to work.”

Your eyes go wide, because you’re not sure you’ve ever heard Akaashi swear before. He opens the door wider, beckoning you in with an impatient sweep of his arm. You find yourself stepping past the threshold, wringing your hands as you stand in the middle of the little room. He leaves the door cracked, slipping past you carefully and returning to his desk.

“What is it?” He sits and starts sorting through his papers, attention only partially on you. “Something about LING 303? I graded my section’s assignments already – do you need the answer key?”

You swallow, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “No, I… I have an answer key, too.”

“Then?”

A large part of you wants to leave. He’s in a bad mood, and he’s clearly busy. You’re not sure this is the best time to bring up something this sensitive with him. But then again – when would you ever find the best time to talk to Akaashi Keiji about your secret porn account?

So, with a shaky breath, you return to the door, pushing it closed quietly and locking it.

“Uhm,” you start, turning slowly on the spot and facing him. “Can we talk?”

He’s got his eyes, wary now, on the doorknob where your hand rests, your thumb still over the lock that’s been pushed in. He blicks and flicks his gaze to yours, eyes narrowing when he sees the discomfort in your expression.

“O…kay?” He sets his papers down and leans back in his seat, his attention yours now. “...What’s up?”

You make your way to the chair in front of his desk and perch in it uncertainly. “Okay. Is it okay if I say everything before you talk?” He just tilts his head, watching you intensely, and then he nods once. Whatever had been on his mind before is clearly gone, and you silently hope it hadn’t been some groundbreaking idea that you’ve just interrupted.

“So,” you start, heaving out a nervous sigh. “You saw my bank account the other day. Last week.” He nods again, and you rush into the speech you’d practiced all morning, not wanting him to think you’re just here to ask for money. That might be easier, honestly. But your courage might never come again, so you need to barrel through this now. “It’s been that way for about a month now. I live in a 2-bedroom apartment, and – when I had a roommate-” He squints now, because he’s certainly heard Bokuto talk about your roommate as though she still exists. “-my rent was only $500 a month.”

He opens his mouth to speak, thoughts very obviously swirling in that overactive brain of his, but he shuts it again, remembering he’d promised you silence. He nods, and you nod back.

“She moved out a month ago for personal reasons, and if I break the lease and move out, too, it would cost more than just continuing to live there on my own. And-” You throw your hands around while you talk, ramping up in intensity now that you’ve gotten started. “-I know that in the long run, it’s more cost-effective to eat the move-out fees and the cost of moving, but you saw my bank account. I don’t have any way of doing that right now.”

“You need a roommate,” is what he says, unable to stop himself. You sigh, shaking your head.

“I tried. The only people searching for housing this late in the semester are undergrads.” He grimaces, and you nod. “So that’s not an option.” You sigh again, trying to remember what to say next. “Uh-Oh, right-So-” You wring your hands in your lap. “My rent’s over $1000, and I obviously don’t have that. And I’ve tried looking for extra jobs and for extra hours around the department, but I’m at max hours, and there are no part-time jobs that are flexible with my research and teaching schedule.”

You sigh shakily, staring out the window behind his head. You stay that way for a minute, gathering your courage. Akaashi watches you carefully, tracking the slight changes in your expression and the defeat that crosses your face.

“Y/n?” he asks, his voice soft now, in that way that he speaks to everyone who’s not you.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “Nervous.” You clear your throat and ground yourself, looking him straight in the eye. “So, I had to turn to some… desperate measures.” His eyebrows lift with interest, and you think you see him lean in almost imperceptibly. “I… decided to start making… content -”

You watch understanding cross his face immediately – of course it does, he’s not the Golden Boy for nothing. His eyes go wide, and he inhales quietly, leaning back in his chair and letting out a long, drawn out breath that ends in a quiet ‘ oh, boy ’. You stop talking, just watching him nervously. He stares back a moment, his mouth opening and closing with thoughts unsaid as he considers how to respond.

“And it was your only option?”

“Probably not,” you laugh. The sound is watery, and your eyes are starting to sting. “But I couldn’t think of anything else at the time, and I haven’t figured out anything better since – anything short of asking someone for a $500 loan.”

“Okay,” he says simply. You meet his eyes, searching for judgment or thinly veiled disgust, or anything . But he just looks back at you, his face devoid of everything but concentration as he thinks. “So, why are you telling me this?”

You break eye contact, staring down at your lap. You’re sweating profusely, your stomach doing that terrible flipping. “It’s… not exactly going well .”

Silence, and then-

“Define ‘ not going well ��.”

You flick your eyes to meet his briefly, seeing that he’s staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. When you make eye contact, he takes a breath.

“Y/n-”

“Someone-” You swallow. “I’ve only made $300 in the last four weeks, and my roommate helped me pay the October 1st rent because she felt bad for moving out so suddenly. I’m clearly desperate, Akaashi, because I’m not making the kind of money I need to be making, but there’s nothing else. And someone commented on a video that-” You break, rubbing at your brow and breathing hard. God, this is so difficult. You don’t know how to say it to him.

“You need a partner.”

You suck in a breath, your own watery, stinging eyes meeting his. He’s breathing a little harder now, and his expression’s not as guarded as it usually is. He’s tapping a finger nervously on his desk and blinking a lot.

“Why me?”

You fumble for an answer. “Uhm-Because-”

“Why not Kuroo?” He asks, his voice calm despite the increased tapping on his desk.

“‘m not sure our friendship would survive it. I care too much about him.”

He nods, clearly not offended by the implication that you’re willing to risk things with him . He’s not your friend and he knows that. The relationship between the two of you is delicate and tense, but it’s never entered the realm of care. Professional respect at most, outright hatred at worst. There’s nothing to risk by asking Akaashi Keiji to help, aside from the risk that he’ll make you feel bad or even that he’ll tell someone else. And it must mean something that you’re trusting him not to do those things.

“Bokuto?” he asks, jumping through all the same mental hoops that you had.

“There’s a million reasons it can’t be him,” you say, sighing tiredly. He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion, but he doesn’t push it. He just shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this with someone in the same department.” He considers something else, rolling his eyes slightly. “ And we have the same advisor. It’s too close. If something goes wrong…” He shakes his head again. “I don’t know, Y/n.”

“Right,” you say emptily. You’re already recalculating how often you can film and post solo content without losing too much sleep, the thought of selling feet pics popping up again. Anything to keep your mind off of the fact that talking to Akaashi had been a mistake – a waste of his time, and an exposure of yourself that had amounted to nothing.

This had amounted to nothing, baring this piece of your life to him. How humiliating.

“Y/n,” he says gently. You don’t meet his eyes, just patting your pockets for your office keys.

“Okay, well – thanks for your time-”

“I won’t say anything, Y/n,” he tries. “About any of it. I promise.”

“Thanks,” you laugh. “Yeah, I would appreciate that. Sorry for wasting your time.” You stand quickly, spinning to the door.

“Y/n- Y/n- ”

The sound of your name is muffled as you yank the door open and slam it closed behind you. You hear him sigh on the other side, a quiet ‘ fuck’ uttered in the stifling silence. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you plead for it to be Bokuto or Kuroo or Yachi.

Shockingly, it’s all three, sent to your group chat.

[2:26 PM]

Kou: LUNCH? TEN MINUTES?

Tetsu: bo we eat lunch at THE SAME TIME EVERY SINGLE DAY

Kou: IM JUST CHECKING, FUCK

Hitoka: i like that he reminds us, hehe

Kou: yeah, see??? Yachi’s forgetful!!!

Hitoka: hey now.

Kou: oops-

A small smile tugs at your lips as you drift down the hall to the grad student lounge to get your lunch. But, as you’re typing out that you’ll be down soon, another text comes in.

Akaashi: y/n i wont say anything

Akaashi: i swear

Your face burns with embarrassment. It’s damage control, plain and simple, and the fact that he feels the need to do that at all makes this whole situation worse. You can’t bring yourself to open the text or say anything else to him. It’s humiliating, knowing that Akaashi Keiji knows what you do for money now. That you’re not even good enough at it to make rent.

Akaashi doesn’t make it to lunch that day. You try your best to shrug uncaringly when Bokuto wonders aloud why he’s not there.

–

Keiji has never known what to make of you.

From the moment he’d met you – at the department orientation five years ago – he’d found you interesting, and not always necessarily in a good way. When you’d rattled off that list of research interests during your self-introduction, the one that had been unrealistically high-reaching and ambitious, he’d written you off as naive. When you’d made friends easily, your smile bright and your laugh loud and grating against his ears, he’d written you off as annoying.

And then you’d gone ahead and proven that that list wasn’t as high-reaching as he’d thought. Or maybe it was, and you’d just had a touch of insanity in your blood. You’d proven that you aren’t just ambitious – you’re successful. You’re smart – brilliant, even. And Keiji had found you interesting again, because he could never tell if you’d realized it. He still can’t.

You carry an intensity in your shoulders and eyes that he’s always caught off guard to see. You question the work of your peers with the kind of brutal honesty that should make you unpopular. It should make people hate you, the way you pick apart their ideas and results. But they never do. They never hate you, and he kind of hates that.

Maybe it’s because you always seem so eager to learn. You don’t criticize when you question – you just question . You don’t tear anyone down – in fact, your questions only seem to build people up, to the point that you’re often stopped in the halls and asked for your opinion on methodological choices and theoretical connections. People seek you out, and you’re all too happy to help.

But with your own work, you’re suddenly unsure. Keiji bristles when he sees it, that uncertain tilt of your head when you talk. It’s almost impossible to notice, and he’s sure that, to everyone else, you’re just being humble, or a nervous public speaker, even. You’re knowledgeable about your work, you seem confident when you answer questions, and you accept criticism with grace, taking notes diligently when points come up that you hadn’t thought of.

But he sees it – that uncertainty in your own ability. And it pisses him off.

You are annoying, he’d decided after the first time he’d noticed that hesitant nature. It annoys him, because you work just as hard as he does – you’re just as smart as he is – and you can’t seem to see it. Or is it a ploy? Is it an act, a performative relatability that only he can see?

You piss him off.

How can both of you be so brilliant, but you seem so much more likeable? How can people call him the Golden Boy and then be too afraid to approach him? You’re the Golden Girl, for fuck’s sake. Can’t they see it? Why are you so easy for people to talk to? Why do people tell you ‘ good job’ when you give presentations, and he’s never gotten so much as a pat on the shoulder? Why do people like you so much , and all he gets is polite smiles and nervous expressions? Why does his name float around the department in reverence, but it’s your name that people say when they want to get a second pair of eyes on their proposals, their chapters?

And why , for all that is good in the world, do you not realize it ?

That’s why he targets you. It’s like an itch he can’t reach — he just can’t help himself. He doesn’t offer you meaningless platitudes or careful language when he gives you feedback, because it’s not your favor he wants. What he wants is to push you. He wants to push you to your limit – bully you to it, if he has to.

Because it’s your research that’s born of brilliance, the kind of brilliance that makes goosebumps rise on his skin. The kind that makes his spine straighten and his gut wrench with excitement. It’s your research – your mind – that he’s drawn to. He wants to see you succeed, because he wholeheartedly believes that you could change the field.

But you don’t see that. No one seems to see that, except him and, undoubtedly, your advisor. So, when he pushes you, he know it looks like a personal attack. He knows it looks to you like he dislikes you for no apparent reason, because you’re just trying your best and he’s the department genius that thinks you’re beneath him. He knows how it looks, and he makes not a single move to fix it – because he’s seen, more than once, how what you think he is and what you think he’s doing has moved you to do revolutionary things.

He’s seen you do remarkable things with just a little bit of hatred.

So he keeps it up, because maybe he hates you just a little bit, too. Maybe his own work is as unquestionable as it is because he’s secretly begging you to question it, begging you to give him that focused look and that critical eye that always makes his breath hitch. But you never give him what he wants, so he doesn’t either. He doesn’t give you the softspoken voice or the gentle, polite demeanor that he gives everyone else, even though he can see you yearning for it. He won’t give you that, not until you realize what you are – a genius, just the same as him.

When you come to him on October 16th, opening your life to him in ways he hadn’t expected, he means every word he says to you. It shouldn’t be him – it would get messy, the two of you having sex. He knows you had to have thought this through already, that you would never have approached him unless he was the absolute last option available, but he can’t bring himself to say yes to you. He knows you need the money, and there’s a non-insignificant part of him that actually wants to say yes. That wants to help you, because, despite how he feels about you, he can recognize the severity of the situation. Of the look in your eye, desperate and scared.

But he can’t bring himself to do it, because he knows that this intricately built web of hate and respect that you’ve built together is incredibly fragile. That whatever you two have – whatever this thing is that can’t be called friendship or anything close to it – would collapse and change. Keiji doesn’t like change.

So he watches, over the course of October 17th, 18th, and 19th, as you become more desperate.

He catches you dissociating more than once during your shared reading group meetings, and you don’t even pull your laptop out during the syntax class you TA together. You avoid his eyes for the duration of the 17th, but you seem to forget about him entirely the rest of the days, your gaze distant and stressed. You check your phone more than once during class, and he doesn’t dare look, because he’s certain you’re looking at your porn account for views and comments.

He catches you chasing after your advisor after group meetings, and he realizes quickly that the man’s aware of your financial situation, because he only shrugs regretfully and leaves you in the hall, staring down at nothing. He catches you turning down Bokuto’s lunchtime offer to hit up a bar on the evening of the 18th, and then he glances into your office the morning of the 19th – you’re staring blankly at the journal article on your desk, not reading a single word, and Keiji begins to understand how this might impact your research.

He confirms it that afternoon, a cloudy Thursday just before lunch. He’s passing his advisor’s office on the way to the grad student lounge, a can of iced coffee waiting with his name on it – but he stops short when he hears your voice inside.

“ ...have to find another job, ” you say, your voice clearly stressed. “ There’s no way to get an advance on next month’s paycheck from the department? ”

The old man sighs loudly. “ I’ll see what I can do, but you know these things don’t usually work like that. And they take time. I think another job’s the only option at the moment. ”

“ Okay, ” you say. “ In that case, I’m not sure what to do about my research- ”

Keiji inhales sharply, pressing his ear to the door. You’re not postponing your experiment, are you? You can’t. He knows he told you to push it as much as necessary for the case marking issues, but he hadn’t meant for it to be like this .

“ Take some time to focus on your personal situation ,” your advisor says. “ Find a part-time job with stable hours, and we’ll work your research around it. It might double the time needed- ”

Double?!

Keiji’s starts to shake his head. No, that’s not possible. You can’t.

“ Fuck ,” he whispers, stomping off down the hall, his coffee entirely forgotten. God, is this really going to be the thing that brings you down? Is it really going to be this ?

He barrels into his office and starts to pace the length of it. He thinks through your situation in extreme detail, rubbing at his brow and sighing in frustration every time he has to turn and pace the other way down his office.

Obviously, you’ve thought through every option, but he runs through them anyway, if only to confirm for himself that you really are left with no option except finding a job and delaying the progress of your research.

Well, there’s one option.

One option that wouldn’t require you to put your energy toward applying for jobs and training for some side gig you have no interest in. One option that doesn’t require you to lose sleep or miss class or drop out of optional reading groups due to having to work somewhere across town. One option that would probably get you immediate payout, which he knows is the reason you started in the first place.

He looks at the little flip calendar on his desk. October 19th. 12 days until your rent is due. How long would it take you to apply for jobs? Would they let you start right away? When would you get your first paycheck?

Is finding a part-time job even a solution anymore?

“ Fuck! ” He throws himself down in his chair. There’s a very large part of him – the majority, even – that’s concerned about your research progress. It’s unwarranted, his dedication to work that’s not his own. But it’s not even about that – it’s the fact that he knows how this will tear at you. How it will eat you alive, not being able to work on your research. How agonizing it’ll be, seeing the rest of your cohort progress while you struggle to pay rent. Because you think like he thinks, whether you’d like to admit it or not.

Maybe that’s the smaller part of him, too. The part that wants to help you because it’s you . Because, as much as he dislikes and even hates you at times, he wants to fix this for you. He wants things to be okay for you, because you’re a person with a life – a person in his life – and you don’t deserve the kind of torment you’re currently experiencing. He doesn’t want to see you crushed by the stress.

Not when there’s something he can do about it.

–

Akaashi texts you that night.

You sit, hunched, at your dining table, frantically fixing your resumé and sending it off to different cafes, restaurants, and bars all over Tokyo. You’ve been applying all week – two places have already rejected you, saying they’re only hiring full-time workers, and one place has scheduled an interview with you, but it’s over a week away.

You’re staring intensely at your laptop, pushing down the continuous sense of dread by finding more and more places to apply. You barely notice when your phone buzzes next to you, and you pick it up without looking, thinking it’ll be one of your friends sending a meme to the group chat.

[7:59 PM]

Akaashi: i’ll do it.

You stare down at your phone, unseeing. Your ears start to buzz, and your vision goes blurry for a moment.

He’ll do it? He’ll-

You press call before you can think of anything. He picks up on the first ring.

“ Hello? ”

“You’ll do it?” Your eyes focus in on a scuff on your hardwood floors, latching onto it so you don’t have to look at anything else. “Really?”

“ Yeah. I’ll do it. ”

“Why?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you eyebrows scrunch the longer it stretches on.

“ I could use a bit of extra money, too. Once you’re done paying rent. ”

It’s insultingly easy to spot that that’s bullshit, but you don’t press it. You can’t risk pressing this. Not when your solution – this miracle – is finally within reach.

“What about the other stuff?”

“ We’ll figure it out. I can draft up a contract and bring it by tomorrow, if that works for you. ”

“A contract?” You want to roll your eyes, because that’s incredibly Akaashi Keiji , but you also recognize that you hadn’t thought of that.

“ Are you in or not? ”

There’s no way in hell you’re passing this up.

“Yes-Sorry, I’m just… surprised. But, yes.”

“ Alright. Tomorrow afternoon? ”

“I’m free after 2.”

“ I’ll be there at 2:30. Send me your address. ”

“O…kay. Okay.”

You hear him swallow and shift on the other end, and then he mumbles, “ Okay. See you tomorrow. ”

You’re left with the dial tone, that scuff in the hardwood burned into your mind when you blink.

“Okay,” you say to no one.

The conversation had lasted 55 seconds.

–

He shows up at 2:29 on Friday, rapping three quick knocks on your door and scaring the shit out of you as you pace the living room nervously. You rush to get it, fixing your hair and clothes as you go and giving the room a cursory glance. You’re suddenly so nervous to exist in front of him, feeling your appearance and the cleanliness of your home under scrutiny even though he hasn’t seen either yet.

You pull the front door open, dragging your eyes up to meet his. He’s wearing a pair of black slacks and a tucked-in white button-down, the collar peeking through the top of the black sweater vest he’d fitted over it. His glasses, black and settled comfortably on the bridge of his nose, glint in the light and block you from seeing the look in his eye when you appear in front of him. And then he shifts his weight, and you see those deep blue eyes staring right into yours.

Akaashi adjusts his backpack on his shoulder. “Hi.”

You swallow hard. “Uh. Hi.” You step back quickly to let him in, and you try not to notice the subtle cologne he’s wearing when he brushes past you. Had he always worn cologne? “Thanks for coming.”

“Mhm,” he hums, slipping his sneakers off and setting them neatly to the side in your foyer. When he stands, you watch him cast his gaze across your living room and dining area, tucked into a corner by the kitchen. He steps into the living room, wandering slowly to the side of the couch while looking at the space. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to let this place go.”

High ceilings, lots of windows, and a small balcony. Hardwood floors and an open floorplan – the kitchen is visible past the island counter, two beams capping the ends of the bar to section the area off from the rest of the room. Your bedroom door is just past the couch, your roommate’s old room hidden down a narrow hallway with the bathroom.

When you and your ex-roommate had found the place together, five years prior, rent had been cheaper and $500 hadn’t been considered a steal for a place like this. You’d managed to keep the landlord from raising the prices over the years, the two of you stellar tenants with not a single issue to note. That’s the only reason he’d let your roommate break her lease so suddenly – especially since you’d said you could take the entire thing over until you could find a new roommate.

Not that that new roommate would ever appear.

“Yeah,” you say, following Akaashi into the room and gesturing for him to sit. You move to the kitchen to get two glasses of water while he takes the corner and sets his backpack down at his feet. “I’ve made my home here. Would hate to start over, I guess.”

He looks around, eyeing all the decorations and furniture in the room. Your roommate had left you with the furniture, thankfully – this place would be barren otherwise. She’d even left her bed and the little couch in her room, reasoning that keeping the room furnished might encourage someone to move in.

You’re not sure you’d ever tell her what you use that bed and couch for now, a conveniently placed “studio” right in your own home.

You join Akaashi on the couch, offering him the water and just nodding awkwardly when he thanks you for it. His fingers brush yours when he takes the glass, his attention still on the room, and you fight the blush that rises. There are a number of thoughts floating through your mind as you examine his fingers, but you shake your head to clear them, because technically no contracts have been signed, so you’re not allowed to think about how pretty his hands will look on camera.

“So…” you start. “What exactly did you have in mind for these contracts?”

He blinks, as though remembering why he’s here, and sets his glass down. “Right.” He rustles through his bag, extracting two sets of papers and handing one to you. “I… had to look up a template for this kind of contract-”

You snort despite yourself, because he’s blushing slightly at having to admit that he has no clue what he’s doing. He rolls his eyes but continues anyway.

“I think it’s standard to just discuss expectations, boundaries, and-uh- preferences .”

You flip the first page over, finding blank lines to fill in the terms of the agreement – and then a long checklist that spans about two more pages. It consists entirely of turn-ons, turn-offs, kinks (taboo or otherwise), and absolute non-negotiables. There’s another page with blank lines, the section titled ‘ Agreed Upon Consent System ’.

You nod slowly. “You did your homework.”

“Did you forget who I am?”

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you look through the checklist again. “Sorry – is ‘Shibari ’ listed here because you know it, or because you expect that I might?”

He smothers a smile, but you catch the downward turn of his lips before it’s gone. “I didn’t want to make any assumptions.”

“Fair enough,” you sigh. And then you look at him. “And… you’re sure you’re okay with this?” When he just nods, meeting your eyes evenly, you watch him for a moment. “And you won’t, like, hold this over my head or something?”

His brows furrow for a moment before smoothing out. “No. Of course not.” You don’t respond, and he sighs. “I don’t benefit from hurting you, you know.”

You relax at that. You suppose that’s true – the two of you might not like each other, but it would be another level of messed up if Akaashi were to use this against you in any way..

“Okay. Sorry. I had to check.”

“Surprisingly, I’m above blackmail.”

You shake your head, wondering if he’d always been a little funny, or if this situation’s so ridiculous that you’re finding everything hilarious. “Okay, so – terms?”

He shifts his weight forward, leaning his elbows on his knee while he looks down at the first page of the contract. “I think payment’s the most important part right now.” You nod, watching as he retrieves a pen from his bag and clicks it a few times. “I was thinking… I take 20% of the cut for each video, but only when it wouldn’t prevent you from paying rent and bills?”

“How’d you decide on 20%?”

He shrugs. “I’m relatively comfortable financially, so I don’t need a large portion. And I don’t expect anything for the first few weeks, at least – not until your finances are settled.”

You watch the side of his face while he thinks – his lips pinch into a grimace and he shifts his head back and forth. He’d always been that way, from the beginning. He clicks his pen a few more times, and then he glances at you.

“Is that okay with you? I’m good for 10%, too.”

You shake your head right away. “No, of course not. 20% is completely reasonable.”

He nods, tapping his pen to the paper and writing out the agreement for payment. He sighs quietly. “Okay, next thing… What do you do for privacy?”

You take a breath. “I edit my face out of everything, and-” You stretch your foot out and lift your pant leg, displaying the small sunflower tattoo on the inside of your ankle. “-I edit that out, too.” You point down the hall. “I film in the spare bedroom, so that no one recognizes the stuff in my room. And I muffle some of the audio, so my voice isn’t easy to recognize. It would help, too, if we need to talk to each other.”

He nods, and then he starts to roll up the sleeve on his right arm. “Would it be hard to edit this out?” There’s a medium-sized tattoo on his forearm, a stretch of the moon cycles sketched in black across his skin.

“Oh, woah-” You scoot in on instinct, your fingers hovering over his milky skin. “When did you get this?”

“Last year, when I passed the Prelim.” His voice comes from over your head, quiet and low. You smile to yourself, examining the intricate line art. “I wanted to gift myself something.” You find it interesting to imagine Akaashi Keiji being nervous enough about passing the milestone between doctoral student and doctoral candidate, so much that he’d promised himself something if he were to pass.

“Pretty cool gift,” you mumble, your fingers tracing the air over his skin but never making contact. He lowers his arm, and you seem to realize only now how close you are. You meet his eyes quickly, seeing the silent amusement in his gaze, and you scoot back to your spot. “Sorry.”

He says nothing of it, just nodding down to his arm. “Can you edit it?”

You squint at the art. “I can try, but if you move your arms a lot, it might be easier to cover it with makeup. We can test it – film from the other side, lower the camera so your arm’s out of frame. That kind of thing.”

He nods, rolling his sleeve down again. You look away from his hands as he works, taking the moment instead to reflect on how business-like this conversation is. You’d expected more discomfort, given the circumstances. But you both treat it with detachment and only a few hiccups that can be recovered easily. It’s oddly easy, in a way that you can’t imagine with Bokuto or Kuroo – perhaps because of how much history you have with them, how much would be changing by entering into this kind of agreement together.

There’s nothing holding you and Akaashi together that would prevent you from doing business together in this way. It’s reassuring to realize that.

Akaashi buttons the cuff on his sleeve again and reaches for the pen, jotting down the terms of privacy. He glances at you briefly. “About who we can tell…”

Your heart jumps. “No one, preferably.”

“Right,” he says. “But if someone were to find out on accident, or if someone puts together that we’re having sex… what do we say?”

“Oh…” You tap your nails on your thigh. “Just that we’re hooking up?”

He nods. “That’s fine. I also think it’s fine if you decide to tell someone what we’re actually doing.” He cuts you short when you open your mouth to protest. “ I won’t tell anyone, because this isn’t my financial situation and this wasn’t my idea. This is your business, and I’m mindful of that. But I think it’s perfectly possible that you might end up wanting to tell someone, for whatever reason. And I think that’s your prerogative, so I don’t mind if you tell them that I’m part of it.” He takes a breath, smiling to himself when he considers something. “Uh, but – maybe don’t show them anything.”

“Oh, God, I would never,” you reassure him, shaking your head. “That’s a huge violation. And I don’t expect that I’ll want to tell anyone-”

“Still,” he argues. “It’s good to have the option. If you’re stressed or need a friend.”

“Well, what if you want to tell someone? What if you need a friend?”

His eyebrows tent in amusement, and he sighs. “How about we just agree to ask each other first? Whatever the reason.”

You take a breath. “Okay. I’m okay with that – reserving the right to say no?”

“Of course,” he says plainly, adding that to the terms.

You nod, sighing shakily. You feel an odd sense of trust with him – that he’s good for his word, because he’s, more often than not, honest to a fault.

“Anything… else?” you ask. “Before we get to the… technical parts?”

He snorts through his nose while he writes, and you’re reminded of the absurdity of the situation. “Yeah, just one more thing.” He purses his lips now, not meeting your eyes. “When was your last health visit?”

“Oh!” You blink rapidly, realizing what he’s asking. “Oh, I’m clean. I get a yearly health check, and I haven’t had sex in– I dunno, probably two or three years, so I’m good,” you ramble, laughing to yourself as you brush off his concern. Then you stop, because he’s looking at you like he’s fighting laughter himself, and you register what you’d said. That you’d just admitted to him that you haven’t gotten laid in three years . “Uh-”

He shakes his head. “Good to know. And it’s been at least a year for me, too.” He reaches into his bag, retrieving a sheet of paper. “But I brought this, in case you needed it-” He starts to hand it to you, and you piece together quickly that this is his health check. You take it, only glancing at the date to confirm that it was, in fact, done today.

“You went to the doctor today?”

He blinks. “I thought it would be best.”

You gape at him. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have believed you.” You glance around your living room. “I don’t even know where my sheet is- I went two months ago-”

“I don’t need to see it,” he says, shaking his head. “I believe you.”

“Dude! You can’t have all these weird, anti-double-standards.” You throw your hands up and hand him his health check back, and then you stand, moving to the file cabinet in the corner. “I’m finding that little fucker-”

“ Y/n ,” Akaashi laughs, and you pause, if only because you’ve never heard your name like that from him. He looks more visibly relaxed, too, now that you look at him properly. “It’s fine . If you want to find it, find it later.”

You sigh, staring him down a moment but returning to the couch nonetheless. He tries to hand you the health check again, but you brush it off with a grumble. “I don’t need your stupid health check, damn it.”

“I went through the trouble of getting it,” he argues, lifting his brows with a smug tilt of his head. You glare, snatching it from him but leaving it on the coffee table.

“What else, huh?” You bark, half-joking. “Got any other surprises for me?”

“No,” he says with a patient shake of his head, his lips tugging his smile away. “We can get to the technical part.”

You sigh, lifting your copy of the contract from the table and leafing through it. “So, I post every day on a consistent schedule. Obviously, I don’t want you to give up every evening of your week to film for the next day’s post, nor do I have the time.”

“And it would look weird – both of us becoming suddenly unavailable to see our friends every night,” he reasons, and you nod.

“Exactly. You have a life, and so do I. I usually batch all my content one night a week, and then I spend a few hours the next night editing everything and scheduling it to post.”

“You’ve really thought this through,” he comments quietly, also leafing through his contract. You warm, realizing it’s a compliment.

“ Thanks ,” you mutter. “I’d hoped it would have yielded better results, but at least I have a consistent schedule now.” You return to your proposal. “I think filming partner content will take longer, naturally, but I don’t want us meeting every night, so how’s twice a week? Five or six hours each?”

He hums and nods right away. “Makes sense. And we can change the days every week, so we’re not both conveniently missing every single, say, Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Yeah, good point.” He writes it down, and you clear your throat. “And I don’t think we should kiss,” you suggest, your voice quiet.

“I agree.” He doesn’t think twice about it, just writing it on the next line, and relief fills you. You hadn’t been sure how to bring up to him the fact that you find kissing personal and intimate in a way that you aren’t comfortable experiencing with him. It would probably offend you if he were anyone else – the way he agrees immediately – but you know he’s only thinking about this as logically as you are.

You appreciate, for once, that you and Akaashi Keiji think so similarly.

“And,” you start, clapping your hands as you realize something suddenly. “As for protection-”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, reaching down into his bag.

He drops a box of condoms on the table, size large.

You stare down at it dumbly. “Oh. Okay. That’s-” You’re not sure you’d ever expected to be in the know about the size of Akaashi’s-

“I was at the store and didn’t want to forget.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine, it’s just-” You smile to yourself, a little embarrassed to know this. “Videos with condoms don’t really do as well as videos without.”

You feel his eyes on the side of your face. “I… did not know that,” he says. “But I can understand why.”

You swallow, handing the condoms back to him with an awkward grin. “I’m on the pill, is what I wanted to say.” You’re glad to see that the apples of his cheeks are becoming rosy.

“Got it,” he says, turning to put the box in his bag again. He scribbles ‘ birth control ’ haphazardly on the sheet, and you let out an accidental snicker. He shakes his head at it, and you catch the grin on his face just as he’s turning away.

“Uh,” you start, trying not to laugh again. “I was also thinking pet names might be necessary.”

“Oh, if we need to talk to each other,” he realizes, nodding. “Yeah. Do you have a preference?”

“I think that question might be better for you,” you muse. “I’m good with most things-”

“ Sweetheart ? Princess ? Pretty girl or baby girl ? Darling ?” he asks without thinking. You watch his mouth move, words you’d never expected from him just falling from his lips like nothing.

“S-Sure. That’s all fine with me.”

“Okay,” he says. “I think for me… I mean, baby ’s fine. I’m not really into the… more stereotypical names.”

You tilt your head. “What, like daddy ?”

He grimaces. “Yeah, that’s not my thing-” He cuts a glance at you. “Sorry, if it’s yours.”

You smile wide now, utterly amused. “Can’t say it is. But – are you a dom, Akaashi? Or a sub.”

“Why?” he says, a single eyebrow lifting as his lips quirk in a grin. “Because I like to be called baby ?”

“I’m just curious,” you say, feigning a seriousness you simply don’t feel.

“Well, be curious in bed, not now.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. “Yes, Sir.” His fingers twitch on his pen, and your eyebrows lift with interest. You lean forward. “ Sir ? Is that it?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“But you reacted when I said it-”

He rolls his eyes and starts to flip the page toward the checklist of preferences. “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it.”

“How’d I say it?”

He stands, glancing down the hall. “Like a brat.” Your smile drops, right along with your stomach. It flips violently, and your fingers start to tingle, but he barely gives you a second look. “Give me a tour of the spare bedroom? While we go through these.”

Your legs shake when you stand. “Sure.” You lead him down the hall, contract clutched in your hand and heart in your throat. You weren’t prepared to hear that from him.

You push the door open, letting him in. He wanders to the center of the room, turning in place. You’d put plain white sheets on the bed, the comforter a deep red color. The couch in the corner is covered in a pale green sheet, and there are a few throw pillows and blankets laid over the arm and back of it. There’s an empty desk in the corner, one that Akaashi eyes with an amused lift of his brow.

“It’s nice in here,” he says blankly, his eyes still tracking the decor in the room. It’s all plain enough not to be recognizable, but the room is comfortable to be in. You’d put string lights all around the wall, your phone equipped with an app to change the colors whenever. You’ve got one tripod for your phone near the bed and another near the couch, and there’s a chest at the end of the bed. Akaashi taps it with his foot.

“Functional or just decoration?” Your harsh flush is his answer, and he reaches for the latch, pausing for permission once he’s got his fingers on it. You nod curtly, and he drops his contract and pen on the bed so he can crouch by the chest and lift the top with both hands.

He gives you no indication of his thoughts when he looks inside – it’s filled with sex toys, harnesses, props, and basically anything else you thought might be useful. Looking at it now, you’re certain it looks like you’re into a lot of interesting things, but he only glances at you for a second round of permission before he reaches in. He seems to understand that it’s one thing to look and another entirely to touch , but you give him that permission, too.

The first thing he extracts is a whip. “Have you ever used this?”

You smile emptily. “On myself, once. Wasn’t very fun. And I didn’t upload the video.”

He sets it back inside gently. “I prefer to use my hands, if that’s okay.”

“Oh.” You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to this. “Sure.”

He spends the next few minutes quietly pulling out a variety of dildos, butt plugs, and vibrators and laying them neatly on the bed, side by side. You grow warmer with each one, unsure what to do with this situation. He also retrieves a stretch of black cloth that you’d used once to blindfold yourself. It hadn’t gone as well as you’d hoped.

He stands with it now, tugging on it experimentally. “I like this.”

“Okay.”

He nods to the items on the bed. “I like all those, too-” He glances down and reaches into the chest again, setting a bottle of lube next to the vibrator on the end.

You approach him finally, standing beside him as you survey the collection. “Okay. Why?”

He picks up his contract, scanning the list and pointing to your bed as he speaks. “Guided masturbation.” He points to the dildos and the vibrators. He points next to the butt plugs. “Anal-”

“Oh, I’ve-” You fidget with your fingers. “I have yet to be successful with that.” He stares down at you in confusion, and then gestures to the fact that there are three of them on the bed, varying in size. You smile pitifully up at him. “I thought the issue was the size.”

“O…kay,” he says with a breath of laughter. “We don’t have to include anal-”

“No, I’m…” You chuckle to yourself. “I’m not opposed… obviously.”

There’s a long moment of eye contact, one where you become incredibly warm and his lips fight to tug into a smirk, but he eventually turns back to his contract.

“Understood.”

You wonder how much longer this torture will last.

He moves to the couch, sighing quietly and clicking his pen again. You’re starting to get the idea that that’s a nervous tick. “Should we just go one at a time and say yes or no?”

“Okay. Sure.” You close the lid of the chest and sit on it, ignoring the pile of toys behind you.

You spend the next ten minutes that way, voting on a list of kinks with Akaashi Keiji, as though you haven’t spent the last five years dreading every second with him. You learn that he’s into choking – giving and receiving – but that he prefers giving oral more than receiving it. You tell him that you like being tied up but that you’ve never tried it with a partner before, and then you admit to a slight oral fixation. He jokes dryly that you’d have to settle for his fingers in your mouth, in that case, and you bite back a warning that the oral fixation includes marking your partners up where others can see. He only lifts a brow and asks if he should check off ‘ exhibitionist ’, and you joke that your balcony isn’t visible from the street. You ask more certainly if he’s a dom, because it’s becoming obvious that he is, and he rolls his eyes and asks if you’re always this bratty.

The list goes on and on, and you’re surprised by how honest both of you are being. He checks ‘ dacryphilia ’, and you tell him with waning embarrassment that he can go ahead and check ‘ somnophilia ’ while he’s at it. Even things you’ve never tried but have been quietly interested in make the list, and you wonder if maybe it’s because this is a chance to try all those things without fear of judgment from the person you’re doing it with. There’s no pressure with Akaashi, because there’s no crushing fear that he’s going to find you strange or uncomfortable.

He’d shrugged and nodded when you’d said the word somnophilia, for fuck’s sake. He utters the words ‘ temperature play’ , ‘ overstimulation ’, and ‘ ruined orgasm ’ with ease, and you rattle off ‘ edging ’, ‘ praise ’, and ‘ dirty talk ’ like it’s nothing. There’s nothing to worry about with him.

Eventually, he sighs, turning to the last page of the contract, which only has the ‘ Agreed Upon Consent System ’ section and lines for your signatures. “And… is it alright if I’m a little mean?”

You tilt your head at him, your embarrassment long forgotten. “Like, degradation? Calling me names?”

He hums and then shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He thinks for a moment. “More like… disinterest.”

“Oh.” You consider it. “I suppose that’s a kind of degradation.”

“I suppose it is.” He shifts. “Just worried, since you mentioned praise.”

You feel a little embarrassment now. “Well, is there a way to do both?”

His smile is surprised, and he ducks his head when he laughs. “Yeah, I think there might be. Disinterested praise.”

“Yeah, see? Just make sure not to smile at me when you say nice things,” you joke.

He shakes his head and then taps the paper. “What’s our consent system?”

You shrug. “I’m only really familiar with the color system.”

“Green, yellow, red?” he asks, already starting to write it down. You hum in agreement, and he holds the contract up when he’s done. “Okay. I’m ready to sign if you are.”

You leave your blank copy on the bed and hop off the chest, joining him on the couch. You watch as he signs his name and marks the date on one of the lines – he hands you the pen after, and you do the same, your name sitting neatly under his.

“Okay,” you breathe, staring down at the paper with fresh eyes. He nods beside you, and then he turns his head. You feel his eyes on you, so you meet them, and he sticks his hand out to you.

“Let’s get you your rent money.”

You can’t help but laugh when you take his hand, shaking it firmly.

–

He texts you later that night, after you’ve had time to lie in your bed and process what’s just happened.

You feel, weirdly enough, more comfortable with him – not completely, and certainly nothing of the friendly sort, but you feel like the afternoon hadn’t been that tense or difficult. It had mostly been awkward and a little funny, which is only to be expected in this situation. It makes you wonder, while you’re showering and making dinner, if maybe Akaashi’s not all that bad outside of an academic context.

Of course, things between you inside an academic context are so hostile that it had always bled over into whatever social interactions you’d been forced into by your mutual friends. You can’t imagine that those things will change anytime soon – it feels strange to picture Akaashi as anything but rude and torturous within the department, and you find that you’re not so enthused at the idea of him suddenly warming up to you. You like how things are between you. You like him just how he is, predictably annoying and cold.

So, when he texts you, you’re unsurprised that your guards go up.

[10:16 PM]

Akaashi: i need your account name + site

[10:18 PM]

Akaashi: please

You feel the floor drop out from under you, and you answer in a frenzy.

[10:19 PM]

You: no fucking way

Akaashi: ???????

Akaashi: i need to study before tomorrow??????

Yes, you’d agreed to spend the majority of the day tomorrow batching content for the week. But you have no idea why you hadn’t anticipated this.

Aghast, you don’t bother typing, just jabbing down on the button to record a voice note.

“You need to study?! ” You say, exasperated. “My body’s all over that account! I’m doing a lot of things on that account! Naked things!”

You send it and wait, pacing the space around your bed. He sends a voice note back. You click play with a shaky thumb.

“ Are you insane?” he says, and you hear that he’s laughing at you. You swell with annoyance as he talks. “ Did you plan to have sex with me with all your clothes on? ” You roll your eyes, sitting at the edge of your bed.

“Yeah, that was a stupid point,” you mumble to yourself.

“ I need to see what the general aesthetic of your account is, okay? To see how you film. ”

You press the microphone again to record. “Yeah, but this feels super unfair! You’ll have seen my whole body, and I won’t have seen yours – this is skewed!”

He texts back this time.

[10:23 PM]

Akaashi: oh, sorry. let me link you to my porn account, too, then.

Akaashi: are you hearing yourself???

You groan, throwing yourself back on your mattress. You know he’s right, but it’s terrifying to know that Akaashi will have seen you naked – more than naked, really – and you will have no clue what you’re walking into tomorrow. Still, you just flail on your bed a few times in protest before sighing and lifting your phone to your face.

[10:26 PM]

You: xxxvids .com

You: username tokyolovely

You throw your phone down and roll over to bury your face in the mattress, screaming into the comforter when your phone buzzes with his response.

Akaashi: … no comment.

You want to smack him.

Akaashi: and why couldnt you choose one of the big sites that everyone else posts on???

Akaashi: onlyfans?? pornhub even???

Akaashi: i swear to god if i get a virus from xxxvids .com

Akaashi: rent is not the only expense youll need to worry about

You definitely want to smack him.

–

Keiji throws his phone down on his desk, shaking his head with a sigh.

“What even is that?” he mumbles to himself, typing the site into his laptop. “ XXXVid- This is so stupid. Just use PornHub at that point.”

He’s accosted immediately by thumbnails of naked women and men with penises that just have to be cosmetically enlarged. He plugs his headphones in quickly, very much not needing any audio surprises from this site, and makes an account, rolling his eyes when he needs to come up with a username.

When he’s done, he types your name into the search bar.

“ Tokyo…lovely, ” he says as he types, and then his middle finger hovers over the Enter key.

His goal really is just to look at how you’ve set up your account. He just wants to see the general tone of your channel. If you’re loud or quiet. If you’ve marketed yourself as one of those gentle, virginal girls or as a sex freak that makes a lot of noise. He needs to know these things, so he knows how to perform tomorrow. It’s logical. It makes sense.

But still, he sits here, finger hovering over the key while he contemplates it. He’d gone through the entire contract with you and revealed his deepest interests – previously experienced or otherwise. But this feels like a move he can’t take back. Once he does this, he will have seen your body, and that’s irreversible.

You agreed to this, you idiot.

He groans, jamming his finger down on the key before he can think further about it. The website buffers long enough that he wonders about that virus again, and then it loads.

Oh.

His heart jumps, and he finds himself looking away from his screen and glancing nervously around his living room, as though he doesn’t live completely alone. And then he looks back, met with the sight of your body.

He can only tell it’s you because he knows it’s you, and – looking at you in a set of black lingerie in the first thumbnail – this body looks like yours. The next thumbnail has you in a mismatched bra-panty pair, and, in the video after, you’re not wearing anything at all. He sucks in a breath, glancing away every few seconds while he scrolls, because it feels wrong to stare. He focuses on the titles, testing every ounce of his reading comprehension in this moment.

[Oct. 19] Shy Girl Fingers Herself to Orgasm

“Shy?” he mumbles, shaking his head. “Yeah, right.”

[Oct. 18] Virgin Sends Masturbation Video to Boyfriend

“Not a virgin,” he says. “No boyfriend.”

[Oct. 17] Girl Makes Herself Squirt on Friend’s Couch

“Not a friend’s cou-Wait.” He blinks.

You can squirt ?

The room becomes noticeably warmer as he stares down at the little thumbnail of you curled up on the couch in your spare room. He’d intended to watch one video, just to see the extent of your editing, but he’d meant only to skim through it, skipping parts and examining the video from a purely analytic standpoint.

But… Well, if he’s going to watch one, anyway…

He drags his mouse over it, about to click into it, when a pop-up banner appears from the left side of his screen.

TOKYOLOVELY IS ACTIVE NOW – SAY HI!

Keiji jumps, feeling as though he’s been caught doing something awful. And then he sighs heatedly and clicks on the banner, watching it open to an empty chat box.

[10:35 PM]

tokyohandsome: stop anxiously scrolling through your own videos

tokyolovely: YOU FUCK, YOU CHOSE THAT NAME ON PURPOSE

tokyohandsome: get offline, tokyolovely

tokyolovely: youre not allowed to watch the one of me with that dildo in doggy

Keiji blinks hard. The what ? Where you’re what ?

tokyohandsome: go to bed, youre driving me nuts

tokyohandsome: wait-

tokyohandsome: can you see which video i view????

tokyolovely: …. if i say yes will you exit this website

tokyohandsome: ill take that as a no.

tokyolovely: YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHICH ONE YOU WATCH

tokyohandsome: goodnight, lovely <3

tokyolovely: i hate you.

He laughs to himself, bright and hidden in his hand.

tokyohandsome: do you get paid for interacting with viewers in dms?

tokyolovely: yes.

tokyohandsome: do i decide how much they give you?

tokyolovely: … it’s a rating after i log off.

tokyohandsome: then you better say goodnight to me and log off, lovely <3

tokyolovely: ….. goodnight, handsome.

tokyohandsome: :((

tokyolovely: …. <3

tokyohandsome: :))

TOKYOLOVELY HAS LOGGED OFF

He sighs, pleased, and gives you a five-star rating like he’d always intended, closing the chat. He’s tempted to go looking for that video of you in doggy position, but he respects your hyper-specific request and returns to the video he’d originally seen. He clicks on it now, nerves a bit eased after that absurd interaction with you, and settles back in his chair.

The video starts with you in your underwear, touching yourself gently through the fabric. He watches with distant interest as you squeeze your breasts through your bra and then drop one hand to the spot between your thighs that’s currently hidden by how you’re curled up. You touch yourself vaguely, and he hears the beginnings of a moan, quiet in his headphones.

The sound grows the longer you continue, and he wonders if those moans sound faked because they’re obviously so or because he knows you. From the many years of hearing your voice – albeit never in this situation – he can’t imagine that this is what you would actually sound like if you were feeling good. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he watches you start to slide the panties down your thighs.

He’s certain he can pull better sounds out of you than that.

He watches a few moments longer, genuinely critiquing the video and your performance, if only to gauge how he should act, too.

But then you drop your panties on the couch beside you, sighing breathily, and move to unhook your bra. Keiji’s eyebrows lift as you slip the straps off, and suddenly he’s not thinking about things he plans to do differently as your business partner.

You prop your feet up on the couch and spread your legs, and he spreads his, too, unconsciously, eyes dropping to your exposed core. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and he shifts in his seat, his sweats becoming suspiciously tight. He watches you on his laptop screen – the way your fingertips swipe over your clit in two tight circles before dropping to your entrance – and he swallows, committing the motion to memory, because he’s here to study. To study .

He blinks hard, shifting again and ignoring the way his cock twitches in his pants and strains against the band. He watches you dip both fingers into your entrance before slipping out, and he has the torturous thought that your fingers look a lot smaller than his. You repeat the motion three or four times, working yourself open until you can fit both fingers up to the knuckles.

You moan in Keiji’s ears, loud and a little gratuitous – but he moans back.

He palms himself through his sweats, watching you finger yourself. His breath hitches, and his stomach swirls with nerves, and he feels a wave of desire crash over him.

And then he hears your voice, in that note you’d sent him.

‘-feels super unfair – You’ll have seen my whole body, and I won’t have seen yours-’

He groans, throwing his head back against his chair briefly, and reaches for his phone before he can overthink.

“ Fuck it, ” he mumbles in a strained voice, opening the camera and propping his phone up against the stack of books on his desk.

He presses record.

–

At 11pm, you get a text.

You’ve sat on your bed the last thirty minutes, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly as you think about what Akaashi could be watching. You wonder if he’s actually watched anything, or if he’s just skimming the thumbnails and titles, or maybe if he’d just logged off right after you, satisfied with teasing you a little.

You feel painfully vulnerable in your state of not knowing. You have no clue what you’re walking into tomorrow. At least before, you were partially comforted in that neither of you had seen the other naked, and also in that neither of you had been with someone else in at least a year. There had been an air of safety, knowing that you and Akaashi were on relatively equal ground.

You’re horribly underground, now.

So, when his first text comes through, the banner pulling down over the top of your screen, you think the worst.

[10:59 PM]

Akaashi : [Video Attached]

What is that? What did he do? Did he record your videos on his phone? Is he commenting on them? At the very worst, he’s making fun of you, and at the very best, he’s offering you tips to improve your filming or editing. You really don’t know which you hate more.

But then his second text comes in, this banner replacing the last.

Akaashi: making it a little less unfair.

“ What? ” you mumble, brows furrowed as you click on the notification. Your phone jumps to the text thread, and you squint at the thumbnail of the video. It’s just him leaning toward the camera with a furrowed brow, seated at his desk in grey sweats and a white t-shirt, with his glasses perched on his nose and his hair slightly wet from what’s probably a recent shower. He’s got headphones in, and there’s something bright on his laptop screen.

It’s the glare in the corner of his glasses, a reflection of his laptop screen, that makes your heart leap.

You know that pale green sheet.

“What… the fuck …?” You bring the phone close to your face, too scared to press play . “Is that asshole live-reacting to my video?” With a trembling finger, your click on the video.

And you realize immediately what’s happening.

Akaashi settles back in his chair with a heated sigh, his tongue darting out as he watches his screen. It’s because he leaned back that you can see properly now – the tent in his pants, the hand he presses over the outline of his cock with a quiet sigh.

Your jaw drops. He’s-

His eyes track your movement on the screen, which you can now see clearly in the glare of his glasses, and his bottom lip catches between his teeth. He breathes hard, palming himself through his sweats as he watches your video. He glances once at his own camera, clearly nervous about recording this, but then his eyes widen and fly to his screen, whatever sound you’d just made in his headphones drawing his attention completely.

“ Oh, f- ” He purses his lips, and you feel yourself leaning in, wanting to hear what he’d been about to say. He blinks rapidly, eyes trained on one spot – you can see exactly which video it is now, and your heart jumps when you recognize the way your own body moves in the reflection of his glasses.

So that’s what he’s into.

You spend so long staring at the reflection in his glasses that you nearly miss the way he starts to move. You drop your eyes in time to catch him lifting his hips just enough to slide his sweats down to his thighs. He tucks one hand into his boxers, and you watch with parted lips as Akaashi Keiji’s eyes roll back into his head.

“ Fuck, ” he breathes, his head dropping back momentarily, and your mouth falls open more, your brain stunned into nothingness as you watch him masturbate to a video of you masturbating. As you realize that this isn’t just anyone watching one of your videos – liking one of your videos.

This is Akaashi Keiji.

Akaashi Keiji’s just given you the confirmation that you’re good at this, after so many weeks of feeling quite the opposite.

“Oh,” you breathe, the sticky heat of understanding washing over your skin. It worsens when he uses his free hand to tug his boxers down, making this ground feel suddenly a lot more equal.

Oh.

Akaashi keeps his eyes glued to his screen, and you catch a glimpse of your on-screen self coming more and more undone. You examine him closely while he watches it, too – his lips are swollen and wet from pursing and biting at them, and there’s a flush high on his cheeks and a hooded, hazy quality to his eyes that makes your stomach flip with nerves. His tongue darts out again, wetting his pink lips just as he’s parting them to sigh.

Your eyes drop, watching how he slides his palm against his cock, slick with precum and making the most impolite, soft squelching sound whenever he flicks his wrist. Your thighs press together instinctively, a hard throb pulsing through your core when his hips jerk slightly.

His breathing speeds up, as does the flick of his wrist, and you realize in the reflection that you must be starting to squirt. Akaashi grips the arm of his desk chair with his free hand and presses his lips together, his moan muffled but still audible. His hips jerk and stutter, and then his eyes roll back into his head again as he comes all over his hand and stomach, streaks of white painting the back of his hand and wrist.

His lips part in a gasp and a rough sigh as he’s coming down, and he slumps against his chair, breathing hard as he stares at nothing – the screen is dark in his glasses now. He drags his clean hand through his hair, tugging hard and breathing out a soft ‘ fuck ’. He breathes twice more, and then his eyes flick to his camera, as though he’s only just remembered it’s there.

He sees himself in the video and rolls his eyes immediately, a breathless laugh leaving him as he shakes his head and looks away.

“ Uh, ” he says, still laughing. He leans forward, reaching with his free hand for the phone, and shakes his head again. “ See you tomorrow, I guess.”

The video cuts there, leaving you with silence and a sudden, overwhelming attraction to Akaashi Keiji.

Oh.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi smut

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kimis-gloves · 8 months ago

Text

sour - charles leclerc

word count : 780 - oneshot

hehe a lil charlie smut>:)

warnings: morning sex, dirty talk, petnames, if you squint very hard then angst?? but not rlly, softdom!charles, slight degrading, post/pre shower sex.

as early in the morning as it was, you hear Charles turning on the shower, humming whatever song he has stuck in his head from the never ending party you two went to last night. through your raging headache, you miss the warmth of your boyfriend so you stumble your way into the connecting bathroom, still in his hoodie that you managed to change into at 4:30 in the morning. Charles, already in the shower, washing off the sticky champagne & sweat. Coming p2 in Australia was something to be proud of, but he didnt feel proud. he hoped to do better next time as he hears y/n stumble her way into the bathroom, quickly going for a pee before speaking to charles through the glass doors.

“Good morning charles, ill start us some coffee”

“Thank you my love”

as you head out to make charles his favourite way of coffee, he finishes his shower and steps out to dry himself off and thats when you walk back in, coffees in hand. he looks absolutely amazing like this. hes stood infront of the large window, in nothing but a towel. the water beading off of him and dripping out of his hair. you set down the coffees and make your way towards the drool worthy man thats infront of you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you leave soft and wet kisses along his jawline. already being in somewhat of a sour mood, charles doesn’t appreciate your teasing and takes things into his own hands as he quickly grabs you by your hips and bends you over the counter top, almost knocking off the now close to cold coffees.

“Char-“

“A-Ah, no talking cherie, just let me take care of you right now~”

and with that you did. quickly shutting up for him as you let the man take however much control he desired from you. you thank him for any type of touch that he gives you. he goes to quickly pull down your panties, when he realizes you dont even have any on.

“What a dirty girl you are cherie.. no panties and already dripping out of your cunt like this? My my, im not sure what i should do with such a whore like you.”

he aggressively puts a hold into your hair and pulls you up to be face close to charles, breathing rapidly as he whispers,

“dont move, dont make a sound or else you will regret it. listen as i say and you wont have to suffer, am i clear darling?”

“Yes c-Charles” you say with a whine

“Hm, i dont think i was” he mutters, slowly sliding his tip along your slick-coated pussy. you whine again when he quickly smacks the side of your thigh “No noise, slut” he growls before shoving his 2 fingers into your mouth, allowing you to lick and spit on them. pulling them out and away from your mouth he instead inserts them both into your cunt.

fighting back moans, you clench your walls around charles’ fingers, letting him know how much you want to be filled his his cock.

“mon amour you feel so good, i cant wait to fill you with my cum.” he grumbled into your ear as he finally inserts his cock into your aching cunt, he bottoms out with a low hum into your ear. he slowly grinds into your pussy, drawing out lewd sounds from both of you. both you and Charles have given up on trying to keep you quiet as he just gets completely lost into your body. he sets a firm & steady pace, nearly knocking you out as he suddenly slams into you, the noise that leaves both your and his mouth is something that belongs in a porno. he wraps around your torso, one hand grabbing and pinching onto your nipple and the other reaching down to your throbbing clit. the sudden sensation is enough to set you over and soon enough you find yourself cumming all over his cock and fingers, him quickly following after as the tight & wet feeling on his cock is just too good not to cum from.

slowly pulling out of you, he’s planting kisses all over your body. turning the shower back on as he guides you in, making sure the water is the perfect temperature and that you aren’t going to topple over.

“my love, i should probably go remake these coffees” Charles laughs, placing a kiss onto your temple. as you watch Charles put his clothes on and leave the bathroom, coffees in hand, you couldn’t be more thankful to have such a perfect boyfriend like him.

a/n: i hope u enjoyed❤️ this was just something small. likes & reblogs always appreciated ❤️❤️

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cranberryjuice-posts · 10 months ago

Text

Kissin I hope they caught us

Pairings - clarisse x fem! Daughter of Hecate reader

Synopsis - secrete relationship

The Ares Kids scoffed as clarisse shoved them out of the cabin.

“This is our cabin to you can’t just kick us out when you want” kyler complained as he grabbed his shoes. Clarisse on the other hand didn’t care.

“You should be thanking me since your lazy ass can’t even swing that sword correctly” she shoved a sword into his chest. “Train and maybe I’ll let the rest of y’all back in— you all have been slacking and that’s clear since the other team has beaten us three fucking times this past month in capture the flag, get your act together”

The rest of the cabin didn’t say anything in response just quickly moving out. Once they were gone clarisse leaned back against the ladder that leaned upstairs.

“Hey”

“Holy shit!” She yelled. You stood behind her laughing, being a daughter of Hecate you had some minor godly abilites some being witchcraft and shadow travel. “How many times to I have to tell you to stop fucking sneaking up on me like that” she complained but wrapped her hands around your waist and place a light kiss on your lips.

You giggled and wrapped your arms around her neck before mumbling against her. “Yeah Well you love me so you’ll get over it, and I’m on time this time 9:30 am” you grinned against her lips.

She just chuckled and put a hand to the side of your face looking down at you with such a soft look that if anyone else saw it they wouldn’t believe it was her, her face soon turned more sarcastic however. “How does your mommy feel about you making out with the daughter of war”

you raised an eyebrow. “And How does your daddy feel about his favorite daughter making out with a Demi-Titan”

Clarisse scoffed. “Don’t call yourself that, your as much of a demigod as anyone else here” you rolled your eyes. “Ok Claire”

“I’m serious y/n—“

“Clarisse what is Hecate”

“A goddess” she answered almost as if it was fact. You however gave her an unamused look. “Fine she’s a Titan — but she has an honorary spot among the Olympians because she sided with them in the fight against Kronos making her a goddess”

“Still she’s a Titan so technically I would be a Demi-Titan theres nothing wrong we me admitting that and do you really think I give to shits what anyone else thinks” you leaned into her once again and kissed her. Clarisse Just sighed in defeat into the kiss and pulled you closer.

Soon you found yourself in clarisses bed which was a single bed in the corner of the upstairs part of the cabin, she had a curtian nailed to the wall for more privacy as her cabin was mostly guys and he bed placed against the window.

You sat on her waist while both of you continued to kiss. A few sly and sarcastic remarks here n there but that just made it all the more enjoyable.

You tucked a stray curl behind clarisses ear. “You know your pretty right”

“You tell me Everyday” she sarcastically replied but you just hummed. “Yeah Well It’s True”

The ares cabin door loudly opened and clarisse groaned knowing her siblings were back. “Fuck” she scoffed.. Clarisse moved you off of her and stepped out of her bed making sure the curtian was closed before looking over the side of the railing. “What the hell are you doing back so early?”

Her siblings didn’t noticed clarisses disheveled appearance. Mark spoke up. “Paula got into a fight with a Demeter kid so Chiron told us all to go to the cabin for the rest of the day because he didn’t want us to cause more problems.” Clarisse let out a pissed off sigh.

“Whatever” she groaned and went back to her bed.. Clarisse lifted the curtian slightly and slid in. she leaned into you and kissed you softly before whispering. “Get outta here k.. I’ll see you around”

You nodded and kissed her Mkay” before you left however she grabbed your wrist. “Sneak back in later tonight” with that clarisse let you go, watching as you disappeared into the shadows

——

The camp was down at the lake, they were all either swiming- in the canoes or on the rubber mats in the water.

Clarisse snuck away from her cabin and walked into the woods.. she saw you leaning against a tree and smiled. She grabbed your waist softly and pulled you into a kiss. You pulled away and giggled. “Mm careful clarisse my girlfriend likes to beat up people”

Clarisse Rolled her Eyes playfully. “Oh No, we better not get caught then huh” you giggled as she leaned in to kiss you once again. You gently tugged clarisses hair to mess with her, laughing into the kiss as she pinched your sides.

“Y/n where a—“ an aphrodite girl paused when she saw the scene. You shoved clarisse back some embarrassed.. you watched as the daughter of Aphrodite ran away worried that the cat was now out of the bag but clarisse didn’t seem to mind. “Lise” you complained and pushed her head off your neck but she just gave you a sarcastic look.

“Hm”

“We Just got caught by drew, drew Tanaka Aphrodite girl?! Lise she’s gonna tell everyone”

Clarisse Just shrugged her shoulders and continued to kiss you. “Whatever i hope she tells everyone, gives me more of a reason to show you off” she kissed your cheek before kissing your lips once again.

“Huh” you panted confused. Clarisse pulled away with a raised eyebrow. “Did I stutter? I wanna show you off, not let anyone else mess around with you”

She laughed at your blushing cheeks “let’s get back before the camp thinks we’re fucking out here, we both know how drew changes the truth” she grinned and grabbed your hand leading you back to the camp.

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse my beloved #clarisse larue #clarisse x reader #pjo #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction

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ladycaramelswirl · 3 months ago

Text

It Happened in Texas

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader ❤︎

Chapter 3: You’re not trying to get fired - it’s just raw talent

series masterlist

A/N: The case in this chapter is based on s4e2 where Hotch ignores the doctors orders and goes straight to work after tearing his eardrum 🤡

tags: minor grovelling, slow burn. Hotch needs a hug. Some canon typical violence and a few uses of y/n. Sorry for any typos.

Word count: 2.8k

Enjoy! 🤍

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

You are so fired.

Strauss is getting impatient with your fruitless reports. Hotch and you are not on great terms. In fact, since Jack’s party, he’s been avoiding you like the plague. He isn’t ignoring you or glaring at you anymore, but for some reason, he now never pairs himself up with you and keeps his emails to you even shorter than before. He also refuses to talk to you when Jack comes to visit and spends all his time at your desk. It had taken you months and a 5 year old to give you the courage to make any friends on the team. So why are you standing here, scolding your boss? You must have an innate talent for getting fired.

“Hotch. If you think that never hearing Jack say I love you again, or never hearing him laugh again is worth getting back in the field straight away, I’ll think you’re insane, but I’ll never bring it up again. However, I don’t think you’re willing to tell your son his dad can’t hear him anymore because he wasn’t taking care of himself”.

You take a deep breath, and add for good measure,

“Sir”.

Hotch stares at you. You are not a confrontational person (at least with your colleagues). And right now you were so out of line. While everyone else might have warmed up to you, you and Hotch aren’t exactly friends. But you had gotten to know Jack, who had been the catalyst to you becoming friends with the team. He’s probably the only reason that you don’t hate your job now. You love that kid. And after seeing Hotch clutch his ears at the graveyard and overhearing him ignore Morgan when asked if he was cleared to fly, you felt you needed to say something. Clearly no one else was going to.

But why wasn’t Hotch saying anything? You shuffle your feet and try not to think about your face heating up from embarrassment. Where was the person from 30 seconds ago who was basically scolding her boss? Your resolve had completely evaporated. And now you were nervous. Which was a very bad thing to be in front of a profiler.

“I know that you’re my boss and we aren’t exactly friends, but I’m saying this as a…”, what were you exactly? An overeager people pleaser who had just gotten the team to get used to working with you. And an idiot who is currently screwing up her chances of staying employed at the one job you had left. “As a person who respects you a lot”, you decide on. This is definitely true. He was a good person, even if he clearly didn’t like you. He might be avoiding you, but he’s still polite. And if he didn’t say something soon, you were going to say something stupid.

“You’re also the best boss I’ve ever had, so if you permanently lose your hearing and have to be taken out of the field, that would suck for me too”, you laugh nervously.

Damn it, you were already in saying stupid things territory. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Oh god, what if your rant was hurting his ears? You start whispering.

“Are you okay? Am I being too loud? I’m sorry, I’m just going to shut up”, you say softly. He’s still staring.

“I should go now”, you mumble and promptly run away, immediately making your way to the precinct bathroom and locking yourself in a stall. Why did you say anything? The rest of the team had just left him alone, but you were never a fan of turning a blind eye to people’s problems. It just didn’t seem right. Despite the fact that the other team members are clearly each other’s family, you are technically just a coworker. So you’ve definitely overstepped, but it just didn’t seem right to let it happen. To Jack. Not Hotch. Though technically you did care about Hotch too. As a friend. Probably.

“Hey, you okay in there?”

You startle from your thoughts and see Emily’s shoes from under the stall. You quickly shake yourself together and flush the toilet you clearly haven’t used before coming out.

“Yeah? Am I not allowed to pee?”, you laugh, washing your hands. Emily frowns, but knows better than to press. She might have seen you run out of a precinct conference room you’d been alone with Hotch in, but you’re not going to tell her why and she doesn’t overstep boundaries. She pretends to believe you and moves the conversation to the case. The team has figured out who the unsub is and are about to raid her house. You both leave the bathroom and move towards the SUVs with everyone else. Everyone except Hotch.

“We gotta go. Where the hell’s Hotch?”, Derek asks.

“He was on the phone with Strauss, said he wanted us to go without him”, Rossi says, walking to the passenger seat. “Let’s go”.

Derek shrugs his shoulders and everyone piles into the cars. You feel your stomach drop. Technically you did just tell your superior off. Was he going to report you for insubordination? Maybe he had had enough and was finally telling Strauss to transfer you. He hadn’t wanted you on the team in the first place. If you get fired from the BAU you’ll probably have to leave the FBI. You shake your head. Whatever happens, the case comes first. You need to stop the unsub before she hurts anyone else.

You try to forget about your earlier conversation with Hotch and focus on the case. The unsub’s apartment is empty, but Rossi finds her next target, Faye Landreaux, in her journal. You all drive to her house and Emily distracts the unsub while Morgan sneaks Faye outside. She’s trembling like a leaf and doesn’t respond when you ask if she’s okay, so you guide her to a paramedic to make sure she hasn’t gotten any injuries. Technically your priority right now should be the unsub, but the entire police department and 4 FBI agents have a gun pointed at her and Faye is completely alone. You don’t feel right leaving her yet, so once she’s been looked at, you try to talk to her when you hear a gunshot from behind you. Faye cries out and you let her know she’s okay. The sheriff has shot the unsub. It’s over. A police officer the victim knows starts talking to her so you move back to the team. Emily pulls back the unsub’s shirt to reveal that she had maimed herself to become the “Angel Maker’s” last victim. You fail to not feel nauseous.

It’s late, so you’re all staying the night in Ohio. On the drive, everyone’s talking about how early they have to get up tomorrow. You look out the window and can’t stop thinking about love and what it does to people. What it did to Chloe Kelcher. To all of the “Angel Maker’s” fans. Female unsubs that hurt other women always bothers you more than other cases. Emily notices your silence.

“You okay?”, she asks quietly.

“Just tired”, you smile. If she notices it doesn’t reach your eyes, she doesn’t mention it. She nudges her knee against yours - an ‘I’m here if you need me’ without words.

You nudge her back - ‘thanks. I know’. She smiles. You really are tired though - it’s 2am because the unsub liked attacking at night - and you stifle a yawn. You’re about to fall asleep when the car abruptly stops, signalling your arrival.

It’s a cute inn, the owner offered you all free rooms for the night as a thanks for capturing the unsub. Everyone piles out, eager to go to bed. You’re suddenly awake though when you see who’s in the lobby handing out keys - Hotch. He’s looking straight at you. Everyone grabs their keys and turns in for the night. If anyone notices you and Hotch lag behind, they don’t say. He gestures to a corner with some armchairs.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

You nod, slowly taking a seat. You’re too afraid to speak and keep your eyes on the ground. Was he going to fire you now? In some inn in rural Ohio?

“Thank you.”

What?

You snap your head up to meet his gaze.

“I called Strauss earlier to let her know I’m taking 2 weeks off from the field. You were right earlier. What I’m doing isn’t fair to the team or to Jack. I want to apologise for putting you in a position where you felt you needed to tell your boss that he was being stupid. That shouldn’t have to be your responsibility.”

He looks straight into your eyes and you can see the sincerity flooded in his.

“I’ll be taking a car back to Quantico. I shouldn’t have gotten on a plane at all in my condition. You don’t have to worry about me.” He takes a breath. “And I appreciate you telling me what I needed to hear. Even if you shouldn’t have had to”, he adds.

You don’t know what to say, so you say the first thing that pops into your brain.

“I’m not fired?”

Aaron looks incredibly guilty.

“You thought I was going to fire you?”

You nod, still unable to form coherent thoughts in your relief.

“No you are definitely not fired. I’m sorry for making you feel like your job was on the line”, he says and feels even guiltier at the obvious release of tension in your shoulders. “If anything I should be fired for endangering you all with my inability to make sound decisions”, he sighs. “When you’re the boss, people become too afraid to tell you that you’re wrong. And sometimes I forget that I can be”.

You try to find the right words. “I don’t think being worried about people getting hurt when you’re not working is wrong”, you say. “But I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself. And thank you for apologising.”

Aaron nods at this, searching your eyes for something. He seems to be pleased with what he finds and stands up. You follow suit, and the both of you start to walk towards your rooms. You lapse into silence as you walk up the stairs until Hotch clears his throat.

“Well, when someone tells you that they respect you but you’re being insane, you rethink your priorities a little”, he chuckles, trying to break the ice.

You feel your entire face grow warm - you had forgotten that you had called him that.

“Sorry”, you mumble.

He stops abruptly and you turn to look at him.

“Please don’t ever apologise for what you said to me today.”

His gaze bores into you as if to try to make you understand. No wonder he has the most confessions from unsubs in interrogations. His stare is a little lethal. Your knees feel a little weak.

“Sorry for saying sorry?”, you manage.

He raises a brow at you.

“Ok. Then I’m not sorry?”, you offer. He smiles at this.

“Good. Because I’m very grateful it happened.”

You beam.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I do.”

You reach your room first. You move to unlock your door and he waits to make sure you get inside safety. Your hand stills on the doorknob and you turn around.

“I hope you know that it’s still true.”

He looks confused.

“I still respect you. And now I respect you for being able to step back. And for apologising. Maybe it doesn’t mean a lot coming from me, but I think you’re a great boss and a great dad. Jack is very lucky.” You meet his eyes so he knows you mean it. “You’re a good person, Hotch.”

A lump forms in Aaron’s throat. He doesn’t know how to tell you how much your words mean to him. He wishes, not for the first time in his life, that he was better at communicating his feelings. He shakes his head.

“It does mean a lot. I respect you too, Y/N.”He pauses, as if trying to find the perfect words. “You’re always looking at the good in people. Jack loves you. And you’re kind, not just with the team. When we catch unsubs you always make sure to take care of victims.”

Your eyes widen. You hadn’t known that he’d noticed.

“You’re smart, loyal, empathetic. I know that these last few months have been… unpleasant for you. And I’m sorry for my part in that. But I’m proud to have you on our team. I know that this morning you were just doing what was right, and earlier you said we aren’t friends, but you were the friend I needed today. So thank you.”

You blink, trying not to well up at his words. You don’t know if anyone’s ever said something like that to you. Afraid you might cry if you speak, you give him a hug. It’s quick, nothing intimate, but it feels righter than words in this moment. You take a step back.

“So we’re friends?”, you ask, opening the door to your room. He looks at you thoughtfully.

“I’d like to think so”, he smiles softly. You give him a smile back.

“Good night, Hotch.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

You sleep well that night for the first time in a while.

——

The next morning, you’re quiet as Hotch tells everyone he’s driving back to Quantico instead of taking the jet. You offer to take the drive with him, which surprises yourself just as much as the team. While you had gotten closer with the rest of the team in the last month, you and Hotch aren’t really close enough for you to voluntarily spend 7 hours in a car together. You’re not exactly sure why you offered either.

You’re too busy trying to get everyone on board that you all miss Rossi’s barely hidden glee at this unexpected development in your relationship.

“It’ll be fun!”, you say excitedly.

“I love you, but 7 hours is crazy baby girl”

“Long car trips make me nauseous. In fact there’s a correlation between-”

“Yeah no, the baby makes me carsick.”

“The thought of being trapped in a car for 7 hours makes me sick”

You’re a little sad because a group road trip would be fun, and it would help to have a buffer between you and Hotch, but it is unfair to force everyone into something they’re uncomfortable with, so you give everyone a hug goodbye before sliding into the passenger seat beside Hotch. You can almost feel him overthinking.

“You don’t have to do this”, he says.

“I know. I want to”, you tell him. Surprisingly, this is true.

He stares at you.

“It’s 7 hours”

“It’ll be longer if you keep arguing with me”, you shrug.

He stares at you some more.

“I’m not leaving you to do this alone. Plus 7 hours isn’t that long if you’re with a friend”

He smiles at this.

“A friend?”

“Unless you’re taking back what you said last night?”, you ask tentatively. Had he just been reacting to what you said to him? What if-

“No. I meant everything I said”, he says firmly, looking directly at you to make sure you know he’s serious. His gaze that felt intimidating last night, now somehow makes you feel calm. But it might take a while before you can maintain eye contact with him. You turn to face the road.

“Good. Now drive, or I’ll call Reid and ask him to explain the statistics of car crashes in Ohio”, you tease. His eyes crinkle in amusement.

“Driving right now”.

You grin and start looking at your CD options.

“If I’m your friend does this mean I get to choose where we eat lunch?”, he asks.

You roll your eyes.

“You didn’t let me drive so I’m picking lunch.”

“Yes ma’am”.

Bonus scene:

“They’re driving here together from Ohio? Doesn’t Hotch hate her?”, Penelope asks through the screen.

“I don’t think he hates her. Don’t you remember what it was like when I first joined?”, Emily asks the team.

“We never hated you! Except maybe Spencer. But that was a whole other thing. I just don’t get why he still doesn’t like her. She’s so sweet”, Penelope pouts.

“He didn’t tell her no, so that’s an improvement”, Derek reasons.

“I didn’t hate Emily!”, Spencer scoffs.

Emily raises an eyebrow at him which causes him to sputter.

“Well ok I wasn’t very nice to you at first. But it wasn’t because I hated you”, he tries to explain. Emily mouths a quick “I know” to let him know she’s joking.

“I don’t think Hotch has ever hated Y/N”, Rossi chuckles. “He just needs time.”

Everyone nods. They all relied on him now, but Hotch was famous for being cold at first. Rossi grins at everyone missing his point. Being the only profiler on the team with relationship experience made for excellent entertainment. They’ll get it at some point, he thinks, sipping his drink.

(to be continued)

Main Masterlist

#criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader

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kiarastromboli · 1 year ago

Text

You’re mine (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Masterlist.

Warning: smut content, drug mention, toxic relationship, argument, rough sex.

Summary: y/n and Chris are in a toxic relationship, and y/n is about to tell him that she wants to end it.

Note: This fanfic is entirely inspired by a past relationship I had. I want to emphasize that I'm writing it as a way to talk about my experiences and for fun. If you're in a similar relationship, please, for your well-being, escape. Don't let anyone, under any circumstances, treat you this way. It's destructive, trust me, it's not worth it.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Here I am again on a Thursday night at 12:30 AM, sneaking out to see the boy I promised to stop seeing.

I'm pathetic; it only took one message for me to go against my principles, and now I find myself making the same mistake that I've been repeating for over a year.

But this time is different; tonight, I'm going to end this toxic relationship once and for all.

The boy I'm talking about? Chris, a guy from my high school with whom I've been in a secret relationship for a little over a year.

It all started when he replied to one of my Instagram stories. At the time, I had no idea how much of an asshole this guy was. I was naive and carefree, smoking joints with my friends to have fun, and I only knew Chris by sight.

He hung out with the "cool" people at school—the ones my friends and I desperately tried to become by smoking and adopting a delinquent attitude.

When Chris responded to my story, telling me he found me cute, I couldn't believe my eyes. No one really paid attention to me despite all the effort I put in.

Anyway, after a bit of conversation and some innuendos, I eventually understood what he wanted from me: to hook up. And, to be honest, that was enough for me. I was ready to settle for just that if it meant being closer to him.

That same night, I sneaked out to smoke a joint with him, and I discovered a whole new Chris, far from the one I saw at school.

He was funny, attentive, nice, caring, and very open. I quickly felt comfortable with him; the connection was great. Eventually, we ended up sleeping together in his room.

I had sex with a guy before him, but it didn't go well, and I didn't know much about it. Chris was super understanding and took his time with me. He helped me discover my body and taught me how to please myself and him.

Our relationship helped me become more comfortable with myself. Chris always took the time to kiss every inch of my body to make me understand how beautiful he found me.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n."

"I forbid you to have any complexes; you're perfect."

"Look at yourself; you're gorgeous."

You're probably wondering why our relationship is toxic if Chris helped me so much. Well, the thing is, our relationship has always been a double-edged sword. When the doors were closed, and it was just him and me, everything was fine. He only had eyes for me, complimented me, and listened attentively. But as soon as we were in public, everything changed.

I wish he had just ignored me because he didn't want to acknowledge our relationship, and that was the case at the beginning. But it went much further than that over time.

At first, he ignored me at school, and it hurt a little, but I signed up for it. He made it clear he didn't want anyone to know about us, so I had no say in the matter.

But over time, his friends and mine became friends, and we started hanging out together before, during, and after classes.

That's when things took a different turn. I knew I had to keep a low profile, so I tried to keep my distance from him without looking suspicious when our friends hung out together. However, he started acting strangely.

Whenever I opened my mouth to say something, he hurried to cut me off, diverting attention to himself, making me look like a fool.

Whenever he had the chance, he made more or less hurtful comments about me to amuse the group.

"What's with this outfit? You look like a clown."

"Are you naturally stupid, or did it come with time?"

"You know, you can hide behind all the makeup you want; we still see your face underneath."

In short, he acted like a real jerk when people were around, and in parties, it was even worse. He would grab my attention and then proceed to hook up with other girls right in front of me, as if to provoke me.

He spent all his time humiliating me. The thing is, it happened gradually. It started with a few tasteless jokes from time to time, so I never really took the initiative to defend myself. I don't know why, but I already felt like a fool, and I didn't want to worsen my situation.

At first, I tried talking to him privately to understand why he did that, why he treated me like his princess in private but like a dog the rest of the time. And his responses were always the same.

"Babe, don't stress; it's just how we joke around with my friends."

"It's not a big deal; I just had a bit too much to drink. It happens."

"I treat you the same way I treat my friends so that we don't look suspicious. You know very well that I don't mean any of what I say in front of them, Y/n."

And after that, he would kiss me and make me forget everything with a few caresses. I blamed myself for being so weak, but he was so good with me.

I felt alive and considered with him. No one looked at me the way he did, and no one treated me like he did. But what I hated more than anything was the way I belonged to him while knowing that he didn't belong to me at all.

"You're mine, Y/n; I don't want any other guys putting their hands on you."

"We're not together; I have the right to see other people."

"Who the fuck was that guy in your story this morning?"

I found it cute that he was jealous, but I quickly understood that it was just possessiveness. I was his trophy, and he loved knowing that I adored him, maintaining this destructive little link between us.

I struggled to realize that it was bad for me; I idealized him so much that I normalized his awful behavior towards me. I reached a point where I thought it was the price to pay for having such a perfect guy by my side.

I know it sounds insane, and you probably judge me, but when I met Chris, I was not doing well. I felt bad, lost, and he helped me appreciate life again. He helped me with my body and mind, treated me like a princess, and I was ready to endure all of this not to lose what he gave me.

It was like a drug; without him, I was doing very badly. As long as he was there, everything was better, but I knew it was destroying me, and I knew it was bad. However, cutting ties with him meant giving up on my happiness, and I didn't have the strength for that.

I began to realize how bad it was on the day I broke down publicly with him, during a party with our friends.

Start of the flashback:

What a shitty night; I'm wasted, and Chris shows up with another one of his girls. I don't want to see him; he disgusts me.

I headed to the kitchen to take another shot when I felt hands wandering on my hips. I immediately turned around in surprise to find a Chris even more drunk than me. "Oh my god, Chris, don't touch me," I spat out, rolling my eyes before removing his hands from me.

He chuckled before leaning into my ear to say, "She doesn't suck as well as you, you know?" I felt anger boiling inside me; I pushed him away before starting to walk towards the terrace where the others were.

"Hey, I'm kidding; it's fine, don't make a scene for that, Y/n," he said, grabbing my wrist as I reached the door leading to the terrace.

"Damn it, let go of me, you asshole," I said, opening the door and breaking free from his grip. "Go to hell, Chris," I shouted, unintentionally drawing the attention of others to us.

Chris clenched his jaw and shot me a hateful look when he realized that everyone was fully focused on us. "Stop acting like a bitch and giving a show in front of everyone, Y/n; I don't have time for your bullshit," he snapped, and everyone around us sighed, shocked.

I felt tears welling up. "Damn it, what's your problem with me? Just leave me alone!" I said before breaking down and leaving the party.

End of the flashback.

After that night, nothing was the same. I hated him in public, always making a promise to myself not to go see him again, until he sent a message, and I caved.

It was always the same, the same message, "Come smoke a joint with me." I said no the first time, he insisted, promising it was just to smoke a joint. I'd give in, we'd smoke, end up sleeping together, and again, I'd go back home annoyed at myself for succumbing once more. Secretly, I hoped that the next day, when we met in class, he'd treat me well. But it never happened; he always ended up treating me like crap, and the cycle continued when he sent another message.

A damn vicious circle I tried to break free from as best I could, and for a while, I succeeded. Three months had passed without giving in. Three months of ignoring his messages. But tonight, I allowed myself to go back because I wanted to tell Chris that it was officially over. I found a guy, and I was determined to forget Chris in the arms of this guy I had met a few weeks ago.

I knew it wasn't right, and I had promised not to go back, but it was stronger than me. I couldn't wait to give him a taste of his own medicine, to see his face when he learned the news. Yes, I was acting out of revenge, but you couldn't blame me; he had ruined my life for over a year. I had the right to get back at him.

Anyway, here I am, after a 15-minute walk, in front of his house. I knew where the keys were hidden; I was used to coming here. I stealthily entered his house, being careful not to wake up his parents or siblings. I headed to his room and stopped in front of his door.

Oh my god, what am I doing? Suddenly, stress invaded me, memories flooding back. I thought I was over this, but now, standing in front of his door again, all those good moments rushed back, only accelerating my heartbeat.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was too late; I was already here. I opened the door and closed it behind me, making sure to put the towel at the bottom to prevent the smell of weed from escaping his room.

I took a deep breath, memories swirling in my head—the smell of weed and his deodorant, the green glow of his LEDs, his slightly messy room—nothing had changed. Chris was slouched in the chair at his desk, shirtless, and hair disheveled. He had just finished rolling a joint, looked up at me, and I saw the smirk that I hadn't seen in ages. "Long time no see around here, princess."

"Yeah, I've been pretty busy," I replied, rolling my eyes before removing my sweater; it was unbearably hot in his room.

Chris stood up and started walking towards me. My heart raced, and I stood there, watching him approach. "I missed you," he said, running his hands over my waist.

I cleared my throat before moving towards his bed to sit at the edge. Damn, I just lost my composure in front of him. I was confident just a few minutes ago; all of this was a bad idea. "Shall we smoke this joint?" I said, hoping that the joint would help me feel more at ease to accomplish what I came here for.

He turned to me with a confused look before sitting back in his desk chair and grabbing his joint. "Very eager tonight?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm eager to shut you up and pass me that joint," I said, giving him a fake smile. He chuckled before lighting the joint and handing it to me.

"You're sexy when you're angry, you know?" he said, leaning towards me from his chair. I rolled my eyes before taking a drag.

"Three months without seeing me, and you're acting like a real bitch with me," he said, smiling and watching me smoke his joint without passing it back. "You're not even going to let me have a little, mama? Are you that angry with me?" he said, tilting his head to the side and placing his hand on my thigh.

I jumped at the contact of his hand on me, immediately passing him the joint, hoping he would take it with the hand resting on my thigh. However, he did the opposite, pulling his chair even closer to mine, blowing his smoke into my face. "You're chattier than that usually," he said, smiling before taking another massive drag and placing the joint on his desk. He then leaned in, burying his head in my neck, extracting a sigh from my lips.

He started kissing my neck, placing his hand on the back of my head to keep me in place. I couldn't help but tilt my head back, offering him better access, and as he nibbled on my skin, a warm sigh escaped my lips. I could already feel my panties getting wet at that moment.

My head began to spin, unsure if it was the effect of all those drags at once or the way he devoured my neck as if it were his last meal.

Suddenly, I regained my senses, remembering why I had come here in the first place. I pushed him back by the chest, forcing him to sit up on his chair. "Chris!" I said, catching my breath, and he looked at me confused when I did that.

"I didn't come here for this, damn it," I said, getting up from his bed and starting to walk away from him.

"Why are you here, then?" he asked, turning his chair towards me without leaving his chair.

"I came to end this, Chris. I'm tired of your shit," I told him, crossing my arms, and he chuckled. "Is that funny to you, you jerk?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

"Come on, baby, stop your drama. I acted like an idiot, let me make it up to you by having a good time," he said, getting up from his chair.

"No, it's over, Chris, I'm done," I replied sharply.

"You say that every time, y/n, and we always end up here," he sighed. "Can we avoid going through this again, please? You know very well that you and I won't end." He said this while caressing my arms once he reached my level. "These were the most complicated three months I've had since I've known you. You've punished me enough like this," he added, rolling his eyes.

"Do you hear what you're saying, Chris?" I said, shaking my head. "You don't even realize how toxic you are to me," I said, getting angry. "Damn, it took me three fucking months to have the courage to end this relationship. Three fucking months of crying and lamenting because of you, Chris."

"We'll figure it out, y/n. You can't just leave me because you're feeling bad; it's selfish!" he replied. "Do you think I was doing well these last three months? Fuck, y/n, we'll find a solution; we always find a solution."

"We always find a solution?" I said with a fake laugh. "Because treating me like crap in public is a solution for you, Chris?" I said, pushing him, carried away by my anger. "You only think about yourself; damn it, I can't fucking take it anymore. It's not a healthy relationship, none of this is healthy!"

"I told you I didn't want others to know about us, y/n. I don't like airing my life; you can't change who I am!" he said, advancing towards me.

"But damn it, you don't listen to anything I say!" I told him, shaking my head. "This discussion is fucking pointless; it's over. I found someone else, Chris, and he'll genuinely make me happy, not like you," I spat out full of rage before heading towards his door.

He grabbed my arm abruptly and violently slammed me against his door, causing me to release a groan of pain. "What the fuck did you just say?" he said through clenched teeth, bringing his face closer to mine and tightening his hand around my neck to force me to look him in the eyes, where I could see all his burning rage.

"You're hurting me," I said, closing my eyes as his grip tightened around my throat, forcing me onto the balls of my feet. It wasn't the right moment, I knew, but somewhere deep down, his reaction satisfied me. He was furious, and that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to feel the hatred he made me feel, and I knew he felt it at that moment.

His hold around my neck loosened, and a smirk appeared on my face. "You heard right, Chris. I found a guy better than you," I told him, looking him in the eyes before leaning toward his ear on tiptoes, resting my hands on his shoulders. "A guy way better than you for me, a guy who will treat me much better than you, and especially a guy who will fuck me much better than you," I whispered to provoke him.

I slowly faced him again, never breaking eye contact. He ran his hand over his face before pressing against the door behind me with his other hand. I could feel the anger boiling inside him, and I liked it. He raised his head to look at me before running his tongue over his teeth and fake laughing. "What's happening to you—" I started to say before being cut off by his lips on mine.

At first, I tried to push him away, but his hand caught both my wrists, pinning them above my head without his lips leaving mine.

No matter how much I resisted, it was useless. When I entered this room, I already knew how it would end, so I ended up giving in and kissing him back, letting his tongue into my mouth.

He pressed his body against mine, and the kiss was hungry and furious. I couldn't help but moan into his mouth. I must admit that this burning fire in the pit of my stomach had been missing, a sensation that only Chris had the power to provoke.

"You're mine, y/n," he growled before reconnecting our lips immediately.

"No, I'm not, Chris," I tried to deny despite having just succumbed for the thousandth time.

"Then why do you always end up here, huh?" he said between hungry kisses on my jaw and neck.

"Because—" I said, moaning as he started to nibble on my earlobe.

"Because you're mine," he insisted, placing his hand on the side of my neck. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget the name of that guy you're dating," he said, directing his lips towards my breasts.

"Chris—" I said before being interrupted by his hand on my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up, y/n," he said before pulling on my tank top to expose my chest and began kissing me. "This guy doesn't know you," he said, inserting one of his fingers into my mouth for me to suck, which I did. "I know you inside out. I know where to touch you and what to say," he said, straightening up so his face was in front of mine, lifting his knee between my legs to apply pressure to my pussy.

"I can't believe you even thought for a second that another man could ever fuck you better than me, baby," he said, smirking and rubbing against me, making me moan at the friction of my clothes against my clit.

"Chris, fuck," I said with his fingers still in my mouth. Suddenly, he pulled them out, removing my top in one swift motion. "Please, Chris," I said, desperate. At this point, I could deny it all I wanted, but this guy could reduce me to my knees with just one sentence. It had been three months since I had a proper orgasm.

"Please what? I thought you had someone else, someone better?" he said with a sly smile, grabbing a handful of hair at the back of my head and pulling to make me lift my head toward him. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he said, stopping the friction between my legs, driving me completely crazy.

"No, Chris, don't stop!" I said in a frustrated moan.

"Say it, y/n," he said authoritatively, looking me in the eyes and pulling harder on my hair. "Fine, since you don't want to say it," he said, dragging me by the hair to his bed where he threw me before swiftly removing my bottoms and panties in one go.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stop. I was dying to feel him inside me. I sat up from my previous position lying on the bed to kiss him. Before I could reach his lips, he pushed me onto the mattress with a sly smile, making me let out another frustrated moan. "Why?" I said, furrowing my brows.

He didn't answer and walked towards his dresser, taking out two pairs of handcuffs we had used in the past. I watched him come towards me with an apprehensive look. "Tell me if your new guy can make you cum like I can," he said, grabbing my face before suddenly releasing me and handcuffing both my arms to his bedframe.

"What are you doing, Chris?" I asked, feeling my breath quicken. He came to kiss me briefly, pushing me to pursue his lips in the hope of reconnecting them hungrily when he broke our kiss.

"Shhhhh," he simply replied before proceeding to kiss every inch of my body except where I really needed him to, making me squirm under his lips. "If only you were less complicated with me, y/n," he murmured, kissing the hollow of my waist. "You're driving me completely insane, y/n," he said, biting the inside of my thigh this time, prompting me to let out a moan.

"Chris," I said, unable to bear the way he teased me. "I need you, please," and with my words, he abruptly spread my legs and dove his head in.

He began licking my wetness from my hole before moving up to my clit, making me moan at the sensation. His left hand came to play with my breasts, while the fingers of his right hand teased my entrance as he stimulated my clit with his tongue, causing me to roll my eyes. "Oh my God, Chris," I said in a broken voice, trying to free my hands from the handcuffs to run them through his hair, but in vain.

Chris continued to groan against me, sending vibrations to my clit, making my head spin. Without warning, he inserted two fingers inside me, causing me to throw my head back and release another moan at the sensation.

He began to move his fingers in and out progressively faster, bending them inside me and hitting that spot that made me see stars. Chris knew perfectly well that he could make me climax very quickly; he knew me inside out. So when that familiar knot formed in the pit of my stomach, I didn't need to alert him for him to know that my orgasm was dangerously approaching. "Can you feel it coming?" he said, continuing to finger me. I simply nodded, too intoxicated by the impending orgasm to speak. "You want it?" he asked, accelerating the movement and making me lose my mind.

I was on the brink of climax when he withdrew his fingers without warning, making me moan in frustration and lift my head towards him. "Chris, no!" I gasped, "Don't stop, please." I pleaded desperately, closing my eyes and rubbing my thighs in the hope of feeling something.

"What's the matter? Did I frustrate you by making you think I was going to let you cum on my fingers?" he said mockingly. "Go ask your new guy to finish the job," he spat, grabbing my throat.

"I lied! Chris, I lied, please!" I said desperately. "No guy can make me cum like you!" I exclaimed, agitated and looking pathetic. "Fuck me, Chris, I beg you, just fuck me!"

He licked his lips while looking at me, then smiled and removed his underwear. I let out a whimper when I saw his member for the first time in three months. I bit my lip, remembering all the things he could do with it. "Did you miss this, little slut?" he said, slapping me before positioning himself between my legs. I nodded vigorously, making him smile. "I missed you, princess."

He began to slap his cock against my clit, making me lift my head and moan at the teasing sound. Then, he started rubbing against me without penetrating. "Chris, stop teasing me; I can't wait any longer," I said, frustrated and hungry.

"Say it, baby, say it, and I promise to give it to you. I promise to stop messing around, and I promise it'll be the last time you have to run away from me," he said between several kisses on my lips, jaw, ear, and neck.

I knew that if I said it, there would be no turning back. I knew that if I said it, the three months I've spent without him would have been for nothing. And I knew that if I said it this time, I was screwed. But it was Chris, the only guy who shone in my eyes. So, for the umpteenth time, I swallowed my pride and principles. "I'm yours, Chris, only yours."

He gradually entered me, almost making me scream when he hit the depth. "Fuck, I missed this pussy, baby," he said, moaning before starting to penetrate me. "I never want you to let anyone else touch you, do you hear me?" he said, thrusting abruptly into me, and I nodded furiously. "You're mine, y/n, only mine. Fuck!" he said, trying to contain his moans before burying his head in my neck to bite me.

"Oh my fucking God! Chris! Shit!" I exclaimed when he began to thrust in me at an inhuman speed. "Yes, yes, yes, don't stop, oh my-" I felt like I was losing my mind. He pressed his lips to mine to kiss me fiercely, our kiss filled with growls and moans.

"Damn, y/n, I missed you so much. Never leave again," he said, moaning against my lips and thrusting impossibly deeper.

"Never again, baby, I promise!" I said, looking at him with furrowed brows and a face tense with the pleasure I was receiving.

"You're the only good girl for me; I want no one else," he said, placing his forehead against mine while grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. "I'm going to do things right; I'm going to fix things for you," he said, moaning when I started to clench around him.

"Chris, I—fuck, please," I uttered a sentence that made no sense. I no longer had the ability to formulate a coherent sentence, but he understood what I wanted. He untied my hands from the handcuffs without withdrawing from me. He turned us around so that I was sitting on him, and his back was against the headboard.

I moaned at the new angle, which allowed him to reach even deeper. I could feel him in my core. I began to bounce on him at a steady pace, and he threw his head back. "Oh my God, you're so good for me, baby," he said, closing his eyes.

My hands came to grip his cheeks, making his beautiful blue eyes meet mine. His hands grabbed my hips to guide and pull me even closer to him. Our torsos were pressed together, and our lips brushed against each other as I bounced on him. No words came out of our mouths, but we communicated through our eyes. His grip on my hips tightened, and he began thrusting from below. I felt my orgasm approaching. "Baby, I—I can't—I can't—I'm going to—" I tried to articulate, but once again, everything tangled in my head, and I couldn't say it.

"I know, princess. Let yourself go. Come for me, baby. I want you to come for me, ma , please don't stop," he said, biting his lips and clenching his jaw. I could feel him twitch inside me, and within seconds, I started to climax. He grabbed my neck roughly, kissing me while forcing me to continue bouncing on him until he also climaxed inside me.

I let my head fall on his shoulder, and he began to stroke my hair. We were both out of breath. "I never want you to see that guy again," he said.

"Fuck you, Chris," I replied without moving from my position.

"I'm serious. If I see you with him, I'll kick his ass," he said, grabbing my chin to make me face him.

"I won't see him again," I replied simply, and he smiled before kissing me slowly and gently.

Masterlist.

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thehorrorgirlstyles · 4 months ago

Text

Best kept Secret

Part 1

Billy Hargrove x Harrington!reader

Find P2 here!

Summary: Billy is a dick to everyone and your brother is his number one hater, however, he's so hard to resist.

Minors DNI!

Warnings: mentions of violence, fighting, sexual comments, blood, swearing, derogatory words, public sex, mentions of kinks,

___________________________________________________

"Steve!" you call out. You've been waiting on your brother downstairs for the past 30 minutes to take you to school. "STEVE, I SWEAR TO GOD HURRY THE FUCK UP!" you yell out for the 20th time this morning. "Geeze I'm coming relax!" he yells back as you see him round the corner towards the stairs. He makes it down and grabs his bag as you open the front door. "Don't tell me to relax we are literally late for school because someone decided to go to a party last night and is now hungover!" you say as you open the door to his car frustrated that your late because of him. "When did you become such a prude?" your brother replies as he starts the car, and backs out of the drive-way. You slap the back of his neck, "HEY I'm driving idiot!"

When you get to school you slam the car door and head straight to the gym. "Have a good day too!" your brother yells after you and shakes his head. "Thanks dumbass!" you yell back, flipping him off, you can't wait until you get your own car.

You arrive to the gym and see that they already started practice without you. "Hey y/n you're late" the cheer captain Lisa says. "Yeah I know" you roll your eyes at her, and fake smile. "Okay everyone now that some people finally decided to join us, we can go over our routine for tonights game" she says while looking at you. God she's such a bitch you thought while putting your gym bag down. As you sit on the bench to tie your shoes, you hear the gym doors open and in comes Billy. He was wearing the schools gym uniform and you could tell that he's been here for a while by the way his hair was slightly damp. Billy takes a drink from the water he was carrying and combs his hair back. He scans the room locking eyes with you. You notice that you've been starring at him and quickly look down, continuing to tie your shoes. You quickly finish and look up again to see that he's already heading your way. Crap you thought as you stand up and try to walk away, but he's too quick. He grabs your arm, "Y/n", the way he says your name makes you want to do unholy things so badly. You clear your throat and look him in the eyes, "Billy" he smirks knowing that you'll never dare to back down. He bends down in front of you and gets on his knees. You look down at him in shock "Billy wh-what are you doing?" you secretly whisper at him not wanting to alert anyone in the gym. He grabs your leg bringing his hand slowly down as he finally reaches your shoe. You look to see that you didn't fully tie it due to the rushing of trying to get away. "Careful sweetheart wouldn't want you to trip, now would we?" he says as he finishes up tying your shoe. He stands up and grins at you, "I'll see you later" he walks away leaving you a blushing mess as you watch him exit the gym. "Y/n!" Lisa yells at you, "What the hell are you doing, get over here!" You jump as her voice pulls your attention back and away from billy, "Right, I'm sorry" you hurry up and get into position, hoping that she didn't see what just happened.

As soon as practice is over you head outside to look for your friends. On your way you bump into someone's back. "Hey watch were your going dumbass!" you look up to see billy, just as he turns around and meets your eyes, "Oh shit honey, I'm sorry" he looks at you and grabs your hand. "It's okay Billy everyone knows you're an asshole, you don't have to put up a front and apologize to me" he scoffs at your words. "What am I wrong?" you question him. He just smiles and pulls you down the hall, towards an empty classroom.

When inside he closes the door and lets go of your hand. You walk towards the teacher's desk and sit on it. "See there's a difference sweetheart" , he says while walking towards you. "I may be an asshole but I'm a dick to everyone but you", he reaches you and wraps his arms around your waist, while you put yours around his neck. "Billy" you whine, "Yes?" he looks at you, his eyes darkening. "Kiss me". He grabs your neck, pushing you closer as your lips finally crash together. You feel his tongue fighting yours as he pushes you to lay back on the desk. You hear items fall to the floor as he gets on top of you. You both moan into the kiss continuing to fight for dominance. He wins and you pull back for air. "God I need you Y/n" he groans. "Then take me" you whine back. He grabs your hips and pulls your skirt down. "Ever since I saw you first put on this little skimpy cheer outfit, I've been wanting to fuck you in it" he reveals sliding his fingers past your folds, setting a fast pace. "Billy!" you scream out. "Careful princess, don't want anyone to hear us" he says as he picks up the pace. "Fuck Billy you're gonna make me come" you throw your head back against the desk. "That's the goal sweetheart" he chuckles out. You put a hand on his arm, stopping him, "Billy I want to come on your dick" you look up at him, while he opens his mouth in shock. "You such a filthy little thing aren't you?" he grins while pulling out his fingers from your soaking cunt. "Well if that's what you want, who am I to deny a lady?" he smirks at you, undoing his belt. You sit up helping to free himself. "You have made me so hard Y/n" he pants while stroking himself a few times. You lay back down while he guides himself into you. "Fu-ckkkk"~ he moans out. "You feel so good sweetheart" he says, starting to fuck into you. "Please Billy fuck me harder"~. He listens to you fucking you faster and harder, while bringing a hand up to rub your clit. "Ahhhhhhh~ Billy!" you yell out. "Shushhhh baby you can take it...good girls shut up and take it, are you going to be a good girl for me Y/n?" he brings a hand up to your face moving your hair out the way. "Yes Billy I'll be your good girl" you cry out as he continues his speed. "Im gonna cu-" he puts a hand over your mouth quieting your cries as you reach your climax. Soon after he follows "Fuck baby" he pulls out and comes on your stomach some getting on your uniform. "Billy what the hell!" you groan out as you see the wet spot. "Relax sweetheart you can wash it out later" he kisses you and you melt into it. Just as he pulls away you hear a snap and the desk breaks. Billy and you both falling to the floor.

"We fucked so hard we broke the desk" you laugh out. He stands up and grabs your hand pulling you up, "I couldn't deny my lady's order to go faster" he grins at you softly chuckling. "Hey Billy um we should probably get out of here before lunch ends" you say relazing that you're both still at school and someone could walk in at any moment.

You both get clean up and walk outside the classroom, when the bell rings. "Well so much for lunch" you say to him smiling. You go to walk to class, but he stops you. "Hey let me at least walk you" You look back at him "No way Billy, what if someone sees us, we agreed to keep this a secret remember?" He scoffs at you, "We have been keeping this a secret for 4 months Y/n, how much longer until I can go out with my own girlfriend.... I mean seriously pretending that we don't know each other is getting old". You look at him like he's stupid, "Um- hello have you not met my brother he doesn't really like you.. he would totally kill you"

"Y/n I can take Harrington in a fight, trust me he can't hurt me" he says back. "Billy that's not the point, the point is that your a fucking dickhead that bully people and literally the most annoying person I have met, I should fucking hate you, but for some reason I want you instead... the least I can do is not let everybody know that I'm dating a prick and be seen with you!" you tell him, but you quickly regret it when you see the way he looks at you. "Wow" is all he says while quickly walking awhile, disappearing down the hall way. Fuck!

You go to class and sit down next to your best friend, Nancy. "Hey where did you go at lunch, Robin and I were looking for you?" she asks opening up her notebook. "I was busy" you reply, thinking about how quickly you can fix things with Billy and hopefully it's fast.

#stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x fem!reader smut #billy hargrove x female reader #steve harrington

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umadosedepascal · 9 months ago

Text

W I N N E R | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | PART VIII

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.

wc: 2.9k

rating/warnings: [a little drunk] [one spit][take a shower together][ride on thigh][Pedro begging in Spanish][little fluffy][Smut][unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f]

a/n: This was kind of a request. Enjoy whoever asked us for it! And sorry if there’s any mistakes on our English.Pedro was freaking HOT that night MY GOSH!Consider commenting and reblogging if you like it!

Its been a busy beginning of the year, Pedro has a lot of work going on and you as well.

You can barely see each other but when there's an opportunity to meet you just jump on it by him invinting you or just to be there at the same event.

When he won the People's Choice Award you just had to call him congratulating for the winning, and while you were talking he told you he was going to fly back to LA for SAG awards and really wanted to see you before come back to Canada.

That news made your day, and you had a good feeling that he was going for good.

Unfortunatelly you couldnt attend the award not even the after party for other reasons but you kept texting insanely each other during the event.

Pedro P: Hey honey, I'm already here. drinking some Casamigos with awesome people, wish you were here...

You: It's ok babe, have fun tonite! I bet you going to win and we can celebrate later..

Pedro P: Not sure, my dear. Kieran is taking them all 🥲 can't wait to see you later tonite.

You are laying on your couch with pajamas watching the award and his category comes up with an surprisingly announcement. Pedro wins, you start screaming on your apartment like your team scored on final championship.

DAMN, you are so proud of him and turn up the volume just to hear his speech loud and clear. Well, wasn't one of the best ones but you swirl your glass of wine bitting your bottom lip while he is saying he is a bit drunk and tear up with him as he mention how important this is for himself.

You realize is time to get ready to meet him, you let the TV on while going to take a shower and hear he's back live with Tan on backstage interview. It looked like more shenanigans than possible. The moment you hear him saying he would make out with Kieran and this is his revenge you automatically raise your phone for a sassiest nude pic and send him..

You: So, you want to make out with me or him? 🤣

You know he is buzzed and feeling the moment and know his not going to reply so soon but still piss and laughing at the same time.

After a couple hours you get a message

Pedro P: Mine or yours?

You: Inside me

Pedro P: This is what I wanted to. I will be there in 20.

You: Come to me Don Juan

Pedro P: haha 🤣

It's 1:30 am and you debating with your sleep just to keep yourself awake and see that Chilean Don Juan appear in front of your door. To keep it up you still drinking and looking at the app because he always share his location with you. Not to bother, you just wait with patience and see its moving faster. Means that he is coming towards your place. Your heart starts to accelerate and definitely you cannot wait to see him holding that heavy award on his hands..

You live in a quiet neighbour in West Hollywood, nothing happens like the crazyness on the other side. You sit in front of your door wearing a comfy robe when his car approaches the street.

"MAMA I WON!" He screams while getting off the car

You are like "SSSSH Pedro! It's 2 in the morning..😂"

Pedro holds you leading you back to your house and closing the door behind him.

"I'm so proud of you, even you saying those things on live TV, you were so funny, light and emotional. Can you believe I cried when you got on that stage saying anything but everything?"

"Yeah I, I, I was drunk babe..haha"

He leaves his award carefully by the door on the floor and when he comes back up to you his hands are already on your thighs sliding up giving you shivers and taking off your robe for good. Pedro holds the back of your neck while licking on it tracing a pat to your right ear saying "I win twice tonite huh..”

He grabs your hand and make you feel his hardon throught his pants, you let out a soft moan and rub your hands harshly on him, your mouths meet each other in a sloppy wet kiss. You can feel the taste of tequila and his tongue is tender and he is gentle on you.

You keep on your toes and whisper in his ear "are you sure this is all for me? Isn't it for Kieran or the other thousand people you wee flirting P?"

Pedro looks at you, those brown eyes getting darker, he raises an eyebrow and moves away from you, your heart beating faster when you see that man going to the middle of your living room.

Pedro stops and looks at you,

"Do you really think my cock is hard like that because of anyone other than you and this tight pussy?"

Each word Pedro was saying, he was opening a button on his shirt, so slowly that you felt your legs soften with every inch of skin that was emerging in front of you.

"Eyes on my dear, tell me, do you know how hard I got when I saw that pic you’ve sent me? How did I have to disguise it by holding my award?"

The last button is undone and Pedro takes his clothes off quickly now just on his undies. He sits in the sofa, legs open, he pops out a cigarette, you face him petrified, the way Pedro takes your living room, how this room seems ten times smaller and warmer with him there.

Pedro lights up the cigarette and drags it slowly, his head falling on the back of the sofa.

"Come here mama" he pats his left thigh twice. The view of him with the cigarette hanging on his lips, shirtless, the slightly reddish skin, the curls on his forehead, and those eyes that look like a burning brown sea drives you crazy.

You sigh, approach and ride on his left thigh.

You take the cigarette out of his mouth, take a drag and land on the ashtray.

While making sudden movements on his thigh you hold his jaw squeezing his cheeks and say "so, it means we have a winner here..." putting two fingers in his mouth, he sucks them and say softly.. "go down, I want to see how wet you are for me" you obey with a peck on his lips.

Sliding down your left hand through his hot chest giving a quick pass through the bulge over his boxers. the feeling is very hot and pleasurable..moving the fabric away from your panties you dip one finger only and move back into his mouth.

He opens his mouth slowly giving permission for you to pass on his lips and that was enough for him to hold the edges of your panties and strip down making you get up quickly and get rid of it.

Sitting back again on his thigh and making more abrupt movements and wetting him completely, a feeling of drowning, a smell of sex and expensive perfume with the taste of tequila coming from that mouth.

Pedro guides your hand to his cock and asks with some difficulty to caress him the way he likes it.

You drag your nails through the contour of his cock, the wet fabric of pre cum shows how Pedro is looking forward to you. You stroke his thighs, going up and down slowly, feeling how his skin chills, how his stomach contracts when your fingers get close to his cock.

You take back the cigarette and drag looking at him, your head falling to the side, watching how he seems lost and anxious.

“You look so beautiful kneeling to me," Pedro says taking the cigarette off your fingers.

Biting your lip you hold the sides of his undies, Pedro raises his hips helping you, the fabric going down his legs, you throw it to the floor.

Pedro holds his throbbing cock with his right hand, uncut, thick and veiny with a swolen red head looking like a huge strawberry, he makes movements up and down.

"Déjame sentir esa boca mama. Please" he says with half close eyes and husky voice.

You approach and hold his cock over his hand, squeezing and feeling how he pulsates. You lick the wet tip of pre cum, looking into his eyes you slowly suck only the tip, Pedro takes his hand off the cock and holds the armchair stroking it, cursing softly while you lick and teases him with your tongue.

"You're so hot, I've been wishing to suck you all night" before Pedro can answer you put his cock in your mouth, feeling the tip hit your throat, you feel him pulsating on your tongue, the bittersweet taste of the pre cum invading your throat. Pedro runs his hand in your hair, moving in circles encouraging you to swallow more, you choke but don't take him out of your mouth.

"Shit! I love it when you do that. Don't stop!"

You look into his eyes, Pedro wiping the tear that accumulates in the corner of your eyes. You take him out of your mouth just to jack him off while sucking his balls, Pedro throws his head back and moans loudly, no caring if anyone will hear him.

"Gosh! You're going to kill me"

You go up with your tongue licking his length, until you reach the tip you swallow it again feeling Pedro grabbing your hair tightly, guiding how he wants to fuck your mouth.

"Por favor…”

You feel that Pedro is about to cum in your mouth, with a pop you let it go and ask looking up at him "will there be a second round, babe?"

With his eyes closed and his mouth half open he nods a yes and you grab him again passing his tongue with more intensity on the frenum. He lets out a dense moan slightly squeezing the sides of your temple and arches his hip releasing jets of hot cum in your mouth. Pedro's moans get louder as you swallow his hot juice by sliding your nails on his thighs making him having goosebumps.

You get up and sit again on him facing front, caressing his graysh beard and kissing his neck and corner of mouth. He mouths a lazy smile biting his lower lip and says "I want more, I don't want it to end like this today without me satisfying you..."

Pedro looks at you from the corner of his eye, pointing to your bedroom.

“..taste you Ma’am..."

Lifting you up on his lap, you interlace your legs on his hip and he goes towards your bed throwing you into it and opening your legs with his knees.

He starts kissing your knees looking up at you, going down to your thighs alternating between each one licking and giving light nibbles, sometimes some bites that will leave you marks making you complain with pleasure "stop, Pedro"

"Stop?"

"No, no, keep going.." giggling.

This time Pedro went straight to the pot licking the sides of your folders, holding your hips pulling you to him so you can reach his curly hair, already messy and sweaty.

He fucks you with his tongue, grunting while smearing himself from you, you feel your pussy pinching with his beard constantly scrubbing against your skin. he alternates between licking, and sucking on your clit leaving on the edge.

"Cum to me babe, you're so delicious... I missed you"

You feel your pussy contract, squeezing, your stomach on fire, a hot numbness taking over your body. Pedro moans against your pussy while sucking on it, begging you to cum for him.

"Cum in my mouth cum in my whole face, babe"

Pedro spits onto your pussy, a long line of saliva while his eyes do not detach from yours. He fucks you with his tongue, his pretty aquiline nose poking your sensitive clit.

"Pedro! Sn't it!" You shout his name, cumming on his tongue, his hands squeezing you, snakeing your body, leaving scratches.

"Every day more delicious" Pedro crawls on top of you, finding your lips he kisses you, you feel his hard cock again against your thigh.

Pedro moves away kneeling on the edge of the bed, you don't even have time to assimilate before you feel him pull you by the ankles, causing your legs to curl around his waist.

Pedro holds his cock hard cock with his right hand and rubs the tip against your swollen clit, you moan when he slide the tip in your pussy.

"So fucking tight..ah”

He takes off and stimulate you again, and so he does one, two, three times teasing you.

"Please papi, fuck me…"

Pedro growls looking at you, he holds his cock by the base and push into you. You two moaning together, that little pain mixed with pleasure taking over your body, Pedro seems like a sex God, a fallen angel looking at your pussy while

fucking you deep, his lips half-open, the side vein of his neck pulsating, drops of sweat accumulating on his forehead...

Pedro grabs your waist, sitting on the bed and rolling you on top of him. He holds your ass making you rub on it, the feeling of his cock so deep in your pussy.

You lean on him, sinking your mouth into his sweaty neck while he already without forces slaps you in the cheeks holding firmly making you move up and down. with a low grun he lifts you slightly and fucks you even harder. the sound of skin to skin and his moans mix while he pumps you in order to reach his climax but you give in first leaving his cock wetter and slippery, making it escape more than once from inside you but he quickly guides his hard cock again inside until he grabs you tight on your waist and cums hot inside you saying cursed things. You quickly shut him up kissing him roughly.

The kiss turns sloppy, and decreases as your lungs fight for air.

Pedro kisses your jaw, his tongue passing through your neck, leaving a bite on your right shoulder. He lies on the bed, still with his dick inside you, he smiles as if he were high. You watch him, his eyes closed, the satisfied smile on his lips, the curls of his hair now completely wet with sweat.

You bend over and kiss his collarbone, raising your tongue to his neck, feeling the salty of his skin. Unique.

"Are you trying a third round?" He says opening only one eye and looking at you. You laugh coming out of him, immediately missing the feeling of his cock inside you.

"Come, take a shower with me"

The bath is relaxing, the warm water falling on you, Pedro kisses you while you pass the soap through his body, it is sensual and calm.

You tell him to turn around, passing the soap behind his back, leaving a kiss on the back of his newly operated shoulder, he laughs and turns to you, kissing your lips calmly, taking advantage of every inch of your mouth. It's so relaxing that you feel your muscles give way every time he hugs you next to his body.

While you talk and get dry, Pedro tells you about how he doesn't remember anything of the speech, that he was so nervous and happy that he just said what came to his mind, and blames himself for not having thanked more people.

"You made a beautiful speech, Pedro, I’m serious"

He smiles and holds your hand.

"Can I ask for something? Can you wear my shirt? From the minute Julie gave it to me, I imagined how beautiful you would look wearing it. Hah”

You smile at his request, nodding your head giving a quick kiss on his lips, you send him to bed and run to the living room. You just see chaos, clothes thrown on the floor, ashtray, glass of drink and TV on. You find the shirt on the couch, you put it on not wearing anything underneath, leaving the same amount of buttons open that he left during that night.

The moment you head to the room, he brought the trophy to the bedside table and catches your attention, you take it, looking at his name engraved, smiling, happy for him.

"Papi I’m a winner!" You mimic him when he told you in the early evening, raising the heavy trophy.

You walk slowly to the side of the bed, leaving the trophy on the bedside table. Pedro climbs his right hand down the back of your thigh, gently squeezing your ass, looking at you while his left hand plays with one of the buttons on the shirt.

"Jesus, you look so sexy! Much better than I imagined. Come here" Pedro whispers looking at you.

You know exactly what that look means. The night will really have no end.

———————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedrohub #joel miller #dieter bravo #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel

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mysticalmallard · 4 months ago

Text

Stood up

Description: Opie takes a chance and goes on a date. Part 1 of the Opie and the waitress mini series.

Word Count: 2,583

Warnings: none I think

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

Parts:

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 •

SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist ♥︎ Series Masterlist

Opie sighs softly as he stands and looks in the mirror, adjusting the collar on his shirt. He runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back before giving up and letting it fall down to where it usually sits.

He glances at the bedside clock, groans when he sees the time, and then grabs his wallet as he heads out the door. He wasn't excited, in fact, he didn't want to be doing this, but the prospect of just being alone was even less appealing to him. His kids need a mother figure and he can't continue living the way he is.

The café they are meeting at, just outside of Charming, is quiet and fairly peaceful. Opie is sitting at a table, waiting on his date to arrive as he sips on a coffee. He glances at the door every time it opened, but he hasn't seen her yet.

A half-hour passes and his date still hadn't shown. Opie can't help the sigh that leaves his lips. It makes sense that she didn't show, and that he really is meant to be alone.

A waitress brings over a small cake and places it in front of him.

"Oh..I didn't order this" He hurriedly says.Opie looks up at the waitress before looking at the cake in front of him with clear confusion.

"I know you didn't, but it looked like you could do with cheering up" the waitress says softly.

He looks up at her Opie can't help the small smile that comes to his face, even if he does find it a little embarrassing that he was pitied by a stranger when he was waiting for a date that never showed.

"Thank you" he murmurs as the waitress gives a kind smile and heads over to the next table, leaving him to the cake.

Opie glances around the quiet cafe, and after a moment, he grabs the fork and starts to eat the cake, it's rich chocolate flavour giving him a sense of relief as he takes the first bite.

In fact, it tasted amazing, and Opie was soon finishing the whole thing, licking his lips as he sets the fork down. He grabs a napkin and wipes at his mouth as a shadow comes over his table.

He sighs as he stands, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a few bills to leave for the waitress as a tip, before he makes his way out of the cafe and to his bike outside.

Outside he spots his waitress stood outside in her coat her purse on her shoulder frowning at her phone glancing up the road every so often.

Opie stops mid-step when he sees the waitress stood there, and he can't help the look of confusion that comes to his face when he catches sight of her frown.

He glances up the road that she is looking down, curious as to what she is waiting for.

After a moment, he finally decides to approach the waitress, walking over and clearing his throat to alert her to his presence.

"you waiting for your ride?" he asks, a soft and almost gentle tone to his voice.

The waitress startles, obviously not expecting anyone to approach her, and it's not hard for her to recognise the handsome man that had been sitting in the cafe for over an hour.

"Uh...yeah, I am" she replies as she turns to look at him, a slight hint of embarrassment in her voice as her cheeks flush pink.

Opie stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances up the street one more time.

"You been waiting long?"he asks her, his eyes studying her face as he sees the redness in her cheeks.

The waitress gives a soft sigh and nods her head. "Yeah, for about 30 minutes. I was supposed to meet someone, but I think I've been stood up" she mutters as she runs a hand through her messy hair.

Opie can't help but give a scoff at her words. "You're not the only one. Whoever you were meeting is a fool" he huffs in reply, an unexpected anger in his voice.

The waitress raises her eyebrows at the tone in his voice, surprised to hear the anger in his words, even if she doesn't exactly know why.

"Oh? So you were stood up too, huh?" she asks him with a slight smirk.

Opie gives a slight nod of his head. "Sure was. Don't know why I thought this was a good idea" he replies dryly as he rolls his eyes.

The waitress gives a soft chuckle. "What a pair we are, both stood up on the same night" she teases, the smirk never leaving her face.

Opie gives a small snort before he shrugs his shoulders as a smirk appears on his own face.

"Guess so" he replies slowly, glancing down at her with a raised eyebrow.

The waitress smiles as she moves to lean back against the wall.

"I can't believe people are so rude. You would think they could at least have the decency to cancel when they change their mind" she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest, sighing to herself.

"I only agreed to the date cause I'm the only one left in my friend group, not married...I guess they thought I needed someone too ..." she turns her head up towards him "what about you? where did you meet your lovely date?"

Opie gives a scoff as she leans back and he moves to mirror her, turning his body towards her.

"An online dating site" he replies bluntly. "I ain't had a serious date since my wife died" he tells her with a soft edge in his voice, almost surprised that he is opening up to a stranger.

The waitress's face softens as he spoke, she never realising that he had lost his wife. The expression in his eyes tells her he doesn't want pity, something the woman can respect as she stays silent and gives him a small nod.

Opie gives a sigh as he looks up at the sky, trying to hold back the wave of emotions that are threatening to take over. He is glad that she stayed silent, he does not need to be coddled, he never has. "You going to be okay to get home?" he asks her, turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.

"Yeah, I think so" she mumbles looking back at her phone.

Opie stares at her for a moment before he gives a small nod, almost as if he is coming to a decision.

"How far do you live from here?" he asks, almost reluctantly.

The waitress looks up at him, almost a mixture of surprise and curiosity on her face. "About 15 minutes away" she replies slowly, not knowing where this is leading.

Opie grunts before he glances up the street once more, his eyes returning to her.

"You mind if i make sure you get home safely?" he offers, his voice gruff and quiet.

The waitress is surprised by his offer, and it honestly takes her a moment to reply and realise she had not in fact imagined it. But eventually, she does reply. "Oh..i couldn't accept that im sure you've got other places to be, I'm sure I could get ahold of someone to give me a lift" she answers not wanting to be a burden.

Opie doesn't let her finish her sentence, and he huffs as he gives a small shake of his head.

"No one should be walking home on their own at night, and you could be waiting ages for anyone" he replies gruffly. "Let me take you home, it's no issue..." he stands up off the wall. "come on my ride is over here" he nods in the direction of his bike not leaving any room for any argument.

The waitress doesn't really have a chance to reply, not that she actually wanted to. Her eyes widen at his blunt tone, but she pushes herself off the wall anyway and looks towards the spot that he had nodded to, and her eyes fall on a large harley.

She hesitantly follows him towards the bike, still not exactly knowing what to think of this man.

Opie glances over his shoulder as he moves towards his bike, almost amused by the look on her face. He can practically see the nerves coming through, as she glances at the bike.

"You ever been on a motorcycle before?" he asks, his voice gruff, as he lifts his leg over the bike and straddles the seat, waiting for her to get on behind him.

The waitress takes a deep breath as she steps closer to the motorcycle, it is certainly a lot larger than she expected and she suddenly questions the safety of the thing.

"no..." she mutters before she moves to climb on behind him, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady herself.

Opie can feel the weight of her behind him and the grip on his shoulders doesn't exactly go unnoticed either. A small smirk appears on his lips at the realisation she is nervous.

He starts the engine and glances into the side mirror at the woman sat behind him.

"You might wanna hold on tight," he says as he pulls off the side of the road.

The waitress lets out a small yelp as the bike lurches forward, and she quickly wraps her arms around his waist, gripping tightly as she does. They travel down the streets for several minutes, the woman behind him holding on tightly.

The feeling of having her arms wrapped around him ignites a low flame in Opie, reminding him once more how very lonely he has been since Donna died.

Opie can't help but smirk at the feeling of her practically shaking in fear behind him as the drive continues. "You okay back there?" he calls back over his shoulder with a chuckle.

"Yeah! I'm fine!" the waitress calls back, her voice loud over the engine as they speed down the road.

The waitress can't deny that there is something exciting about being on the bike, the wind in her hair, but she is also terrified to the core. She buries her face against his back, holding on for dear life as he takes a sudden turn.

Opie's smirk only grows as he can feel the grip on his waist tighten with every turn of the bike and every turn in the road. The thought of having a woman hold on to him, even if it was for her own safety, is something he isn't going to give up easily.

"your gonna have to give me some directions here" he calls out turning his head over his shoulder.

The waitress nods her head frantically as she lifts it from his back, before taking a quick glance at the street signs as she realises how close they are to her home.

"I'm just up here. Take the next right" she tells him, her voice shaky, and she buries her face against his back once more, as they make the final drive towards her home.

They arrive in front of a small apartment complex and Opie brings the bike to a stop, lifting his foot to balance the bike as he glances back at her. "This where you live?" he asks gruffly.

"Yeah..." she mumbles still clinging on to him.

Opie grunts in reply as he looks back at the building in front of them. It's not a nice building in the slightest. It looks dirty and well-worn, definitely not a place he would like any woman to live.

He glances back at the waitress as she continues to cling onto his shoulders, feeling her still shaking against him. "You gonna let go any time soon?" he asks, a hint of amusement seeping through his voice.

She lifts her head and realises that she was still holding on to him. Her face flushes pink yet again, having been so focused on being scared and the drive that she hadn't even realised.

She slowly lets go, and swings her leg over the back of the bike, ungracefully dismounting and standing up on shaking legs.

Opie reaches a arm out grabbing her shoulder to steady her.

Opie can't help the smirk as he watches the waitress wobble on her feet, clearly still shaken from the ride. "You gonna be okay? Or should I carry you upstairs?" he teases, his hand still on her shoulder.

"No...I'll be fine, thankyou for rhe ride," she says, trying to tame her hair, feeling embarrassed.

Opie watches as she tries to tame the hair that was messed up by the wind, and he can't help but think how much she suits the messy look.

He grunts in reply as he removes his hand from her shoulder, a reluctant motion as he wanted an excuse to keep that contact.

"It was no problem." he mumbles sit sat on his bike unsure of what to say now.

The waitress stands in front of him, an awkward silence that neither of them are sure how to break.

His phone started ringing, breaking the silence. Opie pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen, grumbling when he recognises the number.

"I gotta answer this" he mutters as he brings the phone to his ear."yeah?" he answers gruffly, his eyes still on the waitress standing in front of him as he hears a familiar voice come through the line.

Bobby's voice filters through the phone as he speaks, a touch of frustration in his voice. "Where you at? We got some business we need to sort"

Opie sighs as he glances down at the floor before replying "I'm on my way, gimme 30." He mutters, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Opie hangs up the phone and glances back at the waitress. "Duty calls" he tells her with a shrug.

The waitress nods, not wanting to be a bigger inconvenience to the man who has already done so much for her.

"Well thankyou again...er.." she realises she never got his name.

Opie can't help but give a small chuckle as he glances at her. "Opie, name's Opie" he tells her gruffly.

"Opie...well thankyou" she mumbles stepping back from his bike "maybe ill see you around?" She asks a hopeful look on her face.

Opie grunts in reply as he pushes the bike back. "Yeah, maybe" he mutters, trying to keep his tone casual, not letting the fact he actually wants to see her again show too much.

The waitress stands awkwardly for a moment, before starting to head towards the entrance to the apartment building. She turns around just before she reaches the door and gives him a small smile and a wave before heading inside.

Opie watches as the woman walks through the door and disappears inside. He lets out a sigh as he climbs back onto the bike, before gunning the engine with a screech and speeding down the road in the direction of the clubhouse.

Opie's mind is clouded with thoughts as he rides, the memories of what he had wanted his night to be like, and what it actually was.

He can't get the waitress out of his head, something about her had ignited a fire within him, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

He rides faster, trying to clear his head as he heads back to the club.

#sons of anarchy #samcro #soa #sons of anarchy x reader #opie winston oneshot #opie winston imagine #opie winston #opie #opie winston x reader

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watchingblsnowandforever · 5 months ago

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Hello!!!! =D

So. We Are ep 13. I don't how they do this, but they keep making every episode better than the last. At this rate, I'll not be able to survive episode 16.

Warning: long post 😊😅 (there will be a smol part 2 because 30 screenshots are definitely not enough.)

We have the Best Parents in BL, but now I present to you: The Best Aunt in BL.

Subtle, Aunt Pui, real subtle. 😭

I get her. She just wants a nice, handsome boyfriend for her nephew. 😌

First of all, the symbolism is hitting me right in the face, but it's also so subtle because no one else knows the whole story, so they wouldn't be able to figure it out.

Secondly. Yes, the red and blue do clash a bit, and it's not the prettiest little painting. But. Not every painting has to be "pretty" or perfect. Just like feelings or emotions in real life. Peem didn't willingly draw over his precious painting because he thought it'd look better; he did it because he wanted it to express his feelings. This also ties into Peem's insecurity at having (apparently) failed at being Phum's comfort zone because see, in the painting it looks like the sea is embracing the roses, or protecting them.

What I'm trying to say, is that what makes art beautiful is not just what you directly see on the canvas/right in front of you. And this applies even to the "pretty" ones. The David is not just famous because it looks very good, but also because of the amount of skill and talent Michelangelo had to be able to create such a thing from a block of marble. (I'm sorry I'm not good at examples or analogies 😭)

Sir. What business do you have, making an expression like that and giving me a heart attack.

If I haven't said this before: find a man who looks at you like Phum (Pond) looks at Peem (Phuwin).

Two sides of the same coin.

Phum still feels guilty (which is very clear from his reaction to what Peem says) about ruining Peem's painting, so he wants to do something to make sure nothing like that ever happens to Peem again.

Peem is long over it (you don't ever forget shit like that, but he has definitely forgiven Phum). He met Phum because of that Incident™, and he has a new, upgraded painting, so this is just a light joke for him. But the moment he sees it's too soon for Phum, he immediately goes to reassure him he's just kidding, and he absolutely does not hold it over Phum.

A simple pinky promise, but how much does it mean to Phum?

He's never had someone to make a pinky promise with; Fang was in a similar situation as him, and Beer knew better to make a promise and have it broken by forces outside his control.

So this, this small, childish gesture means quite a bit to him. (Which is also probably why having broken it hurt him so much.)

And yet Peem, you're smiling so wide while saying that. Almost like *le gasp* you actually like it!

Let's be real here, Peem. You don't mind at all. In fact, you sounded unbearably fond saying this. You were quite literally giggling and kicking your feet. (Which fits my headcanon of him pretty well actually.)

This shot. Just >>>> (actually thinking of making it my header-)

Ma boy never misses a chance 😭👍🏼

And if he doen't get a chance, he makes one and nails that too. <3

SO CUTEE 🥺🫶🏼

Oh the teasing is on.

Pun: I did that 😌

Beer: Idiots in love. Again. *exasperated sigh*

[From this point on, I am extremely sleep deprived, so most comments made will probably (definitely) be forgotten by the time I wake up (I'm going right to sleep after posting this.]

Well, Chain, I'm sorry to be the one telling you this, but Phum moved into Peem's heart like 6 episodes ago.

Well, yeah, but Peem has to act at least a little bit like the tsundere he is, right?

Chain: "Well, can a cupid shoot an arrow at himself?"

Toey: *very telling side-eye*

Q: You really think one flirty line will trigger his half braincell to understand what he didn't in the past however many years? ...go on, I wanna see how this turns out

Pun: *pikachu meme face*

Beer: Oh damn here goes another one, we must be nearing the last episode

Phum: ????

Peem: Don't say anything don't say anything DON'T SAY ANYTHING DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING SAY A SINGLE WORD- (internally: Idiots. They're idiots.)

Ah, I love the sibling energy here. Also, initially I was like nah you're more like Tan. But then I gave it some thought. And had a Realization: he really is the Fang in their relationship, and Q really is the Tan. (I do not have the brainpower to explain rn, but tell me if you want me too, I'll include it in Part 2.)

Phum can't wait. (And neither can Peem, because I didn't see ya denying anything, babe. Instead, you gave him the softest shoulder bump in the history of soft shoulder bumps and that bigass (smitten) smile.

Oh boy this scene.

Right before this, when Peem called Phum immediately after the last brushstroke, I was smiling so hard and giggling like yesss do boyfriend-y things with each other!

Him waiting on the porch: still big smile. Here comes Phum! Ooh are they gonna flirt in the car??

My smile started dimming as the seconds ticked by and no Phum appeared on screen.

Until I finally realized what was happening.

I almost stopped breathing.

And as the scene went on my heart broke a little more with every text and every call, and I was watching that mall scene again. Except it was much much worse this time.

So long story short, I was heartbroken for both of them. Especially when Peem showed up alone with the saddest lost-kitten face ever.

But, at this point I knew Phum must have had something really urgent/unaviodable to miss his meeting with Peem because 1. He really really loves that boy and 2. He was very much looking forward to doing this with Peem.

Unfortunately, I will have to end Part 1 here (please don't kill me), and I'm loathe to end on a sad note, but I promise the next part will be much happier. It will hopefully be posted a little later today.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a pudding 🍮

My previous We Are posts.

#we are #we are series #we are the series #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #watching bls: we are #let's talk bl #thai bl

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promise-you-doie · 8 months ago

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Who knew? | L. Sohee

Who knew the love of your life would be the weirdo you met in a coffee shop?

Sohee x afab!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: curse words

Genre: fluff, angst

Playlist

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Karina snickers, leaving the kitchen so she doesn’t have to be in the same area as you.

Mad isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel right now. You can feel your blood boiling, and every little sound causes you to get more and more frustrated. The reason? You missed all 7 of your alarms because you forgot to charge your phone the night before.

If there was anything you hated more than the male species, it had to be waking up at 11 am.

That means you have only 30 minutes until your first lecture of the day, which by the way isn’t nearly enough time to pick out an outfit, do your skin care, your makeup routine, and your hair, and still get to class on time.

Waking up at 11 on any day, including the weekend, basically meant that your day was already ruined. You’ve already wasted half the day, so it’s best to protect your peace and just stay home. And that’s what you decide to do after attempting to do your hair but quitting after its lack of cooperation.

“I wanna die.” You slur into a pillow after successfully spending 30 minutes getting angry at any and everything.

“Why die when the sky is clear and blue.” Winter chimes happily, a little too happy for your liking.

“Maybe you just need some fresh air and a coffee.” Ningning suggests from the bathroom. “I heard there’s a new cafe down the street, you should go.” She adds

“I don’t wanna go outside. I wanna lay here and die.” You say it as a joke, but some part of you is serious.

Either way, You still end up at the cafe. Even though Siri kept giving you the wrong directions. What should have been a 7-minute walk turned into 2, 15-minute laps. It’s safe to say that by the time you arrived, you had completely lost your appetite for coffee.

But you’re persistent in making the best out of this unlucky Monday. Walking into the cafe with a facial expression that tells everyone around you that it was only 12:01 and you were already having a bad day.

“Hi, could I get an Iced Americano?” You say blandly, forcing a small smile to cover the bad mood you are in

“What size?” The barista asks

“Large.” You needed it.

“Will that be all?” He asks.

You nod “Yes,” while patting your pockets for your wallet. Here's the catch, you left it at home. Before you resort to your last plan; screaming, crying, and sobbing on your knees, you decide to check your purse. Except, you don’t have that either.

“Your total is gonna be 5.05” The barista looks at you distantly as if he couldn’t see the internal war that you were battling right now before his very eyes. “I-” “I got it.” You watch someone stick their arm past you to put their card in the card reader. Thus paying for your much-needed drink.

“You didn’t have to.” You say shyly, without even looking in the stranger's direction.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll pay you back.” You finally turn to look at him. “Just uh…” You rush to pull out your phone and unlock it. “Give me your number, and I’ll wire it to you as soon as I get home.”

There were lots of things you hated, men being on the top of the list and being indebted to people is fourth down from it, with “Especially to men” written beside it in parenthesis. So anytime a man did anything nice to you, you wanted to make sure you paid them back immediately just so they don’t try to hold it over your head later.

“It’s only five dollars.” the stranger says

“Just let me pay you back, Please.” You beg, still holding your phone out for him to put his information in.

“Well if you really wanna pay me, you could just allow me to take you out on a date.” His response leaves you dumbfounded. A frown grows on your face when he smiles at you.

If someone were to ask why you were adamant about burning all the men alive, this was the exact reason why. “You’re kidding… right?” You laugh, because surely this has to be a joke. When you walked out of your apartment this morning you were hoping to just have a cup of coffee and maybe some exercise. The last thing you were thinking was to have some guy hitting on you after he practically forced you to let him pay for your coffee. (you didn’t ask him to do that, so basically he did it by force.)

“Y/n.” The barista calls out your name, luckily to pull you away from the weirdo that is subliminally asking to get in your pants. During broad daylight, in front of a crowd of people.

“Thank you.” You muster up a smile for the barista and head towards the door. Leaving the stranger behind. Owing him doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s not like you’re ever gonna see him again.

You let out a deep sigh when you hear him yell “You’re welcome.” once you leave the cafe and the door closes behind you.

“Today has to be the worst day ever.” You complain the second you step into your apartment. Catching the attention of your four other roommates.

The apartment was small and probably shitty to most but it didn’t matter to any of you because you were all together and the rent was too high nowadays. So if it took all of you piling over each other just so you wouldn’t be homeless, so be it.

However, being in a small 3-bedroom apartment with 4 other girls meant no secrets. Not because the five of you were nosy, it’s just that the walls were thin and there was absolutely nowhere to go to get any privacy. Best believe there were things about the girls that you wish you didn’t know.

“Couldn’t have been that bad,” Karina says nonchalantly, walking past you towards the living room to plop down on the couch and catch up on the series she’s been binging for a week now.

“Well, first I woke up late..” You’re tailing after Karina but get stopped when Ningning walks in your direction, only to take the coffee out of your hand and begin taking sips out of it. “This is good.” She nods without acknowledging the story you’re trying to tell everyone. Skipping to the couch with your drink still in her hand.

“There’s probably someone in the world dying right now, while you’re crying about sleeping in for a few hours.” Giselle scolds but she doesn’t even take the time to look at you. She just takes a seat next to Ningning and helps the two girls finish what’s left of your coffee.

“No, but listen, I went to go to the cafe as you guys suggested. But the directions were being stupid.”

“Was it the directions or was it you?” Karina asks, shaking around the ice in the coffee.

“It might have been me but that’s not the point.” You dismiss, “After like 30 minutes I finally find the cafe and I go to place my order.”

“But let me guess- You forgot your card.” Giselle interrupts you.

“Well, yeah. And then-"Wait, if you forgot your card, how’d you get this coffee.” Ningning asks instead of letting you finish what you’re so desperately trying to get out.

“The barista obviously thought she was cute and gave it to her for free,” Giselle answers for you.

“No. I-”

“For free? I don’t think so. Y/n’s pretty but she’s not ‘I think you’re so pretty that I’m gonna risk my job and be homeless’ pretty. Some guy probably just found interest in her and paid for her coffee, so she insisted on paying him back because she never knows how to accept when someone’s being nice but he refused cash and asked her to just let him take her on the date instead.” Karina somehow predicts everything perfectly, which is kinda scary.

“Yeah, actually” You confirm, but you’re still at a loss for words.

“So what did you say?” Ningning turns to you.

“No, of course. This is y/n we’re talking about.” Karina sits up to give you the last bit of coffee but winter reaches it before you do. Swiping it right from under you and taking the last swallow.

“Well, at least you got free coffee.” Giselle points out.

“And I'll tell you what I got,” Winter demands everyone's attention. Throwing her arm around your shoulder and turning to you when she says “We’re gonna get you laid tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Giselle asks before you get the chance.

“Jaemin just invited us to a party and guess who’s gonna be there,” Winter asks, pointing to Ningning who pipes up, slapping her hands together.

“I’m guessing, Jaemin.” You say nonchalantly.

“Sohee.” Ningning chimes. By now she’s jumping up and down.

Sohee is the guy she’s been trying to set you up with for weeks. You never met him and you don’t really wanna meet him. She tells you that she has a feeling that you’ll like him but you don’t think that’s the case because well, he’s a man.

“I’m not going.” You state pushing Winter's arm off of you so you can go to your bedroom. Pretending not to hear all of them yell “Boring.” before you close the door.

Another con with living with four other girls is that everyone is always ganging up against you. There wasn’t much ground for you to hold when it was always 4:1. With that being said, it was no surprise that you still ended up at Jaemin’s party even after making 101 excuses as to why you couldn’t go.

You were a few hours late of course. If the girls were gonna drag you out you had to make sure that you wasted as much time as possible.

“Here, drink this.” Giselle pushes some drink in your face.

“What is it?”

“Doesn’t matter, drink it.” She continues pushing the cup towards you until you take it and down the whole thing. Not caring what it is because you’re sure that she wouldn’t give you anything too dangerous right?

wrong.

“That’s horrible.” You yell over the music, wiping the excess liquid from your lips with the back of your hand.

“Isn’t it? I thought I was the only one.” Giselle laughs while taking the cup from your hand. You didn’t bother to argue with her, since it was something that she had a habit of doing. Instead, you just sit there around the couch watching everyone else have fun and decide that you’d rather be home. Or probably anywhere else.

Some people might say that you’re a prick or a party pooper, that you were stuck up and unfun but you’d say, they were absolutely right. What are you even supposed to do at these kinds of things? All you saw were really bad dance moves, a mess, and a hangover in the morning. What could be so fun about that?

“Woah.” You hear someone say from behind you. You don’t roll your eyes yet but you want to, because you’re almost sure you know who it is before you even see them. “I didn’t think this would be the place that I run into you again.” The boy says when you finally turn around to meet him.

The universe must absolutely hate you, you think. Because there is just no way that you run into the same man again within the same day. “Why not?” You say arms crossed with a frown bigger than the one you had this morning when you ran into him the first time.

“Well…” He looks you up and down.

“What are you trying to say?”

“This just doesn’t look like something that you’d be into, that’s all.” He smiles and leans against the wall beside you. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

This time you roll your eyes and walk away. You don’t have enough time nor do you care enough to try and change his mind about you. Thankfully he doesn’t try and chase after you but he does yell “I hope you enjoyed the coffee.” to which you hold your middle finger up behind you so he can see it.

“Y/n where are you going?” Ningning runs to you, tugging at your arm when you reach Jaemin’s front door.

“Home.”

“Wait! You have to meet Sohee first.”

“I’ll be fine.” You say trying to get out the door."

“Just 30 more minutes please.” She begs, getting down on her knees but not letting go of your hand.

You could argue with her, but one thing about Ningning is that she’s never lost an argument. So you take the easy way out and distract her instead.

“Oh my god, is that Sungchan?” You spur randomly

“You can’t fool me Y/N.” She looks at you unamused, but pipes up from the floor the second she hears a stranger from behind yell “Is that Sungchan.”

You blink once and she’s gone, mixed in with the other crowds of people. And you take your opportunity to run away, grabbing the first taxi you see and heading back to your apartment.

The steam from your shower follows you from the bathroom into your bedroom when you sit on your bed. Drying your hair with a towel, you take a deep breath. This is great, it’s quiet and calm just the way you like it.

That is until your four roommates come crashing into your room, screaming and squealing over each other and you can't even make out what any of them are saying. The only things you’re able to make out are something about fate and the Sohee guy that Ningning’s been telling you about.

“Wait, one at a time.” You stand and hold your hands out. “Giselle first.” You add

“Who’s turn is it to cook tonight? I’m hungry.” She slurs and then walks out of the room before any of you can answer her question.

“Okay… Winter.” You point to her when she holds her hand up.

“HI.” She holds her hand over her mouth when she giggles.

“Hi, Winter.” Her giggle gets louder when you smile back at her.

“Sohee wants to meet you,” Ningning yells, not giving Karina a chance to speak.

“I’m not interested.” You state, sitting on your bed.

“Come on, please. Just once.” She pleads for the second time of the day.

“No.”

“He could be the one.” Ningning begs even more.

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s cute and sweet and probably even romantic.” She adds

“Then you date him.” You mutter, laying down on the bed and closing your eyes.

“He wants you.” She continues even though you’ve turned your lamp off and shifted comfortably under your bed.

“I don’t want him.”

Other than your bedroom the best place on earth is the library. An endless world of books and possibilities. The best part about it? It’s completely quiet and the librarian always gives you one of her home-baked cookies.

Today the library is completely empty which means it’s even quieter than usual. The only noise is the traffic noise and the thunderstorm happening from outside. Which is even better for you because you know your afternoon reading session is going to be better than ever.

Walking down the romance aisle, dragging your index finger down each of the books until you find the very book you’re looking for. The spectator in the painting: volume 7/9.

You had spent the last four months binging the book after your favorite book blog suggested it. A story about a prince who falls in love with a violinist and risks his life to save her when she gets sentenced to death after treading too deep into the king's chambers.

The series was astonishing, just when you thought you knew what was gonna happen next, Boom! A plot twist.

“There it goes.” You whisper to yourself when you find the book on the top shelf out of place from where it’s supposed to be.

Your heart drops when you hear a somewhat familiar voice. The library is dead silent so when the boy walks in with his green sweatshirt and crossbody bag you immediately break out of your world. Leaning over the bookshelf to see if the voice belongs to who you think it belongs to.

“Good evening, Miss Lynn.” The boy greets happily leaning over the counter. You can tell he visits the library often because of how comfortable he is, smiling and making jokes with the librarian. That doesn’t bother you, but what does is Ms. Lynn passing him one of her home-baked cookies and joking with him about how he shouldn’t tell anyone. just like how she does with you.

You take that as a sign to mind your business, not even wanting to know who the boy is anymore. Except when you think to walk away the librarian points in your direction, guiding the boy to the sci-fi genre of books behind you. What’s even worse is the exact second the boy turns around you see that he’s exactly who you thought it was.

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath and hide behind the shelf. Holding your book to your chest. You clasp your hand over your mouth. You want to stand there and take in the shock that your body just went through but you know the better option is to get out of there as quickly and quietly as possible without him seeing you. Turning on your heels and walking quickly out of the aisle.

You’re almost there when you hear the boy call out for you.

“Y/n?” You know you should just keep walking away but you can’t. You stop dead in your tracks and slowly turn back to him. He strolls closer to you when he’s sure that he called for the right person.

“How do you know my name?” you question, suddenly every crime documentary comes to mind and your heart is racing. He could be a stalker or maybe a murderer.

“It was on your coffee order.” He answers with his usual smile. except this time it’s a lot more reassuring, no one with such an adorable smile could ever harm you. Right?

After a few seconds of silence, he points to the book you’re holding. “you read this too?”

“No, I was just curious about it. But now that I look at it, it seems uninteresting.” You flip the book around as if you’re examining it.

“I thought people usually started with volume 1.”

“Is this not…” You feign ignorance, flipping the book around to see that it says volume 7 as if that wasn’t the one you intended to read. “Oh I don’t have my glasses, I tho…”

You trail off looking back at the boy. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” you scold him.

“You don’t.” he agrees while reaching for the book in your hand. “I don't think you’ll like it anyway, the main character is so annoying. she’s always so defensive.”

Your first instinct is to defend the woman, even if she is fictional. “She’s not-“ but then you realize you’ve blindly walked into his trap.

“Whatever, just give me the book.” You mutter, pulling the book from his hand and walking out of the library. Not caring that he fondly watches you stomp through the library doors with the book still in hand.

“Why won’t he leave me alone?” You dramatically yell upon entering your apartment.

“Who?” Giselle pops up first

“he?” Karina comes out second

“No! no one can talk to you right now. You’re already taken.”Ningning runs out grabbing by your arm as if this was gonna protect you from the boy, who’s not even in the room.

“taken?” everyone except Ningning calls out at the same time.

“By Sohee.”

Instead of a verbal response, you just roll your eyes, Ningning was very persistent, you’ll give her that.

“Okay wait, who's the guy that won’t leave you alone?” Winter asks

“The guy from the coffee shop. It’s like he’s following me around, first at the cafe, then at the party, and now at the library.”

“The party?” Giselle questions “Is that why you left early.”

“That and I didn’t really wanna see Karina making out with a bunch of different strangers.” You admit, subtly gesturing to her with your hand.

“Fair” Karina nods

“Is he cute?” Winter questions

“The contrary! ” You somewhat shout. You’re very driven and determined to prove that you’re not into this guy even though you know it’s a lie. “What's even worse is that he won’t leave me alone and he knows my name.”

“like a stalker?” Giselle suggests

“Probably, this is why I hate men.” You throw your hands up

“But you’ll love Sohee,” Ningning adds.

Some days go by when you don’t run into him. five to be exact but it wasn’t like you were counting. You didn’t wanna see him, but it was torture for you to walk into places and constantly look over your shoulder because you thought he might be right behind you.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, head propped up by the knuckle of your hand. You’ve been up for hours trying to finish this paper for your biochemistry class, but you’re not making any progress. There were only two coherent lines written on the paper and a bunch of random letters that appeared when you slammed your head on the keyboard of your computer.

“I am so fucked.” You mutter, head still stuck into your laptop.

Your head stays there just a moment. You just needed a small break, nothing serious, just a small moment to reboot your brain and give you maximum creativity and intellect.

Except it wasn’t just a moment, you had slept through your first two alarms. Head popping the second your alarm begins to ring, immediately your eyes go to the time. “No~.” you groan frustratedly. throwing your legs over the chair and running into your bedroom to get dressed.

luckily you had just enough time to get some coffee and this time you brought your card. You made sure of it.

You walk into the cafe and stand behind the six people who are already in line getting ready to place their orders. Humming along to the tune that they have playing lowly from the speakers, you pull out your phone to kill time, going back and forth through your social media. Until it’s your turn to place the order.

“Good morning, what can I get for you today?” You notice the barista is different from the last one and much more welcoming as well.

“I’ll just take a small iced americano.” You say, pulling out your wallet to pay for the coffee.

“And can I get your name for the order?”

“Y/n”

“Okay, I’ll call out your name when the order is ready.”

“Perfect thank you.” You nod and find a table to go wait, Although it doesn't take long for the man to call your name. You stand up almost as soon as you sit down, pick up your iced drink, and head to the door.

Just moments before you reach the door another man walks into the small coffee shop. You can tell that he’s already preoccupied with his phone to notice that you’re on your way out. So you take the initiative to get out of his way. However, it still doesn’t stop him from bumping into your shoulder and knocking your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over your clothes.

“Watch where you’re going.” He’s the first to yell, he doesn’t bother helping you clean up the mess he made, and he doesn’t even apologize.

The asshole just walks right past you.

“Do you want me to kill him?” “Ye-” You almost say “yes.” on instinct but ultimately refuse and turn around to face the boy behind you. Letting your shoulders relax when you meet his soft eyes and familiar smile. “No, it’s fine.” No matter how hard you try you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips. Hurrying and looking down before he could see it too.

“I’ll go see if I can get a mop.” he walks away too soon to hear you say “okay.” and you stand there waiting for him with a stupid smile on your face as if you weren’t just wishing he’d vanish less than a week ago.

You’re only able to pull yourself out of your trance when he finally comes back with the mop. You reach to pull the mop out of his hand so you can clean it up but he stops you. “I go this, you can just wait over there. I’ll buy you a new coffee.” As if you weren’t slowly falling for him already.

“Okay.” You nod sheepishly, walking to where he guided you.

You weren’t one to get flustered, and especially not by man. But here you were kicking your feet, blushing and giggling all because someone offered to buy you a new coffee.

It takes only 9 minutes for him to walk back to you with a fresh cup of iced americano. “You didn’t have-” “I know.” he cuts you off, pushing the coffee towards you until you accept it. You finally do after a few moments of just staring at it.

“Thanks,” you say last, receiving the cup from his hand and getting ready to walk away. He lets you make it all the way to the door before he calls to get your attention.

“Wait.” When you stop and turn around he jogs towards you and wraps his jacket around you to cover up the coffee stain that you have smudged into your shirt. “Here.”

You don't fight with him this time because you’d rather wear his jacket down the street than a huge coffee stain on the front of your shirt. “Thanks.” is all you say, as you smile at him one last time. Turning and walking out the door not forgetting to sneak a few last-minute glances at him through the window.

The walk towards your school was like straight out of a movie. You’re grinning from ear to ear, giggling to yourself, and dancing along the sidewalk. Not caring for the strangers that were oddly staring at you.

You could say the coffee gave you energy but really it was the owner of the green varsity jacket you were wearing.

Then that’s when it hits you. You stop dead in your tracks realizing that you have no way to return the jacket after today since it isn’t promised that you’ll see him again.

Without thinking much you turn around and run back to the cafe, fingers crossed that he’ll still be there when you get there

You end up back in front of the cafe, panting and puffing but you still shuffle into the small shop and begin frantically searching for the boy.

He was already long gone, the cafe had picked up activity since you’d left but he was nowhere to be seen.

You’d encountered him four different times and even managed to get his jacket, but you still had yet to learn his name. The only thing you knew about him was that he read romance and that he likes coffee, parties, and apparently the color green.

“Whose jacket is that?” Winter asks from your bed, watching you cautiously hang up the varsity jacket in your closet. You hurry and close the door to restrict her view of the overgarment.

“I bought it the other day.” You spur

“Oh please, that is not your style.” Winter teases when you continue folding all the rest of your laundry.

“I just needed something really quick.” You miss when Gisselle goes into the closet behind you and pulls out the jacket.

“This is a man’s jacket.” She calls out, “I can still smell his cologne.”

“A man’s jacket?” Karina and Ningning suddenly appear out of thin air.

Squeezing your eyes shut before shoving your face into the palms of your hands, you wish you could disappear right there and then. There’s no point in even trying to explain yourself. You doubt you’d even get through the story without smiling.

“Y/n honey, we need to talk.” Ningning reaches for your hand.

“talk?” You ask but get ignored by all four of your roommates. Karina and Winter both guide you to sit on your bed for whatever it is that Ningning has to say. She holds your hand as she looks at you to say “You’re forbidden from ever seeing him again.”

You cry “Wha- forbidden. you can’t do this.” You look around to the rest of the girls to defend you but they do absolutely nothing.

“We've already set you up on a date with your soulmate.” Ningning leans in front of you so you can turn your attention back to her.

“soulmate?” You question first but then circle back to the bigger problem. “A date?”

“You’ve led us to do this.”

“How is this my fault? I didn’t ask for this.”

“we’re worried for you, if you don’t start dating now then when?” Winter interjects.

“This is absurd, I don’t need to date.” You argue but it’s of no use because you still end up at the diner where the girls told you the date was gonna take place.

You’re not really dressed for a date, just a simple pair of jeans, some sneakers, and the oversized green varsity jacket that you acquired two days ago.

Wearing another guy's jacket on a date wasn’t ideal but neither was going on a date against your will.

It was by force obviously, you weren’t here because you wanted to be but because you had no other choice. Ningning threatened to burn all of your prized possessions if you spent less than 30 minutes with the man she’s been dying to set you up with.

Quite frankly you were starting to grow curious about this Sohee guy.

“Table 4” You murmur under your breath, it’s not hard at all to find the table. You knew this diner like the back of your hand since it’s the place that you and your roommates used as a hangout spot since your first year of university. However, you begin to question yourself when you see a familiar face sitting at the table where your date’s supposed to be.

“What are you doing here?” You stop and question.

The bow stands up when he notices you approach him “I’m here to see you.”

“You can’t be here, I have a date.”

“With Sohee?” He asks, but it sounds more like a statement to you.

You’ve seen this before. (not from personal experience of course.) You’re getting stood up by a man you’ve never even met. The funniest part is you never wanted to go on this date in the first place. “Did he bail at the last minute?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever gotten a chance to properly introduce ourselves.” The boy speaks,

“If he’s not coming we don’t need to waste our time, I completely understand.” You halfway turn to leave before he blurts “I’m Sohee.” He holds his hand out.

This was a twist you didn’t even see coming. Looking at him with his hand held out towards you, all you can think about is Ningning trying to convince you that you and him were “written in the stars.”

“Oh, you’re Sohee.” You repeat followed by a laugh of embarrassment. “Sorry about that, I thought-” You’re getting ready to explain yourself but decided against it.

“Do you wanna sit down?” Sohee asks, only after watching you stare nervously at the chair in front of you.

“Oh yeah, that’d be smart.”

Awkward is when you take ten minutes staring at the menu because you thought that would be better than staring at the boy in front of you. Taking your time to read the food items, ingredients, and even calories (which you couldn’t care less about.) Especially when you already knew what you were gonna order anyway. The same thing you always order, A burger with a side of fries and a lemonade.

“I’ve never seen you this shy before.” Sohee interrupts your thoughts as he pulls the menu from your hands.

“I’m not shy, I’m just trying to figure out what I wanna eat.” You spit, pulling the menu back so you can finish wasting time. 10 minutes down, 20 more to go.

“I’m guessing you don’t go on lots of dates.” He continues. You wanna yell at him for talking too much while you’re trying to read, but you don’t. You don’t get the chance to, as soon as you open your mouth the waitress comes out with food.

“We haven’t ordered yet.” You look up to the kind waitress.

“I ordered for you, I wasn’t sure what you might’ve wanted so I just got you a burger.” As if on cue the server places a burger right in front of you, with a cup of lemonade to match.

You wanted to hate him, but boy was he making it so hard.

“If you already ordered, why did you let me spend so much time looking at the menu?” You ask when the waitress leaves.

“In case I got something you didn’t like.” He says casually, reaching for his fork.

Either you're just very simple or he’s made to be the love of your life. it could be both.

“You didn’t have to walk me home.” You’re looking at the ground, watching how your footsteps are in sync with his. It’s pretty dark outside so naturally it’s colder, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother you.

“I wanted to.” He says simply, and the look in his eyes tells you that he’s being sincere.

It falls silent again, still awkward but this time it’s a comfortable awkwardness. And now that you kinda got to know him you realize that he’s not nearly as bad as you thought he was. So much for first impressions.

“We’re here.” You stop right in front of your apartment building, standing on your tippy toes and landing back on your heels.

He first takes a glance at the semi-tall building and then back down at you, who's trying to look anywhere else but him.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me tonight.”

“yeah of course.” You nod even though you were completely against the idea.

“I had fun.”

“Me too.” You nod again.

“So I guess I'll just see you around?” You can tell he’s just stalling now.

“I’ll definitely see you around.” you giggle.

“I guess it’s time for you to go now.”

“I guess so.” you agree

“Well, goodnight.”

“goodnight Sohee.” you watch him walk away, but he’s taking his sweet time. dragging his feet along the ground the farther he walks away from you. You almost find it amusing how dramatic he’s being.

As you get ready to walk in and you grab the ends of the jacket you're wearing you realize that this is the perfect opportunity to return it.

“oh, Sohee.” You only have to call out once for him to come running back to you as if he never left.

“yeah?”

“Your jacket.” He stops you when you’re halfway through pulling it off.

“Keep it, it looks good on you.”

“Are you sure?”

“goodnight, Y/n,” He says last, walking away and leaving you with his jacket.

“How’d it go? What happened? Isn’t he cute?” Ningning bombards you with questions when you first step foot through your door.

“he’s tolerable” You kick off your shoes and throw them off to the side. Then you reach to pull your jacket off, sliding it down your shoulders and hanging it up once you reach your bedroom.

“That’s great, it’s an improvement.”

“If you say so.”

“Did he say anything about the jacket? I told you not to wear the jacket.” Ningning mumbles

“I bet he smelled the other man’s cologne.” Giselle snickers as she walks by.

“He said it looks good on me.” The room goes quiet and everyone stares at you...” Ningning watches you, jaw slacked and dilated pupils.

“Y/n has a boyfriend, Y/n has a boyfriend.” It takes them not even ten seconds to form a circle around you and begin dancing like school children on the playground.

Your favorite time of day is when the sun begins to set. When the sky is painted in shades of orange and pink the birds fly over the sky. Your bedroom is flooded with the natural lighting of the sky, matching the mood of the jazz you have playing in your headphones.

For a moment you sit and gaze out of your window, observing the people walking the streets below you, watching the cars drive past and the trees that sway in the direction of the wind. All of these things distract and entertain you, yet they still remind you of the boy you're trying so hard to forget.

You stand up and close the blinds of your apartment. Blocking out all light, your room drifts into complete darkness, with only peaks of light shining through the cracks.

That’s how it stays when you walk into the kitchen with the rest of your roommates.

‘Oh, there she is.” Karina dramatically announces your appearance when you shuffle into the crowded space. Taking a seat on the stool next to her.

“How come you don’t talk to us anymore?” Giselle asks

“You are being dramatic, we talked this morning.”

“You only asked me if I knew what you did with that hideous green jacket.” She scoffs

“It’s not hideous, you just have no taste.” You playfully scold.

“Whose jacket is that anyway?” Winter speaks up, digging in the fridge to pull out the orange juice. Wincing when Ningning slaps her arm for drinking out of the carton instead of grabbing a cup like everyone else.

“Mine.” You answer.

“No but actually?” Giselle asks, just as curious as the rest of the girls who are all watching and waiting for you to answer the question honestly.

“Some guy let me borrow it because I spilled coffee on myself.” You leave out quite a few details but you’re sure what they don’t know won’t hurt them.

“Okay so wait? Some random guy gave you his jacket-” Winter starts but Karina finishes “And you accepted it.”

“I didn’t wanna walk around with coffee stains.” You shrug.

“This is great, this is great. You’ll just go downstairs and explain that to Sohee so he won’t get the wrong idea.” Ningning claps as she gradually gets closer and tugs at your arm. Completely missing how blatantly confused you are.

“Downstairs?”

“Yeah, in his apartment” She never stops tugging at your arm.

“Wait, he lives here?”

“Yeah? Unit 411.” Ningning finally registers just how confused you are. “Didn’t he tell you?”

Instead of answering her question you run out, leaving her and the rest of the girls as puzzled as you were a few moments ago.

Without thinking much you knock on the door, just to see if what Ningning said was true. But after you knock you start growing anxious, suddenly you can hear your heartbeat and your hands are frantically moving at your side.

In the span of 10 seconds, you check the unit number 12 times just to make sure that you have the right one, and you’re not knocking on someone else's door. Soon you start to wonder what would happen if someone else answered the door.

Just when you come to the conclusion to bail, you hear the doorknob turn and the door opens to reveal the boy you expected to see.

Unfortunately, now that you see him, you realize you hadn’t planned after this point. So you just stare at him eyes wide, unsure of what to say or do. You’re just as shocked as he is when he stares back at you with a matching expression.

You clear your throat before you take the initiative to speak first. “Why didn’t you tell me that you lived here too?”

He answers, “I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“Oh… that makes sense.” You nod, looking down at your pajama pants and bunny slippers.

“Do you wanna come in?” He holds the door open for you to accept his invitation but you shake your head and back up.

“No, I can't, I have to~” You struggle to come up with an excuse. “Finish my laundry.” You finish, nodding as if that’s gonna make him believe you.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you around then?”

“I guess it’ll be hard not to.”

You were never too fond of men.

While most people had a tragic backstory that led them to hate the things they hate, you didn’t.

You weren’t crossed by a man in your past resulting in your blatant hatred of the entire species. Sure you’d had unfavorable interactions with quite a few men in your life, but that wasn’t what led you to dislike them.

It took many years of observation for you to come to your conclusion on the male race. However it didn’t take long for you to learn a few things about them.

But the most important thing was, they were all the same.

That’s what you thought for years, every man, boy, guy, or male is the same. Yet, you find that your conclusion might not be entirely accurate.

Looking at Sohee you feel that he’s different from all the guys you’ve ever come across. He isn’t selfish, or obnoxious. He isn’t entirely full of himself.

He’s actually sweet and easy to be around.

Which was good for you because, since you found out that he lived within a few hundred feet from you he began to follow you around like a puppy.

Whether it was walking you to and from class, or even showing up to your apartment with breakfast.

It was off-putting at first,

You mindlessly strolled down the hallway of your apartment building. You weren’t thinking of anything other than the leftovers you were gonna eat when you finally got home.

Sohee however had different plans. The second you turned the corner you noticed him standing at your door with what looked like a bag of takeout.

Your body goes into shock before you can even comprehend what you’re doing. You hide behind the corner.

You think maybe that’ll buy you enough time to figure out what to do next. You take a deep breath before slapping your hand over your mouth.

You take a look at all the options you have. You could either sneak out through the stairs or you could take your chances with the elevator and hope that the girls aren’t on their way home.

“Who are we hiding from?” Sohee suddenly appears right beside you. Causing you to jump in horror, luckily you were able to come up with a lie on the spot.

“I was just… looking for my earring, I think I might've dropped it.” You pretend to look around for a nonexistent piece of jewelry.

“What does it look like? I'll help you find it.” Rather than making him help you look for something that you knew was never going to be found you concocted another lie.

“uh no it’s okay, they were getting old anyways.” You say, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“Oh well, do you wanna have lunch together?” He grins, holding up the brown paper bag in front of your face.

But over time you’d gotten used to it, and maybe even came to kind of like his dog-like personality.

“So you’re a man-hater” Sohee starts, despite knowing that you hated when people talked while you were reading.

He’s not necessarily an exception but you don’t get as mad about it when he does it. You continue reading, but you spare a moment to respond to him.

“I guess you can say that.” Your eyes are still glued to the words of the book.

“But you like me.” He continues, you make the mistake of pulling your gaze away from your novel, meeting the annoying smirk he has on his face.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “You do know I'm a man right?”

“Yes, I know you’re a man. I have eyes.”

You watch his grin grow wider before you go back to reading your book. “And I don't like you, I just don’t hate you as much as the others.”

You say, even though you're sitting in his bed, your hair pushed up into a bun and your glasses hanging loosely above your nose. It’s a Saturday night, you could be doing skin care with your girls or binging cartoons on Netflix. But you chose to be here, in his room spending time with him.

To him, that said a lot.

“Woah, so you're in love with me.” Sohee jokes partly.

“How did you come up with that?” You laugh, turning on your side to face him better.

Sohee shrugs, “It’s a talent.” He wasn’t too far off. You often denied it whenever someone brought it up but if you were being honest. you were falling for him, faster and harder than you liked to admit.

The more you resisted, the easier he made it. There wasn’t anything you could do, it was inevitable.

Almost as if it was fate.

You laugh to yourself thinking about it, laying your book down and fully relaxing into the fluffy white pillows he has aligned on his bed.

You’re fighting against sleep, trying your hardest to keep your heavy eyelids open. Taking long blinks until you finally give in and let yourself fall asleep.

Sohee finally comes back with the water you asked him for but you’re already well into your slumber. He’s sure of it because when he gently calls your name all he gets in response is a soft snore.

Rather than waking you up, he pulls your glasses off, closes them, and lays them on the bedside table. He leaves for a brief moment to get you another cover, laying it over top of you and turning the lights off so you can rest peacefully. While he took the couch for the night.

“Where were you?” Ningning scolds. Not even letting you walk all the way in the door before she starts bombarding you with questions

“Do you know how long I stayed up waiting for you? I was worried sick.” She continues to yell at you when you finally squeeze past her and walk into the apartment.

“You went to sleep at nine.” Winter exposes her

“I was worried sick.” Ningning repeats, swinging her index finger around.

“I slept at Sohee’s.” You say almost in a whisper but Karina is somehow able to hear you all the way from her room.

“What?” She runs out, “You slept at a man's house? With a man?”

“Yes, and that’s all we did. So don’t get your expectations too high.” You scold, specifically pointing your finger at Ningning who’s bouncing with joy. You can already tell what she’s thinking before she even says it.

“No, we didn’t sleep in the same bed,”

The rain outside sounds more like a hail storm than anything else. You just wait by the entrance of the school and contemplate if you wanna walk home in this weather.

The sound of the heavy wind isn’t so convincing but the boy waving at you with a bright smile might be enough to sway you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, mindlessly walking into the rainstorm to meet him face to face.

“I came to walk you home.” He responds, his smile unwavering.

“You shouldn’t have, you’re all wet now and it’s cold you’re gonna get sick.” You’re scolding him but he’s still grinning at you like an idiot.

“I wanted to.” Is all he says locking eyes with you.

The rain could be snow, the sky might be purple but his eyes, you’re sure are brown. A brown that can only be seen with the help of the sun. Now that the sun was nowhere to be found they were so dark it could be categorized as black.

You find them the most mesmerizing at this moment. You’re staring at him and he’s staring back at you. That’s when you take the opportunity to see how his lips feel, closing in the space in between you that not even a drop of rain can fit through.

Isn’t it crazy how love can be found in the strangest of places, who would’ve thought you’d fall head over heels for the weirdo you met in a coffee shop?

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