#& i also got evicted today
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day 83, things have been tired as of late- here's a rendog to show that
and a closeup
#sometimesrd#renthedog#rendog#rendog fanart#sorry for the radio silence#life has been Generally hectic (among other things) recently. so its been hard to get anything out art-wise#& i also got evicted today#there's just a lot happening#im hoping things ease up soon though. ive missed drawing the dog#we persist either way though of course#currently standing in the waves as the diggity dog would describe#just gotta let it roll over
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❝ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? (THIS CAN'T END) ❞


ೃ⁀➷ you and kuroo have liked been friends since forever (highschool), but unfortunately, you both are too stupid to realize your feelings for one another. Until you do.
ꨄ︎ paring(s)! kuroo tetsurou x vball player afab!reader , slight sakusa x reader , slight kuroo x oc
ꨄ︎ warnings/content! 18+ content , timeskip! characters , fluff , humor , mutual pinning but both are stupid , friends to lovers , kuroo blabs , semi slow build up , tension , lots of emotions , slight insecure!reader , porn with plot (plot kinda wack) , kinda dom!kuroo , big dick!kuroo , dirty talk , kuroo is kinda a tease , oral ( f&m receiving) , fingering , slight boob play , unprotected sex , multiple orgasms , missionary → mating press (i think that's what its called idk) , not proof read at all LMFAO
ꨄ︎ word count! 26k+ (whoops)
ꨄ︎ author's note! hiii first post to tumblr lol :3 , this def went on longer than I intended (i got carried away whoops) , semi first time writing smut so pls be nice , if any of my tags r wrong feel free to correct me!! the spacing is also a little weird since I uploaded this from computer but I might go back in and fix it laatter ! hope u enjoy and sorry for the wait lol , i ended up in the hospital and got evicted (double whammy) but ayyee its here now !!
11 years ago. April 13th, 2013.
You throw your bag over your shoulder after unloading everything from the trunk of Kuroo’s car. Once the space is clean, he closes the trunk with a gentle thud, breaking the silence of the cool morning, and turns to you to ask, “Is that everything?”
You nod looking down at your luggage and counting while trying to fix the twisted trap of your bag on your shoulder that apparently refuses to cooperate. You fumble with it, frustration building up as you mutter under your breath, “Ugh, why won’t you just…?”
Kuroo laughs as he watches you, he steps closer and reaches out, fixing the strap for you in a fluid motion. It slaps against the hoodie you’re wearing and his fingers graze your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.
‘There you go princess,” he says, a soft smile playing on his lips. His touch lingers for a moment longer than necessary before he removes them.
“Thanks, Kuroo,” you say, kicking your feet at the ground. The reality of your situation hasn’t settled in yet and now the moment feels a bit awkward. You pull at the drawstrings of Kuroo’s hoodie, seeking familiarity in it to try and tide your feelings. Your eyes glance over the car, he had only gotten it recently, a gift from his dad for making it into college yet it already held so many of your memories.
The time he spilled coffee on Bokuto during a road trip, when he almost crashed everybody arguing with Bokuto over directions, that one-time Kenma lost a Pokemon game disc resulting in three of you almost riping his car apart to look for it, him nearly running over Komori and Sakusa, Akaashi cursing him out silently for his interesting driving skills, the late night conversations and the silent drives where words weren’t needed, just his presence was enough.
You look back up at him again, everything you want to say gets caught up in your throat, so you have to settle. “I’m going to miss everyone,” you whisper, a lump forming in your throat. The stupid late-night convenience runs, group dinners, and weekend adventures ran through your mind, seeming like nothing but a distant memory. The thought of leaving all that behind weighs heavy on you and at this moment you wonder if you're making the right choice.
You’d been given an offer to join the u19 team, to represent Japan and play other girls around your age who were equally as talented as you were. An opportunity that anybody in your position would kill for, yet as you stand here right now, slight dread courses through you.
The team is leaving for Brazil today to train and practice, and you wonder if there's still time to change your mind. You love the sport, ever since Kuroo helped you find the joy in it again but leaving everything behind, even if just for a while, feels more daunting than ever.
Kuroo notices the look on your face. The way your eyes dart everywhere and the way you fold your lip underneath your teeth, something you always do when you're nervous. He playfully flicks your forehead, causing you to wince and frown at him, “Stop overthinking. You’re gonna do great, just like you always do. And after you win everything, you’ll be back before you know it.”
You give him another shake, trying to absorb all this faith he has in you and the reassurance, but the small piece of doubt still lingers. The entire tournament will only last a few months after the remainder of training and you know you’ll be back once everything is over, but those months seem too long.
He reaches out to take your hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of it. “I know you’re scared,” he says softly. “It’s okay to be scared. It means you care, and that’s what makes you, you. And I think that’s my favorite part of you.”
Water starts to build up in the corner of your eyes, you try to blink the tears away ultimately failing and ending up quickly wiping them off instead. Not wanting to cry in front of Kuroo again like you did this morning when he found you cuddled up in your bed, not packed at all. “It’s just… what if I can’t do it? What if I fail? I don’t want to be the reason we have to go home early.”
Kuroo pulls you closer, enveloping you in a hug, one that feels like he’s shielding you away from the world. His arms wrap around you tightly, inhaling deeply, like he’s committing the feel and scent of you to memory. “Listen to me,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’ve already accomplished so much to get here. This is just a small step, one that you’re more than prepared for. You aren’t going to be the reason the team gets sent home. And no matter what happens, you have people here that believe in you.”
The words settle into your soul, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves. You return the hug, squeezing him close like he might disappear if you don’t hold him hard enough, you want to remember this feeling and keep him close forever. The fear is still there, but it feels less like your impending doom and more simply like nerves.
“You’re going to be here when I come back right?” you ask him, pulling back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes. The sight makes Kuroo melt, he takes a hand that was wrapped around your waist to run a hair through your hair in another soothing manner.
“I would hope so,” you pinch his side and he yelps. “Ow!”
“Don’t tease me right now,” a scowl reaches your face and Kuroo lets out a throaty laugh. A warm smile spreads across his face, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you. Next time I’ll drag Kenma out of bed so he can come join. Oh, and I’ll even invite Bokuto and Akaashi too.”
“Please don’t. Bokuto said he was going to bring a cardboard cut out of my face if I invited him.”
“I know. I saw it.”
A chuckle escapes Kuroo’s lips as you pull back, there's a buzz in your pocket and you dig out your phone only to be met with a bunch of notifications from the team’s group chat. Almost everybody was there, only four players not including you hadn’t made it yet, tucking it back in you look at Kuroo, who’s smiling contently at you.
It was probably time for you to leave now, in case some huge rush comes in and you get stuck in a long line, but you have one more question for him, one that you’ve been itching to ask for no reason other than to test something.
“Hey, Kuroo?” you call, gathering his attention. “Yes?”
“What is it like to fall in love?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Heart beating with both anticipation and fear, with hope that he might just tell you what you’re hoping to hear.
The question pierces through him like an arrow, he freezes, confused about why you're asking him that. The question hangs in the air, so thick, that the two of you feel like you are suffocating. Kuroo takes a deep breath and looks away searching for an answer that will suffice. You notice a flicker in his eyes– something unreadable.“I don’t know.”
“Never experienced it.”
A wave of disappointment crashes over you. His answer is polite, almost feels like it’s been rehearsed, but you can sense something is off. His entire tone was off, it shifted to one you know he uses when he’s lying you think. Why does it feel like he's holding something back?
Does Kuroo like somebody? That you don’t know about yet?
The idea hurts, more than the idea of him not liking you back.
You force a smile, trying to mask your disappointment. “Never mind then,” you wave it off with a laugh that sounds hollow to your own ears. “I was just wondering. I wanted some advice that’s all.”
Now it’s his turn to furrow his brows, Kuroo wants to know what you meant? Seeking advice, for what? Is there someone he doesn’t know about?
You watch as something flickers in his eyes but it’s gone before you can truly grasp it. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it, the words seemingly lost.
The moment feels heavy, pregnant with unspoken emotions and missed connections. It’s as if you're both standing on the edge of an abyss, teetering but afraid of falling. “You should probably go catch your flight.”
He tells you and you realize that a silly amount of time has passed and that he was right, you do need to leave. A part of you wishes that he’d give you something more, more of who it was he’s thinking about, or even a tiny spark that he might like you, but that idea feels more distant now than ever and hope is a fragile thing, and right now, it feels too breakable to cradle.
“Take care, okay. Promise me,” you say, voice as steady as anybody’s who feels like her heart is hurting.
“I promise,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours. “You take care as well okay? Text me when you land and if you need anything. And come back with stories to tell, for me– Bokuto.”
“I will,” you force a smile, grabbing onto the handles of your luggage, and gathering everything together. You turn to leave, and the path ahead is clear, more clear than ever now, except there's a tinge in your heart. Kuroo doesn’t like you, and that’s clear enough.
He watches you go, you turn around one last time to smile and wave and this time he can tell it’s not forced. He wishes the words didn’t get jumbled in his head, that he actually knew what he felt and Kuroo lets out a shaky breath watching you go. He wonders if things would be different if he knew, and maybe then you wouldn’t be asking him for advice for another guy.
Instead, he tells himself that love is patient, that he will wait for you, even if you never return to him.
As you enter the airport, all you can think is what a lucky girl she is.
And all he can think is how he’s going to murder this guy.
Today had to be perfect.
It was his first time being somewhat in charge of helping to host an event of this size, and god, is Kuroo thankful for his department. He doesn’t know if he could have pulled all this off by himself.
He moves through the expensive hall, eye-catching every detail he can. The venue was a hive of activity, the final touches had been put in place for what was shaping up to be an unforgettable night. This wasn't just any party; this was the prelude to the 2024 Olympics, and Kuroo was there to help, orchestrate an event that would celebrate Japan's proudest athletic traditions and its most promising future stars.
And also, several of the higher board members of the JVA would be making an appearance, so everything had to be proper and to exact perfection. The thought of it alone was making him jittery.
Guests were already pilling inside after taking photos with the paparazzi and posing at the venue's entrance, and Kuroo thought it would be a great idea to make one last round check of everything. It started with the tables, ensuring each one was adorned with elegant centerpieces and meticulously arranged name cards.
He recognized a few names from the other sports, and even vividly remembered that he had collaborated with this one specific lady from another sports department for that one. Each section was divided up randomly, and people from all different sports sat together, but the seating was also strategic, designed to foster conversations and networking among the sponsors, athletes, and other prominent guests. He paused at one table, adjusting a slightly crooked name card, and smiled at the sight of names he recognized.
His old classmates, old teammates, current friends, and the people he currently works with today– the monster generation. The volleyball prodigies, who have encaptured the nation since their high school days, were now the cornerstone of Japan’s Olympic volleyball team.
Kuroo thinks that they were the main selling point of the Olympics, with how popular they all were. He hadn’t even realized how increasingly popular volleyball was becoming, not only in Japan but worldwide until now and the feeling had him buzzing from the inside– it meant that his tactics of getting people interested and hooked on the sport were working.
Moving on, Kuroo hurriedly checked on the musicians who were starting to play up near the stage. Since the event was one of a more sophisticated background, some other member of the hosting community decided on a string quartet, hoping that their serene music would provide a calm atmosphere for the night. Kuroo exchanged a few words with the conductor, confirming the playlist and timing, but he was ushered off by the same lady who was his partner for the planning. Kobayashi Himari told him to go check on the other stuff, as she had told him she got the rest of this covered.
Kuroo laughed but agreed and headed to the bar. He inspected an array of drinks and cocktails that they were offering and specifically designed for tonight, a refreshing mix of sake and citrus, ensuring that they were up to standards. He chatted briefly with the head bartender, emphasizing the importance of swift service without compromising the quality of the drinks. The bar would be one of the evening's focal points, he knew how athletes liked to get when they were celebrated, and Kuroo needed it to be flawless.
The guest list was next on his agenda, He conferred with the team at the entrance as they were helping people, going over the names one last time. They checked and rechecked, but Kuroo’s attention to detail meant he wanted to be absolutely certain that no one was left out or improperly acknowledged. While he was out there, he greeted a few sponsors and celebrities who were heading inside.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he checked it to see a confirmation of everything else inside being ready for the night. Only then did he feel his heart rate go down a little. Finally, Kuroo mingled with the rest of the sponsors, thanking them personally for their support. Their contributions were the lifeblood of the event, and Kuroo ensured that they felt appreciated with some usual ego-boosting.
As the evening drew near, Kuroo took a moment to stand back and survey the scene. Everything was in place, every detail meticulously planned. The lights dimmed slightly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room. The camera crews were set up, capturing every moment for the eager public. Now it was time to let the night unfold in front of him.
Kuroo has never noticed you like this before.
No, who is he kidding? His eyes were on you the moment he saw you step into the venue with your team, after the paparazzi photos. You looked drop-dead gorgeous, makeup done, extenuating your pretty features, your hair shinned and flowed effortlessly down your back, and don’t even get him started on your outfit.
The white champagne dress clings to your body nicely, the creamish color emits a slight glow due to the dim lights of the venue, and it hugs your curves in all the right areas, practically exposing you to all the guests in the room, he doesn’t like that but it’s not his place to say. After all, he’s just a friend.
His eyes move with your figure, and Kuroo watches how you interact with a few sponsors, all smiles, showing off your perfect teeth, and laughing at their jokes. He wonders if they’re as funny as you make them look, or if you’re just laughing to be courteous. He watches as you talk with your teammates, listening to one of them complain about whatever, you offer them a gleeful smile and pat her back reassuringly before heading off into the crowd once more.
His eyes follow just like before, you have this aura about you, one that’s been dragging him in since he met you in high school, one that causes him to notice all the little things about you. Just like how he notices how the dress might be a tad too long for you, the fabric getting caught in your sharp heels, how the bag that came with your outfit is bothering you, he sees how you look around for your nametag on one of the tables to put it down, and most importantly, he can see the way you limp.
He wonders how they even got you into those heels, you’d always complain about how they gave you blisters but maybe it was the nature of the event that had your manager forcing you into them. You would never wear them willingly, he bet you put up a fight. Kuroo can imagine the pout on your face, your bottom lip jutting out a little further as your manager lectures you on why the heels are an important part of your image this evening.
Kuroo wonders if you are limping because of the pain, was it the wrong size? Or was it because of the blisters? Maybe you weren’t used to how tall or how small the heel was. He should have brought extra shoes just in case, for you to wear—
“Kuro..” a voice calls out and the sports promoter remembers where he was and who he was currently talking to. He shifts back to the bar, staring at the drink that now looks slightly watered down, a sign that it’s been sitting there for a minute. Then he turns his head to face his friend, the reason he was at the bar, “Don’t ever invite me to events like this again.”
The dark brunette with fading blonde highlights slouched over the bar, a side of his face smushed into the cold expensive counter as he hosts a brooding look on his face. One Kuroo has seen a lifetime's worth of. “Hey, you need to keep up appearances as a sponsor and the CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp. Besides you were the one who asked to come. What was your excuse? Because you wanted to see a certain someone?”
Kuroo smiles, propping his chin up on his hand and nudging Kenma with the other one. The dark brunette frowns, pink tinting his cheeks–he knows he’s been caught, that he did come out tonight to see a certain someone, but that’s beside the point. “Shut up. I already went around greeting people and it was annoying and a pain in my ass. Besides she’s literally swarmed–can’t you see that?”
Kenma lifted his head up just a smidge, to check if what he was saying was true, and low and behold it was. You stood surrounded by a bunch of other volleyball players, mainly people he recognized like the msby players, Hinata, Kageyama, Komori, and Suna. The rest of them were spread out all around the room socializing with other athletes.
“Hm, haven’t noticed,” Kuroo lies through his teeth. He refuses to look over, trying to get you out of his mind seems impossible tonight. Not like it’s possible any other night. How strange, he thinks, to dream of you even when he is wide awake.
Ever since you moved back to Japan to play in one of the Division 1 teams, you’ve constantly been on his mind. Kuroo hates to say it, but he missed you— and now that he gets to see you almost every day as a member of the JVA, his feelings just keep growing.
Every living moment with you makes his heart beat faster than usual. It reminds him of how he would act in high school, where he would wait for you after school to hang out, go visit your work to bother you, have you come to his school to practice with his team, and the small moments where he’d watch you play games with Kenma and beat him.
He loves reliving those memories because they’re all filled with you.
Quite possibly his favorite thing in the world.
If he had known you coming back would have excited this weird feeling in him again he would’ve stayed as far away from you as possible. Which ultimately wouldn’t be too far, since his job required him to work with your team and because how was he supposed to stay away?
“Seriously?” Kenma scoffs, looking at Kuroo with a knowing look. It’s not like the tall dark down haired man was any bit subtle, and besides, Kenma knows his best friend and he knows you (his other best friend but that’s beside the point). Unfortunately, you both are stupid and idiots.
Every time Kenma has to watch the two of you interact, it’s like he’s watching two people drowning and trying to save each other. It’s unfortunate that his two friends are oblivious and can’t see what’s directly in front of them.
Kuroo frowns at Kenma, taking a drink of whatever was in the cup in front of him. He doesn’t even remember what he ordered but it’s strong and leaves a taste in his mouth, “What do you mean seriously?”
Kenma shrugs, puffing air out of his lips and avoiding Kuroo’s eyes. He can’t help but feel sorry for how dense his friend is.
“Why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Talk to the people you represent, I don’t know,” Kenma suggests, holding his hand out in your path. Kuroo’s eyes follow it until they land on you, this time you're grimacing at something everybody else is laughing at besides Sakusa.
He thinks about it for a moment. Kuroo hasn’t talked to you all night, too busy talking to sponsers, organizing and discussing future collaborations and deals. The only time he engaged with you was a brief text beforehand when you asked him if you should bring a jacket.
“And leave you here all by yourself?” Kuroo turns his head to face his friend who is glaring. “I’m worried if I turn around for a moment you’ll pull out your stupid nintendo and stay stuck in a corner.”
“Sounds like my ideal kind of night. It sucks that I can’t even stream,” Kenma mutters to himself, ignoring the unamused look Kuroo was currently giving him. They both turn to stare at you, admiring how you look, some more than others. Soon enough, you must feel the two sets of eyes on you, because you turn their way, gaze briefing meeting Kuroo’s before switching over to Kenma.
You offer a sweet smile, holding up your hand to wave. Kenma’s nonchalant look changes into a slight smile, while Kuroo sends a sloppy smile your way and blows a kiss. His heart patters in his chest when your smile widens at his silly gesture. He waves you over to them, turns around, and chugs the rest of his drink, hoping to steady his nerves.
As you approached, Kuroo felt a surge of confidence. Maybe it was the success of the evening, maybe it was a couple of drinks he'd already had, but he somehow decided tonight might be the night to make a move on you. Just to test the waters.
But when he turned back, it wasn’t you who stood in front of him, it was Kobayashi Himari. His partner in hosting the event and the brilliant mind who helped him plan everything. She stood there with a light smile, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Hi Kuroo! Long time no see?” she says putting the drink in her hand onto the bar countertop.
“I saw you thirty minutes ago...” He raises an eyebrow, confused. Himari just shrugs, she leans in closer, purring into his ears. “Feels like forever ago. That suit looks amazing on you by the way. The color is… nice. It’s not quite what I had in mind for you though…”
Kuroo smiles, playing along. “Really? What color did you have in mind?” he asks, his tone a bit teasing. Off to the side, Kenma grimaces at the conversation.
Himari pouts playfully, “Something a bit more daring, perhaps? But you do still look good, I have to admit.” She twirls a lock of her hair around her finger, her eyes never leaving him. “And this dress? What do you think?”
“You look great,” Kuroo offers. He can’t lie, Himari has always been a bit of a looker. The dress is different compared to the normal business suits she wears, the ones with the glasses that she’s forfeited for tonight. She easily eases a strong sex appeal, the way she carries herself with extreme confidence. She knows she’s good-looking and uses it to her benefit. Kuroo thinks she is more of a mature and sexy type.
It’s not the answer Himari wants though, Kuroo is oblivious to this, but Kenma catches the slight drop of Himari’s smile. He doesn’t think it’s a pleasant smile, either. Too sharp for his liking. Himari instead of faltering, tries to redeem herself by leaning closer, bending down a bit, giving Kuroo an ‘unintentional’ view of her cleavage. She whispers in his ear, her breath warm against his skin. “You know, we should ditch this party. Go somewhere else maybe..?”
Kenma gags.
Kuroo blinks, taken aback. Why would they do that? He glances around the room, the very room they had both worked so hard to perfect. “Why?” he asks, genuinely confused. He did not stress several weeks of planning and stressing on the small details for it to go to waste. “We’ve put so much work into tonight..” he frowns.
Himari straightens up, her smile never faltering. "Sometimes, Kuroo, it's nice to enjoy the fruits of our labor in a different setting. Just think about it." She winked, then turned as someone called her name from across the room. "I'll be back," she promises, sauntering off to attend to the other guest.
“Please never flirt with her in front of me ever again,” Kenma says, causing Kuroo to look over at him. “That woman is terrifying and not in a good way.”
“Really? That’s just how Himari always is.”
“Yeah maybe if you're a tall, hot, sports promoter named Kuroo Tetsurou…”
“Did you just call me hot?” Kuroo laughs at Kenma rolling his eyes and leans back on the counter. He starts mumbling something incoherent and Kuroo was just about to ask what he was saying until something else entered his view.
Something worth his time.
Kuroo thinks his heart does several flips now that you're here, in front of him. Blessing his eyesight. Your hands are at your side, fidgeting with the silky smooth fabric of your dress, “Wow. Who was that?”
“Who?” Kuroo snaps out of his gaze to ask, following the tilt of your head when it lands on Himari, who is gleefully chatting it up with some sports athletes. “Oh her. That’s Kobayashi Himari– she's the sports promoter of the swim team. Also my partner for helping to host the event. She’s incredible–really helped pull this entire thing together. Don’t know what I would’ve done without her honestly,” he could go on about the woman's accomplishments, despite only working with her recently, she’s a big hot topic within the sports division due to her ability to bring in support to the swim team.
Kuroo hopes to have that type of effect on people one day. You listen carefully, not missing the way he talks about her, his voice full of admiration and your heart unreasonably aches with every word. Himari is beautiful, she excludes a level of maturity and elegance that you worry you’ll never possess. Even the way she walked away was sexy– you couldn’t help but wonder if that was Kuroo’s type. Tall, sexy, and not built like a linebacker.
You feel small in comparison, a stark contrast to Himari’s confident aura. There is even a sense of jealousy that runs through your veins, it’s not justified, Kuroo is not your man no matter how much you want him to be.
Kuroo’s about to add on when Kenma elbows him, signaling to stop. He honestly to God loves his best friend, but damn is Kuroo so stupid sometimes for the guy who graduated top of his entire class.
He takes the hint and switches the subject, focusing entirely on you. “Ah, anyways. I didn’t know you were going to wear white. I thought you said you were going to wear black?”
You shake your head, and your hands find your waist over the dress, smoothing it over, attempting to fix your already perfect appearance. “I originally was going too, but the team stylist said I would look better in brighter colors, so we settled on this dress.”
“I also sent you a message about it a few hours ago... but I think you were too busy setting up to respond,” you grin at him, throwing your hands up in a ridiculous pose, and Kuroo is able to take you in fully. He gives you a warm smile as he admires everything about you, “It looks gorgeous on you. Spin for me?”
Your face lights up at his little request and you do a little twirl, the fabric of your dress flaring out gracefully as you giggle. Kuroo swears his breath catches in his throat while watching you move, it's really tempting to hit Kenma and cover his eyes– so that Kuroo is the only one seeing you like this.
“You are breathtaking, as always of course,” Kuroo hums, reaching a hand out to pull you a bit closer. The hand settles on the lower side of your back, and the warmth it provides excites you, making you rub your thighs together underneath the flow of the dress.
Too busy geeking at how nice Kuroo’s hand feels on you, you almost forget that your other friend is also at the bar, staring at the two of you with a small smile, “Oh! Hi Kenma, almost didn’t recognize you with the suit you had on.”
“Hey pretty,” he greets, straightening up in the bar stool and turning his body towards where you stood in between the two men.
“Pretty?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow at his friend, who shrugs with a sly smirk–one that Kuroo decides he doesn’t like, especially not when it has you smiling like that.
“Didn’t know you owned anything like that in your closet.”
“Haha, very funny Kenma. That’s rich coming from the man who lives, eats, and breathes, in hoodies and sweats. Did you steal that suit?”
“Yes.”
“No, he did not,” Kuroo glares at Kenma, and he just shrugs in return. “I went out and bought that for him. I swear, believe he would’ve walked in here with a hoodie on if I didn’t”
“I probably would have. Dressing up is exhausting.” You nod in agreement, your stylist took around two hours just for the simple attire you were wearing. It was nothing like some of the other female athletes who went all out, you kind of wished you were dressed like them.
Kuroo catches your gaze slipping off him, he watches as you stare at the other women in the room and notices immediately what you’re thinking, you don’t need to express it for him. He knows you. “Stop that,” he says softly, pinching the skin on your back through the silk. “You look gorgeous.”
You stop and stare at him. How does he always know when you're up to something?
He gives you a certain look and you roll your eyes playfully. “So, do you like my new suit?” Kuroo asks, leaning back and showing off the black fitted suit.
“Yes! I see you took my advice!” you squeal, happy that he chose the color you said would look best on him. “It’s so much better than that gray suit you practically wear, every day.”
“My gray suit looks nice, excuse you.”
“I never said it didn’t!”
Your gaze travels all over him, enjoying the view he is giving you. Kuroo had taken off the suit jacket, it was draped over the back of the barstool, leaving him in just the white long-sleeved dress shirt, a black vest, and a red tie. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a set of strong forearms, muscles, and several veins.
The sight of him like this sends a flutter down to your stomach.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the black ink that decorates his tan skin. It’s a date, in Roman numerals on the inside of his right arm. Something you’ve never seen before, you swear that Kuroo had once said he didn’t like tattoos because of the pain. So why did he have one that was dated so far back?
Was it a lover? It’s from 2012 when he was a senior in high school. Maybe a high school sweetheart? But you knew Kuroo from then and never saw him with any girls. Unless you count Kenma with long hair. Maybe it was that one girl he half mentioned when you left, You want to ask, but figured that if he hasn’t mentioned it– it’s not your place to ask.
Your hands move unconsciously, reaching out to touch the fabric of his vest while thinking about what that tattoo might mean. The action was casual, like a stylist who was making finishing touches to their work, but the way your fingers traced the material and brushed against his body sent a rush of heat through Kuroo. Though your hands weren’t directly on his skin, it still feels that way to him.
His pulse quickens as your touch lingers, your proximity making Kuroo oddly nervous. But of course, you seem to have no idea the actual effect you have on him by standing so close, lost in your own world, in between his legs that are spread on the barstool, lost in the gorgeous details of the vest. It has a slight design going on that nobody would notice unless they were sitting close.
He can smell your perfume, it’s a soft scent that hints on the border of floral but he can for sure confirm it’s strawberry– your signature scent. It envelops him, taking over his senses, the stupid perfume is mixed with something he thinks, it has to be infused, because every time you wear it he swears it overrides everything, everything is just you, you, you.
“So..?” he purrs.
Kuroo’s breath hitches when he looks up at you. Your makeup is flawless, and the colors match perfectly with your skin tone, accentuating your already pretty features. Your eyes sparkle with excitement and it makes his heart churn, you’re so beautiful to him. Your lips, perfectly painted, curve into a small smile.
“I think… You look sexy,” you tell him softly, a little bit too in your feels to care about how you sound. “Yeah? You think so, princess?” The question–or if he even asked a question gets lost on you, the need to just tell him how you feel honestly for once takes over. The adjective doesn’t get lost on him, you’ve never called him sexy and Kuroo isn’t going to lie, your compliment goes straight to his cock and he can feel himself straining in his pants.
He has to readjust himself in the seat to try and relieve the feeling.
God, Kuroo just wants to take you right here. Pick you up and set you firmly on his lap, maybe grind your hips into his until he can feel your pussy throbbing against his cock, make you beg for him to put it inside, he’d tease you, possibly take it slow until you can’t handle it anymore. Make up for lost time and then he’d pound that sweet cunt until all you can think about is his cock sliding in and out of you. Till he successfully fucks you dumb and your whining and begging with tears in your eyes, telling him how much you love the way he feels, and how you want more.
If the venue was empty, he would bend you over the bar, take you from behind with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, he’d—
“Hey yn, we have to go. Speeches are about to start soon,” a voice snaps him out of his disgusting thoughts, ones he shouldn’t be having about his best friend. “Hm? Oh! Okay, coming,” you grin his way and then back out between Kuroo’s leg, you pat his hair, ruffling it a bit saying goodbye, and then you wave to Kenma who messes up your hair. “I’ll be back!” you whisper as if it’s some secret you're not allowed to share.
Kuroo hates Sakusa Kiyoomi– spoiler alert, no he doesn’t. Not when the guy brings in views due to his good looks and talents he doesn’t, but at this moment, watching how Sakusa pulls you away with a hand on your waist, he just might. He watches as the fucker pulls you closer to his body and how his grip on your waistline tightens.
Sakusa even has the audacity to lean down and whisper something into your ear. Something that has you tensing, your back muscles tightening up as you move uncomfortably and smack Sakusa’s back. The action makes Kuroo smile, but then you lean in to whisper something into the 6’4 Greek god’s ear his smile drops.
He can sense when Kenma is about to say something he’s not going to like, “Don’t,” his friend only snickers and shuts up.
“You both are stupid.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
Instead of fussing over the fact that no matter how hard Kuroo tries, he will never be enough for you, he turns to the bar and orders another drink. He sends quick curses to Sakusa until the fruity cocktail gets placed neatly in front of him. He's staring at it about to taste it when a hand settles on his shoulder.
It’s Hinata in his orange glorious self– No Kuroo is not kidding. His suit is literally orange, may somebody fire Hinata’s stylist, “Hey Bossman! Looking great! I just wanted to that that Atsumu and Bokuto broke the chocolate fountain and I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
Kuroo’s face drops, and he blinks several times, hoping the next words out of Hinata’s mouth are ‘it’s a prank’ but they aren’t. The guy is dead serious, “Are you serious?? How does that happen??”
“No idea, like I said, wasn’t at all involved. Nothing to do with me. Suna is over there filming it–”
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Kuroo mutters, taking the cocktail down the throat and getting up from his seat, he tells Kenma to watch his stuff. “Hey Kuroo?” Kenma’s voice rings out and he turns around to his friend, “You might want to take care of that before you go...”
Kenma gestures down below and Kuroo’s face falls. He doesn’t even have to look down to know what his friend was mentioning. His lips fall into a thin line and he sighs in defeat, his mood is ruined, his head is hurting at the thought of Atsumu and Bokuto breaking the fountain, and the worst of them all is that he’s still hard. “Right. Thanks.”
The event dreads on after that, one by one, sponsors, professional sports alumni, and various dignitaries took to the stage, their words teetering on the edge of boring and inspirational. Kuroo sat beside Himari, she attempted to talk to him the entire time but for some reason, her words weren’t registering in his ears. They sit near the back, as requested by Kuroo so that he can watch everything from afar to make sure nobody is acting up, it’s also a great opportunity to keep an eye on you.
The table you sit at isn’t too far from his and he thought that would help to relieve his worries but now all he can do is worry about how all these specific volleyball players ended up at the same table–because he doesn’t remember putting them all together like that. In fact, he distinctively remembers separating Bokuto and Hinata.
A realization dawns on him that somebody over there, (Atsumu probably) has changed the place cards around and it has Kuroo wondering when the hell did he find the time to do that? Probably when he was hitting one off in the bathroom thinking of you.
Himari leaned over to Kuroo’s side, peering down at his arms, trying to make some small talk, “Hey, I’ve noticed the tattoo before... What’s the meaning of it?”
Kuroo’s fingers instinctively brushed over the tattoo, a small line of Roman numerals that read VII • XXII • MMXII. It was the same day he had met you at the Shinzen High School training camp and Kuroo remembers that day vividly.
If only you knew how much you’d change the rest of his high school experience and quite frankly his life. You took everything about him, his flaws, his terrible moments, his dramatic moments, his stupid moments, and you welcomed him home with open arms. Invading his heart without making a sound.
You had been so different back then— aloof, detached, seemingly over everything and everyone (it was high school so he couldn’t blame you). You stepped onto the court with an air of indifference, your sharp eyes scanning the room looking for the coach of Karasuno’s team, there was boredom in your eyes that for some reason he couldn’t stand. There was just something about you that drew him in, something beyond how pretty you were and the extreme talent you displayed for the sport.
A spark? Some sport of potential he couldn’t quite define at the time.
As a child, Kuroo had known what he wanted to do. He wanted to bridge the gap between the world and volleyball, making the sport accessible for everyone to enjoy and have fun playing–just as he did. He already knew this was what he wanted, but when you came along, you challenged him in ways no one else had, pushing him to improve his skills on the court and his outlook on life.
Then there had been that one day when you confessed to him that you played volleyball because you were good at it, that there was no enjoyment left in the sport for you, no passion remaining, and that you would probably quit after winning nationals. It was that day when he vowed to make volleyball fun for you, to help you find the joy in the sport that he loved so much, to help you discover yourself as he did.
From that day forward, he tried a bunch of different tactics and set up some really stupid stuff to help. Stuff that you had gotten annoyed at, that you yelled at him for, like that one time he had you–freshman you play with a bunch of college kids who were all men (yea he really regrets that one). But his favorite was when he tricked you into letting him teach you the basics, teaching you techniques that you already knew, and probably knew better than him, but in a way, he felt like he made them feel new and exciting to you. Like it was your first time ever touching a volleyball.
The two of you spent hours inside the gym of your school, on that court with the fading paint, going over drills and exercises that emphasized fun and creativity. Sometimes he would invite Kenma, other times he would invite Bokuto and Akaashi and you all would just play your hearts out until night came and the janitors kicked everybody out.
Kuroo still remembers, when you showed up to his house over the break, with such a beautiful smile he wishes he stared at it more, asking if he could set up those stupid drills and games for you, or if the two of you could just play together. When you asked him that, Kuroo thought his heart would have stopped in his chest. He realized that the way your eyes lit up in enjoyment, he was so deep in his feelings for you.
How he always wanted to see you happy and smiling like that.
Helping you find fun in the sport that you once saw as a requirement was a turning point for Kuroo. He saw how your attitude shifted, how you began to approach volleyball with a newfound enthusiasm. You started to play not because you were good at it but because you loved it.
Watching that transformation was one of the most rewarding experiences of his life, and that sealed the deal for him. Kuroo knew that he wanted to support you while you went pro and wanted to help others find that same joy in volleyball that you and he have discovered, to “lower the net” and make the sport accessible and enjoyable for everyone.
He will forever cherish those moments.
In many ways, your presence in his life was a blessing he never saw coming. You kept him grounded, where he belonged and supported him. His heart knew where he stood, welcoming you in, letting you get comfortable, letting you embrace him, steal his every thought, and make it yours.
Kuroo beams softly as he looks at the tattoo, feeling the weight of years and unspoken truths that it represented. Meeting you had been the beginning of everything for him. This is exactly why he is afraid to make a move, he refuses to let his feelings for you get in the way of your friendship.
With the way he’s looking down at it, Himari can’t help but find herself jealous of the person who’s caught his attention like this. She’s been trying to get with Kuroo for ages, with no advice.
“It’s a secret,” he replies, trying to keep his tone light. Himari raises a brow but laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. He gives her a soft smile before looking in your direction, where you sit next to Sakusa, arm on his shoulder, leaning slightly against him at the table.
And then it all bubbles down to moments like these where Kuroo questions his feelings. Not the fact that he likes you–loves you, but where he wonders if he should give up on you. The thought had crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit.
After all, you didn't seem to see him as anything more than a friend, and he wasn't getting any younger. With him being thirty the dating pool twinges as he goes and well— Himari was right here, interested and ready to move forward. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind—everything he could ask for in a partner. But his heart wasn't in it.
Not only with Himari but with any woman he has tried to date. None of them can replicate the feelings you give him; none of them can and will ever come close to you.
“Ah, I love secrets,” Himari winks at him, and Kuroo thinks the gesture repulses him for a moment. They both wave goodbye when a member of the hosting community excuses himself for a moment, and then her face changes as if she just remembered something.
She leans closer and whispers, "There's an after-party happening later tonight. You should come. I'll send you the address."
Kuroo looks at her, surprised. "An after-party?"
"Yes," she says with a playful look. "It's going to be fun. A more relaxed vibe, just a few of us from the planning team and some of the athletes. You should come. It’ll be a good way to unwind after all of this."
Kuroo purses his lips, hesitating, glancing back over at you. Now you were pointing fingers at Atsumu from where you sat, most likely accusing him of something, and from the looks of it, the platinum blonde was guilty.
The thought of spending more time with Himari, away from the pressures of the event, was tempting. Maybe he really did just needed to give someone else a chance. Kuroo looked back at Himari, who was watching him with hopeful eyes.
"Alright," he agrees. "I'll come."
Himari’s smile widens, in shock. "Great! I'll text you the details."
She moved to mingle with other guests. Maybe tonight was the night to start letting go. If he could give Himari a chance, perhaps he could finally move on from the feelings that had held him captive for so long.
The speeches soon concluded, and the room erupted into applause. Kuroo clapped along, the speeches weren’t as bad as he originally thought. But the event still had a few more hours to go, filled with press talks, socializing, and dancing. After that Kuroo decided to make his rounds, checking in on everybody, the musicians, servers, the bar, and some sponsors.
He currently stands at a table, fixing an off-center centerpiece after talking to the JVA board members, who were very pleased with his performance tonight. He was observing the crowd with a relaxed expression when suddenly he felt a light pressure against his right shoulder.
Kuroo knew exactly who it was. “Hey you,” he says, turning his neck to look down at you and your pouty self. “You okay princess?”
You smile back at him, though your eyes show the fatigue you are trying desperately to hide. “I’m okay. Just tired from all the speeches. They were pretty boring. I think the guy in the blue suit had the best one,” you admitted, still resting your head on his shoulder. You take the opportunity to nuzzle him with your cheeks, accidentally smearing the makeup you had forgotten you were wearing.
The gesture is endearing and despite his white shirt getting messed up in the process, Kuroo finds it adorably cute. “Ah him.. What was that guy’s name? Gojo.. Satoru? I think he’s a big sponsor of your team actually.”
Kuroo remembers the man with the white hair and scary blue eyes, he had greeted him while speeches were starting because that was when he showed up… notoriously late. But when the guy looks like that Kuroo assumes a person can get away with anything. Not to mention but he’s also filthy rich.
“Hmm, he’s nice. Albeit too friendly, but very sweet,” you blinked in agreement. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it but Kuroo you did a really good job with tonight.”
“You think so, gorgeous?”
“Yes! I mean have you seen the place?” you point your hand out, gesturing to the big venue all around you.
“I don’t know if I can take credit for eeeeeeverything–”
“Shut up,” Wow. Kuroo thinks that one went straight down his pants. “I know you did most of the work, remember? You kept texting me about it? Either way, you did such an amazing job, everyone looks happy and again, the place is beautiful.”
“Hopefully the JVA people will stop underestimating you now.”
“They’d stop doing that if you’d let me–”
“Not a chance.”
“The idea–”
“Is terrible. Leave it alone,” Kuroo laughs, watching you wave your finger wave side to side in his face in a gesture that tells him no in all capital letters. He will get you to do it one day.
“At least think about it?” he asks.
“The idea was thought about and then thrown in the trash,” you tell him moving off his shoulder and leaning against the big round table. You were playing around with the flowers near the plates when Kuroo noticed that you were leaning on one foot. The right ankle is rested on the other one.
“Do you need to sit down? Your foot looks like it’s in pain,” he questions, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets and shifting in front of you just to look down on you with a tilted head. You shake your head and for once Kuroo has a hard time deciphering if you're lying to him or not. This is typical, you often hide your feelings from him–he doesn’t know why or how to get you to stop yet.
You shake your head. “I’m fine, really. But actually, I came over here for a reason. I was thinking maybe we could... leave? Just for a bit?”
Kuroo’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “We won’t be missed for a couple of hours. We could take advantage of that.” He offered her his arm, and they began to walk towards a back entrance where the staff entered from. It was the least monitored area, not that he or you would have to worry about getting into some sort of scandal. Everybody already knew you two were friends from the many interviews and appearances on Kenma’s stream. To the public, you two were just childhood best friends, nothing weird about it.
When Kuroo leaves the venue with you, entering the parking lot it takes a bit to find his car since the area is so full. The valay? workers aren’t there, either of you question it because it allows the two of you to get out unseen. Finding his car was easy, the black sleek exterior just appeared to stick out among all of the other fancy cars, it also helps that the sticker you stuck on the bumper once is still there.
“Nice ride, who did you rob?” you ask him when he opens the door for you to step in the passenger side. Kuroo lifts up your dress so that it doesn’t drag along the possible dirty outside. Once you were settled in the seat, Kuroo reached out, his fingers gently brushing strands of hair away from your face.
Your eyes flutter close at the touch, and he marvels at how serene you appear. With a tender smile, Kuroo closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, his mind still lingering on the softness of your skin and the warmth in your eyes.
“Fuck off,” he snickers while climbing into the driver's seat. He noticed you watching him, your gaze steady a bit intense.
Kuroo smirked as he let go of the seat belt, letting it hit against the melt in his car, he leaned over the console, moving in close, his face just inches away from yours.
His eyes watch how yours widen momentarily and then close, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation is cute.
Instead of doing what you were expecting, Kuroo’s hand reached for the seatbelt next to your head, yanking on it till it crossed over your chest and buckling you in with a smooth click, and then he leaned back, chuckling at the look of surprise and slight annoyance on your face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice teasing.
You pout, crossing your arms. “Nothing,” you muttered, tone petulant.
Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound warm and genuine, causing you to pout even more and shuffle into a slouched position in the leather seat, “You are impossible, you know that?”
Kuroo grinned, starting the engine and feeling a lightness in his chest. “So I’ve been told,” he replies. He uses one hand to maneuver his way out of the parking plot, he steals another glance at you, your profile illuminated by the city lights as the car enters the main road.
“How much to be my chauffeur?”
“You wouldn’t need to pay me to be your chauffeur, sweetheart. I would do it willingly. Unfortunately.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Hm, come find out, sweetheart.”
You watch the surroundings of the area while Kuroo pulls into the parking lot. He’s brought you to Tokyo’s biggest fair which only happens around this time of year. Comedic timing huh? It stretches out before you like a vibrant assortment of colors, sounds, and scents. There are lights hooked up above, twinkling in the winding paths, with the window lowered you can hear the distant laughter and chatter from outside.
The car comes to a stop and Kuroo gets out first to help you. He opens the doors, his eyes meeting yours with a playful twinkle, “Do you need to tie up your dress?” he asks, staring down at the fabric meeting the dark concrete. The ground was definitely going to ruin the white color, but you could care less about that, servers your stylist right and when you return it you’ll stick your tongue out at her.
You smooth out the silk, shaking your head. “No I’ll be fine,” you tell him and Kuroo gives you a look, like he knows what you're planning. He probably does.
The two of you step away from the car, the night air carries hints of caramelized sugar and popcorn, ticking your nose with a delightful scent. Kuroo offers you his arm and you take it, the rhythm of your steps falling into harmony as you enter the fair.
“Do you remember this place? It was our first date,” Kuroo states, a little proud of himself for no reason in particular.
You hesitate, a furrow forming between your brows. “First date?” you echo, a touch of confusion in your voice. Yes, you recall the outing, it was one of the very few times you’d ever hung out with a guy before that weren’t your siblings, filled with laughter and no particular expectations.
“That was a date??” you gasp, asking again for clarification.
“You didn’t think it was a date?” Kuroo asks, his face falls in astonishment and you shake your head, confirming that you did not think it was a date. “No?! I thought we were just two friends hanging out!”
“You thought it was just… friends?” he questions, his voice laced with disbelief at what he was hearing. Kuroo stops, turning to face you fully, his dark eyes searching yours for any sort of sign that you were joking. “It was only the two of us. I had everything planned out because I thought it was a date.”
Your heart skips a beat at his candidness. You do remember the effort he put in, but at the time you had chalked it up to his liking to plan down to the smallest detail. During the time, he was sure the two of you hit all the booths he thought you’d like but wasn’t that just because he cared?
“I just assumed you were being you,” you say, your voice feeling smaller now, unsure of what else to offer him.
Kuroo gapes at you, the sudden vulnerability in his expression softening the air around you both. After a beat, he asks quietly, “Did you want it to be a date?”
The question hangs between you like a fragile thread, waiting to be snapped. You pause, the question making your head buzz. It was years ago, could acknowledging that yes, you wanted it to be a date change anything? “Does it even matter anymore?” you finally reply, evasively.
You feel your heart racing, unsure of how to navigate this conversation with him.
The words build an awkward silence that thickens the air. You feel his eyes on you, probing gently but insistently for a truth you aren’t ready to reveal. Your chest tightens with a mixture of fear and unspoken longing and it feels like you’re drinking vinegar out of the bottle.
To break the tension, you point towards a nearby stall, the vibrant colors familiar. “Hey, let’s go check that out,” you suggest, your voice light with forced enthusiasm. Anything to avoid this piercing moment.
Kuroo’s gaze lingers on you for a moment more, filled with questions you aren’t ready to answer. With a slight shake of his head, he relents, his arm guiding you towards the stall. That’s how the two of you find yourselves standing at the jewelry stall, the vendor has a plethora of tiny gem bracelets, necklaces, and even rings with stunning designs, it takes your mind away from the conversation.
Next to you, Kuroo picks up a delicate golden bracelet, its charm shaped like a heart, a perfect fit for you. Your heart flutters as he takes your wrist gently, his fingers brushing against your skin with a touch so soft it sends shivers down your spine. He carefully fastens the bracelet, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch. You can’t look away from his concentrated expression, and your pulse quickens at the intimacy of the moment.
With a wide grin, he places it around your wrist, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending a cascade of warmth up your arm, leaving a trail of bumps. “It looks perfect on you,” Kuroo murmurs softly, making your heart flutter.
“Are you insinuating that I’m a gold girl and not a silver one?” you say faking offense. The question confuses Kuroo, it’s evident in his face, “Does– Does it matter? I think you look pretty in both..?”
“I can’t believe you don’t know about jewelry theory! How do you gift your girlfriends jewelry?”
“You are the only woman I’m gifting jewelry.”
“oh.”
Despite your protests, he buys you the bracelet anyway. You assume it’s expensive, nothing in Tokyo is cheap– but just the feel of it is what makes you assume so, it’s definitely some sort of authentic, and even if it wasn't– the thought of it has your heart beating faster. Maybe it’s the way Kuroo pulled his card out like it was nothing, waving you off about the price, acting like it was nothing. Perhaps you are crazy.
Thanking him, your voice catches slightly, and you hope he doesn’t hear the tremor of your accelerating heartbeat. After you thank him a hundred times and even offer him the opportunity to take it back and he declines, the two of you continue walking, the evening air turning crisper as the sky darkens. The breeze picks up, lifting strands of your hair and sending chills down your spine.
“Are you cold?” Kuroo asks, concern threading through his voice. It just now dawns on him that you’ve only been walking around with your dress and no cover— he doesn't even recall you having a jacket to begin with. He might have to have a word with your stylist when the night is over.
“No, I’m fine,” you reply quickly, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to generate warmth. The lie is evident, even to you, but you don’t want to admit your discomfort. It doesn’t bother you to much if you don’t think about it.
Kuroo frowns, watching your movements carefully. “Are you sure?”
Smiling, you shake your head. “Really, Kuroo, I’m not cold.”
With a resigned sigh, he steps behind you. The warmth of his large hands meets your chilled shoulders, making you shiver involuntarily. Your arms are freezing.
“Your shoulders say otherwise,” he murmurs, his voice closer now. The sound of something rustling fills your ears and you turn your head to find Kuroo removing his suit jacket.
Before you can protest, he drapes it over you with careful tenderness, ensuring it covers you fully. The weight and warmth of the coat are immediate, enveloping you like a shield against the night’s chill. Your body reacts on its own, melting into the fabric and letting it engulf your body. He steps in front, his eyes meeting yours with a focused intensity. You feel your cheeks heat up, the closeness of his presence making your heart race more fiercely.
He adjusts the coat, smoothing it over your shoulders and pulling it tight around you. Kuroo buttons up a few of the buttons, leaving the top part of your dress showing, to allow some cool air in. He doesn’t want you to overheat. His fingers brush your skin as he tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear, each touch lingering and deliberate. You realize how close you are, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. His eyes, so intently watching you, make it seem like you're the only two people in the bustling fair.
Kuroo smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulders, as he steps back reluctantly. “Can’t have you freezing before your big game,” he says, his eyes still holding yours.
“Wow, so you only like me so I can bring in views?” you ask, trying to tease him.
“That and because you play well,” he plays along, making you grin and nudge his shoulder.
The suit jacket settles on your shoulders, the warmth of it feels like an embrace. You knew the suit was going to be good when you picked it out for him and now you get to see it up close. The fabric has a nice smooth texture and not a single string is out of place. It falls past your hands, so much so that your fingers aren’t visible anymore.
The scent of it surrounds you, your favorite scent. A blend of something expensive, understated, and undeniably Kuroo. You take a deep breath, comforted and a little giddy at how it feels and smells.
“You know you’re going to freeze without this,” you tell him, half concerned, half happy he gave it to you.
For some reason, you want to read more into why he gave it to you, why he took the time to make sure you were comfortable and that it fit nicely, but you know Kuroo, and you know this is how he always acts.
Always the gentleman, he’s always making sure everybody is okay, checking in all the time, ensuring that they are comfortable and cared for. He’s always giving his jacket away, so maybe that’s why a part of you doesn’t feel like the gesture can count as anything, whenever somebody wears something too short or forgets to bring something warm, he’s there, giving what he can away to help them.
You're not the exception, you doubt you’ll ever be. He just noticed because that’s who is he, Kuroo Tetsurou who pays attention to the smallest details.
Kuroo Tetsurou who will drop what he’s doing to come to your aid whenever you need it.
The genuine care in his voice sends a warm cascade of feelings through you, even warmer than the coat enveloping your frame.
the two of you continue walking through the thickening crowd.
While Kuroo points out stuff that reminds him of your date, you can’t help but notice the occasional lingering glances people throw his way. It doesn’t surprise you–they’re likely drawn to his tall, striking figure (the words of a magazine, definitely not something to describe you), his suit that highlights his broad shoulders, and your impeccable taste that went along with choosing the suit. .
Kuroo always manages to stand out effortlessly, among the sea of curious and admiring faces, you feel a pang of self-consciousness. Like everyone that looks at him has to look at you, their eyes tearing you apart, judging and inspecting every little thing about you as if you weren’t good enough to be next to him.
Your gaze lifts to him, searching for comfort, and in an instant, you feel like you belong. Kuroo probably feels the harsh grip you have on him because he takes your hand off his sleeve and entertwines it with his own and squeezes, giving you a quick smile before focusing back on the crowd. You feel secure, wrapped in a blanket of warmth yet it was only his hand holding you.
You’ve known Kuroo since high school and thought of him as a pain with how insistent he was with everything. Back then you kept to yourself, played the damn sport because you promised you would, hating every moment of it– until he showed up at your school unexpectedly, demanding that you let him show you the fun in volleyball.
That day in an instant, your heart knew something your mind couldn’t comprehend. He had been nothing more than another face in the back of your mind that you would see at tournaments, on the bus, on the train, at work but now he’s the only face that you seek to see. He’s your anchor whenever the world around you spins out of control.
You never expected to get so attached. He slipped into your life like sunlight streaming through a window, slow and warming, until one day, you realized you couldn’t imagine existing without him. Kuroo gave you something no one else ever had, the feeling of love, of pure, unconditional, affection that made your heart feel both lighter and fuller. He taught you what it was like to be cherished, to be seen for who you were, and loved even more for it. When he looked at you, he didn’t see the struggling girl, he saw you in ways that you hadn’t seen yourself in years— strong, capable, worthy. He gave you peace in a world that constantly demanded more.
Kuroo was the first person to make you feel like you were enough, that you deserved to be loved and wanted. The self-doubt that had built up over the years always seemed to dissipate whenever he held your hand when he would whisper, yell, and shout words of encouragement when he simply stood by your side. The uninterrupted conversations, the silent understanding that needed no words.
Growing up, friends were a fleeting concept, an abstract idea that never solidified into reality for you. Perhaps that’s why the line between liking and loving Kuroo blurred so effortlessly. Your heart, thirsty for genuine connection, latched onto him, mistaking friendship for something deeper, until it was too late. You were already hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him. Entrenched in a love so deep it scared you.
You don’t know if you could ever love someone else the way you love him, with a passion so pure and a devotion so absolute. Your feelings for him are woven into the very fabric of your being. The very thought of anyone else fills you with an emptiness no one could possibly fill. When you glance back at him, Kuroo is already staring back at you with inquisitive eyes as if he’s trying to read what you're thinking.
“What? Is there something on my face?” Kuroo asks, raising an eyebrow.
You shake your head, trying to come up with a response to explain the unwanted and unreasonable staring. “No you’re just ugly,” you tell him and pat his back, providing comfort. Kuroo gives you an invidious look and you have to fight back a smile.
You continue to walk hand in hand with Kuroo past the bustling array of games, it catches you by surprise how each game is the same from all those years ago, and your eyes catch sight of a ballon game. The brightly colored balloons are blown up in a star formation set up in several rows so several people can play at once. Your attention is immediately drawn toward a pink giant stuffed teddy bear displayed among the smaller prizes. There is a pink one and a purple one and it looks like they are holding hands.
“Look at that bear,” you muse, pointing. “It’s so cute! Reminds me of the one you won me when we first came here.”
“You still have that one?” Kuroo chuckles, his eyes following your pointer finger to the bear.
“Duh, of course, I still have it.”
He nods, bringing you over to the vendor, who has already noticed your interest and is looking for an attempted cash grab. “Care for a go?” he asks, a knowing smile tugging it the corners of his lips, thinking he’s gotten another set of victims.
Without hesitating, Kuroo nods. He turns to you with a playful glint in his eyes, his hands tugging up the sleeves of his shirt that had started to fall. You admire his hands as he does it, they’re so big and the action is so casual that it has your mind wondering, “Do you think I’ve still got it?”
You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow, pretending to appraise his biceps. “Probably. With all those muscles you have, you better.”
The vendor hands him a few darts, and you watch from farther back as he effortlessly lines up his first throw. To win, he has to pop the entire thing and can only miss three times, you think it’s a rip-off but won’t say anything since Kuroo is so determined to win.
You might console him if he fails rather than laughing in his face.
The first dart he throws slices through the air and pops a ballon with a precise, satisfying burst. People nearby who were walking started to take notice, almost as if they were cheering him on. One by one, each remaining dart finds it’s target, every ballon popping in quick succession. It was so perfect that even the vendor was taken a back, he couldn’t even rig the game with how impressed he was.
“Don’t miss!” you shout, offering him some support and Kuroo flips you off.
The last ballon bursts before you know it, Kuroo turns to you with a smuggest grin on his face before turning back to tell the vendor which bear he wants. Of course, he gets you the pink one, and he holds it out for you to take. “For you sweetheart,” he says softly.
You take the bear, the fur is soft against your skin and it’s huge, almost as tall as your waist and up. “Thank you,” you whisper, clutching the plush toy to your chest, feeling a warmth spread to your cheeks and through your chest. It reminds you of the way you felt all those years ago when he had first won you a bear, a giddy excitement bubbles up as if you were a school girl all over again.
Clutching the bear tightly, an idea pops into your head, and you find yourself turning to Kuroo with a mischievous grin. “Do you want one too?” you ask, your eyes sparkling.
Surprised, he tilts his head, looking between you and the bear you’ve nestled securely in your arms. “Do you think you can do it?” he asks, amusement laced in his tone. “Last time I checked, you were terrible at darts.”
You gasp, taken aback by his accusation. “How dare you! Playing beer darts does not count. You hit all of them and just left me drunk! That’s why I miss,” you retort, frowning and pressing the bear he just won you against his chest. You step towards the vendor, determined to prove him wrong.
“I wanna have a go,” you announce confidently, too confidently, making Kuroo laugh.
The vendor nods and starts to collect the darts that Kuroo has used. Mimicking Kuroo, you roll up your imaginary sleeves, your eyes have fire in them and you breath in and out. “Stand back,” you tell Kuroo, tossing a glance over your shoulder at him. “Watch me work my magic.”
Kuroo chuckles, the sound filled with affection and amusement, his gaze softening as he watches you. The vendor hands you the darts, their weight unfamiliar in your palm. Trying to recall any tips or techniques, you take a deep breath, aiming carefully at the colorful balloons.
To your astonishment, the first dart flies through, popping a ballon. You blink momentarily stunned, but you quickly regain your composure. You hadn’t expected to hit it, you were actually thinking you were going to miss it.
You channel an inner confidence you didn’t know you had, lining up each dart with a sort of clumsy precision, tossing each of them with your thoughts and prayers and hoping for the best. When the last balloon bursts, you can hardly believe it and neither can Kuroo. He was secretly hoping you’d miss and he’d look cooler.
Your mouth drops open, and you can barely contain your excitement. Suddenly, you're jumping up and down, your excitement bubbling over. “I did it! Look, Kuroo, I fucking did it!” you exclaim, turning towards him with an expression of pure joy and fist bumping the sky. He chuckles at your reaction, loving how wide your smile and the excitement in you.
The vendor hands you the other large bear and you clap your hands happily. Beaming, you swap bears with Kuroo, checking which one is cuter before trading off of course. “I’m actually impressed,” he says, a singular brow raised and the corner of his lip curved upwards as he watches you giggle over the bears. “Have you been playing beer darts without me?”
You shake your head even though you know he’s just joking, “Beginners luck, what can I say? You just suck.” You tell him, lifting your arm up to flex your muscles in his face, “Oh my god. Get away from me,” he shudders, shoving you away with one hand to your face.
Kuroo had led you to an ice cream vendor after you both had looked at almost everything the fair had to offer, just like you did the first time the two of you came together all those years ago. There’s still a family in front of you by the time you get in line, so you take the opportunity to look at the menu, trying to find a flavor you’d like.
“Two cones please,” Kuroo asks, taking out his wallet. “I can pay!” you say eagerly, hoping to pay him back for the bracelet, the ticket, the darts, and everything else he bought you today.
He shoots you a look, one that deflates your happiness and you tuck the wallet back from where it came from. “Forgive me for offering jeez. Can’t a girl pay you back?”
“No, you can’t. Stop trying,” he says while paying for the ice cream. The vendor nods along while you tell him your order and immediately starts scoping.
While you wait Kuroo puts a hand on your shoulder, tugging you closer to him as some people walk by, “Are you excited for the Olympics?”
Your eyes light up. “Yes! I cannot wait to play in Paris. The city of looooove!” you say drawing out the last word as if it alone holds all the romance in the world.
“Is that your only reason?” he asks with a chuckle, admiring the way your eyes widen and twinkle at the mention.
“Of course not! I get to compete and crush the other teams. I actually have high hopes for both the women's and the male teams this year,” you nudge him.
You don’t get to say anything else as the vendor hands you and Kuroo your ice cream cones. He had gotten Chocolate Fudge, a classic. Kuroo likes anything if it has some sort of chocolate in it, he refuses to try any other flavor. On the other hand, you had gotten cookie dough.
“Thank you,” the two of you tell the man before leaving to find a seat.
You make your way through the crowd, following along behind Kuroo’s tall imposing figure. There’s a group of tables nearby that have a beautiful view of the whole fair. The horizon is awash with the twinkling lights of the fair and all its displays.
“Are you not excited to go to the Olympics?” you ask Kuroo, standing next to him as he cleans the seat for you not to ruin your dress. Only once it’s clean to what he thinks is perfection does he allow you to sit, but not before he fixes his suit jacket so that you aren’t at all touching the seat.
He’d hate to see the dress ruined.
Kuroo glances back up at you, “I am excited. I have the team's schedule lined up already. A few sponsor commercials, magazine shoots, video takes, and lots and lots of interviews–”
“Stop right there. I don’t want to hear it,” you groan. The least memorable part of being a celebrity athlete has to be the interviews. You hate them, your team hates them, and you don't know anybody who likes them besides maybe Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu, but that's self-explanatory.
The last interview you did left a distasteful feeling in your stomach. The guy was a total jerk, interviewing women just to stroke his ego. He would only ask more personal questions, most of them were about your body and your looks, leaving you uncomfortable the entire time. You didn’t even get to finish it because Kuroo interrupted the interview to yell at the dude and tell him off for wasting everybody's time. You’d never seen him so angry before, he was more angry than you were.
“You asked, princess,” he says, taking a bite out of his ice cream, a habit of his that you hate.
“I’m unasking. Stop telling me.” Kuroo chuckles and you watch him fetch his phone from his pocket, your eyes glance over the name that appears on his screen and your heart hurts.
You’ve been itching to know about his relationship with that woman. If it meant something, Kuroo would have said so, or if he didn’t tell you, he would at least tell Kenma something who then would relay the information to you, but there has been nothing but silence.
The only way you knew about the two of them was from the stupid insider articles that had mentioned the chemistry between them too. Himari was popular in her division, a strong leader with a mature attitude and a gorgeous face.
Kuroo was in a similar predicament. His popularity started in high school and rose when he was featured in one of Kenna’s streams, the fans loved him and people loved him even more when he brought together all the players from your generation, the monster generation in a big group match-up. It was a pro that he was also extremely attractive and charming.
“Do you think we’ll have some off time? In Between games and interviews?” you ask, trying to get his attention again. Hoping you’ll be able to distract him from the fact that the two of you should be returning to the gala any time soon now. You don’t want to leave just yet, just a few more minutes with him alone will suffice.
Kuroo hums, swiping left on the message from Himari and shutting his phone off “Pretty sure you would. Why?”
“Sakusa invited me to hang out with him, but we haven’t decided on a date yet–”
“Sakusa? Wants you to hang out with him?” Kuroo repeats, with a scowl. He fucking knew it. Knew that motherfucker would have made his move soon if he didn’t already, and this was his confirmation. Kenma had warned him about the two of you, but he didn’t believe it.
“Why’d you say it like that?” you respond, raising an eyebrow in surprise that he cut you off.
“Because it’s Sakusa Kiyoomi. He hates doing, I don’t know, everything,” he tried to downplay his concern with a half-heated smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. But jealousy, an unfamiliar yet persistent feeling, was creeping in.
It’s weird for Kuroo. He’s never been jealous of you hanging out with other guys before. The feeling is more of a sad ache in his heart, rather than the raging feeling that is bubbling up inside of him. Maybe it’s the fact that you and Sakusa go way back like your relationship with his was. The two of you went to the same school, you probably spent hours upon hours with him back then. Kuroo took up a lot of your time outside of school, but he will never know what happened during school hours. Or at those training camps, where the two of you were always selected to go together.
For no reason at all, Kuroo feels beyond frustrated.
You laugh, your hair falling over your shoulder softly, it’s halfway accurate. “Those are just rumors. He’s actually really active, Sakusa just likes doing stuff at home. Like last week me, him, Atsumu, Suna, and Osamu had a party at his house. It was really fun.”
So that was why you brushed him and Kenma off that one time. He bites into the cone of his ice cream in frustration at the realization.
“So are you going out with him?” Kuroo asks, his words are quick, almost impatient waiting for an answer. For the first time in Kuroo’s life, he’s felt at a loss for something.
“Huh?” confusion was written all over your face. Where did he even get that idea from.“Going out?”
“Are you two together?”
“Uh no, We’re just friends. You would know if I was going out with anybody.” you narrow your eyes, scrutinizing him, trying to decipher the sudden shift in Kuroo’s demeanor. Confused on why he was asking you this and what he’d hope to get out of it.
“Good, don’t go out with him,” Kuroo tells you, finishing the rest of his cone. It comes off more forcefully than he intended, but he wants you away from Sakusa, as fast as possible. Suddenly the idea of letting you go and move on is no longer an option in his mind.
“What..? Why not?”
“Do you need a reason?” He huffs, looking away from you.
“No… I won’t go out with him if you tell me not to,” you nudge his shoulder with your free hand. “But I would like a reason,” you retort.
His throat tightened. “You’ve listened to me before with other guys. Why not now?”
“Because Sakusa is different,” your voice was steady. Almost defiant.
“If you keep hanging out with him, more articles are going to come out about the two of you,” Kuroo says, trying to keep his tone calm, but the urgency seeped through. A pit was forming in his stomach, and Kuroo couldn’t believe he was actually jealous at the thought of you getting with Sakusa. A sense of dread lingered, one that he couldn’t shale. It felt like he was losing you, piece by piece, with each passing moment and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for Sakusa and me to hang out. The articles have always existed, I get shipped with almost everybody else like Hinata, Kenma, and even you. So if the media says Kenma and I are together, would you believe that? See? Maybe—“
And Kuroo feels like if he doesn’t say something now, he might explode. He knows love is patient. He’s been waiting all his life, but if he doesn’t say something now, he feels like he might live the rest of his life in regret.
Fuck what he said about moving on because he simply cannot do it.
It needs to be you.
Kuroo needs you in his life.
He doesn’t want just to be your friend or bestfriend, not an old teammate nor classmate. Not a fleeting memory in the background but as the person she could always turn to without question. The thought of a future where you aren’t by his side, nitpicking at him, complaining, yelling at him for not knowing how to cut fruit, laughing by his side, clinging to him, is one he doesn’t want—a void he couldn’t comprehend.
You're his constant, a lighthouse guiding him through the crashing waves of life. Kuroo can’t imagine navigating life without your light, your laugh, and your endless support. You aren’t just the women he loves; you are his soulmate, the missing piece that’s always been there, what he’s been searching for.
He swallows hard, gathering his thoughts and pushing away any negative thoughts.
“Because I like you. No, no, no, not even that. I’m in love with you.”
“What?”
Your ice cream almost falls out of your hand, and all you can do is turn to Kuroo, looking at him with extreme confusion and utter shock. It feels as if someone has thrown cold water on you.
“I have loved you from the moment you walked into the school gym looking for Karasuno’s coach, from the moment you told me how you felt about volleyball, from the moment you let me into your heart and let me see the side of you that nobody else had seen before.
“It’s always been you. Whenever I see you, my heart speeds up. When we touch, I get this warmth that I can’t explain. My heart feels full whenever I’m in your presence, like it’s about to burst.”
You remain silent, the ice cream in your hand melting and forgotten. Your lips are slightly parted in shock.
“I–”
He continued, not wanting to hear your response regardless of whether you reciprocated his feelings or not. The words just started spilling out like a dam that had finally burst. “I want to live the rest of my with you. I want to wake up next to you and share every tiny moment, every laugh, every tear, every failure with out. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my entire life. “You bring out the best in me, you make me want to be a better man.”
Frozen, you were frozen, body, mind, and everything else. Your heart pounded in your chest a you tried to formulate words, anything, something to tell Kuroo how you felt. The pulse in your body was so loud, drowning out almost everything at the fair.
“Kuroo–”
“Do you remember that one day when you asked me what it feels like to fall in love?” Kuroo asks you, and your eyes drift from the ice cream to him, he meets your gaze instantly only because he is already looking. Looking as if you were the only thing in the world, the only thing worth looking at.
You nod, the day at the airport flooding back in, when you asked that ridiculous question, hoping and praying to make something more out of your friendship. Except you never thought that it would ever come to this.
“I couldn’t answer you back then. I told you it was because I had never experienced love, but it was such a lie,” he huffs. Reaching a hand out to brush your hair from your face so he could see all of you, the person he loved so much that at times his heart felt like it was overflowing.
“Back then, I thought it was normal to feel this way. I thought that friends would make you feel this warm inside, make your heart speed up, make you wish you were always in their presence, make my every living moment seem so significant.”
“But it wasn’t normal. It’s anything but normal actually— this isn’t normal, princess. Nobody jokes around with their friends like we do, the silent glances, secret touches, the compliments, princess.” Kuroo runs a hand through his already messed-up hair, biting his lip softly before continuing.
“You had me going crazy, because nothing we’ve ever done was normal, and you know that, I know you do.”
“I told you I didn’t know what love feels like because all I’ve ever felt was it. I didn’t know what it felt like without it because I’ve always had you,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. Kuroo took hold of your hand, squeezing it softly for reassurance that he was doing the right thing. You squeezed back and allowed him to continue, still somewhat in shock that this was happening. “You were always there, and so was my love for you. I didn’t need anything else.”
“I’ve been so afraid of losing you,” he admitted, saying words that the both of you felt. “I thought that admitting how I felt would ruin everything. That I would never be enough for you, that I would hold you back, and the thought of not having you in my life was just too much to bear.”
His hand tightens around yours, “Every single day, I told myself I could live with being just your friend, that it was better to have you close than to risk everything. Every moment with you has been both a blessing and such fucking torment because all I could think about was how much—”
His words were cut off abruptly as you leaned towards him, your lips finding him in a tender kiss. At that moment the world seemed to fade away, and there was only the soft, intoxicating warmth of Kuroo against your skin. It was a soft, tentative kiss– an innocent gesture, like the delicate brush of a butterfly’s wings. Large hands settle themselves firmly on your waist, squeezing softly.
When you finally pull back, your breaths mingled in the scant space between you. Kuroo searched your face for any sign of regret, but only found a reflection of the same emotions that had torn him open. “Thank you,” you smile tenderly, emotions bundling up that it’s hard to speak properly.
“I’m never going to doubt myself ever again,” Kuroo smiles, and it’s so beautiful. Your favorite thing in the world, causing you to giggle at his sentence, silently agreeing with it. “You deserve everything in the world, and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you meant everything to me.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lips quivered as you tried to formulate the rush of worlds and feelings swirling inside of you. “I think,” you pause, swallowing hard, struggling to keep your voice steady, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since forever. I dreamt about it, thought about it, hoped for it, and now that it’s happened, it seems so unreal.”
You took in a shuddering breath, the reality of the moment hitting you in waves and before you knew it, the tears you were trying to hold but came like a flood. Each one is evidence of the feelings you had tried to keep hidden, to push back, to the unnamed hope you dared to harbor in your heart.
He gently lifts your chin with his fingers, bringing your faces closer until your foreheads touch, the warmth of his skin melting the icy shook that had gripped her. His hands gently wipe away the tears, the touch so light and tender. “It’s very much real, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
Kuroo places his hand behind your head, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer with a soft but insistent pressure. Your lips met again, but this time it wasn’t timid. It was a reaffirmation, a promise sealed by the eagerness in the kiss. Your hands instinctively wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer still as if you feared the moment might have been a fleeting dream. He was so real, here, with you. The solidity of him reassured you, grounding you here in this moment. Your heart was pounding, so hard it almost hurt. The realization that your hearts have always gravitated towards each other, just waiting for the right moment.
When you finally broke the kiss again, the two of you were breathing heavily, unable to let go of one another, uncaring of what the people around you were thinking or doing. “I love you, Kuroo Tetsurou,” you whispered. The words felt so right, so perfect coming out of your tongue. The words you’ve been waiting to say forever now but were so afraid to do it.
“I love you too,” he replies, nudging your nose with his as he presses his lips to the corner of your eyes, kissing your tears away. “So much.”
You're practically buzzing. Walking hand in hand with Kuroo, except it feels different now. Your head is resting on his arm, while you're wrapped snugly in his suit coat, feeling like you're on cloud nine as the two of you head out of the fair and towards his car.
Despite having to head back to the gala, you were happier than ever. So overwhelmingly happy that any minor inconvenience paled in comparison to your joy. That’s maybe why you didn’t feel the ache in your foot until now, it was bearable before, but it was starting to get too much to the point where you had to stop and stare down at your feet.
“I think I actually did something to my ankle with those heels,” you whine, staring down at your poor feet in the funky shoes. Your ankle feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and every sudden moment hurts like a bitch.
Kuroo halts immediately, concern etching itself on his face as he rubs at his eyebrows. “Gosh, I knew I should have brought an extra pair for you,” he sighs, frustration in his voice, not at you, but at himself for being so careless. Without wasting another second, he bent down to inspect your foot. One hand lifts the helm of the white dress a little so that the other one can wrap around your foot to inspect it.
You rest one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, slightly wincing as he feels around the tender skin and when he presses on a certain spot you let out a sharp hiss of pain. “Did that hurt?” he asked but already knew the answer.
“What do you think numbskull?!” you shot back with a pinch to his shoulder. Your retort made him chuckle, the soft laughter vibrating through her fingers and easing some of the tension from the pain.
“Alright, come here,” he says, an affectionate smile lighting up his face. In one smooth motion, he stood up and swept you off your feet carrying you bridal style in his arms. The action was effortless, Kuroo didn’t struggle at all to pick you up. Your heart swelled even more at the gesture.
You looped your arms around his neck, your head resting against the curve of his throat. The closeness was maddening, the gentle sway as he walked, the beating of his heart– the overwhelming feeling was coming back again.
By the time you reached his car, the throbbing had lessened, only due to the lack of usage on your legs. Kuroo eased you into the passenger seat, making sure that your foot was elevated on his dashboard and making sure you were comfortable. Before closing the door, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then to your lips.
Kuroo opens the back door to stuff your matching teddy bears inside, buckling the two of them in together. Once he’s fixed himself in the driver's seat, Kuroo glances over to you with a half smile, “We need to get you home so you can ice it.” He insists, turning the key in the ignition, allowing the car to hum to life.
“But what about the event?” you hop up to ask, face scrunching up when your ankle shifts slightly. Kuroo places a hand on your chest, settling you back down.
You already felt bad for making him ditch earlier to come to the fair, and now you weren’t going back at all? You feel guilty like you're ruining his moment for him to take care of you.
“Could care less. Your injury is more important to me,” he states, like a matter of fact. His eyes meet you briefly before he turns his head back to reverse the car out of the parking spot with one hand.
“But you spent so much time planning–”
“Sweetheart,” he interrupted, his hand gently cupping her cheek. The touch was soothing, a warm wave washing over your troubled heart, making your nerves calm down while also causing your heart to beat faster. You practically melted into his touch, pressing your cheek more firmly against his palm.“You are more important to me than any event or gala. I’d rather spend my time, here, taking care of you, than anywhere else.”
There's no room for any argument after that, he shuts it down with a quick kiss on your lips before he focuses up back on the road. You settle down in the seat eyes watching both Kuroo and the street lights outside as he drives. One hand is settled on your thigh, his fingers subconsciously
“Kuroo I don’t know if you know this. But this is not the way to my place." “I know sweetheart. We are going to mine.”
Arriving at the building, Kuroo parks in his private section, getting out quickly so that he can help you out. He carries you in his arms despite your meek protests, you burry your face in his chest to hide from the people at the desk that Kuroo passes by and greets— even chats with for a second and she greets you in recognition before heading to the elevator and telling the worker his floor number.
It was so embarrassing to be carried up like this, but Kuroo seemed to care less, not finding it troublesome at all.
Once off the elevator Kuroo takes you to his massive door, he puts you down for a moment to pull out his keycard for the door. You're already shoving past him and entering the place, “Home sweet home!”
One step inside and you’ve already forgotten about your injured ankle which is why you almost trip and fall. Luckily Kuroo reaches out, catching you with a firm arm around your waist. “Careful,” he mutters softly into your ear, his voice is a little breathy, probably from having you pressed up against him. Kuroo places a quick kiss on the shell of your ear, causing you to giggle before steadying yourself while he lets you go to lock the door behind him.
You enter the open space more carefully now, as per Kuroo’s request. The open living room space is dark due to the lights being off, but the lights from the city lighten it up and paint a beautiful view through his windows. His place was so sophisticated though currently a little messy, which you bet is due to his consistent planning recently.
Without missing another beat, you made your way to his bedroom and flipped down on Kuroo’s bed with a squeal. You’ve spent countless nights here, when your bed didn’t feel comfy enough or whenever you had gotten lonely in your own home. His was like an escape, probably more of a home than your own.
Kuroo watches you from the doorway, his bigger frame leaning up against the trim watching you sprawl out, his eyes soften at how comfortable you look in his home. It makes his heart swell.
“Your bed is so much more comfier than mine,” you sigh dreamily into his sheet.
“So you’ve said.”
He strides inside his room, heading straight to you, making you sit up with curiosity. Bending down in front of you, his fingers find the straps of your heels, unbuckling them in a gentle manner and sliding them off of your feet.
His warm hands, gently examine your foot now that he has a better view and has you situated in a comfy position.
“That hurts! Are you trying to reinjure me?” you whine and squirm when Kuroo continues to press down on a certain spot, checking to see if your injury is bruised or inflamed or if you hurt it worse by wearing those ridiculous hills today. The complaints leave your lips one by one and Kuroo pays no mind to them, semi-lost in the sight of your lips forming into a pout.
He thinks you're so so adorable.
You look perfect, bathed in the soft light of his penthouse. He’s too distracted, that’s probably why the words leave his mouth before he can register it. “You’re being all cute and sweet, it makes me really want to kiss you.”
The words hang in the air between you two, you seem frozen by them but Kuroo is less fazed and you realize how awestruck he really looks. Your cheeks flush, the heat is evident and your eyes widen in surprise.
That’s why your lips meet again, it’s a soft kiss at first, with an innocent intent behind it. One that becomes ravishing fast, Kuroo tilts his head to get a better angle, his hand sliding up your thigh, your dress, all the way up until it reaches your chest.
You pull back first, out of breath, foreheads touching one another, his cheeks are flushed and you imagine yours are too. “I—” his lips find yours again, tongue sliding against your lower lip then he bites down on the bottom lip, forcing a squeal out of you, that he swallows right up.
He takes the chance and slips his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every crevice he can. The kiss is intense, and passionate, lacking urgency but the fire between you two is there and apparent.The kiss was dizzying and so were the following ones after.
Breaking apart, he places a chaste kiss on your nose and then on your lips. “Tetsurou—” you start but are cut off by Kuroo kissing you, a slow lingering touch. It’s like he is insensible, drunk on the taste of you.
It keeps going like that, the kisses become sloppy and more hungry, Kuroo is grabbing at you and your arm is wrapped around his neck while the other one is tangled into his hair.
He leans into you, slowly pushing you down onto the mattress but when you whimper into a kiss, he recollects himself, trying to tug away but your wrapped arm brings him back every time. “We,” kiss. “Should,” kiss. “Fuck sweetheart—,” kiss. “Stop,” kiss.
“No,” you whisper to him, lips ghosting his. You can practically feel the smirk on his mouth as he urges yours open again. He licks the inside, tongue sliding against yours as he words. “You’re injured.”
“Make me feel better than,” you mumble, allowing your mouths to connect again. Your lips move fluidly on each other, and Kuroo’s fingers trace your jaw. Kuroo chuckles against your lips, a sound you messily suck up, he pulls off to press kisses onto your face, allowing your heart to flutter within your chest.
You look gorgeous like this, swollen lips from all the kissing, hazy doe eyes, waiting for his next move, and your chest heaving so heavily. Such a sight. You’re his sight. A messy one too Kuroo thinks to himself as he wipes a bit of spit from your lips.
He moves to kiss along your jawline, grabbing your chin to keep you in place despite your whines and whimpers. He gets lower and lower until he’s able to lick a stripe up your neck that has you trembling in his gasp. “Tetsurou—”
“Nu uh, sweetheart. You wanted me to make you feel better, yeah?” he responds, continuing to kiss and nibble at your chest.
With Kuroo on top of you like this, you took the opportunity to let your hand wander over his body, touching and squeezing what you could as he proceeded to leave open mouth kisses everywhere on you.
You fiddle with the buttons of his suit jacket, unbuttoning them as you reach down further and further, yanking the vest off and then helping him toss his dress shirt over his head.
From underneath Kuroo, you admire the view. Hands sliding up his stomach, tracing the outlines of his abs, perfect and surprisingly intact, his gorgeous tan skin— his stomach tenses under your touch. Kuroo pants heavily from on top of you, from all the kisses, his hair a mess due to your hands finding their way there, and his face is decorated with red lipstick.
Bringing your lips closer to his face, you press a quick kiss to the cheek, his mouth finding yours, as one of your hands lowers until it comes into contact with his belt. You trace a finger down from his happy trail all the way down to his crotch, cupping the bulge that had formed there.
“Aaah, fuck.” Kuroo hisses when your palm presses up on him. "Feel that? It's just for you, sweetheart.”
Without a second thought, Kuroo gets up and off of you, standing by the edge of the bed before gently dragging you over to him. You giggle in response, liking the view you have of him like this.
“Can I?” you purr, already unbuckling his belt, not waiting for another word. Kuroo chuckles at your eagerness, “Ah— slow down princess.” But you don’t listen to him, already tugging his slacks down after tossing the belt out of your sight.
When you get Kuroo’s boxers down (not very far) you’re too busy marveling at him to do anything. Now, you knew Kuroo was huge, he was already massive in general, and you’ve heard rumors from other girls in his department (he also had a scandal about it) but seeing it in person is so different.
His cock hangs heavy, long and wide, twitching and throbbing, with pearly white precum seeping out of his flush pink tip. There are several veins run up his cock, stopping when they reach the end, Kuroo is leaking so much that you’re afraid it might start dripping onto the floor.
To be frank, his size is intimidating. You haven’t taken anyone near his size, and you haven’t slept with anybody in a while. He was going to rip you apart.
“You gonna stare at it all night sweetheart?” Kuroo asks, a hand finding its way to your head, patting you yet guiding you closer to his cock at the same time.
You swallow the lump in your throat and take a grab at his cock, wrapping your hand around his base, not even covering most of it, and for sure your fingers can’t close around it. Kuroo lets out a low hiss when you squeeze him attentively.
It twitches, more precum leaking out when you start to stroke your fingers in a teasing motion. A laugh escapes your throat at his expression, eyes slant glaring down at you, you can tell he’s about to say something but you shut him up with a kiss to his tip.
You start to pepper tender kisses along his cock, enjoying how it twitches in your smaller grasp, how Kuroo wants to say something so badly, but he knows, he knows he’s huge, so he allows you to take your time to do whatever you want with him. Whatever makes you satisfied he’s happy with, even if he has to put his own pleasure aside.
“Fuuuuck princess,” he groans when you lick a stripe up his length back to the tip, wrapping your mouth around the flushed pink, and slimming your cheeks down in a sucking motion. You take the opportunity to grasp both hands around him, starting up in a stroking motion, twisting and turning gently, causing Kuroo to let out a loud moan and throw his head back.
This must be what heaven is like, Kuroo thinks when you start to take him even further down your throat, inch by inch, flattening your tongue and running it on the underside 0f his cock. He can tell you are struggling, tears are already pricking in your eyes.
“You look so cute struggling on my cock like this sweetheart.”
You're able to get a few more inches of him in your mouth before he hits the back of your throat, forcing you to gag, but not enough for you to pull off. "Oh, you like that?"
A whine escaped from your stuffed mouth, the vibrations moving on Kuroo’s cock made him moan slightly. A bit flustered from his words, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob your head up and down.
The movement is addicting, watching you suck so carefully, Kuroo can tell that you're trying your uttermost best to keep your teeth away from his cock. Though he wouldn’t mind a bit of pain— but that’s for next time. His cheeks are flushed, a dark red hue, that he’s sure looks terribly unflattering on him, but it’s hard to focus when your working magic on his cock like this.
Kuroo fills your mouth so deliciously, cock hogging up every bit of space inside, accidentally hitting the back of your throat every time, you try and push deeper on him. He’s so warm, hot, and heavy on your tongue, and each one of his moans only spurs you on further. “Gosh, princess.”
“F-fuck,” he mumbles softly as you continue to bob your head, the action allows you to feel every bit of him while you suck down on him as hard as possible that your cheeks start to hurt. There’s saliva starting to drip down from your lips, some of it meets with the tears that have started to fall, running your makeup in the process.
Hips softly buck into your mouth, not trying to make you gag, but the pace you’ve set for yourself and him is spurring him on, making him reach his high sooner. The bedroom is filled with dirty, wet sounds, Kuroo’s soft, rough moans combined with the squelching of your mouth on him. “haaahh, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”
You grin up at Kuroo when his hand finds its way to the back of your head, slightly shoving you closer. You don’t allow him to, instead pulling off until your mouth is enclosed around his tip again and swirling it this time, teasing him just to drive him further to insanity and closer to his high.
Kuroo lets out a deep moan when you lick along a specific vein of his before taking him all down your throat in one go, the action has him letting out a plethora of curses, some of which you’ve never heard before. The hand that was gently placed on the back of your head moved again, smoothing away the flyaway hair on your forehead. Through strained eyes and an agape mouth, Kuroo manages to catch sight of you struggling to fit the rest of his cock in your throat.
Such a sight to see. He feels like he’s getting impossibly harder while watching you.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”
You’re forced to settle on the several inches already in your mouth, continuing to bob your head on his length, you find out that Kuroo’s veins are more sensitive than you could have imagined. Every stroke of your tongue or fingers against them has him groaning and bucking his hips into your mouth— just how you want it.
You pick up the pace once you notice him getting closer, an obvious sign due to the high-pitched moans that are dropping from his lips and the way his abdomen clenches and unclenches, it’s a sight to behold to you, as you watch Kuroo’s body shudder and tense. “Fucking hell–” he shudders, throwing his head back and shoving you further down on him.
He works your mouth like that for a little while longer, your throat constricting around him as his warm cum spills down your throat without warning. “Fuck–shit. Sorry about that, sweetheart,” Kuroo says, allowing you to pull your mouth off him. You swallow up every last drop that he gives you, a bit salty. You hum to yourself while wiping off any access and licking it off.
“You’re way too good at that,” Kuroo comments, smiling when you reach up to kiss him. Your lips move rhymaticially and you bite him while pulling off. He helps you off of your knees just to press a few kisses over your messy face, grinning ear to ear at the damage he’s done. “Just for you,” you giggle, kissing him again and allowing him to tilt your head so that he can deepen the kiss that you moan into.
“You want to keep going, princess?”
You nod eagerly, just wanting him to touch you already. So desperate for anything he’d give you.
You allow Kuroo to help you out of your dress, he turns you around, a warm palm coming to gently massage the exposed skin of your back. He works his way up to the straps of your dress, lowering them off your shoulders, pressing sweet kisses to the area where they hindered on your skin, he follows a trail down your back making you shift and arch slightly at the feeling.
Kuroo’s fingers tease your skin softly as he unzips the back portion, allowing the dress to fall down your body, leaving you in your lingerie and exposing you to him. The feeling of being so exposed in front of him is nerve-racking and Kuroo doesn’t help when he’s just looking at you– not saying anything.
Without realizing it, you pressed your thighs together almost instinctively.
“Huh, all pretty up and dolled underneath there,” He says, tracing a pattern up your exposed leg all the way to your underwear. The soft fabric feels nice against his fingertips–definitely something expensive, Kuroo hooks a finger underneath it and tugs a little just to let it slap against your skin, causing you to yelp. “Tetsu–”
He cuts you off, stepping closer to you. Your eyes follow as he towers over you, blocking the already dimmed light from his bedroom, “Who’s this for huh?”
“Sakusa maybe?” His hands start roaming up and down your skin, each touch feels like fire, leaving a shimmering path against your skin. Your eyes shoot open at the mention of your friend, only so that you can glare at him.
“It might–” He continued to move his hand up your inner thigh until it was a few inches from your wet panties without taking his eyes off you.
Kuroo smacks your ass and you let out a loud whimper. He gropes the tender skin with such fervor you start to wonder who is more affected here.
“Who’s it for sweetheart? Who has you wearing such a cute fucking set underneath that sinful dress?”
“You–!” you choke out. “You, Tetsurou. I wore it for you...”
“Good girl,” He smirks at your response before picking you up to gently set you down on the bed, being mindful of your ankle. He positions you so that you are lying on your back, head laid out in between his pillows and your leg resting on his hip.
Your breath hitches as you watch him. The want in your eyes is so abundantly clear to him, that he can practically see the anticipation building withith them every second. His hand moves down to your panties again, the warmth of his fingers ghosting over your sensitive area had your body twitching already.
He sucks in his teeth when his fingers finally touch you– even if it’s only over the fabric.
“You're wet. So fucking wet. I knew it…” His hands, ever so slowly, rub your covered slit, soaking through and you gush even more at the touch. It’s embarrassing how he hasn’t done anything yet, and you're already acting like this. The rough pads of his fingers press at your hole, almost swallowing him inside if not for the barrier of your panties.
He doesn’t stop teasing your entrance, even as his thumb brushes against your fabric-covered clit, Kuroo watches with a predatory gleam in his eyes, closely as you whine and twitch again, your eyes flutter shut at the sweet sensation.
Kuroo must be testing your patience because he refuses to actually touch you. All he does is tease you through your underwear, toying with your entrance as if he wanted to drive you mad off of a few touches. His eyes are completely focused on how you twitch each him he touches you, his teasing, slow touches might just be the death of you. He wants to wait, and savor the moment but you want nothing but for him to stuff you full right now.
“Kuroo fucking Tetsurou if you don’t shove your fingers in my pussy right now I will shove mine up your a—” His smirk grows, and the way your brows furrow in frustration was cute. So cute. It almost made him want to continue to mess around, but for your sake and yours only he seems to oblige.
"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" He chuckles, shifting down to press a kiss against your stomach, he keeps kissing your skin until he reaches the skin right before your underwear, and he bites, causing you to yelp and kick at the unexpected touch. His teeth hook on your underwear, lifting up your legs so that he can pull them off of you in one swift go.
You watch him intensely as he goes, the sight is so erotic you can feel yourself tingling.
Kuroo tosses your panties to the side, they get lost in the darkness of the room and he concentrates his attention back to you. You clench around nothing when he whistles at the sight of your exposed glistening area, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen sweetheart.”
“Tetsurou–” you start but are unable to finish when Kuroo spreads you, getting a look at your swollen clit and sopping folds. Kuroo runs a finger up your leaking slit, gathering the wetness and smearing at all over, a soft sigh of relief leaves your throat when he finally starts to touch you.
His thumb catches your clit, he draws small circles around your pulsing nub. The feeling sends a surge of heat up your body, he adds a slight pressure on your hood, dragging it up and down in small but deep movements. “Don’t tease me like that,” you tell him, your bottom lip jutting out.
“Like what?” He purrs, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips as if that would satisfy any of your needs. Kuroo starts to pull back when you grip onto his chin, yanking him back down for a sloppy kiss, one that leaves the two of you breathless.
“What do you want sweetheart?” He asks, tilting his head while he looks down on you. When you don’t respond he pinches your clit, exciting a moan out of you.
“Tell me or I can’t do anything.”
“Teturou please please please just touch me. I want your fingers inside, pretty please!” you whine, eyes starting to get glassy while you beg, waiting impatiently for him to do something, “That’s it, princess.”
You grip onto the sheets when he prods at your entrance with his middle finger, he applies a bit of pressure then pulls back, it feels so different when he’s touching you without your panties in the way. That and the fact that you haven’t been fucked in several years, so every touch ignites something in you.
Slowly, his finger sunk into you and a quiet moan escaped your lips. “Fuck, your tight.”
“How are you going to take me like this? Hmm?” Your right thigh closes in, trying to close tha gap in between your legs but you're unable to when Kuroo stops the action with his other hand. “Keep them open,” he warns.
Kuroo sets a slow steady rhythm, watching your face for any discomfort at the stretch. His bottom lip gets caught up in his teeth as he watches your squirm, hips bucking up against his hand, he takes that as a sign to add another finger, the thick digit sinks into you easily.
“Fuck—” you hiss, back arching off the bed in pleasure. His fingers pull out slowly only to push back in with the same speed as before.
The sounds of your moans fill the room easily, they sound pathetic, a bunch of whimpers and barely understandable babbles of “more” and “please”, it has Kuroo chuckling against your heated skin. Every thrust of his fingers has something clenching in the pits of your stomach.
“I’m going to add another one, okay sweetheart?” Kuroo asks for confirmation and you nod eagerly, a string a breathy moans leaving your lips. “Mmmmppffhf—” is all you can get out for him, head thrown back into the pillows he presses another finger inside you and curls them immediately in a way that has you seeing stars.
You don’t even register when his hand slips underneath your back to unclasp your bra, the material quickly gets flung somewhere, probably in the same corner of the room where your panties went. You could care less about it when Kuroo latches his mouth onto your boob, tongue swirling and sucking on your nipple.
It adds to your heightened senses, you gasp when his teeth find their way to your bud, capturing it between them and biting down softly. You let out a loud moan at the feeling. Kuroo’s looking at you from his spot at your boob, enjoying the heavenly view you’ve decided to bless him with. Scrunched up face with your mouth slightly agape as your moans spill out. The sight makes the blood rush to his dick.
There's a euphoric burn in your stomach as Kuroo picks up the pace, continuing until he finds that spot that had you kicking, trying to escape from his grip and the intense feeling overcoming you. It was all so overwhelming — you were right there ... !
Kuroo lets go of your nipple with a final tug, the way you clench around his fingers is a telling sign that you're about to let go all over him. “Wanna cum sweet thing? Yeeahh? Fuck, cum for me, then. Cum all over my fingers like a good fucking girl,” and you do, with a loud moan that Kuro enjoys very much, every part of you lets go and you cum hard. The body-shaking orgasm hits you and leaves you breathless, chest heaving up and down as you twitch and come down from the high.
He brings his fingers out of your cunt and the loss makes you clench around nothing and whimper. A grin makes its way onto his face as he admires the clear sticky material that’s draped on his fingers and he slides two digits into his mouth, sucking your fluid straight off.
“Think you can give me another one?” He asks, bending down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s a sweet and gentle one, that doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back, awaiting your answer. “Another one?” you repeat back to him a little breathlessly, allowing your head to move to the side on his pillow.
This man just gave you a groundbreaking orgasm, and he wants to go again? Fuck, he might just be the death of you. “C’mon, I’ll treat you real nice. I just want a taste,” he reasons and you give in, nodding to him.
“Is this ok?” He asks, staring up at you from between your legs. He’s face to face with your pussy and you subconsciously clench at the the fact. “Yes, Tetsu,” you tell him, clenching over nothing but the way he’s staring up at you like you’re his first meal in a while.
Once you give him the green light, Kuroo dives right in. He starts with soft kisses and nibbles up your thigh, tantalizingly close to where you want him that has you squirming. He places a quick kiss on your swollen clit before sucking on it gently. You shudder and let out a breathy moan, heaven to Kuroo’s ears, he lets out a grumble of satisfaction at the sound.
The vibration on your cunt makes you gasp. “You taste like heaven,” Kuroo tells you with his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud. His tongue flattens out, licking several stripes up your slit and then starting to prod at your hole just as his fingers once did, tasting your wetness, humming against you with an eagerness. The vibrations have you squirming around already.
He’s just as much of a messy eater as you expected, tonguing and biting at you like a man in heat, one that’s been starved and deprived of his favorite meal. “Ffff–uck. Mmpffh,” you stuttered as Kuroo sucked and twirled around your pearl before tugging at it gently, leaving sweet kisses all around, lapping up at your arousal, anything he can quite frankly get his hands on.
His arms wrap around your thighs to keep your hips steady and legs open as he works. His tongue flattens against you before the muscle flicks up, tasting you each time. He has your body jerking, hands trying to grab onto his sheets when he swirls his tongue. “T–Tetsurou!”
“Be good, and I'll fuck you.” Kuroo’s tongue dances between your folds, and your hips buck up onto his mouth even as you try to ground yourself to his bed. Hips grinding faster when you feel his tongue nudge at your opening again. You moan loudly, back arching off the bed again, Kuroo hums at the sound, his upper lip fluttering by your clit while the tension inside you starts to build up again.
His movements urge small vocals out of you, tongue delving deeper inside, shoving his nose right up into your folds, the tip of it nudging at your sensitive skin, has you blanking out as you let out an airy moan. He’s upping his efforts now, sucking your clit as his tongue torments it, flicking over the sensitive bud. The sensations from his tongue are proving almost too much for you, and you can feel the tension worsening from your stomach to your toes as your orgasm grows closer.
“You're fucking gorgeous like this,” his voice is muffled, busy by his antics, but you make out the words clearly. “spread out like such a good girl. All for me.”
Hooked on your pleasure, he starts to fuck his tongue into your hole, pressing his face into your pussy. Kuroo’s lost in the taste of you, practically drowning in the feeling and sensation. He wants to bury himself so deep inside of you that Kuroo forgets where he ends and you begin.
It’s obvious with the lewd sounds from his tongue on your cunt and the shudders, gasps, and moans that drop from your mouth. You clunch around his tongue as he continues to fuck inside of you. The feeling so exotic and pleasurable, that you doubt you're going to last long like this. “Wanna cum for me again?”
“Yes yes yes yes yes– please, please. Tetsurou, please,” you shudder and gasp while Kuroo shamelessly eats you out. Dragging his tongue out for a mere second to lick another stripe up your cunt, teasing your nub again, then going straight back into fucking his tongue into you, he curls it up skillfully. The feeling was enough to send you over the edge.
You were a squirming, sticky mess. Your ankles were crossed behind his back, and your only moans grew louder, your body bucking against his mouth, your movements becoming more erratic. Kuroo’s grip on your thighs tightened, making sure to keep you near him as his tongue worked in and out of your dripping hole.
“That’s it sweet thing. Gonna cum for me? All over my tongue? C’mon then.”
And that's all it took for you. Head thrown back, withering and moaning in pleasure as your orgasm hits you like a lightning bolt. Toes curled as your whole body shook, arching off the bed impossibly high, your body tensing and un-tensing under Kuroo’s harsh grip. Your body was contorting before it relaxed, and your breathing returned slowly to normal.
Kuroo watched as you rode out your orgasms, the second one taking more out of you than the first one did. He could tell you were sensitive. “Hmmm, how was that sweetheart?”
“Still feel up to it?” Kuroo asks you while licking the remains of your orgasm off his face. You nod weakly, your body tired from both orgasms he just gave you. A chuckle falls from his lips and then he’s getting up from in between your legs, large hands lifting the bottom half of your body so that your legs are around his waist and you can feel his hard cock up against your thigh. You gasp, hips twitching involuntarily.
A shiver ran through you, and you looked up at him, wide-eyed. Flushed and panting when he asks, “Are you sure about this?” You nod trembling in both nervousness and anticipation. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Kuroo laughs at your sentence, finding it cute and he couldn’t agree more. He bends down to place a smooth kiss on your lips, tilting your head to give him more access. “Just let me know if it’s too much for your ankle or you.”
Even as you sprayed on his bed naked, he’s still worrying about your injury. So sweet, but that’s not what you care about right now. Kuroo takes hold of his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, he taps the tip against your pretty slit a few times before rubbing the head up along your folds, collecting your wetness. “Fuuckk,” he groans watching how it glistens along his dick.
“Stop teasing,” you pout, smacking his arm. “Hurry up and put it in.”
“Jeez, a man can’t enjoy a bit before?”
“No. Put it in.” you hiss at him.
Rolling his eyes Kuroo places the tip of his cock at your weeping hole, he would just have to teach you manners at a later time. You shiver at the sensation of him nudging inside and pulling back, and you felt it immediately when he started to feed you his cock, the stretch extremely overbearing, causing you to girth your teeth and grab onto his buff arms.
He let out a deep groan at how warm and tight you were, gaze flickering back to yours–watching you he felt like he would cum on the spot with that pretty look on your face. Mouth formed into an “o” as your eyes flickered shut and your eyebrows were scrunched.
He should’ve felt bad knowing that he was causing you pain, but you were just so beautiful like this and it seriously felt like you were going to cut off the circulation around his dick with how tight you were. “God– sweetheart you have to relax. Fuck.”
“I’m trying jackass. You wouldn’t like it if I shoved a cock your same size up your ass would you–?” you choke out as he pushes in another inch or two, a soft moan fell from your lips, a mix of pain and a bit of pleasure. Kuroo chuckled, his deep laugh vibrating and causing your pussy to flutter around him, “I wouldn’t but lucky that’s not happening.”
“Don’t fucking temp me Kuroo Tetsurou,” Inch by inch he eased his way inside, pulling back and then pushing a little further. The sensation had your nail digging into his skin as you whimpered at the stretch. You were more than prepared, yet the stretch was still a lot. The sting was nice yet antagonizing. He was truly stretching you out in ways you’ve never experienced before in your life, and you loved it.
“I think you might just clamp my dick off…” Kuroo mumbles off, folding his bottom lip under his teeth. His face fully concentrated on you and your sweet reactions and making sure he didn’t hurt you. Your feet flex and point as you squirm at the feeling of Kuroo sinking in. It almost feels like it’s never-ending, inch by inch he continues to sink inside of your warm cunt and you continue to clench down on him like your life depends on it.“So fucking tight princess.”
“Sucking me in like a vice. You wanted this badly huh?” he hisses when you clench around him again. Kuroo was just so big, too big, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.
He kept going until he was up to the tilt, your hips meeting together, pausing at being inside you entirely. You huffed, the feeling of being so full unusual for you, you felt like you had just gotten impaled on his cock, stuffed to the brim of no return– and it felt so fucking good. The two of you stayed like that, waiting for you to adjust properly while he peppered tender kisses across your skin.
His cock was throbbing inside of you, hips threatening to pull back and slam into you as hard as possible, but Kuroo knew he had to hold back for his own sake and yours. Not wanting to cum too early and because he wanted to savor the moment as long as possible.
When you grant him the okay, Kuroo pulls out only a bit before pushing back inside with a tentative thrust. “Testu! Fuck–” you whimper, legs shivering again at the pleasure that just shot through your body.
“Want me to keep going?” He asks, only to laugh at how quickly you nod. Your grip on his arms has loosened now– not entirely but not enough to leave a mark on him. Kuroo’s hips move inside you again, his thrusts are slow but harsh as he works you up, his patience holding on by a fine thread.
You let out an airy gasp every time his hips meet yours, the skin slapping against one another filling up the room effortlessly. His groans and low-pitched moans are just as audible as yours. Every stroke of his cock sends both of you over the edge nearing blissfulness. “Too big–” you shudder, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck when he leans down to be closer to you.
“Wasn’t too big when you–Ah fuck– were trying to stuff my cock–shit, down your throat huh?” he argues, hands running up your sides as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, hitting every single point in your body, causing you to clench tightly around him, forcing a couple of curses out.
Your face quickly morphed into one of pleasure, a look he did not want to miss, not even in a million years. His grip on your waist tightened, he uses his hands to lift the bottom half up so your hips meet his thrusts as he begins to speed up again, finding a steady rhythm this time. “Nngh– Tetsuoru–” your moans only grow louder and louder and that familiar tension starts to build up rapidly.
Kuroo pulls you in, hand gripping your chin lightly and connecting his lips to yours, kissing you with a feverly touch. The head of his cock kisses up against your cervix each time he pushes back in, starting a new pace where he pulls almost all the way out before hitting the tilt again, the contact has your toes curling, coaxing more pretty moans out of your mouth, moans that you don’t even recognize yourself for making. “Mmmmh, so good for me sweetheart. Fuck–”
The edges of his cock rub against your fluttering walls, gushing inside of you, the wet sounds of your hips slapping fills your ears and there’s no hiding anymore, not that you have the energy to do that anyways, all you can do is moan and whine around him. Crumbling to his touch and thrusts.
The pace he’s set is perfect, allowing you to feel and enjoy every single drag of his cock as it goes in and out. The pleasure is almost oppressive, everything feels so good that your having a hard time focusing on anything else but his cock. Kuroo’s grip on your waist is so tight that you’re sure it will leave bruises, not that you mind at all.
“You fit so nicely around my cock, huh? So sweet for letting me take care of you like this," He purrs, enjoying the way your body responds to each stroke he makes, effortlessly hitting all your spots, exploring your body as if it were a reward.
It’s unexpected when Kuroo reaches down, his lips finding your sensitive neck and starting to leave kisses all over it, adding to your heightened senses. Sweet innocent kisses turn into small nibbles being left everywhere, and those small nibbles turn into full-on love bites. Sharp teeth digging into your skin as he sucks harshly, you don’t know if his intent is to leave marks on your body but at the rate Kuroo is going at he surely will leave more than just a few marks.
The tension in your stomach is on the brink of snapping, and you can tell that Kuroo knows, not as if it’s a secret with how you try to hide your face from him, whimpering and chanting his name like it’s a prayer of some sort. “It’s too much–” you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck and yanking him closer to you. His lips on your neck and the delicious drag of his cock inside your gummy walls– all too overwhelming that it’s hard to even form sentences.
“You can take it—” and the tension that had built up again in your lower stomach snapped, simple, just like that. You clench around him tightly, a high-pitched wail leaving your lips as pleasure overtakes your body for the third time tonight. You are oversensitive, trembling, and gasping as Kuroo continues to thrust inside of you, with absolutely no intention of stopping.
“Haaah– did you just cum? Fuck, that’s so– shit– cute, sweetheart,” a low chuckle leaves his lips.
Without warning, he bends your legs, pressing them to your collarbone and hooking them over his broad shoulders, practically folding you like a pretzel, and Kuroo just loses it. His grip on your thighs gets tighter than you thought was possible as he starts to piston his hips against yours.
“Tetsuoru–!” you yelp at the sudden fast pace. Whines and moans spilling out of your lips like a waterfall. You attempt to slow him down by placing your hands on his pecs, but Kuroo growls at you to take them off and yanks them your hands off himself. “Try that again, and I'll tie them up.”
His gaze drifts to where your cute pussy engulfs his cock every time, and he’s mesmerized at how you can take so much of him. It’s ruthless, the way you swallow his entire cock, Kuroo feels his resolve cracking and his own orgasm approaching, steady and fast. He fucks you thoroughly, giving the both of you pleasure in places neither of you knew existed.
Being pressed directly against him while he thrusts into you feels like a dream. He spreads your legs and little wider, shoving them impossibly closer to your body, and somehow, it feels like it’s going impossibly deeper at this angle, and that’s when he hits it.
“You feel so fucking good. So tight— you’re going to milk me dry like this,” Kuroo murmurs, he squeezes your thighs in reassurance. Giving you a mocking smile while he rolled his hips into you again, the head of his cock brushing against that one spot that had you seeing stars.
He starts to pick up his pace, thrusting harder, eager for you to come again.
Eyes rolled over your body, taking in the obscene image of you. Mascara messed up from your tears, the dark color hindering underneath your eyes, your lipstick was practically gone, Kuroo having kissed it off you and smudging it around your face– He doesn’t think you can get any more beautiful.
He rolls his hips upward, drawing out another whiney moan from a pleasure point that you didn’t even know was there. He begins to pound into it with every thrust he makes, Kuroo bends down, capturing your lips in his mouth. With the sweet moan you make he tugs at your bottom lip, before letting his tongue back into your mouth, swirling your tongues together, gently sucking as he explores the inside of your mouth again.
You shudder and yelp, coil in your stomach nearing its peak again, eyes finding Kuroo’s sly gaze. The eye contact is unwavering, he smirks down at you, sticking his tongue out to wet his bottom lip before tucking it back in.
Sweat drips down his body, giving him a shiny look, his hair is wild, strands stuck to his forehead and you watch as his muscles flex while he hits you with deep, languid strokes. “Doing so good for me baby. You take my cock so well. Almost as if you were fucking made for me,” he coos when you clench and clamp down around his cock, it leaves him groaning lowly, your tight and warm cunt sending him into a damn near frenzy. “Shit, I’m close,”
“Please come in me. I want you to fill me up,” you cry, prying your eyes open to admire the sculpted man above you, taking you as his. Everything felt so good, your eyes started to water, body trembled underneath him. Little did you know how much those words spurred him on, Kuroo was fully ready to pull out of you and cum on your stomach, yet with the permission you just granted him— he was going to make use of it.
He didn’t waste any time, continuing to slam into your cunt, hard and fast. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Fuck– you're gonna take my cum like a good girl? Hmm, that’s it, sweetheart,” your body judders with each thrust. Tight walls spasm around his cock, and you cry out at the delicious feeling of him rummaging through you. “Answer me.”
“Hmmmpffhh–” The answer never leaves your mouth when Kuroo grinds his hips against yours, pulling back to slam into you again.
“I’m going to cum,” you whine when Kuroo’s cock brushes up against your sweet spot, every stroke sending electrifying waves through your body. Your insides clench, the coil threatening to snap at any given moment, and your abdomen starts to twitch, tremors leaving your body in the form of sweet cute tears that start to roll down your cheek.
"Almost, pretty girl," His grip tightened on your suspended leg to hold you in place.
Your cries only grew louder as your orgasm approached, body so sensitive, you hiccup as you try to form coherent sentences, trying to tell Kuroo that you really can’t hold on any longer, but all that comes out are clumpy tears, airey moans and silly babbles. Nothing makes sense anymore besides your overbearing need to cum on his cock.
Your thighs twitch, your body trying to pull away from Kuroo as your toes curl at the pleasure, “Testuoruoooooo– please please please— plea–” he thrusts into your sweet spot again, leaving you to blank out on his cock, seeing stars in your vision.
He pulled out nearly all the way before sliding back inside of you, over and over again. There's a white ring of arousal at the base of his hips, he continues his relentless thrusts, the pleasure, the want, the need to cum inside you taking over. Waves of ecstasy crash over the both of you. You can hardly hold yourself back especially when he looks at you like that, talks to you like that, and soon, you’re falling off the edge, crying into his neck, nails raking down his chest, breathlessly chanting Kuroo’s name like a prayer.
“Nnngh– please please! Tetsurou– Ah! Too much–”
His thrusts become more frantic, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room once more. One of Kuroo’s hands lets go of your thigh, allowing it to fall back onto his shoulder, only for the hand to find yours and intertwine them together against the soft sheets of his mattress. Leaning down, Kuroo kept up his relentless pace and pressed his soft lips against yours. His lips brush against your ear, his hot breath fanning over the skin. “Just like that. Fuck, you're so perfect. Such a good fucking girl for me.”
You only whimper at his words, you can barely see from the tears in your eyes, you try to turn away from him, but he doesn’t allow it.“Nu-uh, don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna see your cute little face as you cum all over my cock again.”
A strangled cry leaves your throat as your final orgasm rips through you. You pant, tongue lolling out of your mouth, toes curled from the oversensitivity that was taking over. Your mind goes blank as you revel in the pure bliss of cumming around his cock, and with a low groan, Kuroo buries himself deep inside of you before letting go himself.
You milk Kuroo dry. Taking all the cum from his body, there's so much of it and not enough space inside of you that when you clench around him, you can feel it oozing out making your body shiver. “Fuck,” you mumbled, allowing your body to finally rest against the bed. Limbs almost numb, from being held down most of the time and your jaw was a bit sore, not to mention the intense throbbing from between your legs. You didn’t feel like moving at all. You just wanted to lay in his arms.
Kuroo pulls out of you, allowing his own body to relax from above you. “You did so good for me. look how much you came,” he coos, removing your legs from his shoulders and settling them down at his waist. He admires you like him, all fucked out and exhausted. You only grumble out something incoherent when Kuroo’s fingers slip down to your hole, playing with his cum that’s seeped out already.
The two of you sit like that for a second longer before you speak up, breaking the silence. “Are we still friends?” you ask, staring up at him.
Kuroo chuckles, a deep rumbly sound that fills your chest with warmth. “I dunno, I don’t necessarily fuck the shit out of my friends,” he brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, staring at the dried tear streaks and ruined mascara.
You thin your lips, a splash of nervousness overcoming you at his vague answer. “Does this mean we are girlfriend and boyfriend then?”
“No,” he responds flatly, and you almost headbutt him with how fast you attempt to sit up. “What???” you ask him, slapping his arm, a mix of confusion and frustration building up in you quickly. There is no way, Kuroo must be pranking you. He was the one who confessed first, not you.
He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, “I have to take you out. On a proper date.” he explains, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.
You roll your eyes, smacking his arm and fighting the urge to pinch his nipple. “You're so cheesy.”
Kuroo’s laughter fills the room again, a deep comforting sound that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t have you settling or less kay? Now come here” he says, kissing you and pulling you close to him, lifting you up and turning the two of you over so that he’s laying against the bed with you on his chest. You can already feel his cock getting hard again and you knew one thing for sure, that you were in for a night of your own.
Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!
Bzzt! Bzzt!
Bzzt!
The loud, incessant noise is what bothers you out of your sleep. You reach your arm out, trying to locate where your phone is on the nightstand while fighting the urge to flip the entire thing over. There’s a soft golden glow that filters through Kuroo’s apartment, that only light in the room which your eyes struggle to adjust to. Before you could grasp at your phone, a hand gently intercepted yours.
“I’ll check it,” Kuroo murmurs, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble, still thick with sleep. He brings your intertwined hand to his mouth, leaving a few kisses then letting go to place a tender kiss on your forehead. You let out a small hum of agreement, obviously, you weren’t going to argue against a few extra moments of sleep, your body relaxed back into his embrace while your eyes fluttered shut once more.
Propping himself up on one elbow, careful not to disturb you again, Kuroo reaches over to the nightstand grabbing his phone. His other hand rakes through your hair, in a soft soothing rhyme, trying to lull you back into your slumber while he tries to figure out why both of your phones are going off. Kuroo’s brows furrow at the myriad of notifications lighting up his screen, a cursory glance at your phone showed the same thing. Messages from his co-workers, news apps, the JVA Outlook email, from Kenma, and even…. Atsumu?
Kenma: www.kyodonews.com
He clicked on the text from Kenma that came with a link and a photo. With a single tap, the link opened to a bustling news website. Headlines blazed across the top of the page, displaying an array of articles centered around them. Images from the previous night were plastered everywhere, capturing them leaving together in a flurry of camera flashes.
Snatches of headlines like “Gala Afterparty Surprise”, “We Knew it” , “Nobody was Fooled” and “New Couple Alert?” filled the feed, accompanied by countless comments and speculation. Kuroo’s lips curled into a bemused smile as he skimmed through the content.
Kuroo chuckled softly, careful not to wake you up, and continued to scroll until he found the comment section. He continued to read through some of them, laughing a bit at the usernames and the contents of the comments. Each comment ranged from the supportive to the wildly speculative and even some heartbroken ones, adding a surreal layer to his reality.
Kuroo: thanks for the articles Kenma: rude that I wasn’t invited. Hope u know that Kuroo: uh huh, next time buddy Kenma: bet.
Taking a deep breath, Kuroo put the phone back onto the nightstand and tightened his embrace around you, savoring the peaceful and calm morning before the rush of the outside world intruded once more.
Back then, you wouldn’t have been able to get Kuroo to say why he had become so fond of you, why you mattered so much to him, your success, and everything else about you. But now, as you lay, laughing in his arms, in his bed— he could tell you that it was a feeling that was so foreign to him but so close and unforgettable.
Kuroo Tetsurou has loved you since the day he saw you.
Getting to know you was never enough.
And he’d choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred words, in any version of reality, he would find you and choose you. Over and over again. Without a pause, without a doubt, and in a heartbeat. He would choose you.
And in every other universe, he will search for you because one lifetime with you is just not enough for him.
an: omg I'm so happy that i was finally able to publish this. i hope this was up to everyones standards and i didn't like anybody down with my writing , ignore the comments from the websites lol its just a bunch of inside jokes from me and my friends about this fic hehe :))
#─ yu writes ໒꒰ྀི ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ꒱ྀི১#AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH IM SO EXCITED#WHOOP WHOOP#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#hq#hq x reader#haikyuu smut#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsuro smut#kuroo smut#haikyuu x y/n#tetsurou kuroo x reader#haikyuu imagines#kuroo tetsuro x reader smut#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsuro x you#kuroo tetsuro fluff#kuroo tetsurou imagine
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falling in love at first sight (x3)
a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!
word count: 6.3k
tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol
HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.
but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.
he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.
which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.
that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.
needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.
"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.
something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.
ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -
dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.
you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.
fuck that.
dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.
"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"
"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.
"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.
but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"
the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.
"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.
it was official: han dongmin was in love.
"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.
"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"
what was the answer that would keep you here longer?
"yes?"
"are you asking me or telling me?"
"telling?"
"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.
until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.
"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.
dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.
"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,
"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.
"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.
you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.
"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.
dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.
"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."
"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?
"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.
"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.
it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.
"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.
"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.
"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.
"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.
"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.
god was real.
dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.
"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.
technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.
"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.
"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"
you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.
"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."
he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.
you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.
"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.
you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.
although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.
he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.
it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.
+++
turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.
instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.
dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.
you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.
the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.
so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.
your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.
at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.
dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.
he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.
"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."
dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.
"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!
he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.
"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.
you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.
(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)
"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.
"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"
you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.
it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.
you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.
"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"
even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.
"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.
before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.
you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.
"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.
you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.
"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."
dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"
you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.
"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."
now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.
"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.
you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."
you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"
dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"
you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."
"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.
good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?
+++
"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.
dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.
"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.
"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"
"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.
park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.
"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.
"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."
"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."
dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"
sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."
("you were there when that happened?")
("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")
("oh. sorry man.")
"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.
"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.
dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.
"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.
he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).
"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"
+++
dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.
he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.
he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.
the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.
instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.
as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.
"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.
he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.
dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.
of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.
he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.
thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.
"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.
"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.
"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"
dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."
your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."
"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?
"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"
"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."
you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.
"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.
"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.
"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."
"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.
"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.
"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.
"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.
"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.
"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."
"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.
"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"
"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.
"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?
"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.
after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?
"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"
"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."
"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"
"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."
"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."
+++
freshman year, spring semester.
"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.
"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."
"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."
"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.
"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."
"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."
freshman year, fall semester.
"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.
"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."
"get your mind out of the gutter!"
"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."
"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"
"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."
"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"
"i'll be whatever you want me to be."
#jnnul#boynextdoor#bnd x reader#taesan x reader#bnd imagines#bnd fluff#taesan#bonedo#taesan fluff#taesan boynextdoor#taesan imagines#taesan bnd#bnd fic#boynextdoor fic#boynextdoor imagines
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IDK IF YOU STILL DO MY HERO ACADEMIA AS IM NEW- but I love your writing so
What about poly Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki x Fem!reader who’s nine months pregnant, due any day now. She’s about to go into labor but they’re not home due to a mission
Idk if I explained this well 💀



also I hope this is good enough I haven’t been on here in a while 😬 . Also I gave the baby a name and a gender if you want something else then you can feel free to change it. Also if anybody has anything they would like me to write please ask!
warnings: fem black reader, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth, nothing bad though just enjoy.
SHOTO, IZUKU, AND KATSUKI. The top three most amazing and well known pro heros who were well loved by their fans had a little secret. They had a pretty little wife who was carrying one of their babies. Katsuki decided that he was going to be the one to get her pregnant first, the other two had no problem with that. After months of trying and no show she was finally pregnant and all four of them were so happy to finally have their first kid.
It’s been 9 months already and their precious baby girl has yet to leave her place within her mamas tummy.
Y/N rubbed her swollen belly as she did her rotations on her exercise ball. Katsuki’s mom was here helping her out with the little things that she needed. Mitsuki loved her from the moment Katsuki introduced them and now that she’s going to have a little grandchild she was even more happy with her future daughter in law.
"Y/N honey. The boys are calling again."Mitsuki said as she walked in from the kitchen to the living room rolling her eyes. “This is the fourth time they’ve called in the last hour.” Mitsuki chuckled.
"They're so worried that you're going to pop before they get back." Y/N grabbed the phone from, Mitsuki’s hand and put it up to her ear.
“Hello?” “Hey, baby. You doing okay?” Y/N rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “Yes I’ve been okay since the last time you called.” She heard him chuckle. “Okay. You’re a little worked up. What happened? Sick of us calling?” Y/N giggled. “Nope, never. I can’t even miss or worry about you guys because you’re too busy calling all the time instead of focusing on your task that you three were sent to do.” Before Izuku could respond she heard the faint voice of someone talking to him. “Oi? Is that Curls?” Katsuki of course.
Y/N heard what sounded like the phone being snatched away from Izuku. “Oi, Curls! If you ever hand up in my face again we’re gonna have some problems when I get back home, you hear me?” Y/N chuckled. “Yes sir.” She heard the blonde kiss his teeth before handing the phone back to Izuku.
“Sorry, bout that. Anyways you’ve got some scolding to do to Katsuki anyways.” “Don’t you dare tell her about that!” She could tell Izuku rolled his eyes. “He was being careless today and almost lost his leg.” Katsuki grumbled. “ ‘Was not bein’ fuckin’ careless. ‘The hell was I s’posed to know he was gonna turn his leg in to a fuckin’ chain saw?!” Y/N pursed her lips. “Y’know if you two are done bickering we have matters to attend too.”
Shoto said out of nowhere. “That’s right. Well baby, look like we gotta go. We’ll see you next week, hopefully.” Katsuki butted in. “Yeah so tell the brat to avoid her eviction notices till then.” Y/N laughed. “I’m sure she heard you, Kat. I’ll see you boys next week. I love you.” “We love you more baby.” Then the phone clicked and the call was over.
Y/N sighed. She truly did miss them. Sure she enjoyed the company of her soon to be in laws, but she missed her boys. It was quiet and peaceful while they were away and she hated that. The bed was always cold and empty and she also hated that but it still smelled of them and she could at least appreciate that. So did the large shirt that she borrowed from Shoto’s side of the closet.
The boys had already been gone for two weeks and they’d be back home next week but it doesn’t feel like Blossom can wait any longer to be out in the world. Her eyes trailed over towards the belly cast that she had gotten done. The boys had decorated it all pretty and even drew a little family of four on it in Katsuki’s terrible excuse of a drawing. She’d never tell him that though because even if it was bad it’s still cute and still has meaning to it. She can still even feel their careful hands on her stomach.
Izuku’s hands are the most scarred and a little calloused but still firm and calming. Katsuki’s hands being the most calloused and somehow a bit sweaty from time to time. Sho’s hands were the softest but were always cold.
She missed the special treatment and massages they’d give her before they left. They were very caring and spoiling.
It’s been like this since they’ve found out that she was pregnant. They couldn’t be home for her, they had their moms take care of her. Then when they came home for the night, they’d be all over her because in their words, “you look so cute when you’re pregnant.”
She smiled softly at Mitsuki as she smelled the cooking of her favorite food. It’s getting later and later and there was a storm outside brewing. She didn’t want her poor boys caught outside in the rain.
"Y/N, Inko sent some more clothes for Blossom." Mitsuki smiled as she handed them to her. “Awe. We’re going to run out of space in her little closets.” Y/N held the shirt to her stomach. “Do you like it, B?” Y/N suddenly winced at a sharp pain in her stomach. “Okay, I’ll put it away.” But the pain kept coming. Mitsuki helped Y/N up carefully and at that very moment, her water broke.
Mitsuki immediately started to call phones. "Inko, Rei! It's happening! I need you here now! The babies coming!"
Mitsuki was rushing around the house to get the bags ready and extra clothes before helping her soon to be daughter in law towards the car.
Once they arrived after some time Mitsuki rushed in to get a nurse and she came back with a nurse who had a wheelchair ready and the both of them helped Y/N out of the car in to the chair and she was wheeled in and rushed towards the maternity floor. They put her in a room and went to go get things ready for her.
“Where the fuck are they going?!” Y/N whimpered out as one if her hands held her stomach while her other arm was draped across her face. Rei and Inko walked in. "They're going to get everything ready. More doctors and your epidural for your pain, Honey."Inko responded and Y/N hummed in pain.
“Did you call the boys?” Rei asked and Mitsuki nodded her head as she tried to get Y/N comfortable and situated. "Yes but they're not answering. I think they're too busy in what they're doing."
Rei let out a soft okay before looking at the clock on the wall. 12:03 AM it read. A nurse came back in and injected her with the medicine but it didn’t have time to do its job because right after the doctors came in and it was time for her baby girl to come out in to the world.
Everything went smoothly. (beside the three mothers having to stop Y/N from attacking the nurse. Twice. First time because if her giving her the epidural late and second because the bitch almost dropped her baby.) when Blossom was all cleaned up it was about. 2:19 when Y/N got to hold her baby and feed her.
She was so pretty. Her skin was a mix between Y/N and Katsuki and her hair was blonde and straight but Y/N was sure that her curls would come in soon. Last but not least her eyes her round and (e/c) just like her moms as she looked up at her through her blonde eyelashes. The three mothers huddled around Y/N to look at their granddaughter. "Awe. She's so pretty." Inko cooed softly. “I’ve got to get pictures.” Rei gushed and both her and Inko rushed to their purses to get their phone out while Mitsuki stayed by Y/N.
"Do you want me to get her so you can rest?" “Yes please, if you don’t mind.” Mitsuki took Blossom and soon after, Y/N was knocked out.
Izuku was the last person to get out of the bath for that morning. They’d been up since midnight going on a fake lead, practically wasting their time all night. Izuku grabbed what he thought was his phone but noticed that it was Katsuki’s. “Hey, Kachaan? You’ve got 10 missed calls from your mom.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow as he set down his freshly cooked spicy ramen.
He went to his call log and clicked on his mom’s name in face time. "Hello?" His mom’s face showed in the camera. “You called 10 times?” He said unamused. Thinking that it was just her being worried and paranoid again. "Well, I needed to tell you something." Katsuki hummed. “Kay?” The camera flipped around and Katsuki saw blonde hair then the phone fell to the floor as his mom let out an agitated ‘damn it’ before picking it up and a sleeping baby was shown.
“Is that?” "Yep." Inko cut off her son. “That’s Blossom guys!” The boys mouths dropped. Their daughter was so pretty just like her mommy. After that face time call that day the boys had to call off the mission to get home to their girls immediately.
Y/N was released from the hospital two days before they could come home so when they made it back they instantly without a second thought came straight home and they finally got to see their daughter. Blossoms little hair started to curl up a little so she most definitely started to look like Y/N.
Katsuki was the first to hold her and she was so small Katsuki feared that he might break her. Izuku and Shoto walked towards Katsuki, standing on either side of him as they looked down at their daughter. “She most definitely looks like a Blossom.” Shoto spoke softly as the little baby curiously looked at the three men.
Their moms smiled at them. "Congrats boys!" Mitsuki had tears in her eyes as little sniffles came out. "Oh my goodness. I'm finally a grandma! I'm never gonna get over this!" She cried into Inko’s shoulder and Inko patted her back comfortingly. “I wanna hold her next.” Izuku held his arms out and Katsuki carefully handed Blossom to him. Once he was secure in his arms, Katsuki turned towards Y/N.
He smiled softly and he walked over towards her giving her a kiss on her cheek. He watched the others coo over the little blonde haired baby.
“Thank you so much, baby.” Three months later, the world knew about their two girls after Izuku had posted a video of Blossom giggling away at Katsuki and Shoto making silly faces at her while Y/N just watched in the background with a big smile on her face. That video was the most brought up topic in their latest interviews and they didn’t mind at all telling the world about their girls.
this story belongs to @lolaxbunnyy !!
#anime x black!reader#anime#anime x you#black reader#x reader#todoroki x fem!reader#bakugou x black female reader#bakugou x female reader#todoroki x black!reader#izuku x black!reader#izuku x reader#todobakudeku x reader#pregnant reader#poly relationship
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What radicalized me was Conservative philanthropy.
I've said before that my parents were property managers, which is to say, the people real estate investors who owned apartment buildings hired to act as landlords for them. And they and a lot of my other relatives were really big into investing in real estate as a means of creating generational wealth. (This has not worked out for us, by and large. Some have given up, but others are still hustling today.)
This means that when a local government wants to create a Taskforce on How We're Totally Addressing the Housing Crisis, You Guys, and among all the shelters and charities desperate for funding, they look to appoint someone who can represent the landlords who control most of the housing here... they appoint the kind of people I end up sitting next to at Thanksgiving dinner.
So this story I just shared about landlords and government and housing benefit payment dates?
Yeah. That got shared with me by a conservative. Someone who knows I'm a fruity socialist leech now, and wanted me to know that this was proof that the private sector CARES!
Actually, it was part of an argument about how government or nonprofit housing wasn't a good solution to the housing crisis, because the private sector "can do it more efficiently". The landlords saw something was really wrong and they were having to evict a lot more people than usual! So they called up their buddies in office and got it FIXED! Let us join hands and sing!
I, meanwhile, knew that benefits recipients had been screaming about this problem to national newsmedia for months before the landlords stepped in, so I was less than impressed. Imagine a type of noblesse oblige that only takes notice when they realize they're making people homeless when they might have made a profit off them instead.
Every time conservatives pat themselves on the back for how good they are to the poor, I can't stop seeing just how good to the poor they aren't, most of the time.
(And also: I know how the economics work, and how most of the time the landlords couldn't afford to just let people stay for less money. Mortgages need paying. But that doesn't inspire me to let the landlords off easy; it says to me that we really do need radically different funding models for housing.)
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So, this week's episode...
[Spoilers below cut]
OOH, I'm VERY excited to see another Karen episode today! Back to our roots, huh Team. I see you 😌↕️ and still got "SMG4:" prefix in the title there...
also the pattern's shattered but meh *shrugs* who cares about that
Alright, chat, all bets in! Are we getting the arc this time? Let's see...
(the following is my live reaction:)
SMG4 being sponsored by a DC game oh shit, they've really come a long way..... ROGER CRAIG SMITH?! IN MY SMG4 EP?! welp i did not have that in my bingo card
really funny considering some pages of the Sonic x DC crossover are popping up on the same day (my favorite blue guys 💙)
anyway, about the SMG4 Batman signal....
oh... we're really starting off like this, huh
I can already tell this is going to be an emotional episode. god, this really hits heavy with inflation and stuff.
no... please don't tell me....
NO NO NO
"Eviction notice: Indeed, you have been evicted from the premises. Effective immediately, you are to get the actual hell away from this place. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here. Which was home. Geddit?"
ALREADY TRYING TO PISS ME OFF? BC OH BOY IS IT WORKING. YA VERAS LO TE VOY HACER HIJO DE SU—
alright alright, gotta calm down. there's gotta be another way, right?
oh the kids, nooooo
4 PLEASE HELP THEM
just the fact Karen's able to confide with SMG4, wow. Ever since the "We Must Kill Mario" episode, it seems like Karen's been able to trust him in a time of need, especially for her kids.
Sure, 4 and the Crew always get into wacky shenanigans with a side of trauma (like what happened in Puzzle Park) but she still does trust him, which is very sweet to think about. even if she didn't open up the text message, she already knows 4 would be willing to help her if he could
WHAT?
smh 😔 just another day in the SMG4 universe (also 4 absolutely recorded it for a video, he would)
oh wait he did. shoot. well, at least it was considerate of 4 to let her know anyway
ok side note: I find it hilarious that 4 would be sending memes to anyone he knows besides the Crew (he is a meme guardian after all) and Karen be the one to respond with "K". I love that for him.
huh. the Monopoly Man must've really hit rock bottom to be in a homeless shelter rn
DEPRESSO?! you're back, after all this time?
oh hey Mario! still looking for cheese? understandable (i also love cheese)
Mario: "Mmm, free goo." ...don't do that to me, don't say that *IGBP flashbacks*
NOW HOLD UP SHE'S RIGHT, HOW COME THEY CAN'T GET A SERVING TOO?
YEAH GET HIS ASS
oh, never expected the same shot from The Incredibles movie
OH, ARE WE FINALLY GETTING MORE OF HER BACKSTORY? she did say before that she took the job to make a living away from desperate times
AW that's our lovable goofball, willing to help his friends 💙
Oh. not that i expected much anyway. I thought that maybe a tent?
Really nice of Mario to keep his word and not tell the kids yet
Uh. What's all that about? NO NO go back, what was that?
*head in hands* Team, really? did you really have to dig the knife even deeper with the Koopa family moving in, c'mon
OGH BABY KAREN NOOO 😢
she was really this young? oh hun
*pauses and stares at the Team* alright, do tell. who the HELL is this secret organization?
not only has this organization taken advantage of Karen when she was young and vulnerable, but they also had the audacity of not letting her go after she EXPLICITLY told them she quit a long time ago bc of her kids. Seriously, I bet Karen was even picked solely because she was homeless. Their justification would probably be: "she's got nothing left to lose, that's why she chose us. besides, it's not like anyone's going to miss her if she died on the job"
Not that note, there better not be anyone blaming Karen for not seeing this coming bc if it wasn't obvious, she was a stray kitten desperately trying to survive on her own all her life. Ofc she would take the job, how can she not? There was stability, someplace to go. Even if it came with risks. But above all, she had the courage to leave the job for her kids. if that's not a good mother, I don't know what else to say
man, this organization's EVIL evil
THE KIDS (the Team's trying to destroy me /silly)
FAMILYYYY 🥹
oh right, chat, say it with me now (mickey clubhouse style): Oh, Mario!
AY that's pretty good 😄👍
WELCOME TO THE CRIB ✌️
Karen, you're going to tell the truth eventually. It's better now or never

THIS WHOLE SCENE MANNN, IT LEGITIMATELY MADE ME CRY
IT GOT ME. THIS. THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE AN EMOTIONAL YET SILLY EPISODE.
you did it Team. here you go, my stamp of approval ⭐️
SAME MARIO SAME
uh. what.
we did get 4 and Karen as a fighting duo, could we get one with Mario?
welp Monoploy Man owns Amazon now, someone edit the wiki. but that's only in the SMG4 universe. FUCK
y'know, you could've started with that, Mr. Monopoly
WE"RE GOING HOME LET'S GOOOO 🎉
idc what SOME people, LET US HAVE THIS. let them go home 🥹
*record scratch* wait what?
the walkie-talkie? wha....
WHAT? HUH?!
WAIT NONONONO DON'T CUT TO BLACK TEAM TEAM DON'T YOU DARE ROLL THE CREDITS
*flips desk* are you. fuckin. kidding me? they did that? to US? to ME? AAAAAAAA [We'll Be Right Back, after these messages :)]
Uh anyway, congrats to FalconaVasa for your fanart being featured in the end credits🎉 getting some luigi fanart in here, we love to see it :)
.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
Nope. I'm still not over that ending. I gotta go and leave the room for a sec. I can't believe we went from emotional to "surprise! it's the start of an arc!!"
TEAM, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? AAAAAAAA. AAAAAAAAA.
Alright, I do have to wrap this review so I'll keep this quick. Without a doubt, we are entering into an arc starring Karen and Mario which can easily be connected to the "We Must Kill Mario" and "The Fight of All Time" episodes. As for the antagonist, we have a couple of choices:
The secret organization—they have been a big turning point in Karen's life and they keep bothering her with jobs she doesn't want to do
Marty—we do still have a hit on him and he still has a grudge against Mario
The father of Karen's kids—Karen mentioned it once in the last episode she starred in and may be associated with the organization itself
or an entirely new villain we don't know about
It can't be Mr Puzzles since (1) he's still in prison, (2) it's too early for that, (3) he doesn't have a personal grudge against Karen. And for those who say it's Shadow Man being part of the organization, I'm going to quote from Anaidon here:
Shadow Man is not canon in the SMG4 universe, and is merely an OC Anaidon puts it in the assigned scenes as an easter egg for fans to find. Ofc there is a chance that the Team could propose their OCs/AUs for future storylines (they are pretty cool). But at this time, after all the planning they've done, it just wouldn't be possible. Side note: if the Team's going to introduce a new villain, they plan several episodes for us to get to know the character before an arc actually happens.
What about Niles? We technically didn't meet him until the Revelations Arc. Or even Wren?
Niles wasn't entirely new, he stemmed from the Genesis arc so we as the audience can keep up with what we already knew. With Wren, we've seen him before WS, whenever Meggy retells it. And, knowing Meggy as a character, we knew Wren was a big influence on her. Now, the argument can be said with Mr Puzzles for him not appearing until the IGBP movie (episode-wise). But even then, he actually appeared until the end of WOTFI 2023 and was the mastermind working behind the scenes. His small appearances ARE his build-up to what his character was like.
When we're dealing with an arc, we have to have our main cast. Karen and Mario, obviously, and for the conflict to make sense, the antagonist has to be related to the two. But I never said there only had to be one antagonist. We could have more than one.
As for Mario, we might have to determine which side he's on. Mario accepted the mission given by whoever talked through the walkie-talkie. Accepted it, with a serious tone. It could be that he was threatened or offered a deal he can't refuse.
Well, here's my mini-theory (yes, cue the intro): when the sounds of the walkie-talkie were going off, it reminded me a lot of the static/standing-by noise Mr Puzzles done before, luring the Crew into the basement "No TV Make Mario Not Okie Dokie" and Mario in "Incredible Game Show Spectacular". Like it was hypnotic. If you really think about it, it's really symbolic at the end of the PV movie, Puzzles making the same noise at his defeat (representing the mind control over the Crew) and 4 smashing his head to stop said noise (representing their freedom). But AGAIN, not saying Puzzles is back for this arc. But I think the walkie-talkie noise was a tool to hypnotize whoever found it in the trash, which happened to be Mario of all people. That's why I'm leaning toward the organization or Marty being the ones behind it. Both of them keep a close eye on Karen and Mario that they have a chance to plant it there. And let's go back to the "We Must Kill Mario" episode, where the first thing we see Mario is when he charges toward the trash bin for a wizard outfit. This isn't the first time either when in "Trash Friends", Mario hides in the dump and is willing to eat trash-made spoiled spaghetti for his own purposes. If anyone would be able to catch on to this, it would be these two antagonists, to hypnotize Mario.
Sorry, got a little sidetracked there. More of my fever talk in there. Ben, you have anything to say?
"Something bad is about to happen." (uh yeah, no shit. still not over what you said last time.) another user: "Brings back such memories when you posted 🔔 and the whole (English) community went crazy thinking it had something to do with SMG4" "Calm down. Yeah, I'm going to do that when the time comes, haha" user: "leave us alone dude" (/silly) ":3"
...sigh. Really, Ben? You really are a menace, my god. Well, too bad I'm bilingual. Anyway, this has been an amazing episode with Karen and the kids. Everything from the voice acting to the animation to the script, oh boy. Team, you really did it. It really hit close to home, such a good story touching a bit of reality there. Like I said time to time again, love is a powerful force that helped the Crew overcome numerous obstacles. Even if it came to a cost, these characters always prevailed.
People have been saying that Karen ended up having no actual consequences by the end of the episode, but honestly, I want this ending. Some people are at risk of losing their homes or who already did. Some parents who suffered a terrible childhood do not want to pass it on to their kids. Some don't get the happy ending Karen and her kids did, but it's one wished for. For Karen, a character who we see working at multiple jobs and caring for her kids, let her have this. This show isn't meant to be realistic in the first place, but it does bring in real topics, and having these characters triumph over their hardships, sparks hope for the people also struggling with it.
If they can, you can too.
Well, that's all from me. Kinda left in charge of production last minute, so I gotta go! Thanks for stopping by, I'll see you all next time, and remember: numbers always go first.
....what's that?
I lost the bet so I owe you all cans of Rizz soda and ideas for my AU? uhhhhhhhh 🏃➡️🏃➡️🏃➡️
#smg4#smg4 spoilers#smg4 mario#smg4 karen#ink reviews#*chef's kiss*#peak cinema here#and we're just getting started#(still with a fever)#this one's a bit late srry guys
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Tired...
Alfie Solomons x gn!autistic!reader
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, me struggling to describe my headspace accurately
Summary: You're not having a great day. Alfie does his best to remedy this.
{This is so incredibly self indulgent its not even funny}
{Also send alfie requests?}
"Treacle I'm home! Where are you love?"
It took two tries before your mouth caught up to your mind and you were able to call out, "'m in the den."
You could hear his footsteps drawing closer, with Cyril's plodding alongside him. Alfie took one look at you, lying out on the floor in front of the sofa, and knew that something wasn't right.
"What's going on my dove?"
"I-" Your voice faltered, and you craned your neck to look up at him, desperately searching for some answer you could give him without saying 'everything'.
"That's alright, you just take your time, eh lovey?"
Cyril padded over to you, sniffing at your outstretched hand for a moment before settling down beside you. You ran a hand over his fur letting out a saddened sigh.
Alfie moved over to the sofa, plopping down with a grunt, "'scuse me, for not joining you, treacle. 'S just with me sciatica I might not be able to get back up again."
With your free hand, you reached up, grabbing for his hand. He gave it to you easily, running the rough pad of his thumb over your knuckles.
You stayed there for a few long minutes, staring up at the nothingness of the ceiling and trying to arrange your thoughts into something coherent enough to share with your husband.
Eventually, you clambered up onto the couch, tucking yourself under Alfie's arm. He squeezed you tightly against his side, pressing his lips to your hair for a long moment, waiting patiently.
"I just- I feel so slow today... like I have to build up every thought letter by letter. And I couldn't get any of my work done cause I'm so tired.... and and my brain doesn't work right cause I know it's all my head but I can't get it to go away-"
"Now hang on one second, petal," Alfie said, interrupting your rambling, "Your brain is not wrong."
"But it doesn't work right!"
Alfie shook his head vehemently, "No, no, no, it just works different- and that ain't your fault treacle, eh? It's just them fucking worms fault, yeah?"
You let out a huff, thinking back on the conversation you'd had with Alfie so long ago now, where you explained that sometimes it felt like there was something else in your head, poking around and making you think differently. He'd taken the metaphor and ran with it.
"I'm just tired of it- of all of it," You let out a sigh, trying to worm your way further into his side, "'s like the only thoughts I don't have to work for are the ones that are making me feel worse..."
"Listen to me, petal," Alfie said, threading his fingers with yours, and squeezing your hand to invite you to do the same, "All them lies those bloody worms are tellin' you, just ain't true. Right? So listen up you in there, you fuckin hitch hikers, you stop tellin' my boy your fuckin lies or I'll- I dunno, evict your sorry asses. yeah?"
You let out a huff of a chuckle, "Alf..."
You could practically feel him beaming into your hair, proud of himself, "Right, i think they got the message, don't you love?"
"Loud and clear." You nuzzled into him once more, giving his hand three rapid squeezes.
Alfie pressed his lips to your hair one more time, "I love you too, treacle."
~~~~
Enjoy this fic? Support me on kofi :)
#teddy06 writes#teddy06#teddy 06#teddy06writes#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x gn!reader#peaky blinders x autistic!reader#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x autistic!reader#alfie solomons x gn!reader
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Tough day today... and friendly reminder that being human is easier when we help each other.
I saw one of our neighbors, an older woman we sometimes talk to in passing, sitting outside of her house. I don't know what exactly made me look twice, but on second glance as we drove by I realized her walker was in the grass. She was otherwise just sitting there, like she had a thousand times before, so it would have been easy to assume she was fine and go on with my life as normal but something told me to go check in on her anyway.
She was not fine. She was the polar opposite of fine. Just diagnosed with terminal cancer not fine. No next of kin not fine. A veteran facing eviction from her house for missing rent while in the hospital not fine. In constant debilitating pain not fine. Only semi-lucid not fine. She was extremely alone not fine.
I thought, at most, she might be bored while unable to pick up her walker not fine. A five minute detour from my day not fine. A help her back into her house and say "see you later!" not fine. Instead I spent the last three hours with her because she was so scared and alone and no one should be alone.
We talked a lot while I was there. She's actually two years younger than my mom (who also has cancer but slightly better luck, I guess). I helped her into her house and got her a drink and we talked about what all is going on with her. None of it was good. I was as reassuring as I could be, but there's only so much of this I can actually help her with.
"Why did you come?" she asked through tears.
"Because you looked like you might need some help."
She called me an angel. I told her I was just doing my best. I told her that kindness should never be rare. That we should all try to make the world just a little bit better than it was.
She offered to pay me but I told her I was just there as a friend. Before today we were basically strangers. No need to repay me with anything other than her company, I assured her. She cried, a lot. I managed not to somehow. Something tells me she had needed to cry long before this but in being Strong she never had the chance to.
She needed to get her mail, which is a long walk when you're disabled because it is not at all handicap accessible (across a parking lot, over a bridge, across a small field). So I helped her get her mail. We stopped every three feet because her pain was so bad, but she was determined to be able to go do this with me and not just send me on an errand. I patiently stayed with her and reminded her, through her apologies, it was fine to take our time: there was a nice breeze and birds were singing. She appreciated this. She loves nature.
Halfway back she said she wanted to go to the pool. To put her feet in the water. She loves water, and has not been able to even see the pool in a month. Neither of us were dressed for swimming, but I took her to the pool anyway. There is a stair leading down to it, meaning she couldn't bring her walker, so I offered her my arm.
We went to the pool. She put her feet in the water and then, with more energy and enthusiasm than I'd seen the whole time, she jumped in. In her fancy dress! She was instantly ten years younger at least, clear and happy, floating in the sun. Dress and all. She grew up with a pool and had been on a swim team.
I sat by the edge of the pool while she swam, keeping her company and also making sure she was okay. When she got tired I took her back home and then had to help her get undressed and redressed. I made sure she felt no shame. Getting out of wet clothes is hard for anyone, let alone someone with like twenty pounds of tumors racking them with constant pain.
She was so fucking happy to have gone swimming.
She is trying to "make everything right" before she goes. Trying to repay her debt to society and her debts in general. She couldn't understand why the corporation that owns our houses wouldn't take her money. She was genuinely distressed -- not to be homeless on her deathbed but to not leave this world with a clean slate. I told her intent matters. She can only do her best.
This company not letting her repay her debt was their fault, not hers.
When I finally needed to go, I told her to let me know any time she needed a hand or just wanted company. She told me she was going to die tonight. I told her I hoped not, so I could see her tomorrow. I offered her a hug, we hugged and she sobbed for a solid ten minutes into my shoulder. I told her she was okay. That it was okay.
When I got home I cried myself, because I could not believe she was going through all of that alone. I cannot even imagine how isolated she must have felt. Once I pulled myself back together I sent her a text reminding her to reach out any time and I'd do my best to come over. Like, any time at all.
I hope she is here tomorrow.
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IT'S STRINGLESS' 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (+ early concept art compilation)
Posting this dumbass little video to start off the day since we have a lot of little gifts for our awesome community today.
One of those things is something i've been wanting to do for a very long while: posting a lot of the original concept art for stringless (since ive always enjoyed seeing other people's early concepts) some of these i have posted massively before, some are completely unseen, so it'll be fun
This one is the page that started it all, his design is at the same time largely unchanged and also completely different
All i have to say is that it originally said (regarding spamton and swatch) "they bicker like an old married couple" but then i thought about it and i changed it so theyre literally just married
Didnt mean to make swatchton, made it anyway lmfao
Right after that, i got working on neo designs, I wanted to make him really scary looking, the original concept was to make him look skeletal and generally for him to look insane and like he had been reanimated from the dead, but a lot of people had told me over time that they didn't really like the design, I was very defensive over it but I ended up taking criticism and i actually really like the new neo, it balances the uncanniness of the original design with the sleekness of my new art
Payton was a natural next step, without someone to sell the thorn ring there'd be no neo, so although his design visually stayed almost the same, he went through a lot of color revisions (thanks mostly to @maskedalterego, who helped me to nail his final color palette), he suggested the gloves, and helped me to balance the saturation of the design since really I've never had a good eye for color.
His final design, color wise, was just me experimenting using the colors of my sona at the time on him, which I was hesitant to do but was so happy with the palette that I kept it.
It's interesting that he was originally intended to be the pink addison (since he sells one of the snowgrave required rings), and the reason he ended up being the blue addison was corey beepington (and the eviction notice short which I have taken one too many concepts from), this still influenced me to make his outfit pink initially, which still is a huge part of his character design
That exact same night, I created concept art for Raster (weirdly, I was sure I created them before Payton, but it might be because I was generally uninterested in Payton earlier on), their design is also largely unchanged, I just got better with shapes and color, I also ended up changing their cheek markings after seeing some swatchton fanchild art by ne0nbandit
A first until now, the first concepts for payton neo were made on paper
I took very long on this design, and I only updated it every few weeks to make tweaks because I felt the concept was too good but my execution didnt make it justice
I'm very proud of how the design looks now, as of the latest neo redesigns, I feel I could finally make this idea justice
Swatch's design went through some last minute changes, I wanted to use this color palette for swatch to contrast with spamton, but decided against it, then i changed their hair to be longer, to make their Stringless design distinct from their regular Deltarune design
Historically, these two are pretty important, the first pieces of art I ever made featuring Rakhin's old design, when he wasn't part of stringless and I was just befriending rope (he made me Payton fanart first, fell in love with his style), the contrast is beautiful
Now to finish this post, here's some unseen Snowgrave route art I made over the time Stringless has been in development, they're all pretty quick sketches, but i love them nonetheless
Thanks everyone for the insane reception this AU has gotten, I haven't been feeling very good this whole year for a huge amount of reasons I can't get into, but Stringless and its community always helps me to remember why I do the things I do
Thanks for everyone's comments and everyone's kindness, thanks especially to @theropeaaa , for being the literal other half of this AU, without whom I couldn't have ever done the Stringless pages, @maskedalterego for helping me and listening to my ramblings since the start, @scamp-boxx for being this AU's biggest hype man (the first ever comment on the first spamton concept art was by them, and they helped me nail so much of the snowgrave route), @boykisserwoah and @weirdohno , for also being here from the start and making an absolutely insane amount of fanart oh my god, @gutamajunk , for motivating me to create Raster, and writing several story outlines on the first days of stringless that were the foundation for the pages, and diaryous milch and rory, our friends that have helped with character designs, story ideas, voice acting and have generally been instrumental to what stringless is today
THANKS EVERYONE <3
-Nick
#deltarune#deltarune au#stringless au#deltarune comic#spamton g spamton#swatch deltarune#swatchton#concept art
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Something Special 2
A/N: I’m new to this whole fanfic writing thing so go easy on me. I’m very open to feedback. Also, be informed that I’m bad at getting my ideas onto paper but I’m even worse with grammar, so don’t eat me up on that lol.
Paring: Dark Beefy CEO!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: 18+ all ageless bios with be blocked, non-con, Somnophilia, G!P Wanda Maximoff, legal age gap r is 21 Wanda is 38, dark!fic, stalking, cockwarmimg. lmk if I missed something Summary: Y/N is falling on hard times but Wanda is there to pick up the pieces Word Count: 1010
Chap 1 Chap 3
This is all so new for Wanda. Never before has she been so eager to meet someone. After your interaction at the store and your little escapade together in your apartment, she hasn’t been able to get you off her mind. She just knew she had to have you, you were struggling and she needed to save you. Even if it meant asking an old friend for a favor. Wanda was finally able to tear her eyes away from her computer screen as she finally had a plan to set into motion.
"This is all for you, Sugar; Daddy will have you all to herself soon." She scrolled till she came across the contact she was looking for. Kate Bishop. Kate Bishop was the wealthiest CEO in the area and had lots of connections which is just what Wanda needed.
The phone rang twice before being answered. "Wanda Maximoff, to what do I owe the pleasure?" someone on the other end of the telephone sang.
"I'm in need of a favor." She let out a sigh.
"Not even a 'hello' after not calling for months," Kate smugly observed.
Wanda considered hanging up since she despised Kate's arrogance. They were always at each other's throats throughout high school, fighting for popularity. And Kate was usually at the top.
Wanda knew it was a big favor she was about to ask for, but she was hoping Kate would take it easy on her this time.
“Kate, I need you to evict one of your tenants.”
“Wha-“
"I'll pay you whatever you want, please, because this is important." She begs, oblivious to how desperate she sounds. On the other end, Kate sighs.
"I'm not interested in your money, Wanda. If I evict this tenant you're requesting, I'll need a lot more than that, and I'm not confident you'll be willing to give me what I want." Kate answered smugly, a smirk on her face.
"Anything Kate, please." She didn't care if she sounded desperate; she'd give anything in the world to be with you.
"Wands, who is the tenant?"
"Y/N Y/L/N she's staying in one of your brownstone apartments."
"All right, Wanda, I want one of your companies, specifically your computer engineers."
Wanda's computer engineering firm was not just her first, but also her most profitable. She'd be able to live lavishly and then some if she gave this company away, but she'd take a huge hit. She paused momentarily to consider her options, but she knew she had her answer when she went to her computer and saw you crying because of your predicament.
"It's yours," Wanda replied, "so consider it done," Kate remarked as Wanda hung up the phone.
"I hope you know how much I love you, Sugar," she whispered as she rubbed her bulge through her boxers. "After this, I'll be able to take care of you and make sure you have everything you need." She said to the computer screen.
Wanda was aroused at the thought of meeting you, but she realized that if she didn't leave within the hour, she wouldn't be able to "accidentally" run into you at your workplace. Instead, she stood up and took a cold shower.
——-
You hadn't realized how long you'd been crying until you looked at your clock and raced out of bed. You were rushing out the door and hadn't noticed the sign on your door. You could only pray that your boss wouldn't fire you for being late again.
When you finally arrived at the cafe, you got situated before opening the shop. Your first customer was a familiar face from the day before. It was the lady who bought your groceries.
"How may I help you today, ma'am?"
"Why so formal?" she asked, smiling. "I would like a small, vanilla frappe."
"Coming right up, can I get a name for your order?"
“Wanda“ she said confidently “how much do I owe you“
You smiled at her “It's on the house as a thank you for yesterday”
She reached into her pants pocket and pulled down and $100 bill anyway “Keep the change, if you want to thank me, you can give me your number”
You were debating whether or not to put your number on her drink as you were mixing it. But when you finished the drink, you figured you had nothing to lose and wrote your phone number on the side of the cup where you knew she'd find it.
"Wanda," you called out. As she approached the counter to get her drink, her hand brushed against yours.
“Thank you, Sugar,“ she said before leaving the cafe.
——-
Finally, you arrived home. Wanda has been the only thing on your mind all day. You were about to open the door with a happy sigh when you noticed the sign on your door. You couldn't believe it; it was an eviction notice. You were aware that you were past due on your rent for the previous month, but your landlord assured you that it would not be an issue. You instantly ripped the notice from your door and hurried inside, sat on your bed, stared at the notice, and wept until you had no more tears. What the fuck were you going to do now? The idea of having to live on the street terrified you like no other, so you decided it would be best if you slept so you’d be able to think things over in the morning.
Once Wanda was certain you were sound asleep. She crept in through your window again, just like the night before. She felt horrible seeing you cry like that, and she wanted nothing more than to soothe you, so she climbed into bed and undressed. She removed the covers from your nude body. Her cock was hard as she went into your pussy slowly. She didn't move because she didn't want to fuck you; she just found this comforting and thought it would comfort you as well.
"Don't worry, Sugar; everything will be fine soon."
#wanda maximoff#wandavision#wanda maximoff x reader#dark!wanda maximoff#dark wanda maximoff x reader#dark wanda maximoff#beefy g!p wanda maximoff#dark beefy ceo wanda maximoff#beefy wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda x reader#yandere wanda maximoff#wanda marvel#Spotify#Something Special AU
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Valentine’s Day Update!



💋: Happy Special Little Hearts Day for everyone!~ I hope the month has been fun and full of beautiful things. *laughs* Do you have any fun ideas for tomorrow or today? Or have you already done your cute Valentine’s Day stuff? *smiles* This is one of my favorite times of year, I feel so energized!~ I’ll be having a lot of fun for sure, I hope the same for you! If you want some last minute nails I’m having a Valentine’s Day discount till the end of the month at my nail salon. Bring a friend or your partner for an extra surprise!



🍷: Hm hm hm~ What is everyone’s plans for the lovely hearts holiday? Hope you have someone to spend it with even if it’s just for the night.~ Feather Brain is trying to get me to go clubbing, I’ll see how fair he’ll go before he gives up. *smirks* On another note the cafe has Valentine’s Day treats for the whole month, we’re also doing bulk orders for parties and special occasions. I tried a new hot chocolate recipe, Strawberry White Chocolate I hope everyone enjoys it. We’re also having a special discount just for tomorrow if you come with your partner or partners you’ll get a discount and singles get their own special discount. Hope to see you around and remember to have fun and be safe.~



🦊: Happy almost Valentine’s Day!~ Don’t I look so cute? 🥰 I treated myself to a little lazy day and got myself a new plushie, new buddy to my bed. If you’re also interested our mailbox is always open.~ Make sure to send that special someone a little message and remember Valentine’s Day isn’t just about cutesy words don’t be scared to be a little spicy~ *winks laughing*
⭐️: omg a post ! 🤣 I hope everyone has been having a good month even if it’s just tiny things 🥰 If you’re interested in any of my characters or would like to get to know them you’re welcome to interact with this post or send in some asks!
🩵🩵: @monsterhigh-cb [🐟🤍💍 && ⚡💙 && 👻💜 && 🐺💕 && 🎤💖 && 👑💛] @evicted-oc [☕️🤎 && 🐼🖤 && 🔦💛 && 🧊🩵 && 💄🖤 && 🏴☠️🤍] @theinvitation-bot [🐭🩶💒] @welcome-to-maniac [🐇🖤 💍 && 🌻❤️ && 🌕❤️🔥 && 🐿️❣️ && 🐉🩶] @fantasyaespa [🐈 💚💍 && ☀️🩵💍] @multi-joong [🌧️🧡💒 && 🎨💚 && ☠️🖤] @kardpackcb [🌙💝 && 🐺❤️🔥] @obsession-cb [🍰🖤💍 && 🍪🖤 && 🧁🖤] @themuses-rp [💃❤️🔥 && 💀🩵], @lunaaofthemoon [🌖💜], @raiden-oc [🌑🖤], @badbf-cb [🍭💙]
Possible New Residents: @faywithlove @folklore-cb @welcometosector1 @reve-rv @oppositesattraxt @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @thesugaredalchemists @redlight-cb @shin-haneul @crimson-l @clubwnderland @dragonrider-cb @demigods-ateez @secretscb @fallenangels-cb @elmyraoc-cb @dc-heroes-cb @kavengers-assemble [DM + / -]
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Hi! Do you want to play yuri horror visual novels this Yuriween? I have some great recommendations for you.
I’m sure it will cover all you need I have a lot of visual novels ranging from vampire lesbians to vtubers.
I’m sure you will enjoy some of this titles. It’s also free to play. I hope you enjoy some of this games and make sure to support the creators by rating their game.
Welcome to the Execution Hour!
The River Bride
"The River Bride" is a visual novel based on the events of the bridal sacrifices in Ancient China. Players play as Fu Suyu, the current year's bridal sacrifice. Experience how Fu Suyu deals with her fate through accepting her duty, fighting for her life, or even experiencing love for the last time.
Maple: I love historical yuri.
Mama
One day, you’ll thank me. After all… mother knows best.
Today’s the first day of HimeCon, a Yuri convention. You’re attending with your girlfriend who’s a vendor in the artist alley. At the convention, you receive a text that ends up changing… everything.
You find yourself back in your childhood home, except this time, something’s amiss— and you’ve got to escape.
She’s always w̶̨̠̟̳͚̮̫͒͒̏̏̌͑͊̒́̂̈̀̓̒͘͠ā̷̧̠͎̤͖̝̠̯͎̎̇͒̋͑̾͑̑͂̂̽͐͂̄͘̕̕͠͠͝t̷̢̙̦͖͙̹̪̠̳̰͛̓̇̀̂̾́̉̍̈́͌̇̔̑͝ç̷̥̮͓͔̣̆̀̆̔̈́̈̀͋͛̓̈͐̕͝h̵̢̧̹̲͇̭̥̰͎͖͇̎̓͒̎̂͑̽͒͑̓͗͗̕̕͘͜͜͝͠͝͝ͅi̸̛̝̳̳̠͇͍̓͒̈́̑́̒̓̊͐͒̆͘͝ͅͅñ̶̢̡̨͓̥̞͉͓͚̞̞̞̲̤̹͙͍̙͛̋̏͗̍̽̇̒̅͊͜͠ͅg̸̪͇͋̓͋̍̈́̇̽̿̑̋̏̏̈́̋̾̋̃͘ͅ you, isn’t she?
Maple: Everyone should be allowed to have one kill count in their life.
Oto-hime
Shimako, a socially anxious office worker, escapes the pressures of her company's beach retreat by fishing alone, only to stumble upon a trapped turtle by the shore. When she rescues it, Shimako is mysteriously whisked away to a hidden underwater palace, where she meets Oto-hime, a breathtakingly beautiful but enigmatic princess. Drawn in by Oto-hime's charm and her lavish hospitality, Shimako soon realizes there is something unsettling beneath the princess's kind façade.
Maple: I want to be in a toxic relationship. I totally didn’t sneak my own game here. I want someone to gaslight me.
Underholo
A group of girls are hoping to run a successful VTuber agency so that they can chill out together for the rest of their lives but, unfortunately, the VTuber industry is secretly rigged by an underground syndicate called UnderHolo.
With your expert managerial skills, bring your very own VTuber Agency to the top of the leaderboard!
Maple: I still want to be a gay vtuber playing gay games everyday with my gay vtuber friends.
Shut-in Vampire
Oh no! Mayu’s in a pinch! She’s woefully behind on paying the rent, and her scary landlady, Miss Himemiya, has issued an ultimatum. Mayu needs to earn ¥100,000 by the end of October, or she’ll be kicked out!
Being evicted from her home would be bad enough, but Mayu has a secret: she’s actually a vampire. Mayu hasn’t been a vampire for a full year yet, and the church is keeping close tabs on her to ensure she’s been behaving herself. According to the stone-faced Sister Juriel, it’s the church’s standard policy to execute all vampires without a fixed address, lest they start roaming the streets causing chaos.
Maple: Where can I send her all my money?
End of the World
~The year 6666, October 31st , The Demon of Wishes was awoken underneath a monster extermination company~
You are Remoryn, the Demon of Wishes who's been sealed away for 4000 years.
After being released, the legend of the 3 heroes, the holy weapons, the Halloween party surrounding you, and the disappearance of... her... made everything feel overwhelmingly strange and unfamiliar.
On top of that, you're being held captive by a person named Jeok-Ah.
Who wishes for...
the end of the world
Maple: I will end the world for you.
Dead End
Closing Notes:
Watch Girls Band Cry
Maple: I'm not asking.
#yuri#visual novel#horror#halloween#indie games#yandere#vampires#girls love#girls loving girls#sapphic#yuri recs#toxic yuri#yuri vn#yandere core
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JUJUTSU KAISEN X FEM READER
Part 1/ introduction
It was raining, gojo and megumi sat outside the dirty old building as they waited for yuji and nobara, who they sent off to exorcise a cursed spirit that lived inside a nearby building. Awkward was an understatement as gojo tried and failed to start up some small talk between him and megumi. "Soooo nice weather huh?" He said, grinning as he looked up at megumi from his position on the bench, however the only answer he got answer was a disapproving sigh as megumi shoved his hands in his pockets while turning his attention elsewhere. Gojo huffed and leant back against the wall behind him and the two men closed their eyes, enjoying the soft sound of rain pattering on distant rooftops.
Everything was going to plan yuji and Nobara had nearly finished their assignment by the time the two outside had felt it, an overwhelming amount of cursed energy. Megumi immediately felt it and stood straight, getting into a fighting stance as he scans the surrounding area before looking at gojo who still sat on the beanch, "what the heck is that? Is there a second cursed spirit here?" He asked through gritted teeth as he tried to locate the source, but it felt like they were surrounded.
Ominous steps echoed out from behind a nearby building and megumi turned to face it, his skin prickling with goosebumps as he looks to gojo who only grinned wider as he looked up at the grey sky. "It's alright megumi, I know them" gojo says in that smooth voice of his as he finally stands up from the bench. "Its.. a person?" Megumi mumbles to himself as they both stare in the direction of the footsteps, watching tentatively for what would walk out from behind the building. But it was just you, you who were too lost in thought to notice your dear friend gojo and walked straight past him, that is until you felt a hand on your shoulder.
"Hah?? Who the hell-" you stop dead in your tracks as you turn to face the little punk who decided to touch you today, only to freeze up when you see those familiar stands of white hair. "Gojo?.." you mumbled softly with a look of disbelief as you turn to fully look at him. "[Name]! It's been so long!" he smiles warmly, as if the last time you spoke to eachother was only yesterday. "Yeah I guess so" you said curtly, crossing your arms as you lean back to examin him and the younger man, who was looking at you with a odd expression as you start to talk again. "So your still with jujutsu high? What are you a teacher now? Your way to old to be a student" you mumble with a snide smirk as he dramatically gasps and grabs at his chest.
"Gojo" megumis strained voice cuts through the air like a hot knife through butter "who is that, whats going on?" He sounded stressed, probably confused as he looked between the two of you, you grinned and waved at him "oh! Are you his student? I'm [Name] me and gojo went to jujutsu together!" You introduce yourself with a small wave before turning back to gojo "it was nice to see you again, after everything.." she says, turning around to leave before her shoulder was grabbed once again. "Take this" gojo said, handing you a small piece of card, written on it was his contact information, and also the information of jujutsu high. "I want you to actually consider it this time" you sigh and shove the card into your pocket "I promise I'll think about it"
"I promise I'll think about it" is your nice way of saying hell no, no way you wanted to go back there is what you thought until you got home and noticed the eviction noticed taped to your front door "gah! what the hell?!" You grit out through your teeth as you read the letter, and what's even more annoying? That weirdo gojo made sure to highlight the 'free housing' part of the jujutsu contract. "That punk! He knew this was gonna happen" you thought with clenched fists as you prepare to pack your bags.
Back at the dirty old apartment building nobara and yuji had just finished their assignment, exiting the building with the young boy they saw a hushed conversation between gojo and megumi. "Dont let them- ah! You two finished up already? Whose this?" Gojo says referring to the little kid, novara answers him as yuji zones out, he can't shake the feeling that something bad has happened and megumi's uncomfortable expression is only making his suspicions grow.
Gojo mentions going out for sushi to celebrate and so they do, completely unaware of the decision you had decided to make.
Sorry if this sucks, I haven't planned anything properly yet ;P
#imagine#fanfiction#fanfic#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Necessary but Stupid -> The StarvingArtist!Dream/Plasma AU You Didn't Request
UM. So. This was definitely just a weird little AU idea I had... definitely not while hooked up at csl daydreaming about Dream & Hob... that I was just going to dump in @gabessquishytum's Ask, as one does with weird little AU ideas. And then it kind of exploded. Into an actual story.
---Rated: G. Logistics in the tags. Ao3 link ---
There's no stopping the dark cloud that passes over Hob's head the moment he opens the door to the plasma center. But now he can smile brightly through it and let the storm blow quietly away. The dark memories this place holds still surface every time he walks in, but he's never once considered not going. Even though it's been ten years since Eleanor and the babe died of some rare blood condition that triggered childbirth complications, Hob's still there twice a week, every week, rain or shine.
He waves to the clerk at the desk. The security guard greets him with a comment about the latest football match, and Hob makes an appropriately pained, commiserating expression. He asks the technician taking his blood pressure how his honeymoon went — Côte d'Albâtre, right? — and Hob reminisces cheerily about his own trips to France.
Nobody’s ever exactly happy at the plasma center, but the sunny professor’s relentlessly friendly chatter brightens everyone’s day. All the staff know him by name, his surprisingly colorful stories can help pass the time on those long-line days, and his smile always lights up the room.
Sure, Hob can be kind of opinionated — like whenever he declares that death is stupid and nobody should have to die of preventable diseases! Everyone just goes along with it, and it’s so cruel! (Nobody actually disagrees, but he is very vocal about it.) The first time he said this — sitting hunched with downcast eyes, just weeks after his wife’s death — his voice was soft with hopelessness, and it cracked as he held back tears. But ten years later, when people ask him why he’s still doing this when he’s a tenured professor with a summer cottage and a retirement plan, Hob declares jovially that death is stupid! Nobody has to die when he can give them something they need from his own arms — it’s a renewable resource!
Hob, it cannot be said enough, brightens everyone's day — usually.
But not today. Not everyone's.
Dream cannot believe the insufferable words coming out of this man’s mouth. It's the first day Dream’s set foot in this particular center, and he already wants to go home.
But home is the problem. Dream's new apartment is much cheaper than the building that just evicted him, but this latest series of paintings are taking far longer to complete than he'd hoped. And also, the art world just fucking sucks. Dream can't fool himself. Even when the paintings are ready, it's unlikely they'll sell well enough or soon enough to plug the gaps in his income.
For years, Dream played the whole shitty-jobs roulette to support his art, but ever since he was kidnapped and spent years in a glass cage in a basement, he can’t even manage that. Seriously, try explaining that kind of resumé gap to a job interviewer. When he does manage to get work, it always goes bad fast. Dream wasn’t exactly totally undamaged before, but now he feels like he's all scars.
Dream is not here by choice. He cannot imagine who would be.
He'd gone to his old plasma center for years — till he was forced to move — in order to make ends meet. Today, he's here to fill in the glaring gap between the meager payment he got for a small watercolor last January, his savings, and a near-maxed-out credit card. (Nearly maxed out in the hasty scramble to get to a cheaper place to live. Moving was expensive. Funny how that works.) The plasma center is, in some ways, far preferable to many of the jobs he's had in the past, and it allows Dream to spend more time on his art. But it is absolutely unfathomable how anybody could pursue an eternity of this if they didn’t have to.
Dream keeps his head down avoiding the attention of the chatty professor. He stays quiet. His cold, bony hands are tucked into his long cardigan sleeves except for when he's chugging water, nearly by the gallon. He's about 2kg from the next weight class. Unfortunately, he's lost weight since his eviction, but if he could bump the scale a little higher, it would mean a higher draw — and a slightly higher payment. He's always cold these days, so the heavy sweater isn't a hardship, and the water fills up his stomach and supplements his inadequate lunch of oatmeal and stolen sugar packets.
The first time Dream meets Professor Hob’s eyes is when they’re sliding the needle into his arm and Dream has to turn his head away sharply. Dream was never afraid of needles — not until that night when someone (he later learned it was a twisted old cult leader named Burgess) stuck him with… something that knocked him out cold and he woke up in the basement. These days, although he's done this many times before, when the metal pricks his skin, Dream still lays frozen like an ice sculpture as his heart pounds against his chest.
He has sold his vintage leather jacket, his treasured collection of elegant handmade cloaks (there was a theatrical phase, it’s complicated), and most of his books (the shelves of his sparse apartment now hold only a few cheap volumes of blank paper for his sketches). But it wasn’t enough.
Burgess was years ago, but Dream's life still lies in ruins.
He does not like being here. But it seems that this — his body's materials, his very essence — is the only thing of value he has to offer the world. This most basic biological function, the blood pumping through his veins, is all anyone wants of him now.
So despite his fear, he lets them bleed him.
Hob is usually quiet when he’s hooked up to the machine. He'll chat in the line and in the lobby and at the vitals check, but on the donation floor, he politely minds his own business. Here, everyone retreats into their own world, usually scrolling on their phone or staring at the clock. People don't usually feel like talking when they’ve got a needle in their arm. And Hob’s an extrovert, not an asshole.
But today, the man beside him looks over, and Hob can’t wrench his eyes away. The man is thin and sheet white and his eyes are huge and watery over jutting cheekbones. His lips might be trembling.
“Alright there?” Hob asks kindly.
The man’s head twitches. It might be a nod.
Hob has seen people pass out here before. With the way this guy looks, Hob’s mildly shocked that anyone thought it was a good idea to drain him of vital fluids. But the people here know their business. His numbers must be under control, or else he wouldn’t’ve been allowed in.
Still, under control doesn’t necessarily mean ok.
So Hob gently keeps the conversation going with the man. Dream, he learns and his heart flutters at the name. He weirdly doesn’t seem bothered by Hob’s donation floor chatter (maybe because he's too bothered by the needle in his arm to notice anything else). Dream doesn’t even pull out a phone. He seems to hang on Hob’s every word of small talk.
“I can shut up if you’d life,” Hob offers when he realizes with a shock that he’s babbled through the entire first draw. “It just seemed like you needed some distraction.”
“Please.” Dream blushes slightly. Well, at least his skin is getting some blood. “Tell me about… your experiences. What… have you been doing?”
Huh?
What has he been doing? That’s vague.
But if anyone can find a way to fill a vague prompt, it’s Hob. So he chatters some more about the union organizing at his university and a ridiculous new scheduling system for the adjuncts — it’s like they’ve taken all the worst aspects of on-demand scheduling from the fast food industry and applied it to higher education for some incomprehensible reason. One of his colleagues had a class — and £2000 of pay — cancelled two days before term started. But not everything’s bad. Hob knows the students are planning a walkout next week, which he fully supports and has already adjusted his lessons to compensate for the lost time. Also, there’s a new pizza place on campus which is rather decent.
He really is just rambling.
But Dream seems to need it. He hasn’t looked down at his arm once, and Hob’s certain that’s for the best.
Dream has to admit that the insufferable professor has made the time go by a lot quicker. He’s shocked when they’re sliding the needle out of his arm, then wrapping his elbow up, and he’s free to go. He mumbles what he hopes is a polite goodbye to Hob, who is also finishing up, and then practically stumbles out into the rain.
He clutches his cardigan around him and pulls up his hood and plods away from the center. This place is closer to the new apartment than his previous plasma center, but it’s still a half hour hike home. The buses take even longer — his crappy apartment isn't exactly on a convenient route. But at least walking saves him a few quid.
“Hey!”
The voice makes Dream flinch. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a car slow down beside him, and his heart ratchets up in his chest. He doesn’t look over, only hunches deeper into his wet cardigan and walks faster.
“Hey, Dream!”
Oh.
Belatedly, Dream recognizes Hob’s voice. He finally looks up to see Hob looking out his car window and smiling despite the rain streaming onto his face.
“Looks like you could use a ride!” Hob jerks his head toward the passenger’s seat. “Hop in!”
Dream stares at the kindly professor. Who offers a stranger a ride in their car? Sure, Dream spent the last forty five minutes listening to every mundane detail of this guy's super normie professional life, but they still barely know each other! And if Hob actually knew Dream — a failed starving artist and all around fuckup, consistently two minutes away from homelessness — there’s no way he’d want to associate with him outside of the polite minimum of chatter at the center.
So what the fuck is Hob playing at?
“Come on, you’ll get soaked!” Hob prods.
Fear strikes Dream, and he recoils, stumbling away from the vehicle.
“Dream? You alright there?”
But Dream is already running, tearing off through the rain. He cuts through a shitty neglected park, climbs a fence and gets chased by a rottweiler through a closed off parking lot, and dashes across a highway — almost getting hit twice. He doesn’t stop running until he’s home.
Or, well, what passes for his home now.
Dream dries off, makes some tea, and grabs a sketchbook. His hand shakes as he doodles, but the process calms him and grounds his mind.
Then, as usual, after his fear begins to ebb, he feels stupid.
His mind replays the afternoon's events. Hob’s smile is brilliant in his memory. Though the initial snatches of overheard conversation were insufferable — not to mention incomprehensible — his recitation of the mundane details of life had been oddly calming. And, though Dream had perhaps not appreciated it in the moment, Hob had seemed genuinely concerned.
The more Dream thinks about it, the stupider he feels. Worse, he feels ashamed. How rude to run from Hob, who’d only wanted to help!
The scar tissue that has proliferated over Dream’s heart has truly damaged his ability to function among decent people. That night, he lays awake for a long time thinking about this. He should probably just never go back to the plasma center. He can’t imagine facing Hob after reacting so poorly to his kindness.
But the next day, after he scribbles up the month’s expenses and tries to make the math work, Dream realizes he has no choice.
The day after that, he’s plodding back to the plasma center.
The feelings of shame are almost overwhelming, and Dream slouches in with his head lowered, shoulders hunched, and eyes averted from everyone.
“Dream!” Hob’s voice is like a warm bubble bath. “Hope you got home alright.”
Dream can barely look at him, but Hob's smile is like a ray of sun on Dream’s face. There’s a cloud of concern shadowing his eyes, but he’s otherwise as cheery as ever.
“Forgive me. I…” Dream cannot explain.
“Look, I’m sorry. I totally overstepped,” Hob says. “I know I can be a bit much, and I shouldn’t’ve pushed.”
Dream cannot believe that Hob is apologizing to him.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Hob said gingerly, “was that your first time? It’s just you didn’t seem particularly pleased with the whole process. I thought I’d likely never see you in here again.”
“It was not. I have done this…” Too many times to count. “…frequently.” Dream finds the prospect of explaining the complexity of his situation too daunting. But he is touched by Hob’s concern. “I do not enjoy the process.”
Hob makes a sympathetic noise.
“But I did enjoy…” Dream pauses. What the fuck is he doing? Hob’s been kind enough to overlook his rudeness; Dream should just shut up and leave him alone. But maybe Dream has been alone too long, been too long without a sympathetic ear, because he keeps on mumbling, “I enjoyed hearing about your university. With the union… and the pizza… and everything.”
Impossibly, Hob brightens even further. “I could take you! The pizza really is delicious—Oh, shit, sorry, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” The cloud of concern is back as he takes in Dream’s downcast gaze. “I’m being too much. Sorry, I didn't mean to push!”
“No, not at all. It sounds lovely. I just…” Dream shifts awkwardly. “They don’t exactly pay us enough here for going out.”
“Oh, I’ll get it!" Hob says with a wave of his hand. "It’s no problem. I’d love to take you out. You looked like you could’ve used a good meal after that last one. Have you at least eaten something so far today?” Hob tries to keep the worry out of his voice so he doesn’t sound like a mother hen. All the instructional materials are very explicit about not donating on an empty stomach, but he knows that people do what they have to.
“I have,” Dream says honestly. His lips twitch as he takes in Hob’s worried look. But Hob's smile, even suppressed, is a beautiful thing. “Really,” Dream stresses. “Oatmeal is cheap. I've had enough to be getting on with things. But later…”
“Great!” Hob’s heart flutters, but he stamps down the feeling. The memory of Dream running from him twists at his heart. He never wants to make him afraid again.
On the donation floor, they're next to each other again. And again Hob chatters happily about whatever he can think of to keep Dream distracted. It all seems to go well until they emerge together into the parking lot and Hob notices Dream tense as he glances at Hob’s car.
“We can hop on the bus, if you prefer,” Hob says. “The campus is just down the main line, and I've got extra passes.”
Dream blushes, and his shoulders hunch like he's ashamed. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“It’s nothing of the sort! It saves on gas and it's good for the planet!”
At the bus stop, Hob notices the way Dream’s gaze constantly flicks around his surroundings. Even when he looks down and hunches in on himself, his eyes remain alert, as if he's still hyperaware of every movement on his periphery. Hob wants so badly to reach out and comfort him and wipe away whatever has caused him to move through life with such fear, but he doesn't dare overstep.
Hob is glad that the pizza place is in the bustling, well-lit central food court. Dream's body relaxes somewhat, and that specific tension which Hob had notice in the parking lot doesn't return. Hob buys him a giant slice of spinach, mushroom, and feta and a sealed bottle of water, and Dream even cracks a smile.
“I apologize for my behavior,” Dream says as they find seats at a plastic table in the middle of the food court.
“No need," Hob says. "I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You were being kind, and I reacted… extremely.” Dream takes a deep breath and then a long sip of water.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Hob hastens to assure him, "about… whatever happened… if you don't want to."
Dream nods. He knows. Despite his annoyingly resurgent fear, he feels safe around Hob. So slowly, hesitantly, he begins to explain.
It’s an abbreviated form of the story. Dream avoids the details of how Burgess thought he could siphon the life force from vibrant young adults. How he'd drawn a whole following into his delusion, even though he'd ultimately kept Dream for himself. How (Dream had learned later) Burgess had boasted about having a fresh young man, the font of youth, trapped in his basement — and no one had done anything, whether because he was just a rich eccentric who could get away with a "joke" like that or because he'd paid enough people off. He didn't tell Hob how the elder Burgess hadn't ever been held accountable because he'd died before any of it had come to light, and the younger Burgess had fallen into a coma. A care worker had ultimately taken a wrong turn, stumbled into the basement, and that was how the police were finally called to Fawney Rig. But since no one was alive (or conscious) for a big, thrilling trial, the entire ordeal just fizzled quietly into the background.
It’s not the whole story. But it's enough.
Hob’s face grows progressively more horrified. He's abandoned his half-eaten pesto and prosciutto slice. It sits cold in front of him now. He feels sick.
“I make art,” Dream says into the silence. “It is not lucrative, but I can work when and how I wish. I have not… had a great deal of luck with traditional employment. Especially not since… those events.”
“Right. Of course." Hob's voice cracks over his words. For once, he's struggling to extract his usual chatter. "Can’t imagine anything’s easy after that.”
Hob doesn't touch the remainder of his pizza, but Dream polishes his off. He looks oddly relaxed now, as if, in the telling, some of the weight of the horrifying story has slid from his body.
“I’d love to see your art,” Hob says on the bus back to the plasma center parking lot. Belatedly, he cringes at the presumption, wondering if it's too much, knowing now that he really ought not to push his interest onto a bloody kidnap victim.
“I have a website,” Dream says, bringing it up on his phone and showing the address to Hob. Then he stands, though they're only about halfway back to the center. “This stop is closer to my home. I… Thank you. For the meal. And the kind ear. Perhaps… I will see you next Tuesday?”
“Of course,” Hob says, and a little bubble of happiness rises in his chest. “It’s Tuesday and Thursday for me until the schedule changes next term.”
Over the next few weeks, Hob isn’t always next to Dream on the donation floor. But he asks Dream to tell him about his latest project afterwards, so Dream has something to think about during the donation. And also so that it's not just Hob chattering away at their post-donation dinners. Which are happening regularly now. Sometimes they go for pizza, sometimes a good curry or a hefty shawarma; Hob introduces Dream to the pubs with the best (and biggest) burgers. He knows all the places to get a solid, filling dinner, not because he's concerned about getting his money's worth but because Hob just enjoys a good meal and he's more than happy to help put some meat on Dream's bones.
And get the artist to open up.
Slowly, Dream begins to do just that.
It starts to seem like Dream feels safe with Hob. When they're out, he stands close to Hob, as if comforted by his presence. His shoulders begin to straighten out, and he hunches less when they're together. Dream's gaze is still alert, but it rarely sinks to the floor now, and his eyes don't flick fearfully around so much when he's with Hob.
Three weeks after they meet, Dream lets Hob drive him home.
Two weeks after that, he invites Hob inside to see his current projects.
Hob knew Dream was a good artist from the first glimpse at his website, but seeing the bright canvases in person is just stunning. The glistening abstractions echo the swirling galaxies and deep, black voids of the universe. The colors blend in fantastic points of light or unearthly flames or brilliant streaks across the sky. The textures — flattened out in the photos — give an impression of looking into entire worlds. The brushstrokes are mountain ranges and deep ocean trenches and shaded valleys where, somehow, Hob can imagine entire populations living and thriving within the fibers of the canvas.
"The, erm… the university has spaces for community exhibits," Hob says, struggling to bring himself out of the captivating images as if wading out of a dream. How appropriate. "I could look into that, see if you could do a show. Maybe the Art Department could have you in for a lecture, too — you could talk about the real-life challenges of being an artist, the actual work involved, the practical—" Oh no. He's being too much again. "I mean, of course, you don't have to! I won't say anything without—"
Dream's arms are around Hob's shoulders before Hob can even turn away from the canvas. His wild, dark hair is tucked against Hob's cheek as Dream tightens his grip.
Hob's hands slowly move to Dream's back. He can't speak for a long moment. Instead, his hands gently rub against the thin material of Dream's shirt. Hob can feel the edges of his spine and ribcage, but Dream also feels softer than Hob would've imagined the first time he saw him, pale and shaking, weeks ago.
"Thank you," Dream murmurs. He steps back, and his gaze lowers, but now it's not filled with fear and sadness. He's smiling shyly. "If you could do that, I-I… would be grateful."
Hob can do that!
He's in Medieval History himself, but he's friends with half the Art History department due to overlapping lectures, the occasional historical consultation or spontaneous debate, and just being a friendly guy. And the Art History people know a few of the more curious, historically-aware Art people due to various collaborations and consultations on the evolution of modern styles and techniques and the socio-political contexts of artistic development.
Hob, with his talent for striking up conversation, takes less than a week to find several interested parties. And once he shows them Dream's work, everyone is extremely eager to invite the talented local artist to campus!
The next time Hob walks into the plasma center, Dream is already beaming. His smile is bright enough to singlehandedly banish the residual storm cloud that always follows Hob over the threshold.
"I hit the next weight class," Dream says. He leans subtly into Hob's side.
"Good on you!" Hob says, beaming right back. When he tells Dream about the interest in his work, Dream's arm snakes around his waist for a subtle but firm half-hug.
At Dream's first show (he's already scheduled in with both the Art and Art History Departments — the latter wants to address the reality of artist's lives across time — and, hell, Hob's even lobbying his own History Department to get Dream in as part of a series on creative work throughout history), Hob is enamored with one canvas he hasn't seen before. From a distance it's a dark oil-slick abstraction with iridescent slashes of green and blue, but up close, Hob can see the feathery edges of wings.
He cannot explain the sudden, confusing wave of sorrow-joy-awe it provokes deep in his chest.
"Departed souls," Dream says softly, coming up behind Hob, "come back as ravens. Or so it is believed by some."
Hob sniffs and tries to control the itch in his eyes as he turns toward Dream. "Oh?"
"I painted this one soon after I regained my freedom. It felt like a part of me had not survived the imprisonment. It was… necessary, perhaps, to lose something in order to regain my life, but it hurt nonetheless."
"Oh." Hob doesn't know what else to say, but he reaches out, gingerly wrapping an arm around Dream, waiting for any hint of refusal, but Dream turns into him and clutches him tight, and Hob's arms tighten around him in turn. "It's beautiful," he finally says, his words muffled against Dream's hair.
"I think now… maybe… some part of me that had not survived… has come back. In some form."
And Hob is gone. Tears leak down into Dream's hair. Hob clutches at him for support, but he can feel himself shaking, and now it's Dream rubbing soothing patterns into his back and tightening the embrace.
When they finally pull back, Dream wipes Hob's cheeks with his palm. He tilts his head in a silent question.
"Just… death," Hob says. "It's bloody stupid, isn't it? In all its forms. Necessary, maybe but stupid. I don't want any part of it."
Hob laughs at himself, as if the brash declaration itself is stupid.
But Dream only nods; he can see that there are deep forces moving beneath Hob's usually cheery exterior.
On the way home, he listens as Hob finally opens up about his wife and the unborn babe. After a decade, Hob says, the wound has closed up, he has "moved on" in all the ways one is supposed to move on, he has a new — and rather wonderful — life. But the scar will remain forever. It still hurts, but he's grateful for the life he had and the new one he's grown into.
"Shit," Hob says suddenly.
Dream looks around and realizes they haven't driven back to his own crappy apartment building.
"Sorry." Hob wipes his eyes. "I've blabbered so much, I wasn't paying attention. Driven myself right home."
"It's alright," Dream says. He peeks over at Hob shyly. "I've never seen your place."
Hob blinks at him for a moment — Dream's heart thuds against his throat — and then, despite the tear tracks still drying on his cheeks, Hob's face breaks into a brilliant smile.
"Are you hungry?" Hob asks. "I can actually cook quite well. It's not always pub food and pizza."
With perfect timing, Dream's stomach gives an almost painful rumble. "I'm starving."
Inside, Hob cooks a delectable dinner. Dream watches Hob move about the kitchen, chattering happily — he's already inviting Dream back over for brunch and maybe a Netflix marathon and Christmas. And Dream's mind is blossoming with new paintings, these ones bright with twining paths and colliding galaxies and shared dreams.
Hob is vaguely aware that he might be babbling into too much territory again, but when he sees Dream watching him with that dreamy sparkly in his eyes, his heart is just too full to care. As they eat together, he lets himself just be excited and not worry about reining himself in. Truly, he might not mind an eternity of this.
And Dream is thinking much the same thing.
#Apparently paid plasma donation is illegal in the UK & you can't donate 2x/week SO...#This is also the Dystopian AU where all the regulations have been axed sorry#+I don't know how buses work in the UK. This is how they work in my city :)#the sandman#hob gadling#dream of the endless#fanfic#dreamling#my fanfic
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Hello. I know this might sound dramatic, but I want you to know that you probably save my life tonight.
I was having a really bad day. My family doesn't understand me enough to care, and maybe my issue with my family is the reason why I found comfort in Batfam fics. Today, everything just got worse. My father yelled at me for something he didn't even know, I don't know why he even had the audacity to speak when he doesn't even know the matter, and now I can't speak and yell at his face that he's wrong because I am a child and not a parent, I would be considered "disrespectful" if I wanted to speak what is right and true.
I was really begging any Gods at that point to take me. I was thinking of ways to execute myself tonight. I was planning to starve myself tomorrow and ignore today's dinner. I was planning on searching what's "Metoprolol" is because growing up as a kid, I always think that "concern" is a form of love, and maybe if they saw my dead body tonight, maybe they'll cry because they love me. I know this is bad. I know this is inappropriate to say, but when I tried to atleast make myself feel better and decided to read Batfam fics again, I saw your new chapter of From Gold to Mold and it genuinely makes everything better. I didn't want to read Chapter 3 because I saw the comments that you left it with a cliffhanger, and I hate that, and decided to wait for the next chapter instead. Ever since I saw the new chapter, I actually ate dinner, because atleast I know there's still things in this world that makes me happy. When I saw your new chapter, I asked God, "Is this your way of comforting me?", and I want you to know that your work is a form of blessing for me. I started thanking God at that moment, and told myself that I also want to thank you.
I actually don't read Batman comics, or watch Batman. I never read or watch any DC movies before, but Batfam fics is about a family that I will always desire yet never really grasp. I wish for all Batfam authors to live the life they wanted.
I am very sorry for saying this, and straight up said that I was actually considering doing it. I am very aware that this is inappropriate but I really, really, really want to tell you that you save me. I know saying that a "fanfiction" save my life sounds ridiculous, but that's where I found my comfort in, and I would be willing to be ridicule at if it means showing what genuinely makes me happy. I will always love your works even if it means showing my lack of redamancy for my family, or even hatred if I have to admit. This doesn't mean that you are a start of my rebellion. I am only stating that you are a light in my times of darkness.
Thank you.
Wow, ok, wasn’t expecting my work to have such an impact. Good to know.
First of all, I’m glad you’re enjoying the series! When this idea popped into my head, I wasn’t sure if there would be many who’d actually enjoy it. With people like you, I’m inspired to put all that I have into From Gold to Mold! I hope my future work meets and exceeds all your expectations!
Second of all, I’m so sorry that you’re going through such a rough time in your life right now. Since you were brave to share a part of you for all to see, I’ll share something, too. About five years ago, my mother was a major junkie. With that, plus her narcissism, led her to divorcing my stepdad (who brought me out of my shell and made me a better version of myself) and moved us to my grandmother’s house after my grandfather died after battling lung cancer. Living with her was a nightmare, constantly walking around eggshells for fear of pissing her off, her stealing money from my grandmother, and yelling at everyone. She was always riding my ass to get a job just so she could take money from me. Early 2020, she was finally evicted and it’s just my grandmother and I living together.
She’s actually cleaned herself up and we enjoy a decent relationship.
So, while things look horrible and it may take a while, things do get better. I’m rooting for you.
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I swear, some of these "goth is whatever you want it to be" people act like telling them they're not goth means the Federal Bureau of Goths is going to break down their door and confiscate all their black clothes.
Loves, no one is gatekeeping what you wear. No one is even gatekeeping goth events! You can still go to goth clubs as a non-goth--you just may not enjoy it as much if you don't like the music. All we ask is that you not use the label, which is shorthand for "fan of goth music," to describe yourself if you are not, in fact, a fan of goth music.
We love seeing your cool outfits and gorgeous makeup and flawlessly-dyed hair, and we love sharing aspects of our subculture! But the second you try to redefine it and take away the ONE requirement, we get protective. Darkly-inclined is a wonderful label--use it! Use alternative! Don't use goth, emo, punk, or grunge if you aren't fans of the corresponding music genres. Can you imagine if I, who's never listened to K-pop, only heard of two K-pop bands, and couldn't name a single member of BTS called myself a K-pop stan? (Punk is probably the only one here that's a little more flexible, since it's also rooted in a political movement and protesting, but it still found its birthplace in the music--music which then led to post-punk and goth rock, might I add).
Subcultures have to have a barrier of entry to be a subculture. There has to be a way to set apart the people who are in it and those who aren't. Saying someone isn't goth is not an insult! We don't look down upon you. We get annoyed with poseurs, but not someone who's just into the fashion and makeup aspect and doesn't try to redefine what a goth is. I guarantee there's probably a spooky, black-clad non-goth that I've followed a makeup or DIY tutorial from, and I think that's wonderful. I love that we have this shared interest, even if we have different taste in music.
We're not trying to be mean when we enforce the one rule to be a goth (there is a second unspoken rule, to not be a bigot, but that's a rule that goes without saying for most groups--please know that when you see a so-called "goth" spewing racist bullshit or other kinds of hatred, the rest of us are NOT in agreement with them and want them evicted from our subculture). We love welcoming new people in, and we love seeing the goth scene thriving. It's just that our subculture means a lot to us, and although fashion is a big part of it, it has always truly been about the music. The music came first (watch old videos of 80's goth clubs--hardly anyone there looks recognizable as a goth today!), and it's the backbone of goth. When you call yourself goth, you're telling fellow goths "we like the same kinds of music." I want to get music recommendations from you, dang it, and share some of mine! I've had so many people insult the music I like and tell me my taste is shit, so it's nice to find someone who likes the same sounds and connects with the same lyrics, you know? Music is the strong glue that holds us together and unites us all. It brought us together in the 80's and has kept us together up until now. So when you try to take that away, to mold the goth label into whatever it takes to fit you because you didn't fit it, that's when we've got a problem.
And if you're into the fashion but don't like goth music now, do not despair, because that doesn't mean you'll never be a goth! Give it a listen. Check out different subgenres and bands. You might like what you hear. Synth and EBM were what bridged the gap for me. I started off being super into the fashion, but would be hard-pressed to name a goth band other than Bauhaus or Siouxsie and the Banshees. I was listening to Halloween Vocaloid songs and Lady Gaga, for the most part. I tried a few goth rock songs and didn't like them. And then I found The Birthday Massacre, and suddenly, those goth rock songs didn't sound so bad anymore. They sounded beautiful, atmospheric, ethereal, melancholy in a way you can still dance to. It wasn't long before I was devouring every subgenre of goth music I could get my hands on and making an ever-growing list of bands to check out and songs I liked. I was digging goth music like a grave, and all it took was a band that fit somewhere in the middle of the upbeat, techno dance-worthy music I was used to, the spooky lyrics I liked, and a gothy sound that got me craving more. Sometimes that's all it takes. Goth music is noticeably different from other genres, and hearing the unfamiliar sometimes results in dislike. It's an acquired taste for some, kind of like coffee, but once you get into it, you'll wonder how you even hated it at all in the first place.
Goth is my home, my family, and although I welcome all who show an interest, there's a difference between someone who actually wants to get involved in the subculture and those who wear a mask so they can pretend to be because they like the sound of the label, the allure, how cool it makes them feel, and insist they must be goth and all who tell them otherwise are just elitists. We call those people "poseurs," friend--don't be like them. If goth music just isn't for you, but you love the fashion, that's cool. Just don't call yourself "goth" if you're not a fan of goth music, since that's what the word means in the first place.
#so this unexpectedly turned into a rant#but I've seen some nonsense recently and it's annoying so--#goth#gothgoth#goth subculture#goth music#goth rant
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