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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick, laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years ago

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Better than me

This is my very first Joel Miller x Reader work. And I completely got carried away. I may do a series, if you guys like it? Joel deserves all the love in the world 🥺Please, let me know what you think!

Summary: You live across the street from Joel. Every night, you watch him play the guitar on his porch and one night, you find the courage to go out and talk to him.

Songs: Future days ; Better than me

Warnings: Smut, oral, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex, a bit of roughness

Words count: 5k

Jackson, Wyoming

Just like every night, your neighbor Joel Miller was sitting on his porch, playing his guitar. Just like every night, you stood by your window, listening to whatever he’s playing, tonight he settled on ‘Future days’. You remembered this song from a long time ago. And just like every night, you hoped you’d find the courage to go out and talk to him.

But you never really talked to him. You crossed paths every now and then, barely exchanging two sentences. It’s way much easier to talk with Ellie, the teenager living with him. One day, you were actually talking with Ellie inside the house and when he got home, you found a stupid excuse and disappeared pretty quickly.

You haven’t been able to find the courage to talk to him. Until that night. It was 2am, and you could still hear him play. He was trying to be silent, even though that’s not really possible. You quickly checked yourself in the shitty small mirror of your bathroom and got out of your house. Joel noticed you only when you were standing right in front of him.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” he gently asked.

“Nah, don’t worry. Couldn’t sleep,” you waved off. “Thought I’d enjoy the music from closer,” you were thankfully it was dark outside, so he couldn’t see you profusely blushing.

“Take a seat,” he offered, showing off the chair next to him. “I’m not sure we’ve ever been properly introduced?” he said, after you settled next to him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you smiled. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m from Nevada, I’ve been in Jackson for a few months and well-- what else can we say?”

He chuckled. “Fair. Joel Miller,” he said, extending his hand to you over his guitar and you shook it. “I’m from Texas. And I play the guitar,”

“Noticed. You actually have been my personal radio for the past months,”

“As long as you enjoy it. Do you play?”

“Unfortunately not. I used to play violin though,” you confessed. “Long time ago,”

“I wish I could find one, just to hear you play,”

That night, most of the conversation turned around music and instruments. You were a teenager when the virus appeared, and you were a music junkie. You didn’t know why but you confessed to Joel that your dream was to be a rockstar and tour all around the world with a band. He told you about his favorite artists back then, and how he started to play the guitar. He confessed about writing songs when the inspiration hits. Which hasn’t for a while.

The next day, you happily joined him again. This time, you talked less about music and more about yourselves. Joel told you about Ellie, how he met her and how that teenager made her way to his heart. For a moment, he considered telling you about Sarah, but what would be the point? You don’t know each other enough, and he didn’t want to look like the man stuck twenty years prior. Even if you all are, somehow. You told him about your family, that you lost a while ago and how you ended up here in Jackson.

For weeks, meeting Joel on his porch became a thing. You were there almost every night, even when there were some sorts of events in town. You enjoyed his company way more than you should and so did he. But neither of you would say so. Some nights, he didn’t even pick up his guitar, it was just you and him, right there, talking. Falling.

One night, Joel’s heart rushed into his chest as he saw you walking with a limp, up to your house. He put his guitar down and jogged to you, right before you slammed your front door. “Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.

“Huh, yeah, yeah. My knee didn’t appreciate today’s patrol,” you told him, motioning him to join inside your house.

“Were you attacked or something?” he asked, watching you collapsing on your couch.

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m just a klutz,” you tiredly giggled. Joel wanted to laugh too but he was still very worried. He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your leg to put it under.

“I’ll be right back in ten minutes, okay?”

You didn’t have time to overthink. Joel left your house in a rush and true to his words, he came back ten minutes later with something in his hand. You hadn’t moved a bit, and you watched him approaching. What he had in his hands was ice. “Do you mind if I bounce back your pants?” he asked and you nodded.

Ever so gently, Joel freed your injured knee and put the ice on it. You hissed at the cold and thanked him anyway. “I’m gonna let you rest,”

You didn’t want him to leave. Not just yet. “You know, the pain will probably keep me awake for a while. I wouldn’t mind a private concert by my favorite guitarist,”

Joel chuckled at that, trying to avoid how it made his heart melt. “Fine. I’ll be right back,”

That night, Joel played ‘Future days’ over and over after you asked him to. He kept playing and singing until you fell asleep next to him.

It took a few weeks for your knee to heal, during which Joel had been nothing but an angel. He was over your house every day, checking on your knee to make sure it was properly healing. He made sure you have enough ice and he brought your meals to prevent you from going to the self. Even while being on a patrol, he found a way to have your meals being brought to you.

“Must be nice to be Joel Miller’s favorite,” Jesse joked as you opened the door. He was holding your dinner in one hand and some ice in the other. “God I wish someone would home delivered for me,”

You let your friend in, and settled back on your couch with your leg up. “I can injure your knee for you,” you offered with a grin.

“Wouldn’t work. I’m not cute enough to get Joel’s attention,”

“Shut up!”

Jesse sat next to you. “His guitar’s here. Is he living here? Oh my god, are you guys dating?”

“No! We’re just friends,” you explained. “We just share the same love of music. So, yes, he does come here and plays,”

“Wow, you really think I’m gonna buy this?” Jesse raised an eyebrow at you.

“Jesse, I swear. Nothing is happening between me and Joel,”

“But you wished,”

“Just leave already.” you retorted.

“Y/N, be careful, okay? The man is broken,”

“Yeah, so?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,”

“Right. Cause you surely stopped loving Dina when you found that she was a lesbian!”

“I’m just saying, Y/N.”

“Thanks for the home delivery,” you don’t want a cold to stand between you and Jesse, “If I had money, I’d tip you,” you smiled at him.

“You know, you could pay me in nature,”

While that sentence made you laugh, Joel didn’t have the same reaction. He was standing right behind Jesse, his arms crossed over his chest. Your friend didn’t see him at first, still waiting for you to say something, “Hi, Joel,” you said, embarrassed.

Jesse didn’t turn around immediately. He knew Joel would kill him if he could. “I’m just gonna go and avoid your eyes, Joel,” he said, leaving the house in a rush, his face buried deep in his shoulders.

“Good call,” Joel muttered.

“It was just a joke,” you said as soon as you heard the door closing.

“I wouldn’t be sure about that, Y/N. He was just waiting for you to say yes,” Joel was still standing with his arms crossed.

“So, what if I agreed?” you teased him, hoping it would make things move forward a little. But it didn’t.

“Do you want me to call him back? He isn’t far, yet,”

“Just come here and give me my hug, would you?”

Joel’s anger - and obvious jealousy - evaporated as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He isn’t much of a hugger, but you are and you managed to make him addicted to your hugs. He loves being intoxicated by your scent, he loves how you hold him tight, he loves how your fingers always find their way to the small hair in the back of his head. And you love how he buries his head in your back, how his strong arms wrap you so perfectly, how his hands sometimes grab your clothes in a fist.

A few weeks later

Your knee was completely healed and you were back on patrols. Things were moving in Jackson and you and Joel spent less late nights together. You were missing him and he was missing you.

One night, a ball was being held. Everyone here needed that every now and then to cheer up and have some good time. Jesse, Dina and Ellie convinced you to come. You did and as predicted, you spent the entire night waiting for Joel to appear, but he never did.

You were walking back to your house around 3 in the morning. As you approached your street, you could hear the music. Instead of going home, you stopped in front of Joel’s porch. “You said you’d come,” you told him.

“I know, I shouldn’t have. Those aren’t my thing,” he apologized. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you said, lying just a little and sitting next to him. “Just disappointed. It was really nice,”

“No doubt. I’m sorry,”

“I’ll accept your apology with you show me how to play,”

Joel chuckled and handed you his guitar. Then, he moved his chair closer to yours. His chest was literally against your back, his face a few inches from yours. You tried to focus on the instrument, but he made it really hard as his hand covered yours in order to show you where to put your fingers. He started with the easiest chord, E.

As you played violin, it wasn’t completely new to you. But you’d have played dumb if needed, as long as he stayed right where he was. When E sounded good, Joel turned his face to the side to look at you. You were already staring. His lips were so close to yours, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your eyes.

It was now or never. You took your shot and crashed your lips on his. Thankfully, he eagerly responded to your kiss. One of his hands moved to your neck, his beard was gently tickling your skin and he parted his lips, letting his tongue out. You happily welcomed his tongue into your mouth and moaned. The kiss was passionate and intense, Joel couldn’t get you close enough to his liking.

But eventually, he broke it off. You whined, and when you opened your eyes again, you couldn’t see it caused him physical pain to break the kiss. “Don’t you want—“ you start to say.

“I do,” he cut you off. “God, how I do,” his nose was brushing against yours, his hand still in your neck.

“Then why aren’t lips on mine anymore?” You gently nipped his bottom lip and that made him chuckle.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” He had to ask.

“Fuck, Joel. I’ve been simping over you for ages,”

“Simping?”

“Right, sorry I forgot how old you are,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m gonna show you how old I am, babygirl,” he groaned.

In a flash, Joel grabbed his guitar and your wrist. You’re actually not sure which one he was holding the softest. He put the guitar in the living room and took you to his bedroom. As soon as he kicked the door shut, he spinned you around, holding you against the door and his lips crashed on yours, roughly.

He didn’t kiss you long enough, though. He quickly drifted south, and assaulted your neck. You moaned in his hair, and you could feel the obvious bulge in his jeans against your thighs. His hands traveled under your top and you tried to palm his erection, but he immediately stopped you.

Joel grabbed your wrists into his hand and pinned them above your head. He just stared for a moment. Stared at your swollen lips, at the marks he already made in your neck and in your eyes. You were looking at him with both killing desire and love. It confused him for a brief second but he shut his brain and kissed you again.

You were desperate to touch him, undress him, feel him. But he was strongly holding your hands, all you could was grinding your center against his thigh. “So needy,” he whispered in your ear before nipping the lobe. You swallowed thickly and let out a loud moan.

“Yes, I need you Joel. Please,” you begged him. When was the last time someone beg for him?

“It’s been such a long time, I probably won’t last,” he breathed out, shamefully.

“We have a lifetime ahead of us, who cares,”

That sentence didn’t have the impact you were shooting for. In a second, you were completely free from Joel’s grip as he took a big step back. He was panting. “That’s not—“ he whispered, trying to put his thoughts into words.

“Aw baby, did you already come?” you teased him.

“That was a close call, but that’s not my point, Y/N,” you could see he was getting angry. But why? At who?

You took a step forward, your hands tenderly cupping his bearded cheeks. “Then what is your point?” you asked, genuinely concerned.

“This—is a bad idea,” Joel struggled. He leaned into your touch but frowned as he knew he couldn’t enjoy it too much. “You—you should leave,” he wrapped his hands around your wrists, forcing you to let go of his face.

“Not until you give me one good reason, Joel.” Now, you were getting angry. Hurt. Frustrated. All of that.

“You deserve better—“ he whispered. “Better than me,”

“That’s not a good—“

“That’s good enough for me. Please, Y/N.” He begged you, pain clearly written all over his face.

“You’re making a big mistake, you know that?” Joel heard your voice cracking and you had barely finished your sentence, that his thumb was softly brushing your lips.

“That’s my jam,” he sadly tried to joke.

You have no idea what happened in his mind in a brief period of time but for whatever reason, Joel wanted you to leave. He had changed his mind and you’re not the kind of person to force people. If he doesn’t want you like this, if he doesn’t want you around him, you’ll let him be.

You left his house. Leaving you both broken-hearted.

A year later

Avoiding someone in Jackson isn’t an easy task, but somehow, Joel managed to do it pretty well. He always disappeared when you showed up, no matter where it was. He managed to never stare at you from afar when you were definitely staring. The only moment you could’ve walked to him and asked for explanations was at night, as he kept playing the guitar and all of those songs you kept talking about. But he asked you to leave and never apologized. Why would you be the one to make the first move?

As Joel checked his next patrol, he noticed he’s set on a patrol with you the very next day. Completely pissed off, he bursted into Tommy’s office and slammed the door behind. He planted his fists on the desk and stared at his younger brother. “Why the hell am I teaming with Y/N for tomorrow’s patrol?” he barked.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tommy asked, genuinely curious as to why Joel was that mad.

“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I just don’t want to team up with her,”

“I’ll consider making some changes, if you give me a good reason,” Tommy stood up and got closer to Joel.

“I--I almost had sex with her,”

“Almost? Couldn’t get through with it, brother?” Tommy teased him.

Before answering, Joel threw himself on the worn out couch and Tommy sat on the armbar, waiting for explanations. “We were--at it. But I had to stop,” Joel admitted, growling at himself.

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Tommy, fuck off,”

“I honestly don’t understand how in the world you couldn’t have sex with one of the most beautiful women in Jackson,”

“Cause-- she deserves better than this. Better than me,”

“Bullshit!” Tommy shouted.

“Listen, I’m an old grumpy and lonely guy--” Joel trailed off.

“Cut the crap, bro. I’ve always wondered what her deal was, since she’s turning down all the guys around, but now it makes sense. She clearly wants you,”

“She shouldn’t,”

“Don’t you think that’s on her to decide? So, please, get the hell out of my office, go on that patrol with her tomorrow and take things back where you left them,”

“You’re the worst brother ever,” Joel rolled his eyes.

“I know. I want my brother to get laid, how horrible of me,” Tommy sarcastically answered, before giving his brother a tap in his back.

The next day came way too fast for Joel.

He was late and people were pressing you to do the patrol. You took the two horses with you and walked up to his house. You knocked and let yourself in immediately, “Joel, you’re late,” you called out for him, “I know you don’t want to spend the day with me but we don’t have a choice,” you spoke loudly, not knowing where he was. As you walked to the kitchen, you saw Ellie packing her bag. “Oh, hey El!” you greeted her, hoping you weren’t blushing.

She smiled at you. “Joel’s in the bathroom. He should be down in a minute,” she told you before walking out. “He brought some coffee. Help yourself,”

“Oh, nice!”

Upstairs, Joel couldn’t decide what to wear. Why did it matter anyway? Why did he want to look...good for you? He didn’t have much clothes and all of them were used and dirty. But he settled for his green shirt, as he remembered you telling him it looked good on him. He checked his hair and beard one more time, he even checked his breath before cursing to himself. And he joined you downstairs.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee in Joel’s used mug and started to look around, waiting for him. You hadn’t been there in a year, you hadn’t even approached the porch. You missed this, you missed Joel.

A paper on the coffee table grabbed your attention. You took it in your hand and started to read what was on it, but you heard Joel’s footsteps coming down. You only had a glimpse of it

“The bed I'm lying in is getting colder

Wish I never would've said it's over

And I can't pretend

I won't think about you when I'm older

'Cause we never really had our closure

This can't be the end

I really miss your hair in my face

And the way your innocence tastes

And I think you should know this

You deserve much better than me”

You recognized Joel’s handwriting. This really sounded like a song, but no time to analyze it, as he took the paper from your hand and folded it in his back pocket. “Is that a song?” You asked.

“Really don’t want to talk about it. Let’s go,”

“Haven’t finished my coff—“ you didn’t have time to finish either your sentence or your coffee. Joel grabbed the mug from your hand and drank the rest of the brown liquor.

“There. Finished.”

“Wow, it’s gonna be a long day,” you mumbled in your teeth as you were walking out.

“What?” Joel asked from behind.

“It’s gonna be a wonderful day!” You sarcastically exclaimed.

It was indeed a long day. You and Joel barely talked, only exchanging about your ride of the day. You tried your best not to look much at him, but it was hard as he was looking this good with his green shirt. The worst was when he rolled up his sleeves, showing off his strong and veiny forearms.

On the other hand, Joel spent the entire day looking at you. Most of the time, you were riding the horse in front of him. He had a perfect view on your ass and he loved how it bounced. You were wearing an old tank top, letting him see your tattoo on your shoulder. He wanted to press his lips against your skin again. He missed you like hell.

“Are you mad at me, Y/N?” he asked, while the two of you had gone down from the horses. You turned around to face him.

“Mad?” you sounded angry but somehow, your body language and the sadness on your face said otherwise. “No, I’m just--lost. I still don’t understand, Joel.” you shrugged. There was something in your expression, on your face, that broke his heart all over again.

“I told you.” he just answered.

“Well okay, let’s say that it doesn’t make sense to me,” you corrected yourself, “We spent so much time together, and every second was amazing. Then we kissed and--you took me inside your house, you pinned me against your door, I thought it was going really well and all of the sudden, you backed off. And--and you spent the past year avoiding me, but somehow, you still play your fucking guitar on your porch, knowing that I can hear you. Hell, you spend a serious amount of time playing ‘Future days’— and what you wrote—”

You hadn’t realized you were rambling until his lips crashed into yours. Rough but tender at the same time, his beard tickled your nose. He was holding your face in his hands, making you as close as possible to him. It stayed a chaste kiss until he pulled back. “And now you’re kissing me again,” you said, a bit shaken in a beautiful way.

“I just wanted you to shut up,” he smirked.

“Please, make some sense, Joel,” you pleaded him. “Because I really don’t understand and it prevents me from moving on,” you paused, “Not that I actually want to move on,”

“You never shut up, do you?”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t stop kissing me,”

Back at your house

This past year was long forgotten when you and Joel reached your house. You locked your door behind and basically ran to your bedroom, taking him with you. You were so fast, Joel almost tripped in the stairs. Once in your bedroom, you threw him on your bed and straddled him. You were not going to let him escape this time.

You crashed your lips on his, and you kissed him feverishly. You never unbuttoned a shirt this fast in your life. Joel’s hands got under your tank top and quickly got rid of it, along with your bra. Joel cupped one of your breasts in his hand and brought his mouth to the other. He played with your nipples for a moment, while you freed him from his jeans and boxers. You stroked him a few times, feeling some precum on your fingers. Joel let out the biggest moan he ever had. It’s been so long. So fucking long, he couldn’t stand the foreplay, “I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Like, right now,” he growled.

You got off his lap just to take your pants and panties off. Joel’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body. He could’ve come just from the sight.

You pushed his shoulders so he was completely laying on the bed. Joel felt your wetness when you started to grind your center against his hard cock. It was killing him.

“Just for my peace of mind,” he managed to say, “You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asked, his hands resting on your hips.

“Would it change something if I was?” you answered, pressing your body against his.

“Yes. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. I would take my time with you,” he gently said, planting soft kisses around your mouth.

“I’m not a virgin. It’s been a while though, does hymen grow back?”

Joel laughed at that, but his laugh quickly turned into a deep growl as you made him penetrate you. You slided onto him so slowly, it took everything in his power not to shove his length as deep as he could. You felt his fingers digging so hard on your hips, you’ll probably wake up with bruises in the morning. It’s been such a long time, it almost felt like it was indeed your first time.

As he bottomed out, Joel kissed you roughly. He’s not going to last. This is too much. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so tight,” he groaned in your ear, holding your hair in his fist.

You pulled out slowly and got him to bottom out again. You rode him with this killer pace, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He made you roll over and pinned you down onto the mattress. Again, his fingers dug into your skin, and his lips crashed on yours in a rough and sloppy kiss. Joel quickened the pace, fucking you relentlessly. He could hear you cry his name and it quickly became a blur to him. It was so much for him, he completely forgot about your pleasure and after a few quick and hard thrusts, Joel came deep inside your pussy, crying your name out loud.

This was too quick, you didn’t have time to cum too. But you didn’t mind, you knew he was going to get even. Plus, seeing him falling apart on top of you like that was the most sexy and erotic and amazing thing you ever witnessed. That image only could get you soaking wet. Pretty much like you were at this moment.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he said, collapsing on you.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. He was sweaty as hell, but you loved the taste of him on your lips.

“God,” he panicked, “I came inside you,” he looked at you with wide eyes, realizing the risk it was. He should have never come inside you. This is way too risky. There are no birth controls and no condoms. He can’t do that again. The panic washed him over, but you stayed pretty calmed under him. “Why are you not freaking out? Yelling at me?”

“Is there anything we can do about it?” you asked, steady.

“Well--” he trailed off. Obviously, there’s nothing you can do about it. He came, it’s too late.

“I’ll be careful next time, I promise.” he apologized and kissed you.

Once the panic disappeared, Joel remembered that you didn’t come. He got carried away by his own pleasure, he completely forgot about yours. “Don’t move,” he ordered you and made a trail of wet kisses down to your core. You moaned when his lips reached your clit and he smirked. He licked and sucked on your clit for a moment, one of his arms around your waist to keep you still. When he felt your hand running through his hair, and your nails digging on his scalp, he moaned himself. “Fuck, you’re tasting yourself,” you breathed out.

“I couldn’t care less.” he muttered.

As he kept eating like a starving man, Joel surprised you with a thick finger entering your core. “Jesus, Joel! Yes!” you cried and he didn’t waste time adding another finger. His fingers were curling inside you, hitting exactly where they were supposed and he remained sucking hard on your clit. “Just like that, yes! Fuck!” he felt your body shaking under him and his free hand immediately rushed to your breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumb and index. He didn’t stop, not even slowed down until you came hard on his face, crying his name so loud, all Jackson probably heard you.

As you were catching your breath, Joel got back on top of you and wrapped an arm around your neck. He held you so tight, you almost couldn't breathe but you loved every second of it. You were surprised by his length teasing your oversensitive entrance, “I’ve never recovered this fast in my life.” he growled in your ear. “Can I?” he asked for your consent, gently kissing your temple.

“Yes please! Give it to me, baby. Fuck me!”

That was all he needed. He didn’t need his hand to slide inside of you again. In one thrust, he bottomed out and cursed. “You were made for me,” he said, huskily, before kissing you, all teeth and tongue.

As he thrusted hard and deep inside your pussy, you grabbed his ass and squeezed. He chuckled against your mouth and quickened his pace. He fucked you relentlessly again but this time, he took his time. There was less urge, he was thinking about your pleasure too.

He finally let go of your neck, and got on his knees, lifting your hips a little. Your ass was resting on his thighs as he kept thrusting. That angle drove both of you crazy. While one of his hands was holding your hips hard, he furiously rubbed your clit with the other. He could feel you're losing it. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” you told him. “Fuck, you feel so good!” you cried his name again, coming and creaming on his cock.

“God, I’ll never get used to that sight,” Seeing you losing it under his touch sent him over the edge. He managed to withdraw just in time to come on your stomach, he didn’t even have to give himself a few final strokes.

He collapsed on top of you again, not caring about the sticky mess between your bodies. “You’ll be the death of me, Y/N,” he said and you chuckled.

“I love you, Joel. There’s no better than you,”

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us part 2

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1kook · 5 years ago

Text

hulu & woohoo

summary: But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings: slight feelings of insecurity, smut; fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, handjobs, unprotected, riding, slight praise kink misc: if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read wc: 6.3k

[ this is a sequel to netflix & chill !! ]

started off silly then I was like 😳what if we sprinkled in a dilemma™️😳 anyway here’s the kook i imagined for this fic <3

Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook does in fact have his own paid subscription to Netflix. He doesn’t ride on his family account anymore, nor does he swindle his friends into sharing their passwords ‘just once.’ Just like everything else about his mature persona, Jungkook is adamant on paying those ten and something dollars for the streaming platform.

However, his fall into capitalism doesn’t end there.

Among other things, Jungkook also pays for Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney Plus, HBO, as well as a couple indie stuff you’ve never heard of in all your years. He’s a bigger nerd than you originally thought, with an incessant need to watch every single piece of media available.

Frankly, you don’t see the need to own so many different streaming services, especially not when pirating websites exist and you could so easily watch Jersey Shore for free, if you’re not too concerned with infecting your laptop with every software virus known to humankind. Luckily for you, your app developer boo with his—admittedly tiny—knowledge in computers can iron out those issues for you.

It’s moments like these, Jungkook fiddling with the internal system settings of your laptop to the best of his abilities, that you find yourself grateful for having met Jungkook, and even if it’s been a little over two months now and he still hasn’t popped the question (“Will you be my girlfriend?”), you’d still kiss him silly.

He sighs for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the same system warning on the screen. “Babe, just pay the six bucks for Hulu and you can watch all the Jersey Shore episodes you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair as he stares at you from across the dining table.

You scoff, almost scandalized by his suggestion. “You think I have the resources to hand over six bucks every month?” You abandon your homework in front of you, the one you had so dutifully been working on before your computer was flooded with about a thousand Hot Moms in YOUR Area! notifications before abruptly shutting down. “Buddy, that's lunch at Starbucks.”

Jungkook clicks around a few more times, round glasses sliding down his nose which he will occasionally scrunch up to save from falling. “First of all, lunch at Starbucks sounds sad,” he retorts, and you kick his shin from beneath the table. He doesn’t even flinch, the damn muscle bunny, instead leveling you with an unimpressed glare. “Second of all, I told you I’d give you my passwords but you said—“

“No!” You exclaim.

Call it what you want, but that rose-tinted image of Jungkook being a saint in this world, too sweet and naive for his own good, never faded. Your brain saw it that night of your first date and ran with it, never mind the fact he was quite the devious scoundrel, gentlemanly perception be damned the way he’d tug at your skirts and your hair in public like you were on the playground, always teasing, always playing with you, so discreetly no one would ever see it coming from him, of all people. Your brain saw all that too, the little childish streak he’d get sometimes, but your heart stomped it out, wrapped up in the image of Jungkook being your golden boy, and you couldn’t possibly take advantage of such an angel’s kindness to mooch off his streaming services.

From across the table, Jungkook gives you a pointed look, as if he knows you’re trapped in that brain of yours again. Unlike you, Jungkook was easily able to pick apart your true personality, and the way the devil on your shoulder spoke more often than not. He knew you were prone to outrageous schemes and evil villain monologues, and he still kept you around. Let you linger around his home in his big shirts and eat his healthy breakfasts with him. Jungkook liked you, as silly and mean as you were, and he was very obvious about it.

“The password—“

“Is none of my business,” you halt him with a tone of finality in your voice, gesturing for him to slide the beat up laptop back over. Jungkook sighs, runs a hand over his face like you’ve worn him out, but relents.

Taking it with a triumphant grin, you settle back into your seat, nudge his foot with yours beneath the table. Jungkook nudges you back, the adorable fuzzy socks he was wearing making you giggle, a sound that finally brings a smile to his face. “Y’know…” he says, “if you’re gonna be the Disney villain you claim to be, you might as well just take all my passwords.”

Rolling your eyes, you focus your attention back on copying some notes for class, falling back into the rhythm of glancing at the screen and back at your notebook. “You’re cute,” you mindlessly hum, taking great pleasure in the rosy hue that rises to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by coughing into his elbow. You set your pencil down, watch him squirm under your gaze like he always does, blushy and shy like he hadn’t had you twisted like a pretzel beneath him an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching over to place your hand over his, where it’s idly tapping over some textbook he’s got out. Immediately, he turns it over, squeezes your palm in his. “I don’t mind getting thirty two viruses an hour.”

The reluctant worry in his gaze remains, sweet puppy eyes flickering over you as if trying to catch a hint of a lie. He was so adorable, you could kiss him silly. Finally, Jungkook gives in, though he does so with a lot of effort; letting you fool around on pirating websites truly was the bane of his existence. “Just bring it to me if it breaks down again, okay?” He settles, and you nod.

To your surprise, he brings your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, holds your gaze like he absolutely adores you.

He was so handsome, so caring, and so blatantly not yours.

—

“Not heading to your boyfriend's house today?” Doyeon asks the second she steps into your shared dorm, fighting with the boots on her feet. In the last two months of knowing Jungkook (everybody say thank you, Kim Namjoon), it’s become rare to see you home for more than two nights in a row. Jungkook was irresistible in more ways than you could count. If you weren’t falling into bed with him, you were smothering his cute face on the couch, or hovering behind him in the kitchen.

“Not my boyfriend,” you deny, huffy, and she knows how you feel about the subject, which is why she only prods more.

“Wow,” Doyeon drawls, glancing over your shoulder where you’ve got Jersey Shore playing on one half of the screen, an essay document on the other. “The man you see every other night, who looks and fucks like a god, who buys you a shit ton of presents, and treats you like you’re his world… is not your boyfriend?”

On screen, the toxic couple of the century is engaged in another screaming match, the reality tv show quickly spiraling as dramatic music takes over the speakers.

You scratch the back of your head. “Yeah. Well.”

Doyeon almost combusts at your response, flinging herself onto her twin bed in disgust. “He is a fool, a court jester if you will,” she seethes. “You're the hottest babe in a fifteen mile radius chasing after him and he still hasn’t asked you?”

Deciding you can’t comfortably watch the toxicity on screen with Doyeon talking so loudly, you slam down on the spacebar to pause the show. The fickity website, set out to ruin you since you first discovered it a few weeks ago, crashes. It takes your half-assed essay with it as the whole computer suddenly blacks out. You sigh.

“And on top of that,” she’s still going, “you’re hot and evil. Like bro. Come on.”

“Yes, I’m sure every man dreams of getting with an evil seductress,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for your phone to text Jungkook for help, when you suddenly remember why exactly you’re not with him right now. He’d gone to Busan to visit his family this weekend, a quick trip, he’d told you with his tongue down your throat. You shiver at the memory.

You still really want to watch Jersey Shore, though. Almost desperately. It’d been a long time since you watched it, and you honestly forgot the pivotal role that and a bunch of other reality shows had played in shaping you into the conniving woman you were today.

Doyeon seems about done with her tirade against Jeon Jungkook, dramatically storming into the en-suite bathroom you share with your neighbors.

Tapping your phone against your lip, you carefully consider your options. You could just boot your laptop back up, pray for the best and move on. But the 240p episodes were doing a number on your eyes, and for a moment you considered handing over those six bucks to pay for a Hulu membership.

It’s short-lived, and eventually you settle on calling Jungkook.

He answers on the fourth ring, and wherever he is is insanely loud. There’s voices shouting, lots of bustling, until eventually a door closes and Jungkook’s silky voice oozes through the speaker. “Baby? What’s up?”

“Hi,” you respond, feel something disgustingly sweet settle in your chest. “Is this a bad time?” You ask tentatively.

Jungkook laughs, low and raspy. “No,” he tells you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Never a bad time for you.”

You could lunge through the screen right now, rain kisses down on his face until he’s giggling, telling you it’s too much. The feeling in your chest tightens, and you almost blurt out something embarrassingly cheesy, but a voice in the background calls for him, and Jungkook’s voice responds, “In a sec, mom. I’m talking to a friend right now.”

The glass roof shatters.

Even though you’d just told Doyeon you two weren’t a thing, despite all the coupley things you did, something about Jungkook telling his mom you’re just a friend isn't right. You frown, listen as his mother, a voice just as delicate as his, asks him to grab something from inside. With each second that ticks by, the discomfort you feel grows tenfold, until you’re barely holding yourself together.

Eventually, Jungkook returns. “So what’s up?” He asks again, and you remember what you initially called for. Putting on your big girl pants, you brush your uncalled for insecurities to the side, making sure he can’t detect anything in your tone.

“Your Hulu password. Can I have it?” You say, realize how robotical your voice sounds and belatedly throw in a, “please.”

Jungkook laughs, loud and boyish. The sound almost makes you melt, makes you fall for him even more. The niggling doubt in the back of your head still rings, but it’s temporarily washed away by the man on the phone. “Finally giving in?” He chuckles, doesn’t give you time to respond. “Sure, babe. I’ll text you the login stuff.” You hum, twirl your pencil idly as Jungkook announces he has to go, something about his family waiting on him. You bid him adieu, send him a halfhearted kiss over the phone, and only hope he feels half as content as you do when he does the same for you.

You don’t want to be dramatic about it. In your heart of hearts, you know Jungkook is just more reserved when it comes to dating. He wants to be one hundred percent sure your heart is in the same game as his, tied to the same rules, and putting in the same effort. But there’s a seed of insecurity that plants itself in the back of your head, tells you the reason Jungkook hasn’t asked you out is simply because you’re not good enough.

Jungkook was as rich as they come—not in money, but in personality. (Well, with the way he was advancing through his career, you get the sense he’ll be rich rich in the next few years too.) He had a huge heart, so caring and supportive of those around him, and an even bigger moral compass—hence the ridiculous amounts of streaming services he paid for—and you strongly believed no one was worthy of standing beside someone as wonderful as him.

Sadly, that meant you too.

Jungkook was your dream lover, and with every passing day, you were beginning to think you weren’t his. It had been two months since your first date, and realistically speaking, you know it’s not weird for people to casually date for such a time. It hadn’t been that long, truthfully, but the way you and Jungkook had clicked made it seem so.

He treated you like a queen, pleased your heart and body like no other. None of what Doyeon said earlier was a fib—he picked you up from school in that classy Benz, let you stay the night and sleep in his clothes, ate you out in the morning like you were his breakfast. You acted like you were in a relationship, but what exactly were the two of you?

Were Jungkook’s feelings even at the same level as yours?

Some days, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being so far away from him, texting him incessantly to feel a semblance of his presence. There was always a metaphorical elephant sitting on your chest, the weight of your unlabeled relationship, your insecurities, waiting for him to finally cut you off, decide you’re not what he wants. You wonder sometimes if he sees you out of convenience, but you always remind yourself Jungkook was too emotional and soft to drag someone around like that. (Or was he?)

Realizing how deep you’ve fallen into your spiraling pit of uncertainty, you shake yourself of those thoughts, mindlessly typing in the Hulu login credentials Jungkook texts you.

—

You’re in the student center when Jungkook comes home, laptop and books spread out over a circle table to stop anyone else from coming up to you. You’ve got your headphones in, the background sounds of late 2000’s club music from a Jersey Shore episode drifting through your ears.

A hand suddenly grabs onto your shoulder, and you send nearly half the table’s contents onto the floor when you screech, leg blindly kicking the table. “Woah, woah,” Jungkook calms, pulling out an earbud for you, and the sight of his face makes you relax again, before you’re striking his chest.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you warn, shooting daggers at him as he pulls a chair close to you, plopping down beside you. Jungkook laughs, kisses your temple.

“You doing okay, beautiful?” He inquires, and your heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle from your fright, lurches at the hooded gaze he sends you.

You nod, unconsciously lean closer to him. Jungkook smiles, cheeks pulled tight when you plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Glad to hear it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

You never thought you’d be one of those people. Y’know, the couple shoving PDA down everyone’s throats in a very crowded place. But you can’t help it with Jungkook, gaze honed in on the mole beneath his lip as he recounts his trip to his family’s place. His hair is fluffy again, parted a little to the side to show his forehead. He’s got that big dark hoodie on, the one you love. Your love-addled brain thinks, I could give you a family, but you quickly shut that thought down.

There was no need to think as much for a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Before you can spiral, there’s a set of fingers brushing over your neck, almost casually. You return your attention to Jungkook, watch him leisurely gaze over the bustling students around you. “Missed you,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Hell, if your eyes hadn’t been trained on his face, you don’t think you would’ve.

Finally, he glances back at you. He says nothing, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. He leans forward, presses a smooch to your lips, only to smile at you afterward. “Come over?”

The difference between you and Jungkook is that you were very obviously, outwardly evil. You were not embarrassed to admit you were scheming, or that you had ulterior motives behind doing something. You used what you had to your advantage, mastered all types of expressions to get what you wanted.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was a subtle schemer. In fact, he was so goddamn subtle, you doubt he even knew he was a schemer.

But he definitely was one, and your experiences with him were enough to convince you so. There were times he’d stare at you longingly, like a puppy, until you’d do something for him. Times he’d use his demure face to lure you into going to the hardware store for him, into watching some boring documentary with him. Times, like now, where his voice was a little too smooth and low to be considered his normal pitch, clouded gaze sweeping over your features until you understood what he meant by come over.

Numbly, you nod, watch the quirk of his lips as he kisses you once more before gathering your things for you.

The car ride passes by in a flash, Jungkook’s hand on your knee, your head in the clouds. You imagine how easy it would be to just lean over right here, tug him out of his sweats and get that super suck 5000 on him. But Jungkook’s shy, the devil on your shoulder croons, he’d like it better in the backseat, where no one can see.

Your bag hasn’t even touched the floor yet when he pushes you against the door of his house, shoes and coats half off as he envelopes your lips with his.

His hands are warm, cupping your neck to guide you through the kiss, blindly pulling you down the hall. You feel him falter by the stairs, torn between just throwing you on the couch and ravishing you there or making the trip upstairs to the comfort of his bed. You reach up, run your fingers through his hair. “Wherever you want, baby,” you reassure him, and become consumed with glee when his hands grab into the backs of your thighs, hitch you into his arms as he rushes the two of you up the stairs.

The bed is as fluffy as you remember it, and you bounce up towards the pillows after he drops you on the end. He tugs his shirt over his head, chocolate strands coming out a mess afterwards, before crawling up your body. Jungkook’s hands are incessant, grabbing onto every inch of you he possibly can. He kisses up your tummy, pushing your shirt up as he goes, hikes it over the swell of your breasts to gently fondle them in his palms.

When he’s just about suffocated himself between them, he pops back out, catches your gaze with a twinkle in his. “Hi,” you squeak, and Jungkook grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he returns, let’s your tongue slide into his mouth, sucks on the appendage teasingly. You whimper, and Jungkook releases. “You miss me?” He asks, and if you hadn’t been well-versed in the art of Jungkook’s sexy talk, you wouldn’t have noticed the tingle of nervousness that curls around the question.

You placate him, “always.”

It’s all Jungkook needs as he wiggles you out of your clothes, shucks them off somewhere to the side. His hands trail over your body, massage your breasts and pinch the nipples. You sigh, melt into the sheets as he runs his palms over you. He rolls you over, pulls your hips up and carefully pushes your face into the mattress, pushing your hair to the side to peck your neck when he leans over.

“So soft for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands slithering around your waist, down your abdomen until the tip of his pointer finger is idly swirling over your clit.

You whine, clutch the comforter beneath you at the touch. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, push your hips back against him. He’s still got his sweats on, and you want desperately to turn around and rip them off of him, feel the press of his cock against your ass.

As if sensing your urgency, Jungkook calms you with kisses trailing over your spine, hot breath fanning over your neck. His fingers slow, just barely grazing over your clit. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asks, and you struggle to choke out a response when he presses his finger down against you.

“No,” you eventually gasp, jolt when his hand reaches down, glides through the swollen folds of your cunt.

As if content with your response, Jungkook lets his fingers caress you for a few beats, laps against the side of your neck as you whimper, beg him to continue. When he does, it’s with no ounce of his usual gentle attitude, two fingers shoving forcefully past the tight clench of your pussy lips, deep into your cunt. You shudder, gasping into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, flutters a kiss right below your ear. Your neurons are working overtime, unsure of what to do as he explores your cunt, fingers dragging against your walls. You want to close your eyes, bask in his touches, but every brush of his fingers has them rolling back, fluttering open. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”

His fingers curl, briefly brushing over your soft spot. But it’s enough to make you cry out, pant against the sheets. “Yours,” you choke, push back against him like he’ll do it again.

A thumb circles your clit, and the tight feeling in your belly snaps, has you crying out his name as your first orgasm in a few days washes over you. “Jungkook,” you whimper, nearly sob when his hands pull away, letting you flop down onto the mattress in a boneless heap. Your thighs feel sticky, and you watch blearily as Jungkook hovers behind you.

“So quickly?” He chuckles, turning you back over. He spreads your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room, and you shiver. A lone finger drags over your cunt, collecting the glossy substance on the tip, before Jungkook is sucking it into his mouth.

He had an affinity for this kind of stuff, you’ve learned. Like he genuinely thought your cum was the most delicious thing in the entire world. That being said, you’re not surprised when he ducks down, pushes your legs to your chest as he begins devouring your pussy.

“Slow down,” you gasp, hand curling in his hair as he spares you not, sensitivity be damned. He was gonna lick you clean. He groans, tongue shoved into your cunt, cute nose brushing against your clit. “Kook,” you warn, though it’s more of a shuddered cry. “I-I’ll come again.”

He pulls off with a wet smack, licks over his tongue as he narrows you with a daring glare. Gone was your sweet Jungkook, replaced with this cum-eating heathen who only purrs, “in my mouth” at your warning.

You scream when the second orgasm hits you, pushing his face against your cunt as his tongue continues, lapping at your folds and your hole as a gush of wetness spurts out of you. For a second, your vision pales, soundless cries caught in your throat as you come all over his face. When you touch down on earth again, your body feels featherlight.

Jungkook is watching you from between your thighs, his face, hair, and chest glistening. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, shit-eating grin slowly consuming his features. “Did you just.”

You groan, cover your face with your palms as Jungkook settles over you, beaming excitedly at your newest ability. “No,” you whine, pushing him away from where he’s basically glued to your cheek. “That’s so weird.”

He laughs, cute and airy. “Fuck, sweetheart, you squirted all over me,” he sighs, cuddles against you, and you wrap your arms around him only to hide your face in his shoulder, also glistening with your pleasure. He shifts closer, and the hard press of his cock rubs along the inside of your thigh.

“Can we take a break?” You murmur quietly, hesitantly. “I can’t feel my legs.” Jungkook nods, presses a kiss to your temple as he gets off the bed, tossing his t-shirt over to you. He stumbles towards the en-suite, comes back with a dry face and chest; his hair is still damp. He tugs the sheets out from under you, cuddles close. He’s got the two of you wrapped up in no time, your head cradled against his shoulder as he reaches out blindly for the tablet he keeps on the side of his bed, the Hulu app already open.

“Any requests?” He hums, scrolling through the multitude of movies and shows. You wiggle closer, stop his finger when he returns to the home page, and Jersey Shore is the first thing to appear. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s a good show!” You defend, click on it before he can argue. You press closer, throw a leg over his waist where you can feel his still rock hard member hiding beneath his sweats. Poor guy, you think, he must be suffering. But you have to rest for a moment if you wanna ride the shit out of him and knock him breathless like you’d planned.

Jungkook doesn’t comment on the erection he’s sporting, instead choosing to criticize everything wrong with Jersey Shore. You’re not surprised. He’s an avid film nerd, obsessed with ‘real’ storylines, not whatever reality tv shows were.

You’ve seen this episode about a hundred times, so you don’t really mind that he completely ruins it for you with his nitpicking. It’s cute, listening to him ramble about television integrity while you listen to the subtle thudding of his heart beneath your ear.

He’s on his fifth slandering of DJ Pauly D when you decide you’ve had enough, muscles in your legs feeling rejuvenated as you wiggle into his lap, toss the tablet off to the side as you straddle him. “That show makes you hard?” You tease, let your sensitive folds settle over the bulge in his pants.

Jungkook combusts, cheeks flushing at your jab. “No,” he huffs, “my pretty girlfriend’s boobs pressed up against me does.”

You short circuit.

“Huh?” You blurt dumbly. Jungkook rolls his eyes, too concerned with guiding your hips over his crotch to realize you’re having a complete meltdown in your head. An airy moan leaves his mouth, head lolling back against the pillows, when he moves you just right, grinds against you perfectly. But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. “Kook,” you say, cup his face in your palms to force him to look you in the eye.

Jungkook huffs, pointedly looking down at where you sit on him, “babe, gonna need you to—“

“What did you say?” You interrogate, press your foreheads together until he has no choice but to look at you.

Annoyed with your act, he groans. “Babe, your hips,” he urges, almost desperately.

“No,” you retort, “not until you say it again.”

“Say what again?” He cries, lips twitching in irritation, and you’re about two seconds from behind shoved into the mattress, pounded into from behind like he’d done the last time you teased him a little too much.

“That I’m your girlfriend!” You exclaim, heart hammering in your ears.

Jungkook seems to finally halt at that. “Oh,” he responds, leaning back to scan over your expression. “You are?” He says, unsure of what point you’re trying to make.

Your brain fizzes at the news. “Since when?” You cry, suddenly feeling dumb for all the time you spent moping over this perfect boy you thought didn’t want you. “You never asked!”

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed stare, reaches over for the iPad you tossed to the side, some dramatic fight scene on a boardwalk taking place on screen. You wanna scream. Why is he so concerned with Jersey Shore now of all times?

Before you can rain down your displeasure on him, he’s turning it around and showing you a bookmarked email.

It’s from you, apparently, sent a few weeks back at exactly two in the morning. You glance at the date received. It’s from Doyeon’s half birthday, when the two of you had drunk yourselves silly on wine. The title is some mix of dashes and exclamation points, but that’s irrelevant when the contents of the email come to view, some stupid slur of beeee myyy boyfrienderdd????? ;))((;;; that has your jaw dropping in mortification.

You glance back at Jungkook, who seems just as confused as you. “What the hell?” You shriek, snatch the tablet from his hand to see that not only was it a single email, but a thread of emails all asking the same question—there’s even a three stanza sonnet detailing your love for the mole on the side of his neck. You could die. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?! I was so drunk— how could you even take me seriously?”

Jungkook shrugs, almost amused now as he watches you scroll through the twenty emails you sent him. “The next day you told me you really liked me over lunch, so I didn’t mind. Besides, drunk words are sober thoughts, y’know.”

You stare in disbelief. “You told your mom I was your friend,” you whisper.

The blood rises to his cheeks quickly. “Babe,” he sputters. “I’m not exactly introducing her to every girl I date after three weeks.”

It makes sense, and you hate how much it does so. Pursing your lips, you look away, focus on the bedside table and hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to spew out of your eyes. He does, he always does. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hums, sits up to pull you into his arms. One hand brushes over the back of your head, gently. Softly. “Did that upset you?”

You shake your head no, can’t help the ugly Kim Kardashian sob that rips itself from your throat. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you sniffle, covering your face with the iPad when he tries to duck closer and get a look at you. “Because it’s been two months.”

Jungkook shushes you, hugs you close to his chest as you cry like a baby over some apparently unjustifiable doubts. “That big brain of yours,” he sighs, kisses the frown of your head. “Too busy being evil to be logical.” You whine in protest, and Jungkook chuckles, carefully laying back with you clinging to his chest.

He lets you cry it out, palms rubbing over your back, listens to the annoying Jersey Shore opening song playing when the episode ends. When you’re done, you sit up, try to pretend your eyes aren’t swollen and puffy. Jungkook smiles. “All good?”

You might love him.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you announce, and he chokes in surprise, and before he can try to convince you it’s okay, you’re wrestling his sweats and boxers off, taking his half hard cock into your hand. Jungkook flounders, tries to calm you down, but you’re on a mission, working your hand over him until he’s fattening in your hold, melting into the pillows.

“Baby,” he grunts, rolling his hips into your palm. You lean over, pucker your lips and let a thick drop of saliva fall onto the tip of his cock. It trickles over your fingers, makes it easier to run your hands over him. Jungkook groans, reaches down to cup his hand over yours, urging you to squeeze tighter.

When he’s finally as hard as you want him, tip engorged and angry, you sit up, place your palms on his chest as you scoot over him. Jungkook watches you with dark eyes, skin flushed as you line him up. His hands reach for your hips to steady you, tiny gasps falling from his lips at the first prod against your folds. You’re wet from watching him squirm beneath you, from feeling the heavy weight of his cock in your hand, and you hope he feels how much he excites you.

“That’s it,” he croons as you slowly sink down on him, whimpers catching in your throat from the stretch. “That’s my girl.”

Jungkook is purposeful with his words, smiles at you when the muscles in your thighs jolt at the term. When you’re seated to the hilt, folds brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook ruts experimentally. “Fuck,” he chokes breathlessly.

You let your body adjust, spine tingling with every subtle shift from the man beneath you, still so sensitive from your two orgasms from before. Jungkook waits, even though you know all he wants to do right now is fuck up into you like a madman.

When you’re relaxed enough, you begin to move, pushing yourself on your knees slowly, hissing at the drag of his cock against your folds. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, fingernails scratching against where you’ve got them on his chest still. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, and you unconsciously reach for his forearms to steady yourself instead.

“There you go,” he purrs as you slowly pick up the pace, cock sliding inside of you rougher, faster. You know it’s mostly him, muscles in his arms flexing as he moves you up and down, but you don’t care—it feels so good, the upward curve of his cock brushing against your soft spot with each drop of your hips.

He holds you down on one thrust, grinds you over his cock until your clit is rubbing against him roughly, and you cry out his name. You want to kiss him, so very badly, but your position makes it hard. Besides, the sweat beginning to pool in the deep of his collarbones hinted at his oncoming orgasm.

Still, you can’t help the way your eyes instinctively go to trace over his mouth, pouty lips pushed out even more in exertion, teeth grinding together every time your pussy swallows him anew. “Kook,” you mewl, hips bucking forward.

He hums, plants his feet firmly on the mattress as he begins fucking into you. “What is it?” He grunts, pistons into your dripping cunt as you whimper, pleasure crawling up and down your spine. “My pretty girl needs something?”

You wail, nod your head as he continues fucking, ramming his cock into your quivering hole, precum dripping over him. “Yours,” you gasp, mind stuck on what he’d said earlier. “‘M all yours,” you sob, body finally giving out, and you barely catch yourself from falling into him with a palm pressed flatly against his chest.

Jungkook smirks, bucks into you brutally, like he wants you to fall into a boneless heap on top of him. “Yeah, you are,” he groans, as you finally give in, lips brushing against his ear when you flop down on him. “My pretty girl,” he huffs, and you nod, muscles pulled taut as your orgasm begins looming over you. “So cute and mean,” he rambles, lips pressed to your temple. His hips are beginning to lose their rhythm, thrusts growing stilted as he chases his high. “But you know what?” He murmurs, and you whimper. “I like her just like that.”

If his words don’t knock the air out of your lungs, your orgasm surely does. It makes you shudder, the way his hands run over your body, cock ruts into your heat, and you almost cry when the pleasure gets a hold of you. Your muscles tighten, and then loosen, melting into his chest. You’re trembling in his arms, like a leaf holding onto a branch for dear life, choked gasps of his name muffled against his neck.

Jungkook pistons into you, rounds the final corner in his race to orgasm, and eventually spurts his hot cum into you, coats your walls as another reminder that you’re his. He’s a silent orgasmer, sounds catching in his throat as his body twitches beneath you, silent even afterwards as he regains his senses.

A few moments later, you’re shifting out of his hold, pushing yourself onto your elbows to glance down at him. Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but, as if sensing you’re looking at him, he flutters them open, chocolate irises softening at the sight of you.

“Holy shit,” he groans, rolls you off of him carefully. His hand brushes over your thigh, like he’s contemplating licking you clean again, but you stop him with a pointed raise of your brows. “Fine. Pass me the tablet.”

You do, and it’s almost unnerving how easily the two of you slip back into comfort, Jungkook changing into some shorts and handing you your discarded panties, before climbing into bed to watch Jersey Shore. You’ve missed about an entire hour-long episode, so you end up rewinding until the point you last saw.

“You and your Netflix and chilling,” Jungkook snorts, head nestled against your breasts. You roll your eyes.

“This is Hulu,” you point out.

“Oh yeah,” he hums, snuggles closer. His body feels so nice and warm over yours, hands wrapped around you like a lifeline. You end up positioning the tablet off by your hip, supported by a pillow so the two of you can watch properly.

You’re still processing your new title, your new boyfriend, when he perks his head up suddenly, solemn gaze catching yours.

“Hulu and Woohoo,” he says, ever so seriously, and you understand why Doyeon thinks he’s a fool.

[ part three ; imax & climax ]

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #mine

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nerdzzone · 4 years ago

Text

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: I’ve decided to make this five parts instead of four. I was originally going to combine this part and the next one, but I feel like it flows better with a bit of separation between them!

Part One

____

Part Two

The rest of our first afternoon together was spent lazing around. Grayson was tired, but continued to refuse his nap so we kept things low key to avoid any exhausted toddler meltdowns. By the time the evening rolled around, I was tired from the stress of the day myself and since I still had to unpack, I went up to my bedroom shortly after we'd tucked Grayson into bed.

I slept a lot better than I thought I would given everything that was on my mind and when I woke up, I could already hear the sounds of breakfast echoing up from the kitchen. Taking a few minutes to let myself wake up properly, I checked my phone and scrolled through social media before getting up, stretching and heading downstairs.

"Good morning," I smiled, finding Chris and Grayson sitting at the island eating some scrambled eggs while Scott leaned against the counter with a cereal bowl in his hands.

"G'morning, Mama!"

Grayson's greeting was said through a mouthful of food and Chris reminded him that wasn't polite before greeting me himself.

"Help yourself to whatever you want," he insisted. "There's some eggs left in the pan or cereal, whatever you can find. Maybe Grayson will even share his apple slices with you if you ask nicely."

Grayson gasped at that suggestion and frantically shook his head.

"No, Daddy!" He protested. "I don't want to share!"

I laughed as he reached over his plate to move the little bowl of sliced fruit closer to his body where he could keep it guarded.

"Not even one slice?" I asked. "But I'm so hungry!"

"Over there!" Grayson giggled, pointing at the counter.

I turned around and saw a few more apples in a bowl, making me smile as I turned back to the boys.

"But they're not nicely sliced like yours," I pointed out. "How can I eat those?"

Grayson shrugged and plucked one of his apples out of his bowl. He looked smug, thinking he'd won, but he was so distracted while he took a bite that he didn't see Chris' hand sneak over until he'd snatched one of the slices and tossed it to me.

"Catch!"

I did as Chris instructed and Grayson's jaw dropped. An indignant huff fell from his lips as he looked between the two of us.

"That's not nice."

Chris laughed, but I bit back a smile and returned his apple.

"You're right, baby," I agreed, kissing the top of your head. "That was mean, but we were just tricking you. You don't have to share your apple."

"Thanks, Mama."

The frown on his face turned back into a grin and I scraped the rest of the eggs that were in the pan on the stove onto a plate before turning back to the boys once I’d pulled a fork from the drawer.

"So, how do you want to work it with things like groceries while I'm here?"

"Just tell me what you want and I'll order it," Chris told me. "They've started doing curbside pick up pretty much everywhere so I was thinking I'd just do that."

"Oh, that's handy, but I meant like money wise. Should I just transfer you my share or do you want to alternate who pays?"

Chris stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to figure out if I was joking before he chuckled.

"I'm not taking any money from you, Whitney."

His voice was firm, but I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What? Why not? I can't let you pay for everything."

"You're not still working, are you?" Scott asked. "Or is it different since, as a photographer, you're so far away from whoever you're taking pictures of?"

"I'm not working," I admitted. "I think it would be doable if it was, like, family portraits or something like that, but the big photo shoots involve too many people. Everyone cancelled on me last week or delayed my contracts until at least the summer."

"So, don't worry about paying for anything then," Chris shrugged. "It's not like you're going to eat that much, I think I can handle the cost."

He was trying to do a nice thing. He was a very generous person with those that he cared about, but I wasn't going to take advantage of him.

"I have savings, Chris," I insisted. "I'm not completely helpless."

As if sensing a rising tension, Scott put his bowl in the sink and grabbed his coffee mug before turning to Grayson.

"Hey, Gray, let's go see what cartoons we can find."

Grayson nodded eagerly and Chris helped him down from the tall stool so he could follow Scott out of the room, taking his little bowl of apples with him.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you're helpless," Chris assured me once they were out of earshot. "But you're tiny, I don't think that buying you a few groceries for the next couple of months will financially cripple me."

I tried to temper my defensiveness before I answered him, reminding myself again that he was trying to be helpful.

"I know that, but I don't feel comfortable living here for that long without contributing," I told him. "You already give me more than you need to every month for Grayson."

It was true. Since our custody agreement was that Grayson spent fifty percent of his time with each of us, he wasn't required to pay me any child support. But he did anyway. It was something we’d argued about on and off over the years because the amount that he gave me was way over the top. I appreciated his generosity and I did use all the money to buy things for Gray, but most of it ended up in a bank account that I'd opened for him because there was no way to spend it all in one month without Grayson becoming the most spoiled child in all of Massachusetts.

"I like to make sure he's taken care of."

"Which I am capable of doing with my own money when he's in my care," I reminded him. "But I don't want to start that whole conversation again. I just want to feel like I'm doing my part while I stay with you."

"And I appreciate that gesture, but it won't be necessary," Chris insisted. "You can clean, you can cook, do anything like that to help out, but I won't accept any money, especially while you're not working."

I sighed as he stood up to put his plate in the dishwasher while I put mine on the counter, too distracted by our conversation to eat. I knew it would be a struggle to get him to agree to take money from me, but I wasn't ready to back down so I thought of a compromise and hoped he would accept.

"How about we drop it for now," I suggested. "But if this thing goes on for more than a couple of weeks, can we talk about it again?"

Chris paused and crossed his arms. I could tell that he wanted to argue, but I was relieved when he agreed.

"Alright," he nodded, hesitating for a moment before adding a stipulation to the deal. "But we're going to talk about your car too before you leave here."

"My car? What about my car?"

"Grayson told me that it's not working properly," Chris admitted. "He said it sounds angry sometimes and that you haven't gotten it checked out yet."

I rolled my eyes, guessing that was one of those 'secrets' that he mentioned.

"It's fine," I assured him. "It made a weird sound one time last week when I tried to start it, but it's still working. I was going to take it in, but then all this virus stuff happened and I didn't have chance."

"You need a new one," Chris informed me. "That one is getting old anyway. I'll take you car shopping when things reopen."

I laughed at the absurdity of that statement, but I could see the annoyance on his face at my reaction.

"You're not buying me a car, Chris. The one I have is perfectly fine and if it's not then I will take myself car shopping, thank you very much."

"Why do you get so defensive when I try to help you?" He asked, his eyes shifting into a glare. "I'm not going to accidentally think that you're in love with me just because you accept a nice gesture from me. I can take a hint, Whitney, I get it."

My jaw dropped and I couldn't hold back a disgruntled scoff at his insane change of topic.

"What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with that," I argued. "I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation if I knew you were going to hold that over me and throw it in my face all the time."

“All the time? This is the first time I’ve mentioned it!”

“Yes, but I’ve not even been here for twenty-fours hours and you’ve already brought it up!”

Perhaps it was my harsh, snappy tone that did it or my very valid criticism of his low blow, but Chris' body language softened.

"I just don't get why you get so worked up when I'm trying to help you..."

"Because I don't need help, Chris," I explained. "I might not be Captain America rich, but I do just fine and I can take care of myself. I can buy my own groceries and if I really needed to, I could buy myself a new car. You throwing money at me for things like that makes me feel like you don't value the success I've had in my career or my ability to manage my finances which is, quite frankly, offensive."

Chris dropped his arms so they were no longer crossed and his shoulders relaxed. Clearly, he'd been getting quite defensive as well and had realized it, whether he would admit it or not. I held my head high, proud of myself for explaining my feelings so well and taking him down a notch, but that feeling disappeared as soon as Chris spoke.

"If you were the richest woman in the world, I would still want to buy you a car," Chris started, looking more nervous than the dismissive, self-assured attitude I was getting moments ago. "I'd still want to buy you anything you could ever need because making you happy makes me happy."

My face fell at his confession and my heart clenched again, knowing what the underlying sentiment behind his statement was. It stung more than any hurtful words could have as the sincerity, the genuine care and appreciation, in his voice was heartbreaking. I regretted not adding a condition to our cohabitation that specified he wasn't allowed to say such nice, guilt inducing things as I stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation that was more polite than just bolting out the door.

Too much time was passing as his words hung between us so, short of any good comeback to his words, I shrugged.

"If you want to make me happy, let me contribute for the groceries."

It was Chris' turn to look shocked now, as he was obviously expecting a more thoughtful response to his rather vulnerable admission, but he pulled himself together quickly and a dry laugh fell from his lips.

"Nice try, Whitney," he smiled, shaking his head. "But that's not going to happen."

Without giving me any more time to argue, he turned on his heels and walked out the door leaving me alone to wallow in my guilt and wonder how much longer I'd be able to keep up my act of nonchalance.

There was a weird sense of restlessness in the house that day. Usually, killing a few days at home would be no big deal but, as soon as the stay at home orders came into place that morning, the knowledge that we were now unable to do anything else made it feel slightly more suffocating.

Chris wasn't lying though when he said that he planned to make this lockdown as enjoyable as possible so we managed to keep ourselves entertained as we planned out some of the things we could do. Chris and Scott were compiling a list of old movies they wanted to watch again, I ordered a bunch of puzzles and books (some more child appropriate and some for the adults), Chris dug out an old wiffle ball set he had from when they were kids and Scott organized Chris' video game collection, pulling out all the good ones like their favourite: Mario Kart.

By the end of the day, we were all feeling much more optimistic about how our time at home would go. Especially Grayson. It was finally starting to sink in for him that he got to spend the foreseeable future surrounded by all his favourite people - something that was unfortunately a rarity for him given our situation. He was bouncing off the walls as he threw his ideas into the mix and couldn't wait to get started on all the fun.

The excitement of the day led to another early night for him and I excused myself shortly after, declining the invitation to start practicing my Mario Kart skills.

After our conversation that morning, I was trying to keep a bit of distance from Chris. I wasn't mad and it didn't seem like he had any lasting feelings of annoyance either, but our earlier discussion proved to me that there was still tension and resentment between us. I wanted to let it settle and give him some space so our small disagreement didn't turn into a full-blown argument. Living together after everything we'd been through would be an adjustment period and easing into it would probably be the safest route.

So, I took myself off to my bedroom and lounged in bed watching some new mystery show on Netflix. I started it thinking it would just be a good way to pass a few hours until a reasonable time to go to bed but as usual with Netflix, I got sucked in and before I knew it, it was almost midnight.

I closed my laptop, knowing I needed to get some sleep as Grayson was an early riser, but I noticed the glass of water I'd taken upstairs with me hours ago was empty and my mouth was dry. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, taking the glass to the kitchen to fill it up.

I crept down the stairs, assuming everyone would be in bed already, but I was surprised when I got to the kitchen to see the light on. I poked my head into the room and saw Scott sitting at the little island in the middle of the room, a drink in his hand and a melancholy look on his face.

"Hey," I greeted him, alerting him to my presence. "You're up late..."

"I was just FaceTiming with my boyfriend. He's in LA so it worked with the time difference."

"Boyfriend?" I questioned as I headed over to the sink to fill up my glass. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"It's pretty new," he sighed. "We've only been together about a month now."

"That's so exciting! You didn't want to stay in LA and quarantine with him?"

"No, we thought it was too fresh for us to, like, fully move in together and if I was in LA and not living with him then we wouldn't see each other anyway, so I decided I may as well come here."

"That's really hard," I frowned as I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. "I'm sorry that you had to make a decision like that."

"It's alright," he shrugged despite the sad look on his face. "A lot of people have had to make much tougher decisions than that lately."

"That doesn't mean you can't be upset anyway."

"I know, but I'll be alright. I'm just glad we've got so many ways to stay in touch." He flashed me a smile and I was glad to see it. Scott was a good guy and one of those people who was usually so positive and upbeat that it was hard to see him feeling down. "What about you? How are you doing with everything?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sighed. "Do you mean the deadly virus plaguing the world? Or the fact that I'm in lockdown with the father of my child who I have a fairly complicated history with?"

"Both," Scott chuckled as he sipped his drink of what looked to be whiskey. "But I was more referring to being here in lockdown with Chris."

"It's hard, but I'm doing okay. It's just a weird situation."

"It'll definitely take some time to get used to for both of you," he nodded. "He felt really bad this morning. He told me what you said about how offensive it is when he throws money at you all the time and I totally agree, but I hope you know his heart was in the right place. He tells everyone how talented you are, he would never want to belittle your career."

"I know," I winced. "I overreacted a little bit."

"No, not at all!" Scott assured me. "He needed to hear it. I've been on the receiving end of it too so I know how you felt, but he doesn't realize how it comes off some times. He's just trying to be generous and help the people he loves."

I nodded and I knew that I should just end the conversation there. Tell him that I understood what Chris' intent was and leave it at that. But my heart overpowered my brain and I found myself opening up before I could stop myself.

"I just don't exactly deserve to be on that list," I reminded him. "And I shouldn't take advantage of any feelings he might have for me after the decision that I made."

"You really do deserve to be on that list," he told me with a smile. "He's really in love with you."

"Love might be a bit extreme," I scoffed. "He's made his feelings clear, I know he cares about me, but it's not love."

"He's not made his feelings clear enough then," Scott countered. "Because he's been head over heels in love with you since pretty much the moment he met you."

My mouth went dry as my brain fought to comprehend that claim while all my instincts were telling me that it wasn't true. Scott wouldn't lie to me, he wasn't that kind of person, but he could be exaggerating especially since he had been drinking. There was an honesty in his eyes though, a look that told me he was telling the truth, but I couldn't accept it, it just didn't make sense.

"That's not true," I argued. "He only ever saw me as a friend until that one night and that night was a mistake."

But Scott was confident in what he'd shared and he shook his head.

"He never saw you as just a friend. You were his endgame from day one."

Perhaps it was a delaying tactic, perhaps it was a nervous response or I was subconsciously trying to buy myself some time to make sense of what he was trying to tell me, but a giggle slipped out at Scott's choice of words.

"Endgame? Is that an Avengers joke?"

"It wasn't intentional," he assured me with a laugh, but he was quick to get us back on topic. "But I mean it. We had a conversation just a few weeks after you met and he was talking about you like you hung the moon. He's been enamoured from the start."

I couldn't wrap my head around it. He was speaking with such confidence, but the words he was saying might as well have been another language. Knowing what I knew about our situation, how things had unfolded between us, how that first night together went down and the aftermath of it, there was no sign that Chris had been in love with me. He cared about me, that much I knew, but to be in love? That didn't add up.

Especially when I'd had those feelings all along as well. Surely, I would have noticed had they been reciprocated.

I'd fallen silent as my brain buzzed, scrambling for any gesture or obvious evidence that I'd missed that might prove Scott's claim, but when he spoke again, I was pulled from my thoughts.

"Do you not feel the same way about him?" He asked. "And there's no judgment here, I can see both sides. I love Chris and I want him to be happy, but I respect what you're trying to do."

I felt my heart rate spike again as my palms grew sweaty in a way that was becoming annoyingly familiar.

I was aware of the importance of this conversation, but I was also aware that I wasn't having it with the right person. If Scott was being honest then Chris must have had his reasons for not sharing the depth of his feelings with me and it felt sneaky and deceitful that I was finding out from someone else. It also felt wrong that the answer to Scott's question was on the tip of my tongue. Chris deserved to know before his brother, but I was tired. Fighting through this mess all by myself was wearing me down and Scott had always been one of those people that compelled you to pour your heart out to him. He was a better listener than most and I needed someone, anyone, to give me some kind of guidance. So the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I do feel the same," I admitted, my eyes firmly locked on the glass of water on the table in front of me as I worried I'd be too anxious to speak if I looked Scott in the eye. "I love him very much."

"Then why are you so scared to give him a chance?" He questioned. "Just because of Grayson?"

I nodded, but even I was starting to doubt my own motivations.

"We work together so well right now, but if we give it a shot and someone ends up getting hurt then we might not be able to put our feelings aside and keep things peaceful."

"But aren't you hurting each other every day that you spend in love with each other, but not together?" He pointed out. "Yet, you manage to put Grayson first through all that pain."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.

It was an excellent point.

We were both hurting from being apart, it was clear from how defensive we got over silly little things like we had that morning. I could only imagine how Chris felt, but it was hard for me to be around him all the time and just keep things friendly when in my heart I wanted more. I ached at the sight of him every time I dropped Grayson off or picked him up, but we still managed to be friendly and polite through that.

"How many of those drinks have you had?” I teased earning a laugh from Scott. “They’ve made you too wise.”

"Not enough," he joked. "But it's true, isn't it?"

"It is true, but it's different," I insisted. "If we were together and broke up, that kind of hurt can come with a lot of anger. Right now, we might be sad or disappointed about the situation, but there's no anger."

"Oh, there was anger," Scott informed me, grimacing slightly. "After Christmas, when he came back from dropping Grayson off at your house there was definitely anger. He slammed doors, stormed around the house, got drunk off his ass and ranted about it for hours. I've never seen him that upset over being turned down before."

My heart sank at that news. I knew that he'd been upset, but I didn't think he'd taken it that badly. I thought he was just a bit sulky, but now my guilt intensified.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "I feel bad enough as it is..."

"Oh, honey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Scott assured me, reaching over to rub my back as I forced back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "But it proves that even if one of you ends up heartbroken, you can still put Grayson first because you just did it."

"I didn't, Chris did," I pointed out after clearing my throat. "If it wasn't up to me, if Chris came to his senses and ditched me for some beautiful actress, then I'm not sure that I could be so forgiving."

"Why would he ditch you?"

As promised, there was no judgment in Scott's voice, just genuine curiosity and I shrugged as I answered.

"Because he could have any woman in America."

"Maybe not any woman, let's not get carried away," Scott smirked, his teasing tone making me smile. "But for such a relationship loving guy, don't you think it's interesting that he hasn't been in a serious relationship in about five years?"

That wasn't something I'd put much thought into, but it wasn't the 'gotcha' moment that it seemed like Scott had hoped it was.

"Not really. He's been busy with work the last few years," I pointed out. "And having a baby with me must have complicated his personal life a bit."

"You complicated his personal life the moment he met you," Scott insisted. "That's my point."

He sounded so sure of himself, but the words he was saying were still hard for me to comprehend. I'd always been so confident in my understanding of our relationship and if I was to believe him, it would shatter everything I thought I knew.

"I just don't see why he wouldn't have mentioned this by now..."

"You know how he gets with his anxiety. He's not always the over confident hotshot that people assume he is," Scott reminded me. "But you'll have to talk to him if you want more information than that."

I let out a sigh as I knew he was right.

"There's a lot that we need to talk about," I admitted. "Thank you for this though, Scott, you've given me a lot to think about."

"Anytime," he smiled. "And I completely respect that you're willing to put Grayson first despite whatever feelings you have. You're a wonderful mom and I would be proud to call you my sister-in-law."

I laughed at his outrageous leap from even considering a relationship straight to marriage and shook my head.

"You need to go to bed, Scott," I instructed. "You've clearly had too much to drink tonight."

"I probably have," he agreed. "But I meant everything that I've said. Think about it, okay?"

I nodded as I slid off the stool I was sitting on, wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug.

"I'm here for you too, you know that right?" I asked as I stepped back. "If you ever want to talk about your situation or vent and complain about the distance, whatever you need, I'm here."

"Thanks, Whitney," he smiled before dragging himself off his stool as well. "Goodnight."

I returned his smile and mumbled a 'goodnight' of my own before heading back to bed with all the new information that Scott had provided echoing around in my head. While it had been a very informative conversation, I wasn't quite sure whether I came away from it with the clarity I was looking for or just more confusion.

Part Three

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #more hearts than mine

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mack3030 · 4 years ago

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Types of Paywall Abuse --- A post...

I think it’s time to tackle a topic that might make a few simmers uncomfortable, but we need to talk about it, because in addition to seeing a lot of people complain about it in general, I’ve also been getting some anons in my inbox talking about it. So let’s discuss this.

Now, first of all, I would like to clarify a couple of things:

When I speak of PAYWALLS here, I am talking about custom content that can ONLY be accessed by paying, or viewing an ad through a virus filled ad shortener link (which is just as bad). Pure early access content, where you pay for it and get it earlier than everyone else who gets it for free IS NOT PAYWALLED CONTENT.

This is why it is called a pay “WALL” because the wall portion indicates that you cannot access it without paying a fee/toll.

Second of all, I would like to remind the public at large that this is not hate, it is a critical commentary. I am not going to go for these creators personally, nor do I want to. I, as a member of the community who plays the sims 4, and downloads/uses CC, would like to simply hold some of these creators accountable for actions that are unethical and unsatisfactory to the community in which they serve. That is it. No more, no less. I simply believe they CAN do better and BE better than this.

Now, let’s get into the meat of this.

The main type of abuse that I have focused on has been what I call Permapaywalls.

Permapaywalls:

Content that cannot be accessed ANY other way than either paying a certain amount via patreon or another service, OR viewing a link through a virus-filled ad that puts your computer at risk.

There are many creators who are well known permapaywall creators, with at least 80% or more of their content being locked behind these permapaywalls. Sometimes they may release a few items for free, but this is very similar to being allowed to test drive a car before buying it. It’s to entice the user/viewer into liking the brand, and then buying in.

I’m not going to delve into this too much because I’ve already expounded on this topic a bit. So let’s go further.

The next type of abuse is what I like to call “Exclusive Loopholes”.

Exclusive Loopholes: Creators who try to “get around” EA’s early access policy by offering a majority of their content as early access, but holding back certain items only to those who “subscribe” to their “patreon exclusive” content.

There are some who are okay with this, thinking of this as a neat “bonus” for those who subscribe and support. However, the sims team made it clear:

Folks who have a Patreon page are welcome to provide folks with "early access" incentives for their content but it should be made available to the general public within 2-3 weeks of it being given to folks early.

- Simguru Drake, The Sims Forum

Notice nowhere in this answer does it say anything about BONUS CC incentives. Nowhere. This is just a method that certain creators try to use to keep people from decrying them as “big bad paywall creators”. This way they can say “oh look, we do early access, we’re following EA’s rules~!” while still holding content hostage.

If you want to offer your patreons some exclusives, here’s some ideas: * Share pictures of your process, or work in progress content coming up. * Allow them to have input into your process via polls and questions. * Have an exclusive discord community just for your patreons where they can talk to you easier and share excitement and input about your content with you and each other. * Have exclusive streams where only you and your patreons have the link to see you go live making content. * Host a workshop on how to make CC using your process. (I see all of you who steal meshes from other sites sweating over this. ;D) * Pause billing for a month and say “you know what, since you guys have been loyal and supported me, have a month of patreon on me!” * Anything that honestly doesn’t involve only giving those patreons CC and not releasing it to the public.

Let’s talk about another type, and oh my lanta, this type has had some anons messaging me ALL up in arms. I like to call this type “The Donation Disaster”.

Donation Disaster: Someone who CONSTANTLY uses the “downs” in the up/downs of life as excuses to not release content on time, or delay it while still collecting payment from patreons. Bonus “you’re a jerk” points if they then try to use those misfortunate circumstances to beg for even more money from their patreons on multiple occasions.

Look, we all have junk that goes on in our lives. But when that junk is used as an excuse for you continually delaying content while still charging your patreons (and not using the pause feature), it makes them feel cheated. In addition, when you then ask for donations to help you during your difficult time, and turn to your patreons instead of the support networks that are around you (ex: friends, family, religious communities, etc.), that can be VERY off-putting. You might be able to get away with it once, maybe twice, without a large chunk of your community turning against you. But the more regular it becomes, and the more they hear about how strapped for cash you are and how you’re asking them to give more than their pledge, and you’ll soon find yourself being called a scammer. Regardless of your intent, or if your problems are reality, you’ll find people’s empathy for your situation will be lacking.

I’ve had a few anons in my inbox talking about different patreon creators that always seem to have an excuse for why updates aren’t coming just yet, or why x is broken, and with their excuse comes a plea for help with bills, and a link to a paypal or venmo.

Everyone has junk, don’t get me wrong. And it sucks to go through the junk we have in life, but if you’re reaching out to random people on the internet as your first method of support, you might need to be looking someplace else for support first before you come to the people who are already paying you for content you make. A one time “hey I’m in a bind, I need some help” donation thing might not be a bad thing, but when it becomes a constant pattern on your patreon....people aren’t going to take it well...at all.

And last, but not least, I’d like to talk about the last kind of patreon abuse, which frankly, is really upsetting to me. I don’t even really have a name for it, because it’s literally so much of a “what?” thing in my head. I don’t even understand why it goes on. Now, this practice involves the black/POC community, and frankly, as a white girl, I don’t feel I should be speaking over the community and what they have to say. Thankfully @xmiramira spoke on it, all the way back in 2019. Here’s an excerpt from her fantastic POST:

Even new creators who JUST joined the community sliding up in TBS with locs and braids talking about Patreon only. GTFOH. I’m not okay with creators doing Patreon only CC PERIOD, but my main discussion is focused on NON BLACK simmers making CC catered to US, and making it PATREON EXCLUSIVE IN AN ATTEMPT TO FORCE US TO PLEDGE, and how people are ASSUMING that I’m OKAY WITH THIS, and ASSUMING that I’m letting it FLY in my community. Just because I don’t go off about shit as frequent as I used to doesn’t mean I cannot see and I am not doing what I can to keep the fuckery OUT.“Oh but your friend has a Patreon” I don’t have an issue with what @ebonixsims is doing because it’s all early release. It gets released to the public a few weeks later. It’s not being kept behind Patreon, forcing people to pledge to her. Despite this, she’s still doing really good with it. So don’t get it twisted, I’m not on social media arguing with folks so people just assumed I’m okay with this shit, I’m really not. I’m actually two seconds off dropping Patreon share folders. (That also have my shit in it) Supporting people is one thing, but a lot of these motherfuckers are becoming extremely exploitive, and it’s aggravating. It’s like you goofy motherfuckers sit in DMs like “yeah let’s make some CC for the negros and put it on Patreon” Fuck outta here. And it’s not even just hair, it’s skins and even CLOTHING STYLES. Y’all are really wilding the hell out. African necklaces, black girl magic chains, Juicy Couture sweatsuits. Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling? IM TIRED! Next time someone asks me where I got something and it’s Patreon exclusive I’m dropping a SFS link. FUCK OUTTA HERE!

Here’s the deal. The black community has been fighting for a while to be able to feel represented in this game. Here’s two articles (ONE, TWO) talking about this issue. But the thing that has me upset is the fact that SO many creators of content that is AIMED at Black/POC simmers are locking that content (or a good majority of it) behind paywalls. And what’s even more shameful is some of those creators are POC themselves! They understand what it’s like to feel that they cannot make themselves or have sims that look like them in this game, yet they still lock their content away and expect people not just in the SIMS community, but in the POC community to pay through the nose for it. The fact that this is STILL going on, two freaking years after she made this post, and that both NON POC creators and POC creators are engaging in this behavior is honestly disappointing and shameful. I believe black/POC creators should be supported, BUT they should be supported without depriving their OWN community of representation and access. And frankly, if you’re a NON POC creator and you’re specifically targeting this group to make money off of them with paywalls, I have only one thing to say to you:

I’d speak on it more, but frankly, I’d rather let the people who are actually in the black/POC community speak on it, so if any of you want to let loose in the comments about this problem, go wild. I’m happy to sit back and listen, and I suggest others do the same.

#nopaywalls #sims4 #sims4mm #sims4alpha #support early access creators #stop being a jerk #patreon abuse

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route22ny · 4 years ago

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Survivor stories: Death, loss and selflessness during the pandemic

By Jacqueline Cutler / New York Daily News

Those days when the word corona made you think beer or crown feel like long-gone innocence.

So much happened during these 18 months that how we’re reacting to different phases of the pandemic and how survivors are coping are worth documenting.

“Voices from the Pandemic: Americans Tell Their Stories of Crisis, Courage and Resilience” is a powerful reflection on the last year and a half. Pulitzer-winning journalist Eli Saslow has managed the near-impossible: He makes you want to read more about the pandemic.

This doesn’t bother with maps of where the virus is spiking or death tolls. It can’t be of the moment. Instead, it’s the story of all of us — those who have taken every precaution and those who refused to acknowledge COVID’s deadly path.

Done in the style of the late great Studs Terkel, these are oral histories as the history is happening. Each section has people sharing their stories in their words.

Sure, it’s edited for clarity, but there’s no spin. It’s unfailingly fair: When a tenant recounts her eviction, the next entry is from a landlord who exhausted her savings trying to not evict people.

Even though we think we know the stories of the pandemic, we can’t – at least not all of them. And we never may. Saslow carefully selected a cross-section of people; some who have since died, some who recovered, some who never may.

Saslow reminds us of the first whisperings. On Jan. 4, 2020, there was news about what was considered a pneumonia outbreak in China. Five weeks later, it had a name, COVID-19.

A month later, life as we knew it stopped.

“She’s dead, and I’m quarantined,” Tony Sizemore, of Indianapolis, says of his love, Birdie Shelton, in the first entry from March 2020. “That’s how the story ends. I keep going back over it in loops, trying to find a way to sweeten it, but nothing changes the facts. I wasn’t there with her at the end. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I don’t even know where her body is right now, or if the only thing that’s left is her ashes.”

With that gut-wrenching opening, we’re off. We meet dozens of people we’ve never heard of, which is precisely the point. Everyone knew when Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson were among the first celebrities to get COVID.

But this book introduces Bruce MacGillis, a man in an Ohio nursing home. He refused to let temp workers who couldn’t wear masks correctly get near him and isolated himself until he was vaccinated.

“I’m a hard-ass about this stuff, and I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he told Saslow. “I can’t afford to take chances.”

Some who tell their stories are the superheroes of the pandemic.

A shift leader of a nursing team in Detroit, Sal Hadwan, recounts insane shifts. While we celebrate and honor health care workers – now more than ever – the dire conditions they were working under were horrifying. Remember garbage bags serving as protective gear? Some had one mask per shift.

In April 2020, Hadwan said: “We’re basically handling the most severe cases in the ER, which is not our training. These nurses don’t have a second to relax. You’ve got one patient’s oxygen running out and another whose heart rate is going wild. All you can do is try your best to hear the alarms and then sprint as fast as you can from one emergency to the next. You hope you make it in time. Sometimes you don’t.”

Naturally, it’s bleak. But there are also stories of humanity at its best.

Burnell Cotlon of New Orleans (pictured above) turned his grocery store in the Lower Ninth Ward into a food pantry. He couldn’t afford to, but some of his neighbors couldn’t afford to eat.

As he said in April 2020, “Last week, I caught a lady in the back of the store stuffing things into her purse. We don’t really have shoplifters here.” He knows the customers in his two-aisle market. The woman swiped a carton of eggs, hot dogs, and candy bars.

“She started crying,” Cotlon told Saslow. “She said she had three kids, and her man had lost his job, and they had nothing to eat and no place to go. Maybe it was a lie. I don’t know. But who’s making up stories for seven or eight dollars of groceries? She was telling me, ‘Please, please, I’m begging you. How are we supposed to eat?’ I stood there for a minute and thought about it, and what am I going to do?”

Colton started running tabs – for the first time. He went from having zero customers on credit to 62 within a month. He kept giving to neighbors until he fell three months behind on his mortgage.

In a postscript, Saslow adds that when Colton’s generosity became known, online fundraisers brought in $500,000. Naturally, he put it to great use: forgiving his customers’ debt and beginning construction on a subsidized apartment building. “He also gave out free school supplies and turned his store into a free vaccination site for the community.”

Every page in this is sobering. Every story chilling, relatable, and absolutely forthright.

For those who lost their jobs and who were living paycheck-to-paycheck, rent became impossible to pay. To lose your job, your health, your relatives and now your home is unbearable. Granted, the news often focuses on the tenants, while many of us assume landlords only take time out from counting their money to harass tenants.

It’s a lot easier to feel for the tenants, who are doing all they can.

Saslow interviewed Tusdae Barr, evicted during the pandemic. Although money was tight before COVID, Barr was making rent with everyone in her family chipping in — until work dried up. Barr eventually found herself ousted, then in cheap motels, and finally with relatives.

If you never thought you could sympathize with a landlord, meet Jayne Rocco of Deland, Fla. She became a landlord 25 years ago when broke, reeling from a divorce. Rocco found a lender, bought and fixed up a cheap house, then flipped it and bought two houses. She continued doing this until she had 10 properties, none fancy. Rocco’s profit was about $40,000 a year pre-pandemic.

Trying to help her tenants and pay her bills, Rocco exhausted her savings. She’s still trying, and still has troubles. With some of the people featured, their troubles are financial. For some, such as a newlywed, former athlete Kaitlin Denis, of Chicago, the effects of long-term COVID, are medical. She’s drained and can barely get out of bed.

And some trying to help, such as Amber Elliot, county health director in Farmington, Mo., found herself threatened with anti-vaxxers posting photos of her kids online.

The book ends with a leading voice of science. Stanley Plotkin, 88, a virologist, “developed the rubella vaccine that’s now in standard use throughout the world.” He’s worked on other life-saving vaccines and consults for the World Health Organization.

“Parents can expect their children to grow up, and that’s a relatively new thing,” Plotkin told Saslow in January. “It shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

If this pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that nothing can.

(source)

#life during covid #NYDN #eli saslow #voices from the pandemic #get vaxxed

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4dtk · 5 years ago

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stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway.

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan.

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed.

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him.

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?"

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat.

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look.

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger.

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his.

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either."

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!"

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes.

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down."

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages.

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing.

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt.

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed.

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?"

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made.

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article.

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host.

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you.

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves.

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh."

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's.

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed.

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31]

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing.

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?"

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory.

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?"

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!"

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door.

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument.

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33]

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader.

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview.

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?'

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking.

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks."

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room.

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time.

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile.

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile.

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder.

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things."

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred.

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye.

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time.

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones.

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment.

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings."

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together.

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression.

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable.

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could.

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation.

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous."

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?".

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now—with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.

358 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 4 years ago

Note

“i want to go home” and “let me go” with ethan 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 make it angsty i missed ur angst

you don’t want to fight with him. you weren’t the fighting type, but christ he can be insufferable sometimes. it hurt you to fight with him - no matter how much he deserved to have his ass handed to him on more than one occasion.

ethan is stubborn. often times brooding during your time together. you’ve known that since the first day you met him and watched with confused delite when he refused for you to pay for your own coffee only minutes after having small talk. he wasn’t the easiest to understand right off the bat that’s for sure. he’d talked of things far beyond your comprehension and spoke eloquently. he’d inserted his card into the chip reader with his brows turned down in a pout, dark hair a perfect mess atop his head, shoes shined, suit pressed. the corners of his mouth drooped to match his adorable pout, merely shaking his head briskly when you’d tried to pay him back. you’d known it to be a kind gesture, and he confirmed those thoughts by later slipping the small white receipt piece in your jacket pocket with seven messy digits drawn right next to a sloppy smiley face.

you still have that receipt in the top drawer of your nightstand. that spark...you remembered that first spark. thinking of him from that day on was habit, and often times more than you could handle. he’d captured a part of you before you’d even realized it. he had that effect on people.

you waited weeks until you’d texted him, too much of a chicken-shit to think he actually meant it as anything more than a kind gesture for listening to him drone on about marketing for at least a half an hour. to your surprise, he had texted back in minutes. from them on he’d made every attempt at scoring a date with you, and when he finally did - you had the best night of your life.

boy did the man have a personality. take that as you will.

if he so much as felt you were having an attitude, he’d refuse your kisses until you agreed to talk to him like a “big girl.” you knew from the moment he whipped his head to the side and shut his eyes, your body going still where you leaned across the table watching him pay bills or work on deadline work. not only did it make you want to fall into the floor and hope the foundation swallowed you up, but it forced you to talk - something you could never get him to do.

ethan only buys you the best of the best despite your objections. you figured that’s what love means to him in a way, giving your all even if it wasn't emotionally. you'd never had the guts to tell him you like to be held more than anything. he makes sure to never leave you unsatisfied in bed - especially if he noticed your legs weren’t shaking hard enough to his liking. tells you any story you want to hear if it means you’ll sleep peacefully. let’s you read your favorite books to him: his head in your lap, arms crossed over his chest in thought, pondering eyes on the ceiling. he’d stop you for explanations along the way. it was an adorable habit that you will love until the end of time. the fact that he wanted to hear your thoughts. you found yourself jotting down scribbles in the margins just to remember the moments exactly as they were: pure.

he tries to act hard, like the world is his slave and bends at his will, you know - oh you know just how soft his heart truly was. even if he was an arrogant ass 87% of the time. but he’s learning. how to be a boyfriend, how to be a man that doesn’t have to hide from vulnerability and emotion. he’s learning despite his discomfort.

ethan never wanted help when making the bed, no matter how many times you insisted and he always wanted to help you put your sunscreen on during summer and run your baths when you’ve had a long day. his work computer was shut off at seven sharp every night and shower always started at six in the morning. keys must be placed on their rightful hook and shoes on the mat. notepad must be placed on his side of the bed in case a thought wakes him in the night and he can’t go to sleep until he writes it down. all of which were non negotiable. he was stubborn, yes...but you loved him.

above all else there was love. so much love it consumed him deep in the pits of his body, mind and soul. even if he couldn’t, or much rather wouldn’t explain just how much you’d bewitched him...there was love.

he had a funny way of showing this love through obstacles and hoops you’d taken forever to jump through early on in your odd relationship. first it was friendship, a strange friendship at that. mostly consisting of calling each other randomly to ask what the person was thinking at that moment, which led to conversations of witches, wizards, and ghouls - children's tales and memories from the past that sprung free of the net. regardless if he meant for it to happen or not, that friendship blossomed into a whirlpool of admittances he would have damned himself for in the past:

“I wanted to see you”

“I hope you're okay”

“let me know when you get home safe”

“can you read that part again? I like the sound of your voice”

“I know you got that job, they’d be insane not to hire you”

“come over, I miss you”

“do you miss me too?”

“I thought of you today”

friendship turned into fire kindling in the pits of him

he wasn’t easy to trust others and you’d earned that trust fair and square. first through kindness, honesty, and a lot of self control. he wasn’t like every guy you’d been with in the past and you didn’t treat him like such. you’d been the only one to take your time and learn the inner workings of his mind and understand, not just engage or maintain his happiness. you’d expanded your craft in making him happy. giggling in bed at 3am, lovestruck, insanely, truly, madly, deeply happy. but demons don’t go away forever, and good behavior must be learned - especially with a life that has treated you unfairly.

you understood how troubled ethans mind could be at times and you tried to be patient. patient enough that when he looked over at you, he trusted that you’d listen to him even if he was being irritating and crude. the darkness swirling in his eyes didn't scare you off, not like the others. you chose to stay time and time again. not that you were a push over by any means but one must understand how hard it became sometimes, to be patient in times where he blocked out every voice, every noise, every reasonable answer and refused to listen. refused your help and your advice, gave you silence as a reward for thirty minutes of trying to make him smile. it was frustrating to be ignored.

there was a lesson you'd known to be true: no matter how many stars you wish on, how many pennies you drop into the well, nothing is ever as perfect as it seems.

you had told him more times than you could count on one hand: you weren’t his enemy. when it felt like the world was out to get him, like the sky was black and blue and he couldn’t see any light in the foreseeable future, you were there with a kind hand to lead him back. back to himself, reality, sanity. with the good came the bad and the constant back and forth it was taking it’s toll. if something didn’t change soon, he’d find that his light has left him in the clouds.

that’s how you found yourself sitting with your fingers fiddling in your lap, in the passenger seat of a car that you’d have to sell your soul to be able to afford, the hot air blowing through the vents and over your now trembling fingers, dress now more tight and uncomfortable than it seemed to be half an hour ago. you tried focusing on anything than the eery silence, save for the quiet music rolling through the speakers. it was easier than you’d thought to drown out the voices - you weren’t in the mindset to listen to someone else's problems. the many rings you wore now the main focal point for the agonizing hour drive back to your shared apartment.

it was a collection of pointless noise. pointless for the simple reason that the only sound you really wanted at the time was ethans voice. the low vibration that shot sparks straight to your stomach, the vibrato that sounded like home. anything to let you know he was okay, that he was working through his emotions instead of shutting them off.

“you okay?”

the last thing that had been said in over 30 minutes. you knew he was frustrated with himself by the white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the way he drove at least ten over the speed limit, and the torturous strain of his taught jaw muscles, eyes shooting daggers at the road. he hadn’t given you an answer.

if you’d known Alec would be there, you never would have gone. you never thought in a million years you’d be seeing him again unless forced by the universe to punish you. punish you both. how often did you see your boyfriends ex bestfriend who happened to co-exist as the ex of your very own bestfriend? a person you’d both chosen to cut ties with for a multitude of reasons. for the better. a lying manipulating cheater that had no place in your life or anyone that you loved. the connection between the two had been a shock at first, but you were quick to warn ethan about the deceitful nature of his “friend.” you wondered how you’d never met ethan before considering that link but were thankful he decided to shoot his shot in the café not a block from your old apartment.

alec was...sneaky. not only had he betrayed you and your bestfriend, shown his true colors, but he’d also betrayed ethan - his closest companion for over a decade. it wasn’t long before he dropped the both of them like they were a virus he was glad to be rid of. it broke your heart to see them both grieve the man they thought they knew. from that day forward, you made it your mission to try and lessen that pain for the two of them in whatever way you could. you became the anchor to a ship gone rogue.

you’d been just as shocked as ethan to see him at the event. an event he wouldn’t have even been at, had it not been for ethan and his good word.

alec was part of the holding company, Rissito’s Publishing Co golden boy. a new top boss only thanks to ethans referral and promise that he’d “kill it.” HR ate it up. if only ethan had known beforehand the betrayal that would unleash after his hiring - he’d have stuck his foot in his mouth long before he told HR to give him a chance.

Alec was someone who gained respect without earning it first. someone who took advantage of a good friends kindness and used it for his own benefit, while leaving that same friend in the dust. he was a dispicable tyrant that had nothing better to do than ruin people to get ahead. no matter what cost.

he was someone who rarely showed his face at events that gave him no ego boost or feeling of supremacy.

you didn’t think your stomach would twist up at the the mere sight of his icy blonde air, unbelievable posture, and wicked grin. but it did. the few times you’d met him for your friend and for ethan...you’d felt the wind of something bad. “something wicked this way comes” right?

you’d been so stunned that you’d stopped in your tracks and let go of ethan’s hand altogether. the air stuck somewhere deep down in your chest, threatening to burst if you didn’t get as far away as you could. of course he would be here, he was invited to speak on behalf of the company. you quickly scolded yourself, reminded that this night wasn’t about you or alec no matter what past or resentment you held - it was about being there in support of ethan and his accomplishments.

alec had strolled up on stage draped with navy velvet curtains, right to a glass podium clear enough that you had to squint to see it just to “give his thanks and welcome” to the crowd of overdressed office workers. you wondered for a brief moment how strange he sounded when he spoke formally. like a robot coached to please. he’d used the same voice when he gaslighted your friend into thinking she was insane and needed help. really he was the lost boy. he spoke down to the group of people he now had authority over. people you knew he didn’t give two fucks about. he looked the same as you remembered - but if possible more sinister. he was the devil in the flesh and someone you knew could set ethan off in seconds. to your horror, your suspicions were true.

this was ethan’s night. at least to you and everyone that cared about him. a night he worked hard towards and quite frankly busted his ass to achieve. he deserved the silver platters, champagne, laughs with his co-workers, a pat on the back from his boss standing somewhere near the exit that you’d missed somehow on your way in. you knew it would be ruined if he let his anger get the best of him. you couldn’t stop his fuse igniting, and just when you thought you’d made it to the clear, that he’d been paying too much attention in trying to find snacks to satisfy his growling stomach - ethan froze beside you. statue still and glaring at alec. you were shocked alec didn’t drop dead from the look.

“i want to go home,” ethan had seethed immediately upon seeing Alec rise to the podium, grabbing your wrist tight with his fingers. too tight would describe his hold. much too tight. he all but ignored your grimace and look of confusion.

“we just got here ethan, you haven’t even received the award,” you had tried to reason with him. he was acting brash. impulsive and irrational. he’d be called to the stage any moment, an award he obviously no longer cared about. when ethan was set on a mission, he was rarely persuaded.

“i don’t give a fuck,” he growled lowly, turning to look at you with laser hot eyes, “i don’t want to be anywhere near that prick and honestly i don’t know why you would either, y/n.”

it stung to hear him spit your name through his clenched teeth, but you tried your best to ignore it.

you heard him. you did. but you also knew he’d regret walking out the door more than he thought at the time. for years all he’s wanted was the recognition that he’d get in just a few minutes - the praise you knew he yearned for. but he was hell bent on getting the hell away from he who must not be named.

“tonight isn’t about him. it’s about your amazing accomplishments. something you’ve earned and worked hard for. don’t let him take this away from you!” of course your words fell on deaf ears. he wasn’t in any position to negotiate.

“stop. talking,” he barked, nails digging into your delicate skin, marching through the crowd of concerned on-lookers.

“ethan stop...you’re hurting me. please stop and talk to me, we can go to the bathroom or something,” you begged, trying not to blush with all eyes set on the two of you. taking a quick glance around to the raised eyebrows and turned up lips you shook your head in embarrassment. you were mortified to be a part of such a scene.

you were embarassed to be causing such a scene at a prestigious event for one of the biggest publishing companies in the country. it caused your stomach to turn at the thought of ever having to face the crowd of people again. your office visits would be few and far between after this.

“baby please,” you whimpered pathetically, trying yet again to be a voice of reason. you figured a pet name would get through to him. hopefully to calm the storm crashing in his head, “stop and look at me.”

“all he’s ever done is fucking ruin things, y/n. don’t you agree? he caused you and i both havoc for MONTHS and you want to stand and listen to this fucking shit?” he barked, turning to look at you with daggers for eyes, “i’ll be damned if i stare at his cocky smirk all night long.” you worried his jaw might break from the strength of his clenching, but chose to keep your knit picking you yourself he’d grumbled one last “fucking dickhead.” before you’d flinched at the aching of your wrist.

being dragged through a crowd of people wasn’t exactly the easiest task when you could barely keep up with his strides on a daily basis, let alone when he was sprinting around tables set for a feast, elegantly dressed men and women, staff that bustled about, and security that eyed you both like a hawk - thankful for your hasty exit.

“let me go!” you cried with one final feeble attempt to reach him through his blind rage from just the sight of the man that had hurt you both deeply. you wretched your hand like a girl gone mad, ignoring the gasps of people much too prudish to ever sympathize with your situation - all they knew what judgment and riches.

guilt crashing through his wall of xxx only allowing him a horrified glance back at your pained expression, yanking his hand back and away from you without a word. he held his arm to his chest as if it pained him to touch you in any way but his usual soft caress.

you watched warily when he turned toward the open set of double doors, this time without grabbing you. you had half a mind not to follow him. but you weighed your options heavily: stay for no reason and get judged and ridiculed by a crowd of people that thought less of you than dirt and even worse, have to talk to alec? or run after ethan and hope for the best on the ride home? hanging your head, you gathered the bottom of your burgundy dress in your hands shyly as to not trip and humiliate yourself further, walking briskly towards the parking lot. you knew he’d be more than ashamed with himself for acting the way he had, disgusted with his failure to perceiver through a problem.

he’s lost control. ethan hated losing control.

isnt that exactly what alec would want? he would want to see ethan crumble before his eyes and the many eyes of people he’s meant to be composed and professional around. create a name for himself: not a good one.

he would want to see him act out and lose his sanity with resentment and hatred in front of the well respected business men and women he worked with daily. alec was far too narcissistic to admit to his wrongdoings, but had a way of making his victims seem crazy. it was the toxicity you’d dealt with for the entirety of your miserable relationship. you felt ill at the fact that ethan had to experience it. had to deal with it for the sake of his job.

he did hate him, more than he’d admit. but really what lied beneath the surface is something he’s only admitted to you once before when he’d had one too many shots. more than anything, alec caused him a great deal of pain. ethan was hurt by his late friend. he was hurt by the reckless behavior and betrayal. he was hurt that alec tried to take his job out from under him instead of being satisfied with what he had. he was hurt that he treated you no greater than a peasant. he was hurt that he’d thrown away years of friendship just to get ahead. more than anything, ethan was hurt. but of course he was too stubborn to say that to you, to anyone, maybe even too scared to admit it to himself.

pulling into the parking garage was in no way an experience you wanted to relive again. the silence pained you. the silence pained him too, and you know it whether or not he’d say so. your tears, silently falling right next to the man you’d normally run to, went unnoticed. the yellow-orange of the lights bounced off the hood of the car to illuminate your devestated expression. you couldn’t believe how the night had played out and how easy it had been for alec to get the best of you both. he had won. again. the thought made your stomach churn.

he was out of line tonight. he’s not only made an ass of himself in front of the head management of his company, but he’d had total disregard for his actions towards you - physical and verbal. tonight...he was someone you didn’t want to be around.

your wrist was red from where he’d grabbed you at the party, reminding you that ethan did need a serious wake up call. you’d done as much as you could to soothe him and you won’t be subject to his wrath.

when he finally turned into a parking spot and turned the car off, he finally did speak. but it was in no way what you wanted to hear.

“they’ll hold the award. i would have been on the stage speaking for a couple seconds before they moved on.”

despite your efforts, you scoffed at how abtuse he really was to the situation.

“i asked if you were okay. but you acted very not okay and i don’t know how to help you or even if i want to,” you told him earnestly, eyes glued to your lap.

“what does that even mean?” ethan snapped, running a hand through his hair.

you watched as a grey expedition passed in the side mirror before you chose to respond as calmly as you could.

“it was so easy for you to lose control.”

“i don’t stay in situations that hinder me or the people i care about.”

“oh so now you care about me?”

“that’s not fair, y/n,” he sighed, shaking his head and looking out his respective window.

“and this is?” you hold up your reddened wrist, just far enough that he couldn’t ignore the gesture and turned to look at you briefly.

“it wasn’t personal, i just get so...”

“angry. you were angry and i understand why you would be. al...he showed up out of nowhere and you don’t do well with surprises. but he is a part of that company now and maybe we both should have prepared ourselves before we stepped foot out of the apartment tonight. i didn’t deserve that and neither did anyone else at the event tonight.”

he opened his mouth to speak, another excuse your sure but you carried on while blinking back hot tears.

“you were impulsive and gave no mind to the way you treated me and how it must have looked to your boss who watched us leave not even 30 minutes after we arrived. how do you think you’ll feel in the morning when this is all you’ve wanted and you let him ruin it? you always said you were done letting people get the best of you.”

“he has a way of pissing me off and he’s just- he doesn’t care okay?! he sat up there and told lies, y/n. he doesn’t give a fuck about the job or the people or even all of the good we do and dreams we help make a reality. i...i should have been the one up there talking...” ah...so jealousy it was.

“ethan,” you laugh, not with humor but disbelief, “you know he’s as fake as they come. he doesn’t care like you do. you will have your time to shine and you would have tonight if you hadn’t ran away like a coward.”

“i don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he grumbled, opening the latch on the door in an attempt to get out and leave a conversation where he had to talk about how he felt.

“you can run all you want but one day these feelings will catch up with you and you’ll crash. you’ve opened up quite a bit with me over the past few months and i’ve noticed that change and i’ve been proud. more than anything i’m proud...but this has to stop,” you grab him by his bicep, forcing him to look at the tears that fell onto your cheek, ignoring the stiff silence without the aid of the radio and air conditioning, “you have to start believing in yourself like i do. who gives a fuck if he’s a man with five seconds of fame he didn’t even earn? you bust your ass every single day and you know it.”

his eyes shoot across your kind face, landing on your eyes that scream he’s sorry, he messed up, he wants to talk but doesn’t know what to say.

“no one can make you feel inferior without your permission remember?” you nod, trying your best to give him a smile. you suppose it looked more like a grimace.

“right,” he huffs, sucking in a breath like he’d been suffocating the entire ride home, and maybe he had. he’s pressing the palms of his hands flat against his eyes in an attempt to cover up whatever emotion threatened to expose him, “fuck him dude.”

“fuck him is right,” you chuckled dryly, flopping back against the leather back of the seat.

in the silence you waited. you must have been sitting together in the orange glow of the lights for thirty more minutes, the time passing slow. you watched him pull himself together, breathing even in an attempt to build up the nerve to talk once again.

finally he’d looked at you with those eyes you fell in love with. the hazel brightness that was a gate to who he truly was. a soft man with a traumatic story that wasn’t his fault. he fought hard for everything he had and he’d built a good life for himself. he was a different, better, man than he’d been the day he paid for your coffee without question. he was unsure of himself and self-conscious to the point he didn’t know what his purpose was. he’d bounced around from girl to girl, drank away his sadness...but you. you. you must have been his saint. his angel placed in his path for a reason. he couldn’t have felt shittier when he looked over at your wet cheeks and hair falling out of it’s elegant up-do.

you’d flinched at the feeling of his fingers trailing over the splotchy fingerprints on your wrist. this time, you welcomed the touch, staring at his hand tracing the damaged he’d caused. you tried not to bunch your dress up in your other hand.

“i hurt you.”

you nod slightly, not having the energy to respond with anything else.

“i embarassed you.”

another nod.

“i won’t do it again,” he whispered, fully ashamed of himself, “and i’ll...i’m gonna talk to Jeff on Monday. apologize for running off. i’ve never been that person and i acted before i could think straight. you were right. i earned this night and i shouldn’t have let him get to me so quickly. seeing him shouldn’t break me down. it was cowardice and i made an ass of us both and i’m sorry. i’ll try my best to make it right.”

smiling gently, you find yourself leaning over the console to kiss him on the apple of his cheek. his warmth shot sparks through your chest and stomach, something youre sure you’ll never get used to.

“we’ll figure this out together. that’s what we do. side by side. we figure shit out when it seems hopeless and when we look like idiots. it’s called being a team you dummy. thank you for apologizing. but...you know what i’d love?”

the light tone of your voice had him smiling in no time, his head rolling on his neck to look at you, head resting back against the seat.

“if i chilled the fuck out?” he teased with a grin.

“yes...but not what i was gonna say,” you continue smiling, raising his hand to kiss over his knuckles, “i was going to say...i’d love for us to go upstairs so i can get out of this ridiculously tight dress.”

inching towards you he nods, eyes latched on your lips. you feel his breath fan over your skin, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. he’s moving slowly, enough that if your lips didn’t meet soon you’d get impatient.

“i’m sure we can make that happen,” he mumbles, so low you almost don’t hear him.

you know from this point on, you can trust him on his word. you can’t think to hesitate when he tilts your chin up to connect your lips in a gentle kiss. the fire kindling in your stomach burns brighter when he nips at your bottom lip, asking for permission. you part your lips eagerly, deepening the kiss.

the growth you’ve seen just from this conversation had you hoping for a future where he trusts you completely and didn’t shy away when his own mind punished him into make rash decisions. he’d owned up to his mistake and meant everything he’d said. it would be the last time alec got the best of him. it would be the last time he’d run away from a battle he knew he had the strength to conquer, especially with you at his side.

you’d deal with the consequences of his actions tomorrow, but for now the two of you lived in your own world - far away from alec, the banquet, and any other outside force that threatened to tear you apart. he’d placed his trust in you, and you’d do anything in your power to protect it.

#asks #e!concepts #ethan!concepts #cozyethan #i hope you like it!#it’s long af soooo

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ezzydean · 4 years ago

Note

Number 19 of the winter prompts with rare pairs of your choice both as the mistletoe misfits and their “victims” thank you!

So this is... yeah. Better late than never and all that I suppose.

5+1 - Five times Iwaizumi & Tsukishima got other people under the mistletoe and one time they were caught under it

ONE

Hajime freezes when he hears the distinct sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat behind him. Unfortunately freezing makes him go a little bit wobbly — he feels it reflects more on the condition of the step stool he found in the supply closet than it does himself thank you for asking — and he barely manages to stick the pushpin into the ceiling before he half steps half topples off the stool and slowly turns around. Tsukishima is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, wearing an unimpressed look on his face and a sweater that reminds Hajime a little bit of the kind of ridiculous things that Oikawa always manages to find around the holidays.

“I’m the mature, responsible one,” Hajime says before Tsukishima can even open his mouth. “No one will believe you if you try to rat me out.”

“Sawamura would,” Tsukishima counters. “He trusts me.”

“He’s too busy trying to keep Tanaka from convincing Hinata to dye his hair purple to really pay attention right now.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “Gee. I wonder who put that idea in Tanaka’s head.”

Hajime shrugs.

“Do you think this is too obvious of a place to leave the mistletoe,” he says instead of admitting to anything. “Or not obvious enough?”

Tsukishima glances up and then past Hajime into the next room.

“Depends on who you’re trying to catch with it.”

“Whoever I can.”

Tsukishima nods, gesturing for Hajime to move out of the way. “Hey Kuroo,” he calls into the next room. “C’mere a sec.” He grins at Hajime. “Pick a person.”

Hajime spins around and gestures frantically at the first person he makes eye contact with. Nishinoya hurries over and nearly collides with Kuroo in the doorway, clearly too worried about the way Hajime had been waving him over to pay attention to what was going on around him.

Kuroo and Nishinoya laugh and start going through the motions of waving each other through the doorway when Tsukishima clears his throat. He smiles sweetly when they look at him and points to the mistletoe hanging above their heads.

“Seriously, Tsukki?” Tsukishima scowls at Kuroo but keeps pointing at the mistletoe.

Nishinoya looks up and laughs, cheeks flushing. Kuroo rolls his eyes at Tsukishima but leans down and gives Nishinoya a kiss that, from Hajime’s perspective, Nishinoya seems to enjoy quite a bit despite how innocent it is.

Kuroo straightens up and rolls his eyes one more time before wandering back to whatever he was doing before Tsukishima called him over. Nishinoya watches him go, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering.

TWO

The suspicious look Kenma gives him from the armchair as he tucks his phone under his leg would probably make a lesser man falter. But Kei’s known Kenma for over a decade and has worked with him in the IT department for the last three years. So he’s been on the receiving end of more than his fair share of suspicious looks from Kenma.

“Whatever you’re planning the answer is no.”

Kei huffs softly and gives Kenma an offended look.

“I am not planning anything.”

“Please. I’ve seen you talking to Hajime. I’m not an idiot.”

Kei shrugs. “At least you don’t automatically assume he’s innocent and I’m the bad influence.”

“I’ve been the lead IT person for four years. I’ve worked with Hajime for five. Trust me. I know he’s no more innocent than you.”

“I would say that hurts.” Kei glances over his shoulder at the burst of noise and laughter that pops up from the kitchen. “But your words haven’t hurt me since we were twelve and you called me a lanky broccoli flavored popsicle. Whatever that meant.”

“It meant you were as appealing as a broccoli flavored popsicle.”

“So I’m an acquired taste.” Kenma nods. “I can deal with that.” Kenma rolls his eyes and reaches for his phone, conversation ended in his mind, and Kei steps back. “Let it be known I was gonna warn you.”

Kenma frowns at him and then his lap is full of flailing arms and a solid body. Kei glances at the doorway that Hajime is peeking out from, looking surprisingly innocent considering he had just shoved Futakuchi hard enough to topple him into Kenma’s lap.

Futakuchi finally manages to get a grip on the arms of the chair and goes to lever himself up when Kei clears his throat and points up.

“I will plant a virus so good it will take you years to recover from it.”

“Just kiss him already.”

Kenma gives Kei a rather rude gesture but he pulls Futakuchi in for a kiss that the other man melts into.

THREE

Satori had seen the mistletoe hanging above the fridge. Hell he had watched Iwaizumi climb onto the counter to stick it to the ceiling; he had been pretty impressed that Iwaizumi hadn’t fallen flat on his face considering how drunk he appeared to be. It’s not like any of them are all that sober at this point so it’s not like he’s judging the man at all. In fact he’s counting on the fact that none of them are all that sober because then they’re more willing to go along with his shenanigans.

Though some of them would be willing anyway. They’re just that awesome of coworkers and friends.

“Are you the guard here or something?” Satori grins and gives Wakatoshi a wink.

“Or something.”

“You planned the mistletoe didn’t you?”

“More like I’m taking advantage of something that was here when I arrived. Using the territory to my advantage. You want in the fridge?”

Wakatoshi smiles a little and leans down to kiss Satori’s cheek.

“Yes, please.”

Like he said. He’s taking advantage of the territory. He gets a kiss on the forehead from Sawamura. A kiss on his hand from Kuroo. Three kisses from Noya in about five minutes because he kept coming back in for more shots. Kenma stares him down until he opts to step out of the way — the last time he pissed Kenma off he hadn’t been able to log into any network in their five building company for almost a month. and despite what some people think he’s not completely stupid.

Just a little reckless sometimes.

“Have you seriously just been standing in front of this fridge all night?” He glances up at Tanaka’s voice and grins at him. Recklessness often pays off. Which is why he does it.

“I have been.”

“You know most people come to a party to socialize.”

“Basically every single person who has come to this party has come into this kitchen. I am socializing.”

“By blocking the fridge?”

“By blocking the fridge.”

Tanaka glances around the kitchen and sighs. “And if someone wants into the fridge because that’s where their drinks are?”

Satori grins even wider and tilts his head before he flicks his pointer finger up and gestures towards the ceiling.

“One kiss to get into the fridge. That’s the fee.”

“Have you seriously been waiting here all night and just kissing anyone and everyone who comes along?”

“I mean. More or less. I don’t necessarily mind kissing any of them but I will admit that I have been hoping for one particular person to come along more than the others and I haven’t kissed them yet.”

Tanaka raises his brows and eyes Satori. “Oh? And who would that be?”

Satori crooks his finger at Tanaka. “C’mere and give me a kiss and I’ll tell you.”

He’s only been wanting to kiss Tanaka for about two years now and the moment their lips meet he knows that it’s been worth the wait. Every moment of the last two years has been worth it.

“Tanaka what’s taking so long to get my—” He has no idea how long they’ve been kissing when Tsukishima comes into the kitchen. “Seriously. Seriously?” Tsukishima sighs and mutters something but Satori is too busy making up for two years of not kissing Tanaka senseless every chance he got to really listen.

FOUR

“It’s kind of hard to watch,” Hajime says as he sits on the couch next to Suga and grimaces.

“Yeah. They’ve been like this since high school.”

“That long?”

“That long.”

“Damn. And I thought Oikawa and Makki were bad.”

Suga snickers. “Oh they were. These two are almost worse somehow.”

Hajime tilts his head as he watches the two men across the room. “It’s impressive in a frightening way.”

“It really is.”

They watch the other men in companionable silence as the men laugh and talk, heads tilted together gently.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tsukishima says and Hajime looks up in surprise. He swears Tsukishima hadn’t been there just a second ago. But now he’s perched on the arm of the arm of the couch next to Hajime. “Put us out of our misery, Suga. Please.”

Tsukishima hands Suga something. Hajime can’t see what it is but it makes Suga’s eyes light up and he gives them both a wild grin before shooting off the couch and hurrying across the room. Hajime figures Tsukishima will get up and take Suga’s seat but he just stays there perched next to Hajime as Suga grabs Mattsun’s attention and starts whispering to him. The way Mattsun smiles makes Hajime wonder for a brief moment what kind of chaos Tsukishima just unleashed.

Then Suga is clambering onto Mattsun’s back and Mattsun is striding over so Suga can dangle the mistletoe in his hand over his unsuspecting victims.

“Daichi,” Suga calls out. “Chikara. I love you both and I know you both very well. So just trust me when I say just kiss already.”

Daichi’s cheeks flush and Ennoshita looks ready to kill Suga but the entire living room starts to chant for them to kiss and Ennoshita shrugs and pulls Daichi into a deep kiss that has the whole room bursting out in cheers and whistles.

“So,” Hajime says. “Who’s next?”

FIVE

He will deny it to his dying day but Kei actually does kind of have a soft spot in that dark pit he calls a heart for a certain overly enthusiastic ball of sunshine and happiness. He doesn’t want to date Hinata but he does like to make the little shit happy when he can. It usually doesn’t take much. A cute cat meme or a meat bun left on his desk here. The absolute destruction of an opposing company whose CEO thought Hinata was an easy target there. Little things.

The look Iwaizumi gives him when he suggests giving Ushijima the mistletoe with a little bit of instruction is highly uncalled for. It’s far too soft and fond and it makes it look like Iwaizumi thinks Kei is sweet or something.

“Do you want to do this or not?” Iwaizumi snorts at Kei, which is also uncalled for. “Look just give him the mistletoe and leave Hinata to me. And stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m some puppy who just learned a new trick or something.”

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi says as he grabs the mistletoe from Kei. “Just get him to us in a couple minutes. I’ll make sure no one else is there.”

He watches Iwaizumi wander out of the room and takes a moment to brace himself. No matter how long he’s known Hinata he needs to prepare himself to interact with the guy. There’s just so much energy there. It’s a lot to take in.

After he gathers himself he heads for the front porch. He’s pretty sure he saw Hinata head outside a few minutes ago.

“Hey,” he says as he leans against the railing next to Hinata. “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad.” Hinata chuckles. “You’ve been busy tonight.”

“Didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me.”

“Well when half our coworkers are suddenly making out it tends to draw some attention. Especially since before this party all of one couple was already a couple.”

“That’s fair.” Kei bumps their shoulders together. “You wanna make another couple happen tonight?”

Hinata peers at him curiously. “Who?”

“You and the tall wall of muscle you drool over during your lunch breaks.”

Hinata perks up. “I like the sound of that. But do you think he does?”

“Iwaizumi is talking to him now. From what I’ve seen while you’ve been drooling it’s a safe bet that he does too.” He pushes away from the porch railing and starts to head back inside. “You coming with to find out,” he asks over his shoulder. “Or are you going to chicken out?”

“Lead the way Tsukishima. I’m not afraid of anything.”

Kei leads Hinata to the home office in the back corner of the house. He can practically feel Hinata vibrating behind him and he shakes his head. He opens the door and ushers Hinata inside. Iwaizumi is leaning against the desk next to Ushijima but he pushes away from it when Kei and Hinata step inside the office.

Iwaizumi pats Ushijima’s shoulder and smiles at Hinata.

Hinata heads for the desk and Ushijima stands up straight when Hinata gets to him.

Kei doesn’t work with Ushijima much so he can’t read him the greatest but he thinks the guy actually looks nervous as he pulls his hand out from behind his back and holds a sprig of mistletoe above Hinata’s head.

Hinata smiles up at Ushijima and nods enthusiastically.

PLUS ONE

Tsukishima pulls Hajime out of the office just before Hinata and Ushijima’s lips meet.

“So,” Hajime sighs happily. “Job well done all around I think.”

Tsukishima laughs softly and nods. “We did good. Though you weren’t nearly as sneaky as you seemed to think you were.”

Hajime waves his hand as they walk down the hall.

“Being sneaky wasn’t the point.”

“What was the point then?”

Hajime leans against the wall next to the hall closet and Tsukishima stops in front of him. Hajime’s gaze flickers to the ceiling and then he watches as Tsukishima looks up and a smile slides onto his face. He reaches out and grabs Tsukishima’s sweatshirt, tugging him closer with a grin.

“Come on and kiss me already.”

“Well if you insist.” Tsukishima lets Hajime tug him forward until he’s pinning Hajime against the wall. “Happy Anniversary, Hajime.”

“Happy Anniversary, Kei,” Hajime mumbles against his lips.

#haikyuu #hq writing #IwaTsukki #EnnoDai #TanaTen #UshiHina #FutaKen #KuroNoya #IwaTsukki fic #vball-baes-bball-babes

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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago

Text

•ALLEGRA BIANCHI•

IG info/bio: @/theeallegrabianchi | 303k followers| Entrepreneur | bad bitches go to therapy thxz 🦭👄

(24) 26 years old

From Swansea, Wales

Ofc she knows who Catherine Zeta-Jones is...her mother literally resembles her and remembers people coming up to her mom countless times asking for a pic growing up, and Allegra hated taking pics for these imbeciles...mainly because the attention wasn’t on her

has a dysfunctional family...

her mother is critical of almost everything she does but at least she paying attention?

and feels her father is neglectful and only seems to be heard when she’s in his face

all they know how to do is scream at each other instead of talking calmly to one another

her mother is of Venezuelan heritage

And Her father is of Italian heritage

her father’s side of the family resides in calabria italy

he named her after his high school gf that passed away due to his irresponsible drunk driving on their senior prom night

Her parents do not have the healthiest of relationships due to her father constantly cheating on her mother in the past...leading to verbal and physical fights

also has a kid or two outside of their marriage because of his unfaithfulness and allegra learned to hate them because of the hurt her mother showcased

In the beginning she was only around them because her father enforced it, that she needed to know her family “blood is all you got in the end.” He would always say but that was bs

Would take her, her half sibs, and her full sibs on day trips/weekend trips in his suburban

Has three full older brothers and one full younger sister

Because of this, Allegra did not have a clear view of what love was supposed to be and felt that anger in a relationship is supposed to be somewhat of the norm?

Many times she wished at night in her bed with a pillow over her head that her parents would just file for a divorce already when their fights would get bad to the point things would get broken and her mother would h*t her father (once with a metal bat) and throw him out of the house

Has had the cops called on their household before and cps definitely has/had a file on them

Has been in family therapy before and is currently in therapy mainly for herself because of the trauma & how it’s messed with her spirit as a person

Loves? Cares for her parents from afar but will never understand their relationship and why they’re still together to this day

Can go months without speaking to any of her family members and be completely fine with that

Had her younger sis, Nerina put her PRIVATE shit on blast via internet after love island aired and completely cut her off since she is “a clout chaser and money hungry bitch who can’t take care of own her child cause she opened her legs to a meth head who loves prison” OOP

she only has a decent relationship with one of her brothers who’s two years older than her, Vito. They seem to be the closest out of the sibs and he’s the only one she bothers to speak to from time to time

She’s a “cocktail entrepreneur” so I’m guessing she has her own business where she specializes in her own cocktail drinks? Working in some upscale rooftop/penthouse bar where she successfully makes profits from her signature drinks or has a brand that focuses mainly on cocktails

It took years for her business to take off and hasn’t been easy, not one bit. At times it felt like everyone wanted to see her fail and she has openly spoken about her struggles as not only a entrepreneur but as a woman in this business where no one wanted to take a chance on her

That just lit the fire that’s already inside of her

Aries sun + Leo moon + Scorpio rising? (Personality vs how you react to things emotionally vs you’re outside shell for those who don’t follow this too much. I’m not too in depth about it but I do find it interesting!)

Or should she be reversed as a Leo sun with a Aries moon? Aries are direct, fiery, one step ahead of others, impulsive, and know how to take charge. Leo’s are dramatic, loves attention, passionate, loyal, warm, and have a need to express their passions, and scorpios are intense, secretive, mysterious, and work strategically

anyways, I feel like she’s definitely improved as a person over the span of two years? Or at least I hope she has cause everyone goes thru changes

And she was frustrating in s1 so I just know she had some deeper issues going on so I really think therapy is helping her ass I wish it would help me lmao

Being cheated on honestly made her feel like her mother, weak in her mind she was with this dude for awhile—3 years and he just up and thought it was okay to cheat on her? With his personal trainer?! Yet he didn’t gain any muscle mass?! The ultimate disrespect!!! but one thing she knew? She wasn’t going to stick around like her mom did

But she was bitter about it foresure. She ultimately wanted to corner the girl for messing with HER man but part of her knew she wasn’t the only one to blame. However that didn’t stop her for cussing her out via voicemail a couple of times while intoxicated

Allegra always strived for love cause she’s never really seen it before or felt it

Sure she’s had many boyfriends before?And their names didn’t matter not only because she didn’t remember them? But she never felt the spark with them in the first place?

Maybe she wasn’t meant for love so she kinda put on this bitchy front and always been that way with some shitty friends she had around her until she recently cut them off a year ago

has gotten herself into trouble as a kid: trespassing, and destroying public property, smoking in the girls bathroom, physical altercations, cutting class, being assigned community service, etc... all with these friends she’s had for years!

Before she met her problematic friends in secondary, when she was in her pre-teen stage she was involved in the handbell team and in the Color guard but hates to admit it even tho her parents have pics all over the flat

went away to uni for a semester and wanted to join a sorority but the hazing was extreme to the point she was sent to the hospital then accepted? Which led to more trauma in her life so she dropped out

A few years later she decided on online courses and moved out of her parents flat as soon as she could with the $ she saved up and did not leave in the house since it was not safe to smh

Therapy was really helping sis, she felt a lot better and was working on her deep rooted issues mainly the anger and hurt and never really realized how it revolves around her life. She was super thankful for her therapist and reshaping herself

Many didn’t buy it but she knew she couldn’t give that much of a fuck? She couldn’t. In order to grow you got to learn that you have to involve for yourself and not others

She didn’t like the person she saw watching the show back but when she came back to the reunion a part of her hoped people saw some sort of change in her—even if it’s only been a few months since the show then

Sometimes she’ll slip back into old habits, wanting and doing so by snapping on people and blacking out by getting intoxicated and knowing that healing is a process and valuing yourself is the exact same

has a toy poodle that she loves deeply

doesn’t have many outside friends after cutting off the ones that were toxic

is pro-ab*rtion and had one herself which was aired out by her sister online

has a cozy flat that has a lot of brick exposure inside, a navy sofa which is her favorite piece in her house, and a view to die for!! which erases the fact that her apartment is “cozy” which she uses to replace the fact that it’s much smaller than what she originally wanted. She dreams big ya know!!!

currently has a crush on her art teacher who resembles Adam Rodriguez

but also feels like liking your teacher/instructor is a bit weird? Even tho they’re both grown

yes she is taking art classes now outside of work to find something that’ll bring her peace and these pass months they have until COVID hit where classes had to be cancelled yet she was contacted to continue online but she felt her art was truly shit but he says art is subjective

She feels like there’s a connection there? But at the same time isn’t looking for another relationship until she fully works on herself first! That took awhile for her to accept after she fell into some relations with a few ppl after the show

from there she realized that she might like girls too? And got a little annoyed that it took her this long to figure out especially with the way she felt around MC and cherry

doesn’t like to admit this but her fav holiday is Christmas? Even tho the theme is majorly corny to her but it actually makes her happy?

Feels like that was the only time her family showed love towards each other, and even tho they didn’t come from much, they always followed thru with their traditions

and she misses them a little bit around this time and might be the first one to call them even if the calls are short lived and kinda awkward at first

Loves making gingerbread houses and cookies

i feel like she now embraces her forearm hair but still gets everything else lasered

Miss Allegra has inches okay?! But I definitely feel like now in 2020 she’s chopping that shit off into a pixie cut and when she posts on the gram her hair is usually always damp when she shows it off

some comments — jake: lovely! Jen: babe, ur beautiful! Erikah: 😍 Tim: how hot! You’ve got the whole resident evil thing goin for yous

“Did he just call me a virus?”

And she might get a like from mason that’ll make her feel some type of way

We all have to go thru some growth you know so do you girl!

You can’t tell me she doesn’t play stabscotch!

Used to be obsessed with social media way before going on love island but lately doesn’t mind disappearing for months at a time? You have to cleanse yourself from that shit

idk i see her being mostly cool with jen or erikah and will hang out with them from time to time? Maybe they experienced some growth too, shit I sure hope so

still feels something for mason??? But at the same time maybe it was mainly superficial since mason wasn’t fucking with her like that, not 100% but at the same time gets frustrated that he still doesn’t see where she’s coming from and it’s been 2 years???

She loves hard if given the chance and then feels like shit when it doesn’t work out cause it feels like she wasted a fuck load of time

she no longer follows him because she feels like it’s better for her spirit or whatever and she doesn’t need to see him with someone else

the only guy that she really interacts with is Tim, yet tim is cool with everybody!

Otherwise there’s no real connection with her and anybody else? She wants to keep love island separate from herself now because she’s not exactly the same as she was two years ago? And hopes someday people will get that

Probably watches those auction shows on the telly late at night when she can’t sleep, hoping and can afford some of those things one days

I feel like she has chronic migraines too?

Once had a significant other buy her Allegra-D in all seriousness for her birthday because it reminded them of her & thought it would help her headaches 🤨

Loves the snow, but hates cleaning it off her car! S/O to those HOA fees, bless it cause leggy’s deff bussed her ass once before breaking her collarbone and sued like a mf!!!

Since her hours are hardly consistent since she’s mainly her own boss, she’ll have late nights/early mornings when she returns home and has to shift days where she cleans the flat but when she cleans??? It’s best everyone stays tf out of her way

And don’t try to help her cause you’re doing it wrong 10/10 of the time, she loves cleaning and has dropped mad money on those super expensive vacuums

Only knows how to make what’s relative to her culture: arepas, penne alla vodka, and cawl but otherwise than that? She’d rather clean then spend hours in a kitchen cooking unless she’s making cocktails ofc!

also loves shopping for clothes but shoes are her fav things to shop for

Deff has a steamer over a iron for her clothes

Keeps eucalyptus and lavender oil in her purse at all times

posts mainly on her stories and made a deal with her supporters that she’ll go live once a month since she feels like she owes them that? Since she’s not as active anymore but she really doesn’t owe anybody shit but out of the newfound kindness of her heart...she does

Believes she got Covid before they all decided to do a shut down/lockdown of restaurants, bars, etc.. and her suspicions were proven correct after she decided to get tested

her anthem? Kali Uchis — Dead to me (acoustic version)

#litg #litg allegra #litg headcanons #litg headcanon #litg moodboard #litg mason #litg Tim #litg jake #litg jen #litg erikah #litg mc #litg oc #had to make to drama filled since s1 did us right along with s2 #I do feel like Allegra bettered? herself after the show and stand by that #I still laugh when I see her character in my head and the fact that someone said she looks like the bride of chucky #anyways I like giving people the benefit of the doubt and I think ppl like her better than Lucy? lmao so this is for y’all allegra stans #decided to give s3 a break and play s1 again hope that’s cool lol #also no longer doing celeb crush/music choices anymore cause I’ve run out? lol alright bye!

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where Dabi Gets Involved With Overhaul’s Girl. Part Fourteen.

Edited: 1-15-2021

The days with Dabi soon turned into two weeks. Two explicitly passionate and exquisite weeks. Somedays you stayed inside your room with him and played games together, uno and monopoly, were two of your go-to games. Dabi had told you he hadn't really played games besides sports with his siblings when he was younger, you had decided to set out to change that. Other days you would leave your room to make your presence seen by Kai's lackeys, both you and Dabi would be seen by his 'loyal' men in a friendly bodyguard and protected manner. Nothing more than what they would assume is a work relation.

It was so arousing and thrilling. One minute you were in Kai's bed, having glorious sweet and precarious sex with Dabi, the next you were eating dinner in the Shiehassaikai bases kitchen and nobody had a clue what you and Dabi had done. No one knew, no one suspected. It was a well-kept secret between you and Dabi, but you had to suppose all things had to come to an end.

"When is he coming back?"

The question rolled off of your lips as you crawled across the bed and over to Dabi's lap. His rough hand comes up and grabs your hips, both giving you support and trying to stop you from sitting down on him or grinding against him.

"He texted me, he'll be back in an hour."

"You think we got time for, um...?"

There was desperation in your voice, practically aching for him to take you again before Kai came home. He was straining against his belt, hot and heavy at you throwing yourself on him, begging him to take you for a second time that morning.

"No, I don't wanna risk it. If he came back while I was in you he'd kill us both on the spot, and I’d like to take my time with you."

Your cheeks burned crimson red, you felt hot and needy yet Dabi and you had already passionately fornicated that morning. You plopped down on the bed next to Dabi and took his hand into yours. You were nervous about Kai coming home. Nervous that things between you and Dabi would change, nervous that Kai would somehow know.

"Nothing’s gonna change when he comes back, right?"

"Course’ not doll."

Dabi placed a swift kiss against your head. It was tender and loving, so reassuring and special before he muttered out more reassuring words to you.

"Nothing's gonna change. I'll still love you even when he makes you cling to him. I’ll love you, but we just can’t be as close. Can’t have as much sex, or kiss. I’m gonna get you out, don't forget I promised you that."

"I can't wait to get out. I want to be far away from him, I want Eri to be far away from him."

Dabi swung his legs off of the bed and turned to you with a half-lidded smile. It churned your stomach every time he smiled at you. Every time you saw his turquoise eyes, every time you saw the glint in his staples. You couldn't remember ever feeling this way about Kai.

"Strip."

"Oh, so we do have time for it."

"No, I want my shirt back, and I want to change the sheets before Kai’s back. You've been awfully horny, Kai must have a tiny dick, or am I just that good?"

You pulled Dabi's shirt up and off your body. You scrounged around in your dresser for a shirt and pair of pants after you threw Dabi his shirt back to him. You supposed you should get in the shower, there was cum on your leg. It wasn't dried, but rather kind of pastry having decided to cuddle instead of clean up after yourselves earlier. Just the knowledge that Kai would be disgusted at you for not immediately cleaning up afterward was euphoric.

"You are good. You're gentle, but rough at the same time. You pay attention to me and what I say... It’s pleasurable."

"That's how it should be."

Dabi collected your sheets and left your room to give you privacy to shower. His heartfelt heavy at your words. He had seen how Kai treated you, he saw the roughness, the violence. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise that he was the same in the bedroom. Getting you out wasn't enough for Dabi, he wanted to hurt Kai, but he supposed getting you and Eri out would have to be enough for now.

Once Dabi left your room you grabbed your clothes, placed them on top of your dresser, and went into the bathroom. You turned the shower handles to make the water hot and climbed in. The water hit you, wetting your hair as it proceeded to run down your back. You watched as it hit your legs and made a milky white residue slide down the floor of the bathtub. Evidence that you and Dabi had been together so intimately.

Sometimes you felt bad, bad, and guilty. You were Kai's girlfriend, you should be loyal to him. You shouldn't be cheating on him, fornicating and fraternizing with a member of the league of villains, which Kai hated. With Dabi. You had to remind yourself what he’d done to Eri. You had to remind yourself that the way Kai had been treating you wasn't right, wasn't normal. You had to remind yourself that a relationship based on threats and hurt wasn't right. It had been happening for so long that you started to normalize it.

You watched the last remnants of your morning with Dabi wash down the drain with a smile on your face. Dabi treated you so well, so right. The last two weeks with him without Kai around were euphoric, completely euphoric. He wasn't there to hurt you, wasn't there to deliver some unjust punishment. Dabi had held you, touched you, and made you feel such pleasure in ways Kai would never accomplish and he would never know. He would never know of the betrayal you delivered to him. He would never know how you developed feelings for Dabi. He would never know how Dabi held you, touched you, loved you. He would never know until you and Eri were long gone.

You stepped out of the bathtub after rinsing the soap off of your body and stepped out into the bathroom floor. Water dripped on top of the towel you had previously laid out. Maybe it was from being around Kai so much, but you hated getting out of the shower and having your feet touch the cold, gross ground while they were wet. You grabbed the second towel you had laid out on a shelf and began running the item over your body, drying off every droplet of water. You grabbed a third and final towel and wrapped it around your head, trapping all the water on your hair in one place and keeping it there until you were ready to deal with it after you were dressed.

With one towel tightly wound around your hair and the other tightly wrapped across your body and chest, you walked back into your bedroom. Kai was back now, he's sat on the bed, perfectly still just waiting for you. It takes everything in you not to go back into the bathroom, not to lock the door and keep him away from you. The thought is silly and futile, he'd just warp the door. You notice the bed is made and clean now, indications of what you and Dabi did were no longer there. It brings a smile to your face, prideful and glorious, vindictive joy.

"Hi."

It comes out meek, but you try your best to make it sound happy. You have to play the game. Play the game to win the game, that's what Dabi told you to do. You need to play the game to win the game, play the game to end the game. Just play into him, do what he wants, convince him until you can leave.

"I missed you."

"Did you?"

His reply feels accusatory. Threatening and dangerous, and you have to clench your thighs together. It wasn't arousal or anything of that sort, it was fear. Pure, terrifying, fear. Fear that he somehow knew what you did. The fear he somehow knew of your betrayal. But he couldn't have known. He wasn't here, and he took a lot of his men with him. Dabi was the one who was supposed to watch you for this type of thing, and he wasn't about to snitch on himself.

"I did!"

Kai raises his eyebrows at you. Maybe it was the distance, but this was the nicest he’d spoken to you in a long time. He stood up and walked towards you, billions of nerves erupted in your body. You didn't want him touching you while you weren't yet dressed. His hand reached up like he was about to touch your cheek, but it never comes. He brings it back down to his side instead.

"I read there's an old virus making a comeback. Multiple cases in China, it hasn't hit Japan yet. I want both of us to go and get a check-up."

"Of course, Let me get dressed first!"

"Please be quick, I want us to get blood work done as soon as possible."

You walked over to where you had left your clothes on the edge of your dresser and took a deep breath. Kai was watching you, you knew he was. You hated getting dressed in front of him, you hated having his eyes on you. What he did that night, how he pushed you into letting him defile and touch you, it wasn't right. You were being cautious around him, trying not to entice him. That wasn't something you could afford.

Dabi’s words flooded through your head. You had to play the game. You had to play the game to win the game. Play the game to safely leave the game. You needed to convince Kai. You needed to make him think you were wholeheartedly and completely his. You needed him to think that you loved him completely, that you submitted to him completely.

Instead of discreetly trying to slide your clothes on with your towel wrapped around you, like you usually would, you let the towel drop to the floor. The cold air hit your skin making you shiver, but you paid no mind to it. You didn't look over at Kai, you just kept your eyes forward and head down as you tried to get your clothes on your body without any interruption.

Thank the lord Kai was worried about infecting you with some disease, he wouldn't dare try to touch you or incite some kind of activity right now. You finished pulling your shirt down on your chest, buttoned your jeans over your belly button, and slipped into some slip-on shoes before you turned to Kai, with what you hoped was a smile and not a grimace. You quickly pulled the towel from your hair, squeezing the water off as you pulled before you tossed the towels in the dirty laundry basket.

"I'm ready."

Kai grins at you. It's happy and charming. One of the smiles you used to have but no longer got from him. You would've even taken his hand to make him happier but you knew he wouldn't take it before you both tests ran. You had to suppose that his mysophobia, his fear of getting infected and sick, really made him afraid sometimes. He got ever so irrationally upset over checkups. He demanded everyone got them every three months, and he got completely irate when he saw an ill person. He was happy, grateful even that you weren't acting up at the moment. Grateful and ecstatic that you were being so submitted to him.

"Thank you."

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big1ron · 5 years ago

Text

The Venator “Resolute” had jumped right into a separatist trap. Somehow a virus infecting the main computer has scrambled the hyperspace jump coordinates, and now the companies on board were outnumbered and without reinforcements, deep in separatist space. A few last, desperate SOSs to nobody, and the ship was quickly overwhelmed with fire. The Resolute was going down. But not before each of the escape pods could be jettisoned.

————- Chapter Two: Bad Things -—————

Dogma shot the droid and tackled Jesse just a second to late, and took the bolt himself

The pain in his left side (and a little across his back) was searing. He was still breathing though, it missed anything vital. Just grazed him. He was rolled off the arc trooper to the side as the blasterfire didn’t pause for a second even though his own shot had destroyed its target. The fire didn’t last for more than a minute though, as the arc trooper disarmed and destroyed two of the droids with ease, and the medic took the last one.

That was pathetic, he couldn’t even get back up afterwards. He had taken worse than this, so why did it hurt so badly? He could barely hear what Jesse was saying, almost didn’t notice coric appear beside him.

“You di’kut! That hurt you far worse than it would have hurt me, what were you thinking!”

Right. Arc trooper. Thicker chest plate means the bolt wouldn’t have hurt him that badly

“S-sorry sir.”

Coric removed Dogmas helmet and jabbed a painkillers hypo into his neck “that was a sniper bolt, high powered. But it missed anything vital, you’ll live” Quickly moves to remove the chest plate before being stopped by Jesse

“Leave it coric”

“Jesse I dont care how much you hate him if-“

“I said leave it! This isn’t about my feelings for him. Maybe I hate him a little but he’s still my brother and I don’t want him to suffer. But we just encountered commando droids and that means there could be more around. It’s not vital you treat that but If you remove his chest plate to treat that and he gets shot again, you would be dealing with something much worse. So let’s move!”

“I- sir yes sir.”

“Kix you doing okay there buddy?” Echo turns back from the head of the group to look at kix, who is leaning much more heavily on rex now. Rex had chosen the right tunnel, they were now on the surface walking through the forest.

“I hate you... soo much echo. Plea’slow down...” they couldn’t have been walking more than a few hours but Kix looked absolutely exhausted. And he had been tripped by echo a few times now.

“I do too Kix, I do too. Echo, he’s right we should stop here for a little while, you two need some rest. DON’T annoy him in his sleep please.“

Echo takes Kix from Rex and is glared at before he can drop him. “Oh come on. Neither of you hate me, and Rex I know I’m your favourite.”

“My favourite’s Fives”

Echo gasps, offended “you take that back”

“You’re all rex’ favourite ok? Can I plea’sleep now?” Echo sighs in apparent defeat. The two settle down against a tree and once rex is sure they’re both asleep he begins watch.

Rex paces the parameter and looks back at the two vode, sleeping together. He smiles softly. They really are cute when they aren’t trying to annoy each other, or him. On the farthest corner of his loop though he hears something drop down from the trees between him and the other two. Commando droids.

They were completely unseen in the night, with their eyes not glowing like they should. They did now though, and he was surrounded as three appeared behind him. Rex immediately turn to the one centred behind him and blasts it to smithereens, diving over it and rolling to escape the others blasts. He runs in the opposite direction to echo and Kix to lure the droids away.

All four droids fall for it, they must not have noticed the two. The captain stops dead in his tracks and elbows the nearest droid in the face and shoots it with his free hand. He then throws that droid into another, knocking it over and deactivating both. He shoots a third down and has a mini heart attack when he can’t find the fourth. Is almost relieved when it springs on him from a nearby bush. He wrestles with it on the ground until he can grab his dropped blaster, and shoot it.

Rex gets up and dusts himself off. Now he just needs to get back and... which direction did he come from...?

“ECHO! KIX? WHERE ARE YOU TWO” he called but either they were to far to hear him or were to asleep to hear him.

“- But thats way to risky! There are three of us hardcase, we will be killed!”

“It’s either that or we get used to this place cause we aren’t leaving”

“There are other ways than storming into a separatist base, think with your head for once!”

“Oh don’t start that up again. I’m thinking perfectly fine, just cause your an arc trooper doesn’t make you any smarter than me”

“Yeah well maybe it gives me a little more common-

“will you two stop arguing already!?”

Hardcase and Fives both stop bickering to look at Tup. It’s the first time either of them has stopped bickering in the last few hours.

“Stop yelling at each other, it’s getting nowhere. I know you both want what’s best for the squad but you can do that without screaming at each other! Fives I know you’re and arc trooper and hardcase I know you have seniority, and I know you have conflicting ideas and opinions but following the structure of command we have to listen to fives.”

The three were walking in a single file line across a thin out pass on the side of a cliff face, heading for the summit. Fives first plan. Get a vantage point. Tups speach shut the two of them up for a little, but not long, as they started fighting again as hardcase questioned who has been put in charge by Rex more often. They didn’t hear him yelp when the rocks fell out from beneath him. He was send skidding all the way back down to the base of the cliff, which had had to have been a few hundred feet at least. He tried to grab at rocks, branches, anything he could to slow his fall but all he did was send himself rolling instead of sliding.

He landed on the ground with a thud. His head was spinning and he hardly had time to even register what had happened. He let himself lay splayed in the ground for a second before mentally checking himself over. His hair tie had snapped sometime during the fall and he would definitely be bruised in quite a few places but nothing felt broken. He pulled himself to his feet and looked back up to where they were. He couldn’t see fives or hardcase “GUYS! FIVES, HARDCASE!” He called “IM DOWN HERE!”

No response. Great. Ok. Nice.

Tup scooped up his blaster and began to search for another way up the cliff.

“HARDCASE WE LOST TUP”

“WHAT”

“HES GONE”

“HOW COULD YOU LOSE TUP!?”

“HEY I didn’t lose anyone. He just disappeared!!”

“Well where could he have gone?!”

Both turn and look down and look to eachother before fives has to grab hardcase to stop him flinging himself off the cliff

Jesse still has one pistol drawn and is on guard as his group moves down the path. Dogma had been even more quiet then later but coric assumed that was to hide the pain. Coric would keep an eye on him, he wouldn’t tell him whenever the painkillers wore off. That’s something he knew about dogma. Dogma wasn’t paying attention and tripped in some kind of animal burrow. He w t down with a small noise of distress. Coric stopped and waited for him to get up, Jesse didn’t. Dogma caught back up to the group, but the limp was noticeable. Jesse only rolled his eyes.

“Hey are you alright?” Coric asked, as if he expected any answer other than ‘fine.’

“I’m alright, doesn’t matter.”

Close enough. He kept an eye on him and the limp didn’t go away for 10 minutes so he decided to intervene.

“Hey Jesse, let’s stop. I want to check over dogma again. He’s limping”

“I’m fine coric it’s-“

Ah there it is. The ‘I’m fine’ he’s so used to hearing.

“Listen kid when a medic tells you something you listen. We’ll stop. Coric, make this as quick as possible though.”

Of course, Kix was also a medic. Jesse is just as bad as the rest of them but he’s probably heard these PSAs more than anyone.

Coric held up the medisensor and sighed

“It’s sprained. He really shouldn’t be walking on it. I won’t be able to treat it properly until we get back.”

“What? No, I can walk fine. I was just doing so, wasn’t I? Let’s get going again”

“No, you think you’re fine. If coric says you can’t, I guess you can’t.” Jesse sighs and turns to coric “I guess I’ll carry him. We can’t leave him here, and you’ve got the medpack.”

Coric’s honestly a little surprised Jesse agreed, but then he feels a little bad for underestimating Jesse. But then again he gets the feeling Jesse may actually just be playing four dimensional petty chess as well.

Having acquired Ahsoka a second bike, the two Jedi were surveying the planet right until the crack of dawn when

“Master am I crazy or do you feel what I feel?”

Anakin’s bike skids to a stop in front of a trooper laying face down in the dirt, as if that’s right where he fell

“Whatcha doing Rex? Trying to become a landform?”

The captain pulls his arms underneath him and gets up. He is almost tackled right back to the ground as he’s tackle hugged from behind. Luckily he’s caught (and also hugged from the front) by anakin.

“We missed you Rex! I was afraid you were shot down! I’m so glad you’re alive...” said ahsoka

“It’s great to see you two, sirs. But I don’t know how much longer I’ll be alive if you keep crushing me”

“Now ahsoka, please don’t kill our poor captain. He looks like he’s had a long day.” He pulls away from Rex and ahsoka does the same. “So Rex, we only have two speeders, so who do you want to ride with?”

“Uhh...” he weighed his options. On the one hand- to long. Both Jedi got that glint in their eye that meant competition and both grabbed at rex at once. Anakin pulled him towards himself before ahsoka could lay a hand on the captain.

“Alright captain, you’re riding with me. Hold on.”

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brokutosan · 5 years ago

Text

Title. Quarantine Tales Or alternatively; Bokuto Tries Baking and Nearly Poisons His Two Roommates/Best Friends

Pairing. Bokuto Koutarou x Platonic!Reader x Kuroo Tetsurou + Minor BokuAka and Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which a pandemic hits the world and tests the ten year long friendship between three roommates. Or; Kuroo enters quarantine as a cheeky bastard, and walks out of it as a cheeky bastard with a really pretty girlfriend.

Warnings. Manga spoilers, very strong language, and lots of sexual innuendos. Also lots of platonic cuddling and skinship. It gets kind of steamy at the end but nothing too bad. This is basically just a collection of short stories that also kind of has a plot. Fair warning: excessive use of the words ‘bro,’ ‘dude,’ and ‘man.’

Once the news of the pandemic hit Japan, the three roommates were confident they’d come out as better individuals. Maybe pick up on a new hobby, drop a few pounds (or in Bokuto’s case, gain some muscles), and just have a good time, making the best out of the worst situation. They were good at that.

At first, however, the three friends each had a different response to the news. Bokuto decided to splurge and buy everything they need and then some they didn’t (he was making bank from being a pro athlete). He was convinced that the apocalypse was going to happen soon, and that they’ll need all the rations they could get before it’s too late. Kuroo decides to confiscate his Netflix account and told him to stop watching The Walking Dead.

During the first few days Y/N easily got swept up in Bokuto’s bullshit, also convinced that the apocalypse was coming. (“Kuroo, look! The cases doubled over the last few days! Tell me that doesn’t mean something!”) But she was easier to snap out of it, mostly because she’s not as childish as Bokuto. She did, however, buy all of her favorite snacks and put them in a secret stash. (Although Kuroo figured out where it was within three days).

Kuroo is the mediator between them. He’s a man of science, so “no, Bokuto, there’s no way the infected ones are turning into zombies, now stop crying!” He also took the liberty to create schedules and laid out some ground rules on when and how they should shop for groceries and things of that sort. He also made the rule that no one joins their Zoom meetings in the living room after Bokuto walked in on his screen ass naked.

All in all, they (Kuroo) were able to set up a system that ensured Bokuto doesn’t lose his mind out of boredom and Y/N doesn’t try to kill them in their sleep.

“If aliens take over the planet do you think I could become their overlord?”

“Doubt it. You need to have the brains for it.”

“Hey! I’m pretty smart!”

“Explain the process of osmosis.”

“Fuck you, Kuroo.”

Y/N listens in on the idiotic conversation between her two roommates, not daring to speak up in fear of losing her much needed brain cells.

“Y/N! Listen to this, Kuroo doesn’t think I’m smart enough to become an alien overlord!” Bokuto sits up from his spot on their living room floor, one elbow propped up to support his body. Y/N sighs, closing her book realizing there’s no way she’ll get the peace she needed.

“Kuroo doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Bo.” It’s only been one week since the mandated quarantine started. If Y/N gives in now, then she’ll only spiral into madness as the months go by.

“Hear that, you bastard?! Y/N-chan believes in me!” Kuroo looks unamused. There’s a shit eating grin on his face that Y/N wants to wipe off. Or punch off. Whichever happens first.

“Y’know what they say, owls of a feather stick together.” Kuroo’s probably referring to the fact that both Y/N and Bokuto attended Fukurodani. Either way, he’s insulting her. Y/N is seething.

“Shut up you cocky cat!” Y/N screeches, flinging her book to his relaxed figure on the floor. Kuroo lets out a groan as the hardcover book makes contact with his groin. “Shit, there goes my future generations.”

Bokuto emphasizes with his bro, placing a protective hand over his ‘lil man.’

During the third week of quarantine, Kuroo comes down with a cold. Or maybe he got the virus. That’s what Bokuto and Y/N are currently trying to figure out.

“Kuroo, man, I searched up your symptoms here and it says you have network connectivity problems. What does that mean?” Bokuto grumbles, aggressively tapping the laptop screen. Y/N scowls at the way he’s manhandling her laptop before snatching it away from his hold.

“That’s not what that means, dumbass.” Bokuto pouts. “It means someone fucking forgot to pay for the wifi for this month.”

Y/N is glaring at her bedridden roommate through her face mask, but the rooster head throws his hands up out of innocence. “Sorry, I was too busy trying not to die!”

“So what now?” Bokuto asks, trying to cut through the tension between his two roommates. Y/N sighs in response, shutting off her laptop. “Now we just have to wait for him to sleep it off. If he has the virus then we burn his room with him in it.”

“Hey!” Kuroo tries to object. Instead what comes out is a garbled noise followed by excessive coughing and Bokuto screeching something about the ‘zombie virus infecting his home,’ and then he bolted out of Kuroo’s room.

“Whatever,” Y/N sighs, knowing Bokuto would have been useless in this situation anyways, “just try to rest. I’ll come in to check on you every now and then to bring you food. You better eat it!”

“Aw, Y/N-chan, you really care about me, huh?” Kuroo fake gushes, pressing one hand on his chest and another on his forehead. “It’s sweet how you try to act all tough.”

“Bo! Go find the lighter!”

Six weeks into the quarantine, Kuroo is over his ‘virus scare’ and now it’s Bokuto who’s sick. Correction, lovesick. It’s starting to test Y/N’s thinning patience.

“Do you think ‘Kaashi would get annoyed if I call him again?”

“Bo, you’ve been facetiming him every single day since this quarantine started. What changed?”

“He hasn’t been messaging me back the last three days! Do you think he got tired of me? Do you think he realized I’ve been in love with him and now he hates me? Do you think he hates my owl memes? Damn, I should’ve just told him before this whole thing started.” Y/N snorts. Clearly. One less headache for her. Even the sight of Kuroo breathing is starting to irk her. One time she nearly slapped him across the head for sleeping on the couch. Quarantine is doing something to her.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you answering? Oh my god, you hate me too, don’t you?” Crap. She was too absorbed in her hatred towards Kuroo’s existence that she forgot this big baby was lying down on her lap crying about something. What was it again? Akaashi hates him? Impossible.

“Impossible.” Y/N doesn’t realize she is running her hand through his two-toned hair. Bokuto hums in content. Y/N is suddenly reminded of her dog from back home. She wonders how he’s doing.

“Keiji’s like, in love with you. If anything he’s probably just drowning in work. You know how busy he gets.” Even Y/N’s not buying it. Busy or not, three days of radio silence from Akaashi has to mean something. She just doesn’t want to deal with an emo Bokuto. She decides to pass the responsibility to Kuroo.

“Bo, I bet Kuroo has some pretty good advice for ya. Remember when he had that crush on Akari-chan for all of highschool?” Bokuto shoots up with a new look of determination. He yells out a ‘you’re the best, Y/N-chan!’ over his shoulders before dashing straight to Kuroo’s room.

Y/N smiles in triumph as she receives a plethora of messages from one very angry Kuroo Tetsurou, ranging from ‘Why would you do this to me?’ to ‘I fucking hate you.’ Serves him right for finishing the ice cream.

(Later they find out that Akaashi simply broke his phone and had to wait three days to get it fixed. Bokuto was over the moon).

Sometimes Y/N wears their highschool jerseys because she thinks they’re comfortable. Some days she wears Bokuto’s. Other days she wears Kuroo’s. Today she’s wearing Bokuto’s, and Kuroo doesn’t know why it’s pissing him off.

“Oh man! That thing looks like a dress on you!” Bokuto squeals like one of his fangirls. He dashes to where she is, minding her business making toast in the kitchen, and picks her up from under her arms a la Lion King style.

“Bo! Put me down, you dumbass!” She wiggles in his hold, legs thrashing around. It’s all meaningless though. Bokuto is a pro athlete and is 190cm. Any attempts to free herself remains futile against this giant man-baby.

“Kuroo, look! So cute!” Bokuto gushes, showing her off like a baby. He lightly loosens his hold on one arm and extends his hand to bring a finger up to her cheeks. Y/N is emitting a strange aura. Kuroo suspects she’ll start tearing his ass into pieces within ten seconds.

Correction, three seconds. Because somehow she figures out how to kick behind her and shove an ankle deep into Bokuto’s groin. Now Bokuto is wriggling around on the living room floor as Y/N returns to her toast.

Kuroo finds this amusing, yet there’s a foreign feeling deep inside his chest. Is he getting sick again? He’s gonna need to check on that later.

“Ou! What ‘ya watching?”

“Your Name.”

“Huh? Bokuto Koutarou. Did you forget?”

“Dude...” Y/N stares at him in disbelief. Bokuto doesn’t notice but that’s because he’s Bokuto, and just about everything flies over his head. Instead he plops down on the couch next to her and hogs all the blanket.

“Get the fuck out! Get your own blanket!” Bokuto doesn’t reply, but he hums and opens his arms as an invitation. Ah, another platonic cuddling, as Bokuto puts it. Y/N is touch starved and she can’t deny it, so she slides closer to his lean figure and lets her head fall on his chest.

Eventually they settle in, huddling impossibly close to each other as the movie reach its tear-jerking climax. They don’t notice Kuroo walk in with a scowl on his face.

“Oh hey, bro. Wanna watch?” Bokuto notices him first, lifting his head up from the crown of Y/N’s head. Y/N finally looks over Bokuto’s chest and spots Kuroo moving around in the kitchen.

“I’m good.” Is his short answer before he trudges to his room with a loud bang! from his door. Y/N flinches a little, but pays no mind to it. Instead she directs her focus back to the movie, where another sad scene is unfolding.

The movie reaches its ending, but not before Bokuto could ask, “So, what’s the actual title of the movie?”

One peaceful afternoon Bokuto decides to take in a stray cat. Except...

“Bokuto, you fucking idiot that’s a racoon!” Y/N screeches as she climbs Kuroo’s back. The rooster head screams as he backs away from Bokuto and ‘Mr. Fluffles.’ Bokuto stares at his frightened roommates and the ‘cat’ in his hand and then back at his roommates again.

Realization strikes, and now Bokuto is screeching with the other two, holding the raccoon as far away from his body as possible.

“If you fucking drop it, I’ll kill you!” Kuroo threatens, holding onto Y/N’s arm that’s starting to dig into his throat. “Take it outside!”

“But it’s raining!”

“Bokuto!”

“It’s you or him, man!”

The two continue their little back-and-forth, not noticing the raccoon had escaped Bokuto’s grasp. But Y/N notices. And it’s heading into her room. And now she’s seeing God.

“Bokuto, gah-!” Kuroo is rudely interrupted by Y/N’s tight hold on his throat getting tighter. Before he could give her hell for attempted murder, he notices the look of horror on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Your fucking raccoon went in my bedroom!”

“Ah shit!” Both Kuroo and Bokuto scramble, the former forgetting all about the human person hanging onto his back. Said person is too scared of letting her foot touch the floor, afraid that it might be met by the furry abomination Bokuto brought home. So she kinda just...lets Kuroo run off into her room with her dangling off his neck.

“Where’d he go?!” Bokuto panics, not seeing Mr. Fluffles anywhere in his immediate vicinity. He starts flinging stuff off the ground and her table and her bed, making a huge mess in the span of ten seconds. Y/N takes one foot off of Kuroo’s waist and kicks him square in the back.

“Quit trashing my room!” She scolds like a mom. Bokuto pouts but continues looking, until they hear the quiet pitter patter of claws hitting the wooden floor. “Wait shut up!”

Y/N huffs but still complies, wanting nothing more than Mr. Fluffles gone from her room. Kuroo takes the liberty to start questioning Bokuto’s stupidity.

“How could you have possibly thought that thing was a fucking cat?!”

“In my defense, it was pretty dark outside.” Bokuto grumbles in his low and whiny voice, before firing back, “And stop calling him a ‘thing!’ Mr. Fluffles has feelings too!”

“Bokuto we’re not keeping it!” This time it’s Y/N yelling at him with fire in her eyes. The poor guy looks like he’s about to cry, but Y/N is far too gone over the thought of a raccoon making its home in her bedroom.

Bokuto lets out an ‘aha!’ as he emerges from under her bed with Mr. Fluffles. Y/N visibly relaxes knowing that the raccoon is safely contained. Until she remembers what was stashed under her bed.

“Ah, there’s something in his mouth.” Bokuto announces, holding Mr. Fluffles disgustingly close to his face. Her secret stash of snacks. The bastard got into it.

“Bokuto!!!”

(They later find out that at least four neighbors filed a noise complaint against them).

It’s two months in to the quarantine when Bokuto discovers TikTok. Within one week he’s dropped his towel in front of Kuroo, sat on Kuroo’s lap during his work Zoom meeting, smacked his gym bag across Kuroo’s face, and then some. Y/N finds humor in this, of course at Kuroo’s expense, but that’s even better.

Speaking of Kuroo and Y/N. Lately there’s been undeniable tension between his two roommates, and Bokuto doesn’t know how to resolve it. Everytime he tries to get them to talk they end up arguing.

He’s asked Akaashi for advice, but Akaashi simply told him to let them resolve it amongst themselves. Bokuto does not have the patience for that. He’s scared their meaningless arguments might rip a tear into their ten year long friendship.

So Bokuto does what he thinks is best, bake them cookies! No one could possibly be in a bad mood while eating freshly baked cookies, even Bokuto is drooling at the thought. So with a new resolve, Bokuto scrolls through his new favorite app (TikTok) to find some good recipes. Because TikTok has all the answers.

Except when he bakes the cookies he later finds out he used two cups of salt instead of sugar. He doesn’t know how that happened, but it could be because he grabbed the first white substance he saw and dumped it in the bowl.

Kuroo and Y/N somehow found a way to blame each other. Bokuto is reaching his limits.

Bokuto calls for an emergency meeting. He needs help deciding whether or not he should drop 40,000¥ on the Animal Crossing Limited Edition Switch that comes with Animal Crossing: New Horizons.

Y/N says go for it because she’s secretly plotting on stealing it the moment he gets tired of the game (which knowing Bokuto, would be fairly quick). Kuroo objects because Bokuto blew 50,000¥ last month buying shit he didn’t need for the quarantine.

And now there’s a fullblown argument between the two. Bokuto is reminded of his parents, except their fights never got this hostile and he’s pretty sure his mom never called his dad a “rooster-hair bastard!” He’s too scared to cut in. He thinks they might cut off his head. So he decides to sneakily crawl back into his room.

He ends up ordering the switch anyways, and when it arrives a week later Kuroo calls Y/N a bad influence. They argue again.

Bokuto has an epiphany.

Two days after Bokuto’s epiphany, they take a trip to the supermarket. Bokuto wants to drive but he can’t because his license got revoked after he ran through five consecutive red lights. Kuroo tells him this but he gets pouty so Kuroo had to buy him ice cream on the way there to get him to shut up.

So now Bokuto is slobbering up Kuroo’s car, much to the latter’s distaste. It isn’t until Kuroo brake checks him and Bokuto slams the ice cream on his face, does Kuroo show a look of content. Bokuto pays no mind, and decides to bring up his recent epiphany.

“So, bro, when are ya gonna tell Y/N you’re in love with her?” Kuroo slams his foot on the brakes again, this time out of shock. “I - uh - what - what did you just say?”

“Oh man,” Bokuto lets out a boisterous laugh while licking the ice cream that dripped down his shirt (gross), “you didn’t know?!”

“You two have had this sexual tension between you brewing for weeks! It’s like - I could actually cut through it with a knife, like a piece of pie or something!”

“I hate everything you just said.”

“Whatever man, just let me know if you want me gone for the night. I’ll even come up with a good excuse.” He winks, and Kuroo resists the urge to crash the car into a tree.

Bokuto’s words affect Kuroo a lot more than he would like to admit. Ever since that fateful trip to the supermarket with his owl-eyed friend, Kuroo’s been too wary of his other roommates existence. He wants to prove Bokuto wrong. He, Kuroo Tetsurou, is not in love with L/N Y/N, his best friend since his first year of highschool.

L/N Y/N is one of the guys! That’s like saying he likes Bokuto (Kuroo bites back his disgust). And Kuroo doesn’t like Bokuto, thank you very much.

Except L/N Y/N is not Bokuto.

L/N Y/N is his endless highschool memories that he always goes back to on a bad day. She is going to the beach during the summer and playing in the ocean until they tire themselves out. She’s like a warm hug that welcomes him after a long and tiring say. She’s like the rock that was flung at his ex’s window after she cheated on him with some other guy. She’s like the fun he’s had during the summer away games, where he got to play volleyball with his friends for one week straight. She’s like taking the long way home just so he could walk back with her. L/N Y/N is his best friend.

No, Y/N is not all those things. She is, however, the person he’s shared those memories with. The person Kuroo could say one hundred percent, without a doubt, knows him best (aside from Bokuto and maybe his mom). She’s the person that’s always been there through thick or thin, for ten years and counting.

Oh god. Kuroo Tetsurou is in love with L/N Y/N.

Bokuto has a plan in mind. A plan to help his two best friends hook up (and maybe date afterwards). Bokuto tells Akaashi his plans but Akaashi tells him all his plans are moronic, so he goes to his teammates Hinata and Atsumu, who says he’s a genius.

(The plan is simple: make Kuroo jealous. That bastard is as possessive as a dog over his food).

Which is how he finds himself seated at the kitchen table, phone in hand with a disgusted Y/N right across from him.

“No, you’re not giving my number to Miya Atsumu. That guy has shifty eyes!”

“Come on, you’ll learn how to love it! ‘Sides, Tsumu-tsumu is a nice guy! Did’ya really think I’d set my bestest friend in the world up with some sketchy guy?” If Bokuto’s normal talking voice is at a hundred, he’s talking at a hundred twenty now, just to make sure Kuroo can hear him from his room.

Y/N presses her palms to her ears, not really questioning why he’s talking so damn loud. Instead she blackmails him. “Bokuto if you don’t stop I’ll send Keiji all your embarrassing pictures from our first year.”

“You wouldn’t!”

But the look in her eyes says she would. And the ping! sound that came from her phone says that she just did. “Y/N!” Bokuto cries out, scrambling incredibly fast to his room where he left his phone plugged in, hoping he could stop Akaashi from witnessing the embarrassment that is Bokuto Koutarou as a fifteen year old.

Moments after Bokuto bolted to his room and is screaming out, “‘Kaashi! Block Y/N-chan right now! Don’t open her texts!” Kuroo steps out of his bedroom, having been shamelessly eavesdropping on their previous conversation.

“So,” He leans over the kitchen counter (he thinks he looks like hot shit but Y/N begs to differ), “Miya Atsumu, huh?” Her face contorts into something out of digust or discomfort, he can’t tell which one. Is it bad for him to say he likes that reaction? Probably.

“Don’t.” Is her short response, bringing up a hand in front of her body. “If Bokuto thinks I’m desperate enough to go for one of his teammates, then I’ve got a surprise for him. No offense to Shouyou.”

“So what I’m hearing is...it’s not the aspect of being in a relationship you’re totally against, but the guy himself?” Kuroo thinks out loud. Y/N throws him one of her infamous ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about’ looks, but he feigns ignorance to it.

“I mean, yeah? I haven’t had a good fuck since-” Kuroo decides to cut her off there, not really eager to learn the name of the man she’s...well, you get it! (Bokuto was right, this man truly is possessive).

“Anyways, good choice. I heard the other twin is where it’s at.” Kuroo ends the conversation there, with new knowledge about his new found crush and confidence over the fact that he still has a chance.

A week goes by just like that. Bokuto makes it painfully obvious he’s trying to make Kuroo jealous. Except painfully obvious is not obvious enough for his slightly-frustrating friend, Y/N.

At one point, when obviously Atsumu didn’t serve much of a threat to Kuroo (curse that idiot for being too easy to mock), Bokuto took matters into his own hands and tried flirting with Y/N himself. And while Bokuto is a lot of things, being smooth isn’t one of them. There’s a reason why he hasn’t made whatever he has with Akaashi official yet, he’s terrible at relationships and anything related to it.

(Though Kuroo had a riot witnessing Bokuto’s failed attempts at heterosexual flirting:

“So, you come here often?”

“Bo, I fucking live here.”).

And as much as Bokuto wants to just go out with it and announce to Y/N (and the world) that his totally radical bro, Kuroo Tetsurou, is in love with her, he has just about enough self control and conscience to know that doing that could only result in his immediate death at the hands of a very angry rooster-head. So he’s just been beating around the bush. For a week he’s tried to drop subtle hints that were, sadly, left dropped by Y/N. She’s almost as helpess as Bokuto. Almost.

But when an opportunity like this falls on his lap, Bokuto just knows he has to take it.

It’s at one of their annual roommate-bonding, a tradition they’ve held since moving in together during college. This time Kuroo is unable to join due to some hold-up at work. He’s in his room furiously typing away at his computer.

“So...” He makes sure to drag out the last vowel to gain her interest. Though it’s pretty useless since Y/N is as easy to fool as Bokuto himself. They’re best friends for a reason. A very bad reason, one might say.

“So what?” She asks, shoving about ten pieces of popcorn in her mouth all at once. Bokuto realizes he is tired of beating around the bush. He decides to set the metaphorical bush on fire. “Admit it, Y/N. You like Kuroo, don’t ‘ya? You wanna screw him or something?”

“Shh!” Suddenly Y/N is more invested in whatever Bokuto has to say than the shitty movie he picked out. And now she’s launched herself off her side of the couch onto his, pressing a greasy, buttery palm to his lips.

Bokuto easily swipes her hand away with a shit eating grin on his face. “So I was right! Which one is it? ‘Ya like him? Or you wanna screw him?”

“Bokuto!” She warns. Her eyes dart to Kuroo’s closed bedroom door, suddenly too aware of just now thin these walls actually are. It also didn’t help that Bokuto’s normal speaking voice is about as loud as a race car engine.

She realizes there’s no point in hiding it, since he’s looking at her with those creepy owl eyes, just daring her not to spill everything. “How’d you even find out?” She sighs in defeat.

“Come on! You’ve been so irritated lately that there was only two possible explanations: ya either love the guy or hate his guts. I don’t think you’d be friends with him for ten years if you hated him so much.” Y/N blinks in surprise. That’s surprisingly perceptive, coming from Bokuto. She tells him this.

“Hey! I’m capable of using my head too!” He doesn’t like how she’s giving him that judgement look. Clearing his throat, Bokuto decides to skip past that.

“So? Since when did ‘ya like the lucky bastard?” Bokuto expects one month, maybe two at best. What he didn’t expect was this: “Probably since highschool.”

“Wha-?!” His outburst is contained by a smaller body flying on top of his, as well as two palms pressed tightly over his mouth. Eyes wide, he looks down to see a flustered Y/N, pink cheeks and all, looking menacingly at Kuroo’s door, trying to see if he heard any of that.

Once she confirms she’s in the clear, she lets out the breath she’s been holding and smacks Bokuto across his biceps.

“Idiot! Don’t just scream like that!” She huffs, arms crossed at her chest. “I told you ‘cus I trust you, Bo. Don’t do anything stupid with that trust.” The man simply nods, still too shocked to form coherent words.

Once he does however, Y/N is hit with an onslaught of whispered questions. “Since when? How come I didn’t notice? How come anyone didn’t notice? Why-” He pauses, realizing his questions aren’t being answered. So he waits as she brings her legs up to her chest with an unreadable expression.

“I mean it was pretty easy to hide it. We went to different schools, and whenever we hung out you were always there,” Y/N starts, but quickly adds, “I mean, not like I didn’t want you there! It’s just - it was easier to forget I even liked him whenever the three of us were together.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, probably still wary of the fact that Kuroo was only one room over. Bokuto notices this and turns up the volume of the TV, earning a small smile from his nervous wreck of a friend.

“At one point I was actually gonna tell him, but then he started dating Akari-chan.” Bokuto scowls at the name. Akari, the girl that Kuroo crushed on for a full year, but also the girl that ended up cheating on him with some guy in her painting club. “I wasn’t really the type to cry over a small crush, I had other things to do. Actually I was kind of relieved. Kuroo being taken meant I didn’t have to act on these weird feelings I started having.”

“And next thing I knew we were off to college. I started dating other people, and my feelings for him started shrinking. Even when we decided to move in together, we were all so busy with our separate lives, so I wasn’t really worried about it...until, y’know, we kinda got stuck here together. I guess seeing him 24/7 just caused my head to malfunction. I thought fighting with him would stop these weird...feelings, from coming back. But I guess that backfired on me since you ended up finding out. Wait - Bokuto are you crying?”

The said man tucks his head in his arms, mumbling out “No,” even though it was pretty obvious. Y/N softly smiles, finding his reaction kind of cute. It was nice to know he cares that much, no matter how infuriating he could get.

“I didn’t even know you went through that much, Y/N-chan. C’mere! Lemme give you a hug!”

“Bokuto, no! I don’t need-” The rest of her complaints are drowned out by a sturdy chest meeting her face. Great. Bokuto’s way too emotional now.

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll help you tell him!”

“Wait what? I don’t want that!” Y/N tries to argue, but her voice is muffled due to being stuffed into his chest. Suddenly remembering that Bokuto has a tendency to be a loud mouth and could never keep a secret from Kuroo, Y/N shoots up, pressing her palms to his chest to release herself from his hold.

“Bo, you have to promise me you won’t tell him anything.”

“But -”

“Bokuto!” He slightly recoils from the sternness of her voice, before he bows his head and nods. Y/N relaxes a bit, settling back into her previous position and fixed her focus back to the movie playing on the TV as if their previous conversation never happened.

Unbeknownst to her, Bokuto is already putting the pieces together for his master plan.

Y/N comes to regret telling Bokuto her ‘dirty’ little secret exactly one week later, at their next roommate-bonding. This time Kuroo is there, with Bokuto right in between them on the couch. There’s another shitty movie playing in the background (curtesy of Bokuto’s horrible choice in films), but Y/N can’t bring herself to pay attention.

She does however, snap out of her little daydream when Bokuto shoots up, phone in hand and reaching for the door. Oh no. Both Kuroo and Y/N think to themselves.

“Ah! What’s this?! There’s an emergency at ‘Kaashi’s apartment?! Guys, I’ll be right back!” Bokuto is out the door before either of them could object. Y/N knows Akaashi. Akaashi is a safe guy. He’s not the type to call out of nowhere because of an emergency, and even if he did, Bokuto surely would not be the first contact in mind. Which means, Bokuto, that sneaky bastard, planned this with the single brain cell he had left.

Silence fills the air for the next five minutes, until Kuroo’s phone sounds off. It’s a text from Bokuto, reading: When I come back you two better be-

Kuroo decides to turn off his phone there, fearing the contents of the very explicit paragraph Bokuto sent following those words. Instead he turns his head to his friend next to him - or rather on the opposite side of the couch, avoiding him like he’s the plague.

He doesn’t like this awkwardness at all. Conversation between them used to always just flow, even if most of them end up becoming a heated debate over the most trivial things. Kuroo decides to man up. It’s now or never.

“Okay so -” “Hey -” The two pause, finally making eye contact for the first time in past week. All of Kuroo’s brain cells fly out his brain and out the window, leaving him to fend off for himself in this awkward situation. His head is like that one Spongebob meme. Oh god, he’s turning into Bokuto-

“So,” Y/N’s voice snaps him out of his train of thoughts, or rather his lack of it. This is pathetic. He’s a grown man and he’s acting like a highschooler over a pathetic crush. Except this isn’t a pathetic crush. This is Y/N - his best friend for the past ten years, who he’s just now realized is a lot prettier than he initially thought.

“I’m in love with you.” Yes, yes he is. Wait, that wasn’t his voice. And that definitely wasn’t his subconscious trying to patch up what’s left of his decimated ego, which means -

“Kuroo?” Jesus fuck, when did she even slide over this close? “You don’t have to answer or anything, I just thought I should tell you first before Bokuto breaks. I understand if you don’t feel the same way-”

“No!” She flinches at how loud his voice is. “I mean, fuck - wait. You gotta let me process this real quick.” Kuroo is suddenly aware he’s redder than his Nekoma jersey, and her face is super close to his, and her lips look totally kissable right now.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Kuroo finally speaks up. He notices how she goes stiff, and how quickly her face turns into a bright shade of red.

“You don’t have to say it just ‘cus you feel bad! This doesn’t have to change anything between us! I mean, I’ve kept it a secret for ten years, I can do ten more-”

“Y/N.” She finally stops her rambling, meeting his eyes. And she doesn’t know why, but suddenly she just knows he’s being sincere. She could probably die right now and she’d say she lived a happy life.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Kuroo waits for her confirmation, in this case a shy nod, before cupping her cheeks with his large and warm hands. He inches over slowly at first, but lets his lips eagerly meet hers with a smile. He feels her hands wrap around his waist, letting him deepen the kiss.

It starts of slow and steady, everything Y/N could have ever dreamed of, until needy hands start roaming her body. She has to crane her neck to meet his lips, and Kuroo probably sensed her discomfort because now he’s gripping her waist tightly, lifting her up gently and placing her down on his lap.

The new and more comfortable position allows Kuroo to deepen the kiss, and Y/N finds her hands grabbing the hair she’s been insulting so much for the past two months. Kuroo sighs into the kiss, with Y/N smiling a bit at the situation. As things escalate, a loud gasp breaks them out of their trance.

“Oh. My. God!” Bokuto is squealing like an idiot and Akaashi is behind him unamused. “Finally.” Is his short statement.

“What the fuck Bokuto!” Kuroo growls. Y/N, suddenly a bit too self conscious climbs off the spot she made for herself on Kuroo’s lap. Though her embarrassment doesn’t last long, before she joins Kuroo in glaring at Bokuto.

“I just came back ‘cus I forgot my wallet, but oh man! You guys are adorable!” Akaashi is still behind him, but this time he looks more apologetic. “Bokuto-san, maybe we should leave.”

“Nah, I kinda wanna stay.”

“Bokuto!”

“Get the fuck out!” Bokuto only laughs as he catches both the pillow and the remote control thrown at him. He drops both items back down on the living room floor and snatches his wallet from the counter before calling over his shoulders,

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure ya make me the best man and the maid of honor!”

A/N. Reupload! This fic was totally self-indulgent bc I am so bored of quarantine and am currently wishing I had a Bokuto and Kuroo to keep me entertained. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And as always, thank you for reading! Leave a like if you...liked it? Is that how it goes? - chuu

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