#so as of right now my computer is cooperating

[shopwitchvamp]

Having one of those days/weeks where I start fantasizing about closing my shop, disappearing into the woods, and finally achieving my true form as a forest hag

[moonstandardtime]

love my digital art class but god it is filling me with rage and hatred for adobe.

[bloomocha]

❝ 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 :))

[another-supernova-girl]

An Exercise in Control - Cooper Adams/Abbott x F. OC

* Part 1 : The Beginning of the End *

This story is *VERY LOOSELY* based on some of my own personal experiences, not with a serial killer, but with a security guard at a place I worked at, who paid way more attention to me than he should have at the time - something I wouldn't really come to comprehend until many years later. This story will feature explicit sexual content in some future chapters (I'm currently aiming for 5-6 chapters total), all of which should basically be considered dubious consent (let's be honest, that's about the only consent there really could be, given the power dynamic issues). There will be no DDLG kink, breeding kink, degradation kink, or...some other kinks popular with this character's fandom that is prominent in other fics. Other writers are thoroughly filling that niche. It's more of a...love bombing-ish situation, with plenty of manipulation for the aim of control. ( gif is mine, watermarked because I witnessed one of my gifs being stolen recently )

(( word count ~ 4,600 ))

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

There had been no answer when Cooper had called out and rattled the metal shutters to the bookstore within the mall he patrolled, but the faint sound of lofi and very soft human speech clearly indicated an occupant. When he called out once more, received no response once again, he reached for his ring of keys and went to work opening the aluminum gating. It was almost one in the morning, and even the cleaning crew had gone home. There should not have been a soul in the building save for the assigned security guard, and Cooper just happened to be the man tasked with that assignment.

After the concert in Pennsylvania, the confrontation, and his subsequent escape from the incompetent police department, the Butcher had gone on the run, inadvertently aided by the media's purposeful downplaying of his escape that would have shamed all law enforcement involved. Cowards, the way Cooper saw them, but convenient cowards. In the months that followed, he had moved around quite a bit, never settling anywhere for too long, utilizing a slew of motel rooms and stolen identities. When he finally felt like he'd reached a destination he could call permanent, he'd gone in search of work and found himself right at home in the convenience of mall security. The idea had seemed laughable at first as he'd scanned the wanted ads in a local paper, weeks after chopping up one of the previously employed night guards, but the more he'd contemplated it, the more perfect of a fit it seemed to be. That had been about a month ago, and now he found himself in one of the stores, hours after closing, not as alone as he should be.

Officially armed with a flash light and a baton, unofficially armed with a taser and chloroform, Cooper proceeded through the store, quiet and alert, glancing in all directions as he moved toward the back corner of the store, the source of the soft music, and the the faint glow of an electronic device. Expecting to find some stoned teens or a homeless person, Cooper instead stumbled upon a store employee, ambient synthwave streaming from the speakers of her laptop as she typed away. Apparently, she was so engrossed in her after-hours work that she failed to notice him until he switched on his flashlight and shone it against the wall in front of her, and all around her. She nearly fell out of the store chair that cradled her body when she finally took notice of him.

“Who the f-...oh, thank god, security,” she breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed his uniform, her vision not yet reaching the stern look across his face.

“Mall's closed,” he stated simply, switching off his flashlight and sliding it back into the assigned holster.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I, uh...the other security guard just lets me hang after hours,” she explained, closing her computer and sliding it into her bag.

“That's probably why he got fired,” Cooper commented harshly in return. Well, fired in the literal since, as Cooper had burned his body to reduce the evidence. He was far less bold in his disposal of victims' remains, since his temporary capture. The bookstore worker paused at his statement. She hadn't seen the other guard in weeks, and had assumed he'd simply quit. If she were really the cause...she felt a twinge of guilt at the idea.

“I'm sorry, I hadn't heard that. I...I'll get my stuff. It won't happen again,” she assured, keeping her focus on her belongings she gathered, making sure to pick up her accumulated garbage from her food court-sourced dinner so she could dump it in the trash. Cooper nodded, but said nothing, as he watched her move about, and followed her as they trudged back out of the store, the door coming down in a noisy crash at the insistence of Cooper's harsh yank. It felt excessive to the bookstore employee, but she said nothing. If she'd already gotten someone fired for bending the rules, she certainly didn't want to end up on the bad side of his replacement. The store didn't exactly pay well, but she couldn't afford to lose the income.

“Um...sorry, again,” she mumbled as Cooper walked a few steps behind her, seeing that she got to an exit so he could re-lock the doors. The Butcher shifted his gaze from the empty corridor stretched out before him, to the young woman a few steps ahead of him. Already nearly a foot shorter than himself, she seemed even smaller with her shoulders hunched and her arms meeting at her clasped hands before her.

“It's...it's fine,” he finally uttered, and her head seemed to tilt briefly toward his voice, before focusing on her destination again. “I need this job. I can't afford write-ups, already.”

“Right...s-” she began to apologize again, but her words were cut short by the light contact of his fingertips upon her shoulder, and her feet slowed to a stop as she turned around to look back at him, confused at his odd touch.

“Stop apologizing. I get it. You're sorry,” his voice was firm, but less harsh than it had been in the bookstore. “Let's just...make it a habit of being out by midnight, alright?” he offered, his thick, dark brows raising as if to punctuate his request.

“S-...sure,” she managed, and no more words were exchanged between the two strangers the last hundred-ish feet to the exit nearest her automobile. She paused at the door, but said nothing, as Cooper unlocked it and held it open, watching her exit. She glanced back at him briefly, before heading for her car, Cooper's dark eyes focused on the lock as he re-secured the exit. His gaze rose to watch her walk alone, along the empty parking lot, until she reached a car he reckoned was hers, the guard not turning around to resume his patrol until her lights were on, and her vehicle set into motion.

🔪

A few evenings had passed since the incident at the bookstore, Cooper's night off falling the day after, a different shift the day after that, and he was back to night duty. He didn't mind it. He enjoyed the silence. During the day shifts, his gaze would wander, taking in the multitude of mall patrons, contemplating his next kill, but the evenings were peaceful. More time to think. More time to plan without distractions.

It had also been a few nights since he'd stopped by the bookstore, and though he'd avoided it for the bulk of regular operating hours, his feet did eventually guide him in the shop's direction, and he found himself standing against the wall across from it, staring in through the door-less entry. His eyes followed the movements and actions of a slightly familiar figure inside, Cooper watching as the young woman he'd escorted out a few nights before flitted around the store, assisting what few customers stepped inside, straightening books, re-homing the tomes that wound up in the wrong locations. Cooper had watched for a full fifteen minutes, almost unflinching, before she looked up from her work long enough to notice him, and she made no secret of it when she did.

“Hey!,” she waved him down, completely unnecessarily, as she crossed the short distance through the store and out into the corridor to greet the security guard. “Hi, I just wanted to apologize again for the other night, I don't usually-”

“Ah, no need,” Cooper raised a hand as if to put a barrier between the two of them. “It's these late nights, you know? I'm not used to the overnight shift and I was just...” he shrugged his shoulders, and put on a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “I was just...kinda grumpy” he suggested.

“I get that, but, um...I mean, I really don't usually hang around that long-”

“Really, it's fine,” he reiterated, the false smile still in place. “Hey, I'm Cooper. I didn't catch your name,” he offered his hand, and she hesitated only for a couple of seconds before accepting it, a half smile forming on her lips that was far more sincere than his.

“Delilah. It's, um...nice to meet you, Cooper,” she shook the hand he'd offered lightly before withdrawing her own again. “Hey, um...did I really get the other guard fired? I feel terrible-”

“Oh, no, he, uh...” Cooper began, his mind searching, quick as lightning, for a reasonable lie. “He didn't show up to work a couple of days in a row, and no one heard from him, so he got let go...apparently,” he quickly tossed in.

Delilah's brows knit together as she contemplated his words. “Well, I'm glad it wasn't me...I hope he's okay. I don't think he had much family,” she thought aloud.

Cooper considered her briefly before speaking again, “Did you know him?”

“I mean, not well, but...about as much as anyone around here who works the night shift, and...doesn't keep their face buried in their phones,” she shrugged.

“Well, I'm sure he'll turn out to be...just fine,” Cooper lied, his umber eyes fixed on her forest green ones.

“Yeah, I...I hope so,” she nodded, her gaze transfixed by the strange intensity of his stare, as if he were waiting to see if she believed him. “Well...I gotta get back before we lose another customer to Amazon. It was nice to meet you, again,” she explained as her eyes finally glanced back to the store, and the annoyed-looking customer inside. When she looked back again, just inside the entrance below the giant letters that spelled out PAGE TURNERS, he had vanished.

🔪

Days turned to weeks as Cooper acclimated to his position as the primary evening security officer, scoping out all the stores, and the dark hallways that led to back rooms, every inch of the oversized shopping destination. He was attentive to his duties, though less than invested on a personal level. His job was nothing but a cover, and a convenient location for his executions, in the basement levels that most were either unaware of, or considered abandoned. He'd stored away plenty of money over the years in a dozen locations in case he were ever discovered and had to run, and his home was far more comfortable than any normal security guard could truly hope for. Unfulfilling as his duties were, however, his employ did lend him opportunities to gain trust within the micro-community of this retail mega-facility, meeting various store employees, making nice with managers, cleaning crew...book sellers.

Nearly every evening that they shared a coinciding schedule, Cooper found an excuse to at least pass by the Page Turners book store on the top floor, a shop that he silently questioned the need for in the age of giant online sellers that an independent bookseller could not complete with the prices of. Business appeared fairly slow to him, but the main evening employee he'd began having brief, friendly interactions with, seemed to always find something to do. He usually had to clear his throat just to gain her attention when he'd enter the store, but she always seemed pleased to see him.

“You always manage to look busy,” Cooper commented from just beyond the threshold between the store interior and the walkway, and he watched her shoulders jump slightly in surprise, before she turned in the direction of his voice from where she crouched beside a bookcase on the floor.

“And you always manage to make me jump,” she answered, though nothing else about her demeanor suggested that his presence bothered her. “I'll have you know that I've had a whopping...three? No, four groups of customers, tonight,” she declared, rising up to full height, nearly a foot shorter than the security guard, and dusting her polyester slacks off.

“That many?” Cooper asked, his eyes following her form as she abandoned the half-stocked box of tween novellas to circle around to the employee side of the register desk. “I guess it's only Tuesday, though.” Delilah shrugged as she slid her phone into a compartment out of sight, the need for distraction lessened by Cooper's companionship. “Do you ever manage to get a night off?” he asked suddenly, and her eyes that had already been trained on his features lit up with surprise at the inquiry.

“Um...well, yeah, of course. I just, uh...I'm the only non-manager who actually volunteers for the night shift, so my schedule is pretty predictable,” she explained, and he nodded, leaning his weight into his hands that gripped at the side of the register table opposite her.

“Night owl?” he suggested, and she shrugged, her expression unaltered, though her gaze diverted from his, as it often did when his proximity to her increased.

“I guess...it's more like, most of the other employees are teenagers, and they don't want to waste their summer vacation working the night shift,” she concluded. Honestly, they didn't do much of anything while they were there to begin with, but someone had to mind the store.

“Yeah, I've noticed it's mostly teenagers. I guess they probably make for the best customers, too,” he continued, adjusting his weight so it fell against his crossed arms on the recently wiped-down surface. “How old are you, anyway? I mean, if it's okay to ask,” he questioned suddenly, and she finally looked back up at him again, surprised.

“Um...thirty one,” she answered, brows furrowing as she watched him curiously.

Cooper's face displayed a look of surprise, as he pushed off, raising back to his full, towering height. “Really? I wouldn't have guess that.”

“What would you have guessed?” Delilah asked, her arms crossing in subconscious defense.

“I don't know. Maybe...twenty six? Twenty seven?” His answer was honest, and her demeanor seemed to visibly soften. “How's that possible?”

“I, uh...well, I don't drink, or smoke, or use drugs, or...spend much time in the sun,” she explained, waving a hand in the direction of the hall way, and the enormous overhead skylights that naturally brightened the walkways during the day.

“I imagine you must burn pretty easy,” he mentioned, his body maneuvering around the corner of the register table, reaching out to fondle a few strands of her auburn hair that fell past her shoulders, his vision trained on her, even as passersby glanced in to perceive the two of them.

“Yeah, I, uh...I try not to put myself in that position, anymore,” she mumbled, her gaze focused on his large hand as it abandoned her as quickly as it had reached out. “I don't wanna get burned.”

Cooper nodded but remained silent for several seconds, watching the confusion and anxiousness present itself on her features. Eventually, when it seemed she might excuse herself, he finally spoke up again. “So, how old do I look?”

“I...it must be a really slow night for you, too,” she commented, glancing briefly to the corridor for possible customers, the mall mostly dead, typical for a weeknight.

“Come on,” he encouraged, dark eyes ever watchful, clocking the mild discomfort across her features and ignoring it. “You're not gonna hurt my feelings.”

“Um...” she paused in her tiny steps backward, Cooper standing quite still, and finally took the opportunity to really look him over, something she'd done many times, but never so closely and obviously. “I'm really bad at this,” she mumbled, but he shook his head, a non-deranged smile in place. “Maybe...forty...four?” she hedged, and his expression told her that she at least had not insulted him.

“Forty six,” he corrected, and Delilah nodded, and shrugged. She wasn't quite sure why he cared about either of their ages, figured he must be desperate to run down the clock before his next round of surveillance was scheduled. “Pretty close. Maybe I need to start taking better care of my skin,” he thought aloud, rubbing absently at the short whiskers that cast a dark shadow over his chin. “Not so long ago, I was getting mistaken for...thirties,” he threw out the words in a casual tone, but the look Delilah immediately gave him – brows quirked, and a strange smile that seemed to silently say 'Yeah, right!' - gave him a tiny moment of pause, followed by a simple, “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I just...I mean, I don't know why you would want to confused for thirties,” she shrugged, suddenly a bit more at ease from the renewed levity of his company. “Like, have you met men in their thirties? They're barely men. They act like they're in their twenties, and guys in their twenties act like they're still in high school...”

“So...you're saying that forties is better?” Cooper prodded, and before he could take a step closer, the chatter of mall patrons suddenly reached their ears, and said patrons' feet led them into the bookstore before Cooper could take their conversation any further.

“Don't you have something to secure,” Delilah mumbled, a grin she couldn't defy pulling at her lips as Cooper maneuvered behind her.

“I'm just gonna go do some 'older guy' stuff,” he whispered in return, his large hand passing over the small of her back as he slipped by.

“Go secure something,” she called back as he disappeared out the door, her face flushed, smile still firmly in place. He'd never exactly struck her as insecure in their correspondence so far. As far as she was concerned, it didn't matter how old he actually was when he looked like that.

🔪

“So...movie theater...other movie theater...call center, office job...bookseller at a dying mall?” Cooper rattled off the jobs she'd detailed, counting them on his fingers, watching her nod along as she dusted the countless shelves of books. “How does that happen?”

“Well,” she began, pulling out an incorrectly placed book and sliding it toward the direction of its proper location. “The theaters paid awful wages, but I still lived with my mother, so I didn't need much. Quit the first one, got fired from the second one.”

“How do-”

“Nepotism. I pointed out some nepotism to the wrong co-worker, and it turned out they had a bigger mouth than I thought. And after that...a year at a call center that made me never want to talk on the phone again...and nine soul-sucking years at the office.”

“And then you ended up here,” Cooper concluded aloud, and she nodded, moving on to the next set of shelves. “Was it worth it?” he asked, and she shifted to look back over to the security guard whose body leaned against the sturdy register desk. “I mean, I can't imagine the pay is any better than where you were at.”

“It's not,” she admitted, her voice a little softer. She didn't like being reminded of her financial problems, wondering about the choices she'd made in her life to lead her here. “It's less money, for sure, but...a different company bought us out, and our jobs got more difficult, and our work loads doubled...and the raises turned into a joke. I hated it. I made enough to live on my own, but only barely, and...” Delilah's words dropped away, her fingers stilling over the spines of the books she had been correcting the placement of. Cooper simply stood in silence, taking in every ounce of information she spilled. “And what about you?” she suddenly questioned, an attempt to deflect some attention.

“Me?” Cooper asked, his brows raising. “Well, there's not much to tell,” he answered. It wasn't wise to give away too much, even his own trained lies. His resume had been full of falsehoods, but the hiring manager had been so desperate to bring someone on with the sudden disappearance of the guard Cooper had annihilated, that he hadn't even checked up on his references. A clean background check and some forged documents of training had been enough to secure the position Cooper now found himself in. “I've mostly worked...I guess you'd call them positions of authority.” Hadn't that been what the FBI profile had said? Surely, that was vague enough.

“And you never, um...” Cooper observed as the bookseller tapped her empty ring finger on her left hand.

“I, uh...I'm divorced,” he lied, though in fairness, he was certain Rachel would have divorced him, had the authorities actually managed to keep him in custody beyond the Prisoner Transport vehicle. “I don't really like talking about that part of my life.”

“You don't really like talking about yourself at all,” she observed, and Cooper couldn't exactly argue. Obviously, there was very little of his life he could safely share, as his interactions with the FBI and Philadelphia police had been far too close for comfort.

“Maybe I just find you fascinating,” he hedged, and received a sigh and an eye roll, but she ceased her questions, all the same.

🔪

It was another late night, later than usual for Cooper to find Delilah's dented-up car in the mall parking lot, so late that he cut his outside patrol short to re-enter the enormous structure. Ever since their first meeting, when he had acted so harshly toward her, before he had selected her as the subject of his strange experiment, she had actually made efforts to be out of the mall before midnight. Though there were nights that she didn't quite make their agreed-upon curfew, he had never witnessed her in the building so late that it almost classified as early. By the time he'd completed the trek to the metal gates outside of Page Turners' store front, it was just after 3am.

Cooper called out her name, called again louder, but received no answer. He didn't even hear the typical wave of soft music that usually emanated from the store when she stuck around after-hours. Giving the metal barrier a loud shake and still hearing nothing beyond it that indicated life, he reached to his large ring of keys and let himself inside.

He wasn't sure what it was that drove him. It felt like something almost comparable to concern, but he was certain that wasn't it. She was just an experiment, a little toy to manipulate and eventually play with. Replaceable. So why was he relieved when he found her at the back of the store that he trudged through, not ignoring him at all, not consciously anyway?

“Delilah,” Cooper spoke just above a whisper after he carefully tugged the headphones she wore away from her ears, watching her stir, barely aware of his presence. He received a tiny 'Hmm?' in response, but nothing else, her eyes still closed. Crouching down next to the well-worn bean bag chair she snoozed in, he pushed some stray strands of hair away from her ear, and leaned in closer, his voice a bit louder as he spoke her name again.

“It's too early,” she mumbled, closed eyes scrunching tight with annoyance as she shifted in the nearly-shapeless seat.

“Or too late,” Cooper answered, and finally recognizing his voice, Delilah managed to open her eyes long enough to look over her shoulder, toward him.

“Cooper?” she asked, her tone and the expression on her face full of confusion. “What are you...what time is it?”

“Way past midnight,” he answered, dragging out his phone when she failed to locate her own, showing her the time, watching her eyes widen with realization.

“Oh my g-...shit!” she exclaimed, scrambling out of the so-called chair and unsteadily to her feet. “I am so sorry. I can't believe I actually fell asleep,” she continued, searching for her belongings to gather in her messenger bag.

“I can,” Cooper responded, and she gave him a confused look before returning her attention to her bag to make sure she had everything. “I can believe that you fell asleep, I mean,” he clarified. “Delilah...is there a reason you don't want to go home?”

“What?” she asked, finally standing up to full height again, grasping her purse, and the bag big enough to hold her laptop.

“That's why you stay so late, isn't it? You stay at the store for hours after it closes, after you've clocked out. You volunteer to work these late shifts, when most people are off work, and at home. No one likes the night shift that much,” Cooper concluded, his dark eyes focused on the young woman before him, who had noticeably stopped fidgeting. “Boyfriend?”

That single word prompted a look akin to the one she'd given him the night he'd suggested he could pass for a man in his thirties. “Do you really think I'd spend so much time around you if I...no, there's no boyfriend. It's, uh...it's my roommate...and her boyfriend, usually.”

Cooper registered all of her words, but chose not to comment on the first half. He'd tuck that away for later. “Continue,” he invited, simply, not too firmly.

“She just...I kinda hate her,” Delilah admitted, letting out a sigh of defeat. She did her best to not mix her time around Cooper in with her home life, but he was frustratingly perceptive. She watched as the security guard lowered himself to the vacuumed floor and reached his hand out in her direction, encouraging her to join him. She plopped down far less gracefully. “We didn't even really know each other when I moved in. She was looking for a roommate to split the bills with, and I was month-to-month at my apartment, and running out of what passed for my savings from my old job, and...it seemed like a good match at the time.”

“So, what changed?” he questioned, hesitating for a few moments, before reaching out his hand again and taking hers carefully in his grasp. She stared at it for a noticeable length of time before her words resumed.

“Well...she ended up getting this boyfriend, and at first it was nice, because they were almost always at his place. Then, they started fighting, like...all the time. And when they weren't fighting, they were fucking so loud, the neighbors would bang on the walls, and...”

“And that's when you started staying here so late?” he offered, and she shrugged.

“Yeah...I started looking for freelance stuff online to make more money so I could move out on my own again, but...everything just keeps getting so much more expensive. I just...I feel so stuck. And up here,” her words paused for a moment, and she indicated with her free hand her general surroundings, “it's about the only peace I get that doesn't involve earplugs.” She gave a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes, focused on an invisible spot on the floor. When silence overtook the room, it became harder to ignore his large hand that still encompassed hers, and she finally took in a deep breath, letting it out in a slightly dramatic sigh. “So...now that you know my sob story...any words of wisdom?”

Her gaze finally lifted to Cooper's umber eyes that had not left her own green ones since she'd began to speak, but she found his expression unreadable. “Well?” she asked again.

“I'm not sure I have much wisdom to impart,” Cooper admitted, “and it's probably selfish, but...I kind of like having you up here, alone...all to myself.”

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

CHAPTER 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE!

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

tagging as requested : @one-of-thewalkingdead , @gissellec1 , @rainingrabbits89-blog , @pinkflowerwombat , @sashimeep , @strangererotica @the-butchers-baby

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED. I KNOW THIS IS A BIT DIFFERENT THAN MOST OF THE OTHER COOPER STORIES BEING WRITTEN, BUT I HOPE IT APPEALS TO SOMEONE BESIDES MYSELF 💙

[radiance1]

[Building off of these two posts. Idk man I've just been feeling in a writing mood lately lmao.]

"Pathos. Come in." Danny was leaned over keyboard, staring straight ahead at his screen. "Pathos. Come in. I know you can hear me."

Silence was his only answer.

He sat back in his seat, fingers gliding over his keyboard as he zeroed in on the energy signature of Phantom's last location.

Subject not found.

His fingers stilled as he stared at the message. Then resumed their movements as he instead sent out a city-wide search for Phantom's energy signature, rather than one location.

Subject not found.

Was the message relayed to him after a few minutes. Danny leaned back in his seat, drumming a finger against his desk as he contemplated what to do next.

He leaned forward and connected to a faraway communication device with a few clicks.

"Damian."

===

"Damian."

The cut cold cut through the silence of the batcave with relative ease. The occupants freezing, before slowly looking over to Damian, who, for the most part, was calm and collected as he lifted the arm bracer up his face.

"What." Damian spat out the word like poison, as a scowl appeared over his face. It was inconvenient that he called him now of all times.

Logos rested his elbows on his desk as he folded his hands. "My apologies, if this moment is inconvenient for you-"

"It is." Damian's scowl deepened.

"-But this is a matter of great importance, and you are the only one I can trust to handle this task." Danny continued, as if he weren't interrupted.

"And what could be so important?" Damian raised an eyebrow.

"I am unable to locate Pathos, and I suspect foul play is afoot." The others in the room tensed, with Batman slinking over and standing right in front of his son. "I will not ask you to do much, but I require your assistance nonetheless."

Batman's eyes narrowed, and Damian grit his teeth. "What do you want?"

"I simply need you to find any clues as to who-or what- took him, and preferably where he was taken, after that I will take the matter from your hands." Logos leaned away from the computer, leading back in his seat and crossing his arms. "Of course, if you choose to accept, I will most certainly make it worth your while."

Damian was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers against his leg as he considered his options, he grunted. "I have cleaned up after that mess you call Pathos more than I would have liked to, and while your items are certainly useful, I will need a more detailed description of what you plan to give me."

Danny nodded, as if he expected this. "One-" He held up his index finger. "-Item of your choosing. Ranging from anything I currently have-besides a few certain items- in my possession, or something you wise for me to create."

Damian narrowed his eyes. That was... an exceedingly better reward than he was hoping for, he almost forgot the others in the room as he drummed his fingers against his leg again. His previous opinion being swayed.

"I will see what I can do."

'Wonderful." Danny nodded his head in thanks. "I thank you for your cooperation, big brother."

Damian stilled, and everyone else's eyes widened.

Logos' call ended as soon as brother left his mouth, and Damian wanted to curse. That stupid-

"Damian." His father called out to him, narrowed eyes looking down at his youngest (but apparently that was now called into question) son that basically told him to explain right then there.

He knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this easily.

[manamania]

If I read another Ghoulcy fic where Little Miss Weirdo McLean is written as some shy little girl instead of the shameless freak she is, I’m gonna smash my computer!

She had no qualms experimenting with her cousin, jumped a stranger’s bones hours after meeting him (granted it was during their wedding day), and was more than willing to get dirty with Max even though that man had NO GAME whatsoever.

If anything, I think Lucy would teach Cooper a thing or two because he’s been out of practice with intimacy for so long. She’d guide his hands, tell him specifically what she wants, and wouldn’t be a blushing virgin about being vocal.

Let’s be sooooo real right now, Cooper would be spooked by Lucy’s horny side.

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

You said yes and it took me a bit but I'm finally opening a few slots only for you people/pups 💜

Could I actually draw the vehicles? Yes, I have the practice from drawing Transformers, Knight Rider and Herbie. BUUUUT my Samsung tablet is literally kicking my ass here and refuses to cooperate, I literally can't work on bigger artworks or take too long in a single piece for lack of storage space - that's why I'm opening these slots in the first place, to be able to afford the fix-up of my desktop computer so I can get back to work properly on bigger projects and teach my online classes in peace. Sadly I still wasn't informed how much it'll cost for them to fix it, the tech guy got sick this week (I did too, argh), so he's still going to take a look at my computer, and whatever money I had, I'm spending on food day by day. Right now as I'm typing this post I have only R$20 in my account, which is a bit less than 5 US Dollars 🥲

Reblogs are greatly appreciated too!

Since I haven't really worked any Paw Patrol art with lighting and shading for real aside from the one of Ryder and Zuma so far to show as examples, under the cut I'll have some artworks that aren't Paw Patrol related but will serve as reference to see how I work lighting and shading when drawing.

[password-door-lock]

Unknown is all dressed up. He doesn’t feel that it would be appropriate to arrive at your apartment in any other state— after all, if he’s going to get you to Magenta as planned, then he’ll probably need your cooperation. He can get it by threatening you, sure, but Unknown would much prefer it if you’d just go along with his plan of your own volition. That’d be more entertaining for Unknown, not to mention more satisfying to shove in 707’s face. 

Also, though he’d never admit it to anyone— least of all to you— Unknown is grateful for the opportunity to dress up nicely. He doesn’t get to do it often. Around Magenta, he wears his typical uniform of a leather jacket and tight pants. When he leaves, he may resort to a less conspicuous display, but rarely does he get to make such creative use of belts and harnesses. Truth be told, Unknown is looking forward to this. He imagines you, dressed up for the party, your hair perfectly styled even under his rough hands and your ensemble as carefully curated as his own. 

It is a bit of a shock to him when he throws open the door to the apartment a few minutes after nine and finds the polar opposite of all his fantasies. You’re not dressed in your own party clothes because, despite what you told him when he asked you on the messenger, you are not at the RFA Christmas party. “Were you waiting here for me, prince(ss)?” Unknown drawls, though he sincerely doubts that this is the case. If you’d been waiting for him, surely you would have prepared for the occasion. 

As it stands, your hair is unstyled, and you’re sporting a plain baseball tee with a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. You appear to be watching a movie on the Savior’s old computer, and despite himself, Unknown is impressed that you managed to hack in. “Are you the hacker?” You answer his question with another, slightly less relevant question. This might be annoying if you weren’t so cute. 

“Mhm,” Unknown advances, invading your personal space as you cower on the couch. You smell like shampoo and simple soap. “Then you must be ready to come with me.” He supposes he can’t fault you for favoring comfort over style. This kind of practicality could be an asset to the Mint Eye. 

“Not at all,” you admit, dashing Unknown’s hopes for the second time in only a few minutes. “I thoug​ht you were going to try and harass our guests at the party, so I told Seven to increase security.” Unknown’s hands become fists as he tries and fails to keep his cool. Do you think you’re going to get away with playing both sides like that? “He was like, ‘You need to stay home. I’ll take care of the hacker.’ But clearly, he couldn’t, so I guess I am going with you. Can I get five minutes to pack?” 

This lifts Unknown’s mood right back up. Not only are you going to go with him without a fight, but you’re also going to help him deal a devastating blow to 707. When he takes you, Unknown will show that redhead a preview of the harrowing future the Savior has in store for him. Luciel is in for a series of devastating blows, actually, thanks to the information you’ve provided, and this is only the first one.

“I want you to change into your Christmas outfit,” Unknown orders. He can see it now— the two of you will look so perfect together, dressed in your holiday best. 

“What? This is my Christmas outfit.” You gesture at your pajamas. “It’s… Christmas, and I’m wearing it, so…” 

Unknown exhales. He knew you weren’t a genius going into this, but he at least hoped that you’d be able to follow his instructions without causing any problems. “Where’s the outfit that you bought for the Christmas party?” He asks. “It’s a waste to buy it and not wear it, hm?” 

“I didn’t buy anything for the Christmas party,” you explain, “I was going to pretend to be busy if you hadn’t threatened me. I’ve been emailing with the guests, and most of them seem kind of boring, and besides, I already gave my donation to Yoosung last night. I don’t really see a reason to stand around in the cold. Plus, I think V asked Jumin to do something illegal, and I don’t really want to be there if they have a confrontation about it. I can see the RFA any time, anyway, right?” 

“You’ll see them once they come to join us in paradise,” Unknown confirms. He could get used to you and your fascinating outlook. “Now, come on. We’ll go shopping on the way.”

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

(A/N: Based on this post about seventeen as supermarket cashiers. Hope you guys like it!)

The chime of the bells signaling the start of Christmas day was welcoming to all but you. To you, it was nothing but a death sentence. With ten dollars in your wallet and a sleepy daughter in your arms, you felt so so tired. If there was a choice you would not have bought her with you. It was almost unbearable for you that your tiny angel was unconsciously witnessing how pathetic and powerless her mother truly was.

Picking up the cheapest looking bread, you find out that it was almost five dollars. But you had no other options. This and the american cheese that you were certain was plastic were all you could afford now. Your head was spinning thinking about how you had to puff up a cheese sandwich like it was ambrosia from the gods. When and how did you reach the checkout section you don’t even know.

“ Hello, I am Soonyoung! Can you pass me your items to scan?” The cheerful words from the cashier in front of you jolted you back to the present. Looking at him, you couldn’t help thinking that he bore a striking similarity to your daughter. Which was ridiculous. One was a five year old girl in tattered clothes, the other was a twenty something man with blond hair and striking features. Hell, he was closer to your age than your child’s. Shaking off your foolish thoughts, you reply,

“ Of course. And I would like to pay by cash.”

“ Sure! No problem.” A cheeky grin was flashed in your direction. But soon, with every second Soonyoung couldn’t get the scanner to cooperate with him, his smile dimmed a bit more. Five minutes later, he abandoned the machine with a resentful muttering of ‘always does this to him on purpose’ and was now painstakingly inputting the serial code of the cheese into the computer. At this point your arms were getting strained holding your precious cargo. No matter how small a kid was, it was tiring to hold them in one position for a long time.

“ Soonyoung, did you forget how to use the scanner again? ” A gentle voice spoke from beside you. The gentle voice was matched with gentle doe eyes and a name tag on his uniform that said ‘Joshua’.

Soonyoung whined in protest. “ I did not forget how to use that stupid machine. It’s broken again! ”

“Uh huh, sure. Please be quicker. You have already made the customer wait for a long time.” Joshua chided softly.

“Jeez, okay. Just give me a minute.” was the sullen reply.

Turning to you, Joshua asked conversationally, “ I used to love cheese sandwiches as a kid too. That’s what you were buying the bread and cheese for, right? Please say yes or I just confessed my undying love for them for nothing.”

Surprising even yourself, you giggled. But reality sobered you up in a second. With a strained smile, you replied, “ No, actually. My daughter really wanted a christmas dinner like she sees in movies. But we are on a budget so….”

With a sudden intense light in his eyes, Joshua asked, “ What is your budget? Maybe I can help? I like to cook in my free time.”

You hesitate for a moment before letting out a whispered “Ten dollars” into the air.

After a few seconds, he replied, “How about a turkey casserole and cherry pie cookie bars?”

“ Tha- that’s possible?” You couldn’t help but stutter. A small flicker of hope was born in your heart.

“ Very possible.” Joshua affirmed with a reassuring smile. The next moment his voice changed into a commanding one. “Yo, Soonyoung, leave those there and bring me two packages of sugar cookie mix, a can of cherry pie fillings, and a small tub of margarine from aisle 14 and 21.” 

“Oh, thank god.” The blond man ran away as if there was wind under him. You couldn’t help but share a helpless glance with the other man.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in your car in a daze with a full bag of groceries, handwritten recipes for an amazing dinner, and some change in your wallet. Joshua and Soonyoung may have been a whirlwind but they were also a christmas miracle. Your christmas miracle.

[sprite-writes]

gunmetal blue

chapter 1/?

Dale Cooper/Reader

Summary: Agent Cooper is saddled with a new partner–against his better judgment. She’s a mess–aimlessly stumbling her way through the FBI with a past shrouded in mystery. Grappling with this change, and a puzzling case in a small town, Cooper’s lost. He finds the path forward in the last way he’d expect. 

word count: 2,605

A/N: woah new fic! this is sort of my side project while I work on cloudy day, but it'll still have semi-regular updates! super self indulgent because I love twin peaks, even if everyone had moved on LOL. hope u enjoy <3 as with all my writing, special thanks to @lightning-writes

 Dale wasn’t the type to be needlessly anxious. He was the farthest thing from an overthinker, he was a pragmatic man, he kept his sensibility about him. So, admittedly, it was out of character the way his leg had started to involuntarily bounce, brow sweat, and chest tighten. Gordan Cole’s office had never felt so small. 

He should have known something was wrong with the way Gordan had called him into his office, hands clapping on his shoulders, guiding him into the room like a lost child. Now, with the announcement hanging in the air, he understood. 

“I’m sorry, a-a new partner?” 

“That’s what I said, Coop! Is your hearing going too?” Gordon’s deafening volume usually has no effect on him, but this time he flinches. Dale shifts, and the leather beneath him squeaks. Gordon doesn’t even look up from his computer, skillfully avoiding Dale’s appalled stare. 

“Gordon, with all due respect, I don't need nor want a partner. Has there been something unsatisfactory about my work? Or-” 

“Did you say something about a factory? Anyway, It's not up to me. She was sent here straight from the higher-ups. All I did was sign the paperwork.” 

Dale sighs, his frustration thickening in his chest. His captain's eyes flick to him. 

“I would’ve fought it if I thought it was such a bad idea, Coop. Don’t worry so much, She’s a sweet girl and a—how would you say it? A damn fine agent.”  

“Isn’t there anyone else she could be assigned to?” he asks, and it feels like begging. Windom is 3 years behind him now, but that's three years he’s spent adapting to solitude. The idea of someone next to him on the field again unsettles him deeply, drudging up feelings he’s worked hard to forget. 

“Agent, I know how you may feel about this. What, with your past and all, but keep an open mind. I think this could be good for you.” 

Could be good?

“Sir–” 

A knock on the door cuts him off, the frosted glass door swinging open without hesitation. The interruption leaves him with his complaints still sticking to his tongue. 

“Gordon! I brought you coffee – you still take it with two sugars, right? Because there’s a cane’s worth in there.” 

His vision is crowded by a woman in an oversized blue FBI jacket—besides her abrupt entry, she’s also out of uniform. Her denim blue jeans hug her waist and fray at the knees, with a jarringly casual t-shirt. The unprofessionalism rubs him the wrong way. 

Two milky-colored coffee cups get dropped on the desk. Despite the breach of protocol, Gordon seems pleased to see her. There’s an affinity in his eyes, but she's a stranger to Dale.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Blue herself! We were just talking about you.”

“We?”

Her hair flicks over her shoulder, and her eyes widen. 

“Oh! Hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I’m Blue.” She sticks out her right hand for him to shake– and it knocks straight into the two coffee cups, sending one tumbling towards Gordan and the other into his lap. 

“Shit!” 

He bolts up as hot coffee soaks his trousers. He vaguely registers Gordon's laugh as if an Agent didn’t just waltz in, wreck his office, and Dale’s drycleaning. 

“Oh hell, I’m so sorry!” she shrills, peeling off her jacket frantically. The cheap polyester of the academy-issued zip-up presses against his wool-blend pants, the woman’s feeble attempt to clean the mess. 

Dale’s anger alights, but he breathes deeply to tamp it down. Patience is a virtue, he tells himself.

She continues to dab at his pants, he pushes her hands away, taking the stained jacket from her, and tossing it on the chair behind him. 

“It's fine, it’s fine,” he tells her tightly, despite the heat of his emotions, and the mild burns. When it rains, it pours, he supposes. 

She looks up at him, clearly mortified. 

“My bad, Sir,” she says lamely, and her expression scrunches up more. 

“A hand, Kid?” Gordon asks and she’s more than happy to take her attention away from Dale. Gordon wipes his desk with a handkerchief, and with her hands free, she begins moving damp papers from his desk. 

“Well, I’ll tell ya, Blue, you haven’t changed a bit since they shipped you off,” Gordon says fondly. Blue grimaces in a subtle way that Dale only notices because of the daggers he’s staring into her. 

“I don't know about-” she begins. Gordon steamrolls her, likely not hearing a thing she said. 

“Well, I suppose this is as good an introduction as any. Dale, meet your new partner, Special Agent Georgia Blue. Blue, meet Dale Cooper.”

He wanted to be surprised, really he did, but with fate’s track record, he didn't know why he would expect any better. 

-

Dale goes home late that evening. With him, a stack of manilla folders all relating to one Georgia Blue. He recognizes a level of invasion here. He justifies it simply; Blue is an invasion of his space, so this grants him a degree of invasion to hers. He tries not to think about the morality of it too much, mostly because he knows if he does, he’ll be returning the files unopened. He lets his curiosity win this battle. 

It doesn’t matter anyways; half the documents are redacted, large blocky sharpie lines interrupting every other sentence. He skims over what he deems unimportant– her physical description, age, schooling– when one thing catches his eye. Her bureau status, ambiguously labeled as ‘probationary warning: under review’ 

 The FBI files aren’t all. There are DEA reports, too, all titled Operation Architect. He whispers the words to himself, something familiar in the back of his mind, vague memories and mentions of this Operation Architect. From his understanding, it had been DEA business, just watercooler talk that had made its way down to his office. He reads what he can. 

January 10th 1988, SA Georgia Blue establishes contact with target, indefinite undercover placement to begin immediately.

Undercover placement? The rest of the paragraph is blocked out, and he’s left with more questions than answers. 

His day feels like a pill he can’t swallow. He had vainly hoped that by understanding who this woman was, it would give him some artificial control of the situation, maybe even make it easier to choke down. He doesn’t understand why the dread in his chest continues to bloom. 

He yawns, interrupting his thoughts. He supposes the rest of his investigation can wait for the morning, it wasn’t like the issue was going away anyways. 

-

There are a few blissful moments the next morning when Dale wakes up, where the nightmare of yesterday is just that - a nightmare. The redacted files are forgotten on his desk. He makes his bed and brushes his teeth, and it isn't until he’s halfway through shampooing his hair, while he’s mentally scaling down his to-do list for the day that he remembers his plans are meaningless compared to the derailment that is Agent Blue. That is, his new partner Agent Blue. Just rolling over the word in his mind causes a headache to bud. 

“Agents Cooper and Blue, partners, at your service,” he spits bitterly to himself. He gets shampoo in his mouth.

He’s bitter all the way to the station, questions and resentment swarming his mind.  

He doesn’t even bother to chirp his usual good mornings to the doorman. Anger fits him like a jacket two sizes too small, he has to squeeze his way into it.

Perhaps the comfort of familiarity would calm him, he thought. A warm cup of coffee and the sanctuary of his desk. That’s what he needed. 

“Good morning Dale,” Diane calls as he passes reception. He waves noncommittally. 

“Morning Diane, any messages?” 

“Not today, but Gordon wants to talk to you—he said to just come by when you have time.”

Dale sighs, and wonders what Gordon could possibly have in store for him this time. 

“Is that all?” 

“There’s just one other thing—I had to move your desk closer to the window to make room for the new girl – but don’t worry! I put everything back just as it was, and I was real careful too,” she smiles. 

His eye twitches. 

“Alright, Diane, thanks,” he mutters. 

His desk is a foot from the window now, approximately 3 feet from where he had it before. He recalls the day he requested it to be there—having carefully stood in each corner of the precinct to find the exact shade-to-light ratio to situate himself. 

It’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just squint. 

In the ideal 4-foot spot from the window sits a brand new desk, with his brand new partner. If she hears him approach, she doesn’t show it, eyes glued to her dark computer screen. It doesn’t bother him, not one bit. He had spent the last three years' worth of mornings enjoying his coffee in silence, and, new partner or not, he would like that to remain the same. Who cares if she ruined his wool pants–doesn’t mean she has to say good morning to him too. 

He sits down, much too close to the sun for his liking, and dives headfirst into paperwork. Still, he spares glances at her, in intervals, and mostly just wonders, why? Dale is a good agent, he knows this. His work and reputation precede him; a lone wolf, he thinks of himself. Then, out of nowhere, without warning, he’s saddled with a partner? An agent he’s never even heard of, who is apparently dipping half into DEA work. An agent who’s on probationary warning. 

Perhaps they want him to babysit, he concludes. A rookie agent with some kind of classified disciplinary infraction, and they want him to turn her around. The thought reheats his anger. He’s a federal agent, not an academy trainer, and he has half a mind to let Gordon know that fact. 

Five minutes into tense silence and deep thought, a hand smacks down on his desk. He startles but recovers smoothly.

“For yesterday,” Blue says tersely. His eyes follow her stony expression to her manicured hand. She moves and reveals a crumbled $50 bill she’d slapped on his desk. 

“Agent?” he asks, confused and exasperated. 

“For the pants, alright? Please, just take it.” 

He stares at the bill quizzically. 

“Ma’am, while I can appreciate the gesture, I assure you that it’s not necessary—“

She holds her hand up to stop him. 

“I don’t care. I’m not taking the money back.”

She returns to her desk, intentionally angling away from him, staring intently at the computer screen that he can now see isn’t even turned on. 

“...The power button’s on the back of the monitor.” 

“...right.” 

The computer screen comes to life, and she doesn't spare him a glance. 

Partners, indeed. 

-

When he finally has a moment to see Gordon, he’s gone over his speech 5 times in his head. Gordon, you know I respect you and your decision-making, but I am not a babysitter or some sort of camp counselor. I am formally requesting the reassignment of Agent Blue.

He says it again and again in his head, all the way to the door. He knocks loudly, in a way he knows Gordon will hear, and he gets back a muffled, “Come in!” 

He does. When Gordon catches his eye, his expression is uncharacteristically unreadable. 

“Close the door behind you, Coop,” he tells him. Dale shuts the door and takes his usual seat across from his boss. 

“I’m glad you had the time to talk, I’m sure you have more than a few questions after yesterday,” he says levelly. Dale notes Gordon talking quieter than normal, it gives him an odd feeling like he’s in trouble. 

“I do, Sir. I would like to firstly say that while I respect–”

“Now hang on there, Coop. First things first, I’m going to need you to return those files on Blue.” 

Dale freezes, and his puffed-out chest deflates. It takes him a moment to form a sentence again. 

“...May I ask why, Sir?” 

Gordon sighs and fiddles with the wires of his hearing aid. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong. This is all just a bit more complicated than I can tell you right now. I’m afraid I’m sort of left in the dark here, too. I’ll tell you what I can, but it’s not all that much. Anything else you learn is at the discretion of the bureau - and Blue. And I don't think either of em’ wants you poking around.” 

The situation feels much bigger than him all of a sudden, even though it felt like something he could hold in the palm of his hand just a moment ago. 

“Alright,” is all he can think to say. 

“I knew Blue when she was in the academy, and let me tell you, she is bright. A little prodigy in her class, a bit like you, I’d presume. Anyway, I met her through her field training, she was a NAT here for a little while. Wasn’t too interested in homicide investigation, though. No, she’d taken a real liking to narcotics. Nasty business, I always thought, but to each their own,” 

As he talks, he leans in close to Dale. Gordon’s inside voice is still quite loud, but Dale can tell he’s straining to lower it. 

“She graduated and went straight to doing investigative work with the DEA. If I know you, and I do, I know you’ve picked through her file already. Do you know what Operation Architect is?” 

“I saw the name, but I don't know much about it, no.”

“Neither do I, that’s DEA business, but I know she was on it, undercover for over a year. And I know it didn't go great. She was relocated here after the ordeal.” 

Dale was hoping for this conversation to be more enlightening. He still feels trapped in the dark. 

“I meant it when I said none of this was up to me. My boss wanted Blue assigned to you. I’d wager it's because of your good work, you’ve got a handsome reputation, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. Regardless, she's sticking around for a while, so make the best of it. She’s not quite how I remember her, but as long as she hasn't done a full 180 in a few years, I think you two could get along pretty well.” 

Silence weighs down the room. Dale lets the new knowledge permeate his skin. 

“Alright,” he says because there really isn’t anything else to say. 

“Alright,” Gordon parrots. 

Dale sits like he’s waiting for something else to happen. The crushing finality of it sits on his chest. All the determination he came in there with is withered away to nothing, just ashes of a once burning fire. 

There’s no shirking this now, he has a partner. Cooper & Blue, FBI. 

“I know this isn’t easy for you, and I wish there was more I could do. But to be completely candid with you, I don’t think it’ll be nearly as bad as you’re anticipating.” 

Dale nods absently, drained of anything else to say. Gordon understands. 

“You’re dismissed, Coop.” 

He gets up, politely pushing in the chair. 

Before his hand can touch the knob, Gordon grabs his attention again. 

“Well, one more thing, actually.” Dale tenses, and the dread in his chest that had gone numb begins to flare up again. 

“If I were you, I’d show her a bit of kindness. This line of work is messy, and I can't imagine what the hell happened for her to get sent here.”

Dale can’t imagine either. 

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (26)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 1.2k Summary: Lotta time between now and later

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

If the facility weren’t built by Vault-Tec it’s damn close to it. Every line and door reminds him of those damn commercials he used to do. It’s even underground, although it doesn’t look like it was ever used the way the Vaults were.

“You gonna turn some lights on?”

She glares from the console she’s squatting next to. He could help, but he’s as liable to rearm the security system as he is to lend a hand. Instead, he leans a shoulder up against a rack of boxes, chewing the inside of his cheek and squinting into the dark.

This facility of hers ain’t much to look at. One of those big blast shield doors and an elevator down to just a couple of rooms. She’d ignored the first two, so he’d done the same, but if they were just gonna stand in the dark he might as well go see what was worth salvaging.

“While you’re messin’ with this shit I’ll-”

He winces at the sudden light, tipping his head down so the brim of his hat shades his face. After he blinks away the spots he glances around the room, noting that she’s working on a big computer terminal.

It’s a lab of some sort, not that he has a clue what kind. The space is large, one wall taken up by refrigerators full of strange colored liquids. There’s a few tables scattered throughout, and past them he can see the human-sized tubes that must be for making more of her.

He shifts his feet, antsy to get back above ground. This was her mission, and he was here to support it, but being down in a Vault made the soles of his feet itch. Behind him the rack creaks and he adjusts so he can see what he’s leaning against.

It’s not very big, maybe the size of a large bookcase, with drawers about a foot square. Each one has a number and he makes note of the closest ones.

#055  06/12/2267 -  #054  03/14/2262 - 

He scans the cubbyholes, frowning at the dates. Some are only days apart, but most are a few years. On his end there’s several with only a single date.

“What the hell are these?”

She glances over from the console she’s working on and frowns. “What’s left of my sisters. After he got the hang of it he only made new ones when he needed to sell us.”

He does some quick math. “These are only a couple of years apart. There some kind of nursery round here?”

“We’re made fully grown, or thereabouts.” She waves a hand at the rack of human-sized tubes. “See?”

He didn’t see but he wasn’t worried about that. There’d be plenty of time to figure all this shit out. Some of the ones to the left had two dates - presumably both birth and death - while others… well, he had to assume they were still alive out there.

“These the ones we’re going after?”

“I’d like to.”

Looked like less than a handful, shouldn’t be too bad a job. Out of curiosity he moves to the beginning of the line.

#001  07/18/2143 - 07/30/2143 #002  07/18/2143 - 09/03/2144 #003  02/05/2145 - 06/22/2146

He grunts, tracing a finger over the short dates. These must’ve been failures, clones that didn’t mature. Pausing, he scans across the fifty-odd drawers. What was it she’d said? Just missed unlucky thirteen?

#014  05/13/2153 - 

The date halts him in his tracks and his jaw drops as he looks over at her.

“This right?”

“What?”

“Twenty-one fifty-seven, that the year you were born?”

“Made,” she corrects, finally moving from the console to walk towards him. She’s gorgeous, skin unmarked and hips swaying under that scrap of dress. “And yes, I believe so. I was always Galen’s favorite, he never wanted to sell me. But… things happen.”

“But that would make you…”

“Hundred and twenty? Something like that.”

He gapes, stunned for the first time in years. She laughs and touches his chin, gently pushing it up.

“Don’t look so shocked, I get the feeling you’ve got a few more on you than that.”

“Yeah, but I look every one of mine.”

He’s not jealous. Well, he’s a little jealous. But mostly just that she got to keep her hair. He still misses his.

“You do,” she agrees, sliding her arms around his neck. “And I love it.”

He harrumphs and lets her kiss him. She tastes as sweet as always and he wracks his brain for the nearest available surface. It turns out to be a lab table and it only takes a sweep of his hand to clear it of detritus and hoist her giggling body onto it.

“So just how many gals we gotta go rescue?”

She’s nibbling on his neck and he tilts to give her better access. “Two out there, two in cryostorage in here.”

“Cryostorage?” He hums softly, pushing her dress to her waist. “So there’s two more of you in here just waiting for me to lock lips with them?” She nips and he shudders, jerking her hips forward. “A whole harem of beautiful women, begging to do what I tell them.”

He’s goading her and it works. She bites at his neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and it makes his cock go so instantly hard it hurts.

“You’re mine,” she growls, gripping the back of his head and forcing him to look in her eyes. “I’m not sharing.”

“Good,” he grunts, “I don’t think an old man like me could keep up with more than one of you anyway.”

Her warm chuckle makes his toes curl. “You planning to keep up with me Cooper?”

“Long as you’ll have me,” he tells her solemnly. Something soft enters her eyes and she wraps her fingers into the collar of his coat. He leans forward of instinct, intending to nuzzle against her, and at the last moment turns it into a soft sweep of his lips across hers instead. “I don’t know how many days I got left, but every one of ‘em’s yours.”

She kisses him and he holds her close. There’d be time later to figure out what to do with numbers fifty-four and five over there. Time to talk about his own mission and what her part would be in it. 

But there were a lotta days between now and later, and he intended to enjoy every one of ‘em.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[where-dreamers-go]

"Future Treasure Seekers" Riley Poole x Reader

(A/N: And we’re back with the third/last prequel to the Riley Poole series. This one happens after “Lunch Rescue” and before Part One “Charlotte”. Here we have what happens when Ben talks with Reader about their feelings for Riley and Ben’s theory about the treasure’s first clue.

I tagged the same people from the series, I hope that’s okay. Some have changed though..

Also: HAPPY 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! <3

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst in beginning. Fluff. Mutual pining. Use of (Y/N) for your name. Two different point of views.

Word Count: 3,491 words)

~~~

Adult life could be anything if given the specific circumstances. The good, the bad, and the neutral.

Living next door to your best friend tended to be an enlightening addition to living in an apartment complex. It not only saved you two on phone bills, but also a quick travel distance when wanting to catch up with the other’s life.

“Better than the frozen meal you had yesterday?” You quipped from the other end of the small table.

“Yeah.” Ben admitted, “The edges were burnt.”

“I hate when that happens. Or when I randomly find a piece of corn in something.”

“That brownie?”

“It was weird. Never having that again. I’ll make my own.”

Chuckling, Ben took a sip of his drink. “At least you know what you like now.”

“True.”

“And you’ve learned a lot. Learned about yourself.”

You nodded before frowning slightly.

Where’s he going with this? You wondered suspiciously, hesitant to take another bite of dinner.

“There’s still a lot out there you haven’t experienced.”

“Why do I feel like you’re going to give me a big brother talk of life advice?” You asked, fully suspicious of your friend.

“Because I am.” Ben stated firmly. “You clearly like Riley.”

“Ben.” You set down the utensil.

“I like to see my friends happy.” He continued.

“Me too, but—”

“What are you afraid of?”

You sighed, slouching back into the chair. Time to be honest. “I don’t want to ruin anything. As it is, I’m having to learn that getting older means drifting away from friends I’ve made in school. I don’t want to push him away or make things awkward times a million. I can’t—,” you swallowed. “I don’t want to risk losing Riley because of . . . me.”

Quiet filled the space at the small dining table. You could see the twinge of sadness in Ben’s eyes.

“You’re a good friend, (Y/N). Maybe too good?” Ben inquired.

Staring down at your unfinished dinner, you grumbled somberly.

Maybe if I was brave enough, I’d do something.

. . .

Attempting to put on a light jacket while simultaneously slipping on your shoes tended to take longer in the mornings. As early as it was, you still tried. One elbow bracing by the front door, one shoe refusing to cooperate, and growing determination was how your morning began.

It only became odd with an urgent series of familiar knocks from the other side of the front door.

What the—?

Peering through the peephole, your confusion remained steady at the sight of Ben Gates.

It’s not even eight o’ clock yet, you thought as you unlocked and opened the door.

“Ben?”

“(Y/N),” he greeted brightly. “I think I figured it out.”

You opened your mouth to response, but he was just getting started.

“The Charlotte. It’s not a place and it’s certainly not just a thing. The Charlotte is a ship. A ship that was sailing through the Atlantic years ago.”

“It’s a ship?”

“Yeah. I’ve been researching to know where it was built, what it was supposedly carrying, and it’s destination.”

You shoved your foot into your shoe. “So, where’d it port?”

Ben stuck up his finger and announced, “That’s just it. The Charlotte never did.”

“Well, dang. Okay, um…”

“We just need to figure out where she landed.”

“Ben,” you said firmly. “I have to go in to work today.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Right. Of course.” Ben nodded, thoughts no doubt rushing through his mind. “I’ll call Riley. He’ll work it out on the computer and we’ll let you know everything when you’re off work.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You smiled. “Hopefully my workday goes by fast.”

Ben returned your smile and said with every ounce of determination and hope, “We’re going to find the Charlotte.”

. . .

The afternoon had been full of excited chatter and theories flying around.

Too bad I couldn’t have been here sooner, Riley thought.

Sitting at the small dining table in Ben’s apartment, Riley Poole waited for the results on his laptop. Tracking models took time, but Riley’s was up-to-date. He pushed up his glasses on his nose and waited patiently.

Much more patiently than his friend, Ben, who stood looking over his shoulder in anticipation. His gaze glued onto the tracking model as it moved North into the Arctic Circle.

Looming with crossed arms and no commentary, stood Ian by the kitchen counter.

I’m not sure if it’s comforting or alarming that he’s quiet. Maybe both, if possible.

Half a minute more and the tracking model stopped and delivered its results.

Breaths were held.

Riley blinked.

“There she is,” Ben announced in awe.

“And no one even knows its there?” Riley inquired, squinting at the screen.

“Let’s hope not.” Ian said.

“We have to go.” Ben urged. “All of us.”

“Certainly.”

“Okay, but how are we going to afford proper equipment? For the arctic?” Riley asked.

“I’ll take care of the costs,” Ian announced confidently and shared a smile with Ben. Although each smile was vastly different, one seemingly smug and the other grateful.

“Thank you.” Ben said genuinely.

How much money does he have? The ticket prices alone could be questionable. Then again, I don’t know how much equipment we’ll need. Or if we can get it there. Riley sat back in the chair.

“Okay.” Ben exhaled. Taking quick steps over to a less cluttered part of the table, Ben picked up his cell phone and started dialing.

“Who are you calling?” Ian raised an eyebrow as he took a closer look at Riley’s computer.

“(Y/N).” Ben revealed simply.

“Ben, (Y/N)’s at work.” Riley reminded his excited friend. “The exhibition is still new.”

“I know,” he waved off his friend gently. “It’s close enough.”

(Y/N)’s going to flip when they find out we tracked down a ship, Riley thought with a growing smile. Or run around.

Phone at his ear, Ben waited for a response while moving about the space.

Glancing at his laptop again, Riley checked the time.

They don’t work late today, do they?

“(Y/N).” Ben’s voice filled the apartment with his enthusiasm. Yet that did not stop the man’s feet as he crossed from one side the room to the next. “It’s about Charlotte.”

Riley smirked, fully knowing that there was no way you wouldn’t know what the phone call was all about.

“Okay. I won’t.”

Riley spoke loudly towards Ben, “How fast can you come home? Ben is pacing.”

Ben stopped abruptly and gave Riley a complex expression that made him suddenly self-conscious of his question.

Was that weird to ask? Riley wondered as he awaited your reply.

“They’ll be back soon,” Ben confirmed with a grin that soon dropped, “and . . . I wasn’t pacing the whole floor. No.”

Riley chuckled just as Ian covered his mouth to suppress a laugh.

Treasure, he thought. It could be anything.

Riley looked over to his laptop screen feeling more free and like himself than he ever had. For, he had helped and contributed.

Ben’s theory has to be right.

. . .

Everything’s going to be all right. You got this.

Being rushed usually involved tardiness and unwanted appointments. Strict deadlines as well.

Shouldering open your apartment door, you had a building excitement. One you knew would likely be tiny in comparison to your best friend’s next door.

After practically throwing your things onto the coffee table, you pocketed your keys and cell phone before heading right back out into the hall.

Stepping up to Ben’s door with a raised hand, it opened before you could knock.

“We know where the Charlotte could be,” Ben announced holding the door wide open.

You hadn’t seen him that happy before, practically about to giggle in glee. If Ben was one to giggle that was.

“Hi to you too.” You chuckled as you walked inside.

Ben’s apartment had a buzz of activity even with only two other people present. Ian stood off to the side, seemingly waiting, and Riley sat on the couch with a bright smile.

“Hi, Ian,” you greeted. “Has Ben filled your ears with enough history today?”

“Almost,” the man smirked. His expression could be read as both amused and confident with everything that had transpired that day.

“We’re one step closer.” Ben said after he closed the door and walked towards Ian. “I just know it.”

“Who would be silly enough to doubt you.” You added. “Certainly not me.” You made your way towards the small dining table where Riley sat with his laptop.

“Not me,” Riley raised his hand.

“And I’m guessing you helped?”

“With the computer. Yeah.”

“Yeah. Big deal,” you said and went in for a hug that Riley almost stood up for. “That’s awesome.”

“Not as big as when we actually find treasure.” Riley stated with a smile as you pulled out of the hug and sat in a chair beside him. “It could be worth millions.”

“If it’s a ship, it could have historical artifacts. Not just including the ship itself.” You said with a grin. “And you managed to find it on the computer?”

“I have a tracking model,” Riley gestured to his laptop.

“Oh dang.”

“We’ll be going to the Arctic Circle.” Ben revealed to you. “An area without much activity.”

“Or any at all,” Riley murmured.

“With who knows how many layers of snow and ice,” you added.

“Which is why we need a team.” Ian announced.

Right, you thought and mentally figured the four of you were not enough.

“I have people in mind.”

That’s convenient, you thought as you looked between the confident Ian and the ever-grinning Ben. And makes this a lot easier. Hopefully.

“But…uh. This is happening soon?” You asked, unsure of the chances of your participation. “Or do we not know yet?”

Ben turned to you with a firm point of a finger. “You’re coming too.”

“I have work. The exhibit has barely been up for over a week. Wouldn’t it be weird if I just took off?”

“You’re great at what you do. They have to let you have time off. The exhibit is perfect. They can handle a few days without you. Hopefully.” Riley added, “They can email someone else.”

Overwhelmed with his compliments, you bumped his knee with yours.

“Thank you.”

Turning at the sound of Ben’s chuckle, you caught Ian rolling his eyes. It only made you overtly aware of your knee still touching Riley’s.

You tore your gaze away from everyone and grumbled in thought, If I’m going to do this… I’m going to have to juggle some things around or something. Without letting people know specifics.

“But, you can make it work?” Ben asked, fully attentive.

Feeling yourself internally caving to the idea of discovering history, you said, “If anything, I haven’t called out sick in months. I could use sick days. I’ll talk with them tomorrow or…when we know for sure when we’re going.”

“Excellent,” Ian said with a determined nod. “I’ll make some calls.”

. . . 

Things were moving fast. Tickets were bought and plans were made. Phone calls were more common and expected between friends.

Check list in hand, you sat on your bed thoughtfully. Curtains closed to conceal the city lights of the city. Luggage sitting on the floor as other items were strategically scattered in your room.

Less than a week stood between you and the possibility of discovering treasure. That left you with much to settle and organize.

Thank goodness you weren’t doing it alone.

“You have a good hat, right? To keep you warm?” You asked into the phone.

“Yeah. Found it in the pocket of my coat.” Riley replied.

“Good place to find it.”

“Speaking of finding things. You have extra batteries, right? Extra film?”

“I have some somewhere,” you muttered, hopping off the bed to venture out of your bedroom and into a makeshift office. Shuffling through a set of drawers took a few moments. “Yup. There’s the right kind too.”

“Nice. Are those from your storm prep stash?”

“Yeah. I’ll get more when we come back.”

“From the Arctic Circle.”

You walked back into your bedroom and placed the pack of batteries by your camera bag.

“So much for traveling extra light. Snow…lots of layers and just-in-case items.”

“Like a bag for all of my chargers.”

“Extra long socks and snacks.”

“Mittens and gloves.”

“And we’ll be wearing most of it. I don’t know what we’ll be carrying.”

“Whatever Ian supplies, I guess,” Riley muttered. “He acted as if getting everything was easy.”

“For him it might.”

“How much money does he have?”

“Don’t know. Don’t think we’ll ever find out.” You stated while marking over a checkmark on your list again. “Equipment alone is a lot.”

“In the thousands, probably. Ben said something about us not having to worry about walking. What’s with that? Did Ian hire dog sled teams too?”

“I have no idea, but Ben’s happy.”

“I’m happy.”

“I know.” You smiled and set your list aside. “And it’s really cool that you found it with the tracking model.”

“Well, uh, if it’s right then we’ll all be shoving snow to get to whatever’s in the ship.”

“It’ll be a lot of work.”

“Hopefully not too much.” Riley added, “We’re looking for treasure not doing hard labor. Then we can spend it however we want.”

However we want, you mused over his words. You had no idea what you would buy first if rewarded with money for your treasure seeking efforts.

“Speaking of spending. Do you think Ian will treat everyone to food?” You asked, glancing at your secret savings in an old notebook.

“Uh. Let’s not push our luck. No matter how nice that’d be.”

“I’ll bring snacks then.”

. . .

Late afternoon light filled corners of your apartment. Time was ticking down to when you would all leave to search for the Charlotte. An air of change circled through the air.

Even your day at work had felt different. The feeling continued inside your apartment where Riley had left his bags in your spare room.

Definitely different, you thought as you made sure you had your basic essentials. Keys, check. Phone and IDs, got them.

“Why do you have to go back?” Riley asked, standing behind your couch.

You tilted your head.

“I mean—you just got off work.” He clarified quickly.

“I just need to give them a few things from my office. I would have done that earlier, but I didn’t know they needed that too. Museum stuff…no big deal, but I’ll be back in no time.” You twisted your keyring between your fingers. “Make yourself at home. The money for the pizza is on the counter if they beat me here.”

Riley nodded. Blue eyes following your movements to the front door.

And it’ll give me time to wrap my mind around Riley staying in my apartment tonight.

. . . 

Looking over his electronics, all were either plugged in to charge or packed away. Riley was thankful that the outlet by the spare bed was visible and connected to a surge protector.

They really know how to use their space, Riley thought as he looked about the spare room. An office, bedroom, and probably storage area. He eyed the closet beside a desk. Not wanting to intrude in your space, Riley kept his distance. Yet he could clearly see the setup around the desk with a calendar stuck to the wall with important dates marked in various colors. This is definitely theirs.

Out of the many times Riley had visited your apartment, he had never been inside alone. Being surrounded by everything that had your specific touch to it was intriguing. Then again, Riley had never been hours away from starting a search for treasure and he certainly had never been in the spare room knowing full well that was where he would sleep for the night.

Sleeping over. Riley thought as he wiped his palms over his jeans and exhaled slowly. It’s just Ben’s place has no room. And he’ll probably be on the phone with Ian every other hour. It’s fine. It’s just us then we leave in the morning. Riley swallowed. And I’ve never had breakfast here either. It’s fine.

Quiet hadn’t fully settled in your apartment. The television was set to an animal documentary. Riley hadn’t thought of changing it even as he sat down to watch.

He had to keep his mind busy, for the moment, away from the treasure and you. Waiting was all he really could do and not just because you called an order for pizza.

Blinking, Riley refocused on the show.

“ . . . now grown, he will do his best to attract a mate.”

Riley threw his head back into the couch cushion and uttered, “You and me both, buddy.”

Ben better not give me that talk again after this, he thought as he bounced his leg anxiously. Who am I kidding? He probably has one prepared.

A knock on the door startled Riley off of the couch.

The pizza had arrived.

. . .

A jingle of keys and a shove, you walked back into your apartment. The smell of pizza clinging to the air.

“Hey,” Riley stood from the couch, “did you get everything done?”

“Uh. Yeah. Everything’s good.” You answered and closed the door. Words left you oddly from feeling a little warm at the sight of Riley in your home and comfortable. You could get used to that image. “So…where are you hiding the pizza? I can smell it.”

“Oven. Keeping all the heat from escaping.” He headed straight for the small kitchen area.

“Thank you.” Setting your keys and such down on the kitchen counter, you watched Riley retrieve the pizza box.

“You’re thanking me?” Riley lifted the cardboard lid. “I’d be bunking with a sleep-deprived Ben if it weren’t for you.”

“Who says I’m not sleep-deprived?”

“I can tell.”

Smiling to yourself, you grabbed two plates from an overhead cabinet.

“For one,” Riley continued, “you’re talking coherently.”

“We’re about to eat pizza. So I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

With a quick smile, Riley distributed a couple of slices for the both of you and headed to the small dining table nearby. “But seriously, thank you.”

“It’s not a problem. You’re always welcome here.” You said and quickly added, “Treasure or no treasure.”

“Hopefully we find something.” Riley said after a bite of pizza.

You nodded, thoughtful.

“Even a small fortune.”

Laughing in agreement, you stated, “It’d be a great addition to my vacation.”

Blue eyes peered up. “You used your vacation days?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s great! The exhibition will be up for a few months anyway.” Riley exclaimed. “Maybe we’ll find something you could add to a new exhibition.”

“That would be really cool and a bonus considering I don’t exactly have a substitute for my position, but it’ll be fine.”

Both agreeing, you returned to eating. Thankfully the pizza hadn’t gone to room temperature while you were on route back.

The general silence was comforting. Perhaps it was the busy day or the adventure planned ahead of you, but you liked sitting down with Riley without needing to fill in the space with words.

Don’t go off on imagination overdrive while he’s here. Just eat your pizza. You thought to yourself, glad Ben wasn’t there to add commentary for just once. At least Riley’s comfortable here. I just gotta go over my list again after cleaning up. Set out a pair of socks for the flight.

“Hey.” Riley’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

You glanced up.

“You have everything packed except your phone. You haven’t forgotten anything.”

You sat up straighter. “Did I say something out loud?”

“No.” A smile curved his lips. “You had that overthinking look.”

. . .

Nighttime was a particular thing. It gave freedom to how one used their time away from work and offered a more suitable atmosphere for sleep.

Walking out of the bathroom and ready for sleep, you found Riley asleep on the couch. The television was still on and hushed forest sounds emitted from it.

I guess he didn’t head to bed after all. You mused, or I took that long in the bathroom.

Quietly, you knelt down by the couch. “Riley?” You touched his shoulder gently.

“Hmm?” Drowsy eyes glanced your way.

“Time for bed.”

Nodding and closing his eyes again, Riley pushed himself up. Then, with shuffling feet, he headed away from you and the couch.

You watched on.

“Left, Riley,” you instructed as he had been walking towards your room. You covered your own chuckle while Riley redirected himself to the spare room. “Sweet dreams.”

And don’t think too much about where he was heading, you thought to yourself and knowing full well that would be an extremely difficult task to follow through. Riley being adorable and finding treasure among friends, this could be fun. I might be too excited to sleep. Anything can happen.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Riley Poole Tags: @darkenwolfy @wesleeporstudy @yearning-warmth @thecaptaingingersnap @nervousfandom

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[ikamigami]

I believe what Dark Sun told Foxy is true.

Maybe it's because of what he said about our Sun not surviving..

This.. I think that this cements it for me that Dark Sun isn't actually that bad.

I mean I think that he's not telling the full truth when he says that he only cares about his own ass.

Cause I think that he cares about something here. In our dimension. Or maybe about someone?

It might be just my wishful thinking but what if Dark Sun feels some kind of sentiment towards our Sun?

Cause when he was watching a bits from the channel it seemed to me as if he saw there something that he maybe wanted to be with his Moon or maybe he just in our Sun something he lost after all these times Moon refused to cooperate..

We were wondering on Discord when I still was active there how Dark Sun would feel about our Sun if he met him.

We didn't have them meeting each other and while Dark Sun didn't state that he hates our Sun for being a punching bag or that he feels a bit sympathetic towards him or that he doesn't care about him at all.. I feel like those little bits show that Dark Sun might actually feel sorry for our Sun.

I mean cause look, he told Moon that he should be worried about Sun and let him know where Sun is.. even though he could just simply say for example "don't worry about your dear Sun, check the lighthouse".. but he didn't. He said "you should be worried about Sun.."

And when Dark Sun was counting people who could built Eclipse - people who knows how to copy paste a personality - and he made a weird pause when he said Sun's name.. people thought that Sun is actually the one who is working with Ruin and helped him bring Eclipse back. But I think that Dark Sun hesitated because of how much our Sun doesn't believe in his own smarts. Sun can copy paste a personality - he did that with Moon's computer.. but remember how he said that it was just dumb luck?

And Dark Sun also said that Sun won't survive the aftermath of Ruin's "thanos' snap thing"..

And him watching their channel - he only later went to the episode with Ruin's interrogation - he was watching one of the games at first..

Doesn't it all seems odd to you? Why Dark Sun would be like that towards our Sun who "failed" in every way Dark Sun didn't?

Shouldn't he be angry at our Sun for being a doormat to everyone? For not being able to stand up for himself? Not being able to speak his mind to Moon?

Does Dark Sun might actually feel sorry for our Sun?

Maybe, and it might be my wishful thinking once again, Dark Sun isn't angry at our Sun because he.. gaah I can't find the right word xp..

Maybe Dark Sun admires, is sentimental about Sun's kindness?

I can't word it out how I want for the love of all that exist QwQ

What I mean is that Sun has this kindness and lots of empathy which is what Dark Sun lost. And I think that maybe Dark Sun feels some sort of grief.. for lack of better word.. it's like he's grieving who he was.

Cause like many people speculated me included that Dark Sun just became so cold, distant and emotionally detached to be able to stay on his ground, to be able to cut off the toxic people from his life - Moon literally and creator and Stitchwraith got killed. He has his peace but at what cost?

I think that our Sun is for Dark Sun a bitter-sweet reminder of what he had to sacrifice in order to achieve his peaceful life. I think that our Sun reminds Dark Sun of how he used to be as if he was looking at his younger self.

You know what I mean? It's similar to when you see yourself in someone else and you see all those aspects of you that were sweet but they're gone and you're not like that anymore. And you can't help it but to feel sympathy towards that person.

I think that the same is with Dark Sun. I think that he feels a little bit of sympathy towards our Sun because of how Sun is still kind and compassionate and forgiving. And Dark Sun used to be like that as well. And now he looks at Sun and can't help but to feel sympathy towards him. And he can't help but to feel sorry for Sun because of how much Sun struggles all because of his kind heart.

And because Dark Sun has a star - and interdimensional star at that - he probably saw things from future and he saw that Sun will try to do something to himself. Or that's what I think is the case.

I might be wrong but for me it can't be a coincidence with the way Dark Sun is whenver he mentions our Sun.

And that's why I think that he might want to try to prevent this from happening. But will he be successfull? Will he be able to convince others to listen to him?

We shall see. I can't wait to see what showrunners have in store for us.

At the end I'll say that I'm really happy to see that Foxy tries to do better as a father of FC this time and that he took FC with him to try and if kid can help with anything awwwww 💗

Also I wonder what are they doing wrong with the way they're trying to bring Solar back.. maybe they need Eclipse's help? Hmmm..

Either way something interesting will happen on April 8th to say the least.. I can feel it.

[kiwiaok]

one more bit from “my love mine all mine” bc I’m actually kinda proud of how I captured drugged andrew’s thought process:

Everything's so damn funny lately. Kevin's desperation to get him to care about exy, the scarecrow of the man that hides under the name Neil, Wymack looking at him like he might be worth something more than the knives hidden under his armbands. And the pills, especially those little bastards. They're so funny they squeeze involuntary giggles through his teeth all the time.

It's truly hilarious that after so many survived years, Andrew is still just a naïve little kid on the inside. That all his truths still crumble when faced with reality. Andrew thought that even if his choices and body were never his, at least his mind was his own. That he could always take shelter in the privacy of his own head, that this was the one thing he would always have control over. And he fought for it, too. It's why he actually cooperated with Bee - he decided that he wouldn't allow anything, not memories and not past experiences to take control over his thoughts. Now, the pills laugh at him from where he sees them out of the corner of his eye.

Andrew laughs right back at them, dizzy and nauseous. It's like he has been spinning for a long time, and he can't stop. His thoughts cycle constantly, wildly; blue pills, blue eyes, blue like cyan, that's like cyanide, one of the symptoms of the poisoning is shortness of breath and tinnitus, tinnitus, there is always ringing in his ears but he doesn't know if it's from screaming or laughing and he doesn't know if it's coming from his own mouth or from other's and he doesn't know when was the last time he could take a full breath and there are maggots crawling under his skin, and he wants to cut himself open and pluck them out one by one, but he's not allowed, and he's not allowed to stop either, to pause, to breathe, to think.

Frankly, it's exhausting. Constant racing thoughts, a constant stream of feelings fabricated entirely from those funny little pills. Every time he's fed one of those, on a schedule, like a fucking dog, he obediently swallows and then imagines little blue, cyan pills dancing around in his brain. Andrew doesn't think that's the drugs' desired effect, but he doesn't say anything. Enough words fall unbidden from his mouth these days.

He stays quiet and never alone and never in control, just him and the dancing pills, spinning, spinning like on a carousel, and oh he was on a carousel once with Cass, Cass like Cassandra, that database management system that supports computer clusters, Andrew knows because he read about it once and now his mind will never let him forget and Andrew thinks he needs a Cassandra for his brain to manage all clusters of his memories and then he remembers that he needed Cass too, not that long ago, Cass the person, not the database system and he wanted her to stay but where Cass was there was Drake and there were hands dancing on his skin, dancing just like those little pills and isn't that so funny? It seems funny. Everything's so damn funny lately.

[kesleyjo]

I'm having some finale wine and I think I've got it. My final resolute head canon of Riverdale.

Keep in mind I have not watched the end of season 5 through the end and have absolutely no intention to, but I've seen and heard enough about *gestures vaguely* all of that to still stand by this.

Disclaimer: I do not believe this is what the writers intended whatsoever. This is all my imagination. I do however believe in this canon whole heartedly and its as true to me as whatever RAS's vision is to him. You choose who to trust.

Okay so first and foremost the entire series is written by Jughead. It's all his writings that are probably all sitting in a google docs draft folder.

I justify this due to the following:

He is the narrator

The entire series is obsessed with Betty Cooper for good or ill (I'll get to it)

Its all kind of sort of been alluded to that its all Jughead's writings anyway. At least in S1, again. I'll get to the why of that in a second.

He started writing season 1 in his junior year (so a year after the events of the S1). He read In Cold Blood (on his own, not for class, very important to him that you all know this) and was like "Hey my town had a murder and I have some trauma around it, so I should totes do this." And thus S1 is born.

This is why that season is (relatively) more grounded and far more realistic than the rest of the series because its based on a real true thing that happened and the real feelings and emotions of people involved. It has the least amount of exaggeration (but enough, because Jughead) and has the most coherent plot, which would make sense since Jughead isn't making anything up, he is recalling events.

This is also the only season that directly ties Jughead's narration and the plot to the book Jughead is writing on page, and thus tying them both together. Because again, its a thing that really happened.

So the characterizations, motivations, and actions of everyone in season 1 is the model of how and how these characters actually are and are a base for further exaggeration.

Seasons 2-4 are also based on true events but are exaggerations/interpretations of things that really happened, but are altered to make them more interesting to Jughead's readers (heh).

I don't want this post to be a novel so here is a brief listing of that I am thinking here for some of the main plots (but if you have a plot you want me to fit into this canon let me know):

The Black Hood: When Jughead showed Betty his first manuscript (S1) the positive constructive criticism she gave was that, "True crime is really popular right now, so this fits in with the zeitgeist." And Jughead ran with it. Fred also had his first heart attack at this time...we all know where I'm going with that so I'll just leave that there. RIP.

Making Hal the Black Hood: Hal leaves the family after the Polly debacle and finding some racy pics on Betty's computer (she sent them to Jug, she wasn't a camgirl) and decides to start his life over with a woman who is far more moral (and probably like 2 years older than Polly)

The Serpents/Class War with Hiram: Not a gang, just those under the boot of the rich that Hiram tries to eradicate through good ol fashioned gentrification. Archie and Veronica also start spending more time doing rich people shit and that drives a divide between the two main couples of the core four. But less about political plots and more about teenagers growing apart because of different interests

Season 3: Putting this all together because Jughead was having a hard time finding a plot here. So he focused on Alice's new weird young boyfriend who actually ended up taking off with Polly (leaving her twins), his newfound obsession with DnD (Betty was exhaustedly supportive of this) and Kevin's endless talk about the new megachurch he just joined. He and Betty also started watching a lot of horror films and Hitchcock at the time which leads us to...

Season 4: He and Betty go off to different schools but its because of college, not because Jug is the chosen one (again see why he is writing all of this himself). He meets a lot of pretentious people that challenge his relationship with Betty and he turns it into a mystery.

So now we have made it to 4.17. Ugh.

Okay so Jughead has written all of this, and reading everything back feels that Archie and Betty (who go to the same college now and are friends again after growing apart after he dated Veronica) have grown too close and Jug self destructs.

He self sabotages so hard and makes a story up in his head that Betty would be much happier with Archie who is doing perfectly mediocre at college while Jughead flunked out.

So he and Betty break up after a lot of frustrated fighting.

And he begins to write Betty differently. Wildly differently.

(You can't tell me this doesn't make more sense than whatever the hell happened in the show.)

Jughead dejected from his failure at school and his breakup Writes on and off for the next few years. His next main attempt is S5. His attempt at more realistic writing.

(Its also after Betty enters his life again, because at her core Betty is his muse)

He works through his fictional frustrations of Betty and Archie as a possible couple (They never dated. Archie is actually a aromantic pansexual who does not do commitment) and realized that he made it all up and they have nothing in common.

Jughead and Betty get back together at the end of "Season 5" but Betty tells him that writing about their real life is what tore them apart, so he needs to not use their relationship in his writing anymore.

So Jughead decided to get weird and wildly experimental with his writing. And because Jughead is not a particularly good writer S6 and S7 are born.

Betty, absolutely running out of positive things to say about his last few writing attempts tells him that maybe these exaggerated versions of their lives that bear no resemblance to the real world have run their course, and he should try something new.

So Jughead wraps up this now unrecognizable series of writings and moves onto something new.

With Betty diligently serving as his editor. She got distracted with her new job and left him unattended for those last few seasons and look what happened.

Also I realize that Archie/Veronica/Cheryl/Toni are absent in this so briefly

Archie: He always was in awe of Archie and slightly jealous of what he perceived he had over Jughead...this is why he is the quasi-hero and also why he tortures Arch and treats him like an idiot.

Veronica: I cannot stress this enough. He and Veronica have no relationship. She is his friend's girlfriend and his girlfriend's best friend. The only thing he really knows about her is she is rich and hot. So he makes that her core personality and slaps on whatever traits fit her best for whatever plot he is writing at the time.

(This is also why almost all the women Veronica, Tabitha, Jessica, and Toni all are at some time his love interest. Self instert fan fic Jug. We see you.)

Cheryl/Toni: He and Toni are friends and Cheryl is her girlfriend who endlessly terrifies him. That is the core of her characterization.

I already regret the fact that I am sharing this long-winded mess with the world...but I can't take it back now.

Enjoy. And if you don't that is fine. It's my head canon not yours. Go make your own.

Have fun on finale night folks.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 42 Crypt or Currency?

I thought I accidentally didn't sign up correctly to get the ID card and pin for the SoM preorder, but I got an email that they were just shipped!! :DD

Look it's HTGAWM Mauve!!

And I just checked and the board game is in store!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Logico wakes up with the sun shining so elegantly through the window. It would be beautiful, but he’s a complete grumpypants, and shoves his pillow over his head. Irratino gives him a pat.

IRRATINO: Rise and shine buddy.  LOGICO: no! go away IRRATINO: Gico… LOGICO: no!! IRRATINO: Look what I have for you.

Logico shifts. A bribe always gets him going. He reluctantly sits up, and sees that Irratino is holding two tickets - to the Bahamas!!

LOGICO: Oh, Irratino, you lifesaver… You have no idea how much I need this…

They share a squishtastic hug. And they set off to the airport to fly to a tropical wonderland. Logico immediately becomes so relaxed, he sleeps the whole flight there. And when they arrive, he’s just so happy! They check into a gorgeous beach house, and prepare to do absolutely nothing for a while.

IRRATINO: Oh, Logico. LOGICO: …mh? IRRATINO: First things first, I gotta check on something. LOGICO: Check on… what. IRRATINO: My crypto investments! I gotta see how they’re paying off.

All the glass in the room shatters, and Logico slowly turns around without moving, eye in shadow.

LOGICO: YOUR… WHAT. IRRATINO: It’ll just take a minute, I’ll meet you on the beach. LOGICO: NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!

Every ounce of relaxation in Logico has died since Irratino spoke those dreadful words. He can’t just let him GO there… 

So he stalks him all the way there. Naturally, the building is so pretentious that it looks like a computer in itself. And inside is even worse! The obvious Executive Producer Steel and the less obvious Marble and Sir Rulean are impatiently standing in line, bickering. 

LOGICO: Did that tornado seriously blow Sir Rulean all the way to the Bahamas? How did he get his armor back? IRRATINO: [jumps] Geez, Logico, I didn’t even see you! Why did you follow me if you hate crypto so much? LOGICO: STOP SAYING CRYPTO. I’m here because… um…

He frantically looks around for an issue. Namely a murder.

LOGICO: I’m here because the CEO… is D-E-D. IRRATINO: Hhhhh

Logico looks around at the devices. SO many servers, TVs, and computers… the amount of energy this single place is taking from the rest of the world is disgusting. 

LOGICO: I think I’m GLAD the CEO is dead. STEEL: UGH! Are you for real? I need my high-tech BANKER! I’ve never seen a check I couldn’t cash!

Logico and the other suspects exchange a look of mutual agreement - Steel is the worst woman alive.

MARBLE: Personally, I’m just here to make… money. RULEAN: I’m here to enact revenge on when you almost killed me! LOGICO: WHAT? MARBLE: Oh sweetie don’t do that. RULEAN: I mean he already knows the plan now… I guess there’s no point.

Marble and Rulean are being remarkably cooperative. Steel, meanwhile, is whining about how ‘terrible’ her luck is, and it’s really getting on Logico’s nerves. Irratino just sits on the floor, waiting for this mystery to end so he can do what he came to do.

LOGICO: Are you going to help me? It’s YOUR cryptocurrency. IRRATINO: I didn’t… [sigh] NIGHT: You must be looking for me.

Logico screams. Where did they come from??

IRRATINO: All right, Logico… but you’re not being very grateful for the vacation I just bought you.

He runs the numbers with Night, and Logico feels kind of bad. But as always, they come to a conclusion. The killer was Marble!

MARBLE: I poisoned him, because he was using math for evil! LOGICO: How? MARBLE: I… don’t remember. LOGICO: You shouldn’t have done that. MARBLE: You’re right. I should have used a better weapon. He’s contaminated, and I can’t have him for lunch!

She regrets saying that right away. After that little fact slips, Irratino sits dejected. Obviously, this murder means his investments added up to nothing.

LOGICO: Don’t worry. I hacked into your phone and sold all your ‘crypto’ months ago.

He rubs his back. Irratino feels a little bet-

IRRATINO: WHAT THE HELL?? YOU WENT THROUGH MY PHONE?! LOGICO: You think after you moved in I wouldn’t go through your phone every night? IRRATINO: EVERY NIGHT?!

Irratino yanks out his phone and starts violently deleting random things.

LOGICO: It’s too late, Irratino.

The goat lord screams and falls to his knees.

The end!

Now who's the stalker boyfriend

I CAN'T WAIT TO GET THE BOARD GAME OMGGGG even though I hate board games but IDC IT HAS LOGICO ON ITTT

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!